The Gnome And Mrs. Meyers

By Susan Chertkow

“I know it's weird to take on such an unusual boarder, excuse me, “Homestay guest,” but it's the first break I've had in a long time.”

-Brenda Meyers's Journal Entry

When Mrs. Meyers, an impoverished widow, wins the "Expect the Unexpected Sweepstakes" she thinks everything in her life will turn around. But the prize of precious jewels comes with an unexpected catch: she must keep an ancient magical being safe, secure, and entertained for three months at her condo. Is she up to the challenge of this unique homestay program? Will she be able to deal with her abusive boss, and a condo association that is certain there's vermin running around the building? And, most importantly, what will a gnome think of Chicago deep-dish pizza?

Read the book, and find out why this wildly successful story, originally released as a podiobook, has had over 35,000 downloads.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Chertkow
• Release date: Aug 28, 2012

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Brenda Meyers smelled the Gnome from in her condo's den before she ever saw him. She was awakened from her makeshift bed on the sofa at 3:32 A.M. by a piney, woodsy cinnamon odor, like gift stores at Christmastime. Her first reaction upon seeing a little old man only about a foot and a half high, in a tall blue pointy hat, was that he was a hallucination, something induced by the Ambien, the supposedly gentle sleep aid.

I'm not a hallucination! the courtly being insisted in a surprisingly rich voice with a slight British accent. I'm definitely a real gnome--as real as these cashews--may I partake? Following Brenda's dazed nod, he selected a few from a bowl on a very low end table, put them in his mouth and murmured, "I just love cashews--I knew I'd like it here."

Hearing her hallucination talk, Brenda panicked. She bolted to the kitchen and grabbed the sponge mop, ready to defend herself against the tiny intruder. Then she dialed 911.

Yes, Officer, this is Brenda Meyers, 6281 Ashland. There's an intruder in my home--about sixteen to eighteen inches high, with a tall blue hat--a very old, odd looking creature … Brenda dissolved into uhs and ums and then Oh, don't bother … my mistake … sorry … just a doll … ha ha … my mistake ..."

Brenda hung up for fear of sounding like a nut case.

She went back in the den and saw that he was still there, channel surfing now with the remote. He was smiling, while dancing a soft shoe on his felt soles. Every few beats he stepped on the Channel button.

In the light of the TV, Brenda was able to get a better look at the Gnome. One word seemed to perfectly describe him: Dapper. True, he had a cone hat like images of garden gnomes, but this gnome was well-proportioned, his silver beard and mustache neatly trimmed.

Furthermore, he was well-tailored, distinguished-looking. He sported a navy blue flannel sport coat, gray slacks, a striped blue shirt and striped tie, and a gold-embroidered emblem over his breast pocket. Under his jacket peeked a tan vest, and on his feet were gray felt shoes so exquisite, they looked like elves had made them.

Well, Phil, I've hit a new low, Brenda said out loud. There's a gnome in our place, and you're not here to deal with it. I'm losing it now, Phil--I'm really losing it.

Then Brenda had an idea. She went to the kitchen pantry, refilled the nut bowl and placed it next to the couch. While the Gnome was busy with entertainment and refreshments, she logged on to the Internet and typed in Gnomes.

She scanned the material, relieved to fine a recurring theme: Gnomes are good-natured, peaceful beings. Searching revealed several types of gnomes: Dune Gnomes, Siberian Gnomes, Woodland Gnomes, and a match for hers, House Gnomes.

Allegedly, these last are intimately schooled in the knowledge of humankind and reputed to be enchanting storytellers, inspired engineers, and crafty illusionists. They are fluent in languages and steeped in the decorative arts. Members of the gnomes' ruling body are chosen from the ranks of House Gnomes.

One site looked as though it had been taken from a book on anthropology. She skimmed it while the Gnome was doing pushups and watching an infomercial on Bowflex.

Brenda thought that for folklore, the material was surprisingly detailed. It noted names for the tiny being in locations as far flung as Europe, Scandinavia, and Asia. It also went into depth about trolls, the gnome's ancient enemies. It even included a glossary. Brenda bookmarked the site.

Maybe there's a logical basis for it … or maybe, just maybe … I'm dreaming!

WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP, BRENDA! she shouted. The Gnome looked startled and confused. He had switched from exercise to fishing out cashews from the bowl of mixed nuts.

Brenda knew that her own dreams were never this rich; she certainly smelled cinnamon and pine. She felt the sponge mop like a javelin at her side, and of course, she beheld the gnome.

Armed with an abundance of information, Brenda took out a pen and yellow pad. As a part-time paralegal, she was prepared to interrogate the little emissary. For starters, she wanted to know what was on the card he was waving at her and what was in the briefcase he set before her feet.

***

Excuse me, Mr. Gnome, I'd like to ask you some questions.

The Gnome tapped the Power button on the remote with his toe and bowed again to Brenda.

But of course, Mrs. Meyers. So sorry I startled you. My presence must be upsetting, to say the least. But first, I have exciting news for you. He handed her an engraved card.

CONGRATULATIONS BRENDA MEYERS!

GRAND PRIZE WINNER OF THE EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED SWEEPSTAKES CONTEST

"I'm a winner! I don't believe it! Oh my God. Oh my God! How much did I win? I can't believe my luck. Wait a minute … Oh my God! This is too weird."

Brenda had been entering three or four online sweepstakes contests a week because she was in desperate financial straits and it seemed just a harmless whim. Her savings had been wiped out after her husband's long illness, and his insurance money barely covered the funeral. Threats of foreclosure on her condo arrived daily in the mail.

Brenda looked at the notification: Expect the Unexpected. I get it--this is a joke, right? There's a hidden TV camera? Brenda straightened her hair, smiled, and looked around the den.

No! You really are a winner, the Gnome insisted. And there really is a great reward, a king's ransom of a reward. I have the treasure here.

The Gnome went into his briefcase and Brenda observed how stunning it was. It stood half the Gnome's size, a miniature, mint-condition vintage case of hand-tooled leather and quality metal closings. The Gnome took out a black velvet bag and emptied its contents on the coffee table. Seven dazzling jewels: a ruby, sapphire, opal, aquamarine, emerald, amethyst, and a diamond sent a rainbow of lights dancing on the ceiling. The colored stones were bigger than peanut M&M's and brighter than fireworks. But it was the diamond--at least several carats--that stood out in glory: a square-shaped, sparkling supernova with a shimmer of pink inside.

May I touch them? Brenda motioned.

Yes, of course, said the Gnome.

Brenda fondled each stone. The blue-gray aquamarine reminded her of Lake Michigan in March, and the sapphire, her birthstone, brought to mind her mother's midnight blue bottle of Evening in Paris perfume. The opal had sparks of fire in it, as did the ruby and emerald and amethyst.

The only time Brenda ever saw such beautiful jewels was at the Museum of Natural History's Cartier exhibit. If I sell these, thought Brenda, I could pay off the mortgage and put some money in the bank.

"Are these really mine, all mine?" Brenda asked the Gnome.

Yes … but with a slight contingency, he added, lowering his head. "Uhh, it relates to the Unexpected Part."

Sure! Brenda said sarcastically. So, what's the catch?

I have some documents that will explain the terms of the reward. The Gnome handed Brenda a blue hardcover notebook, emblazoned with a gold Gnome Nation embossed seal, the same type of insignia on the Gnome's breast pocket. Matters regarding Gnomes are of the very best quality, Brenda noted. A lengthy contract in five folded sections tumbled open.

You see, the Gnome began, "you've been chosen for my three-month-long Homestay Program at the culmination of my Wandering Time. At the completion of the program, I'll be marrying for the first and--hopefully--only time and settling down with my intended bride.

Excuse me, Mr. Gnome, but how old are you?

One hundred and fifty-seven.

"Wait a minute! Hold on--isn't that extremely old to be getting married?

Not for Gnomes. We're very long-lived--around four hundred years is a typical lifetime for us. I can expect to be married for the next two hundred and fifty years to my Zophia, Zophia Almondale.

At the mention of her name, the Gnome grinned and blushed.

And how old is Zophia?

"A little younger than I--one hundred and twenty-five."

Brenda paused. A Homestay Program? I don't want to offend you, Mr. Gnome, but are you an alien from another planet or galaxy?

Heavens no! I'm a House Gnome and proud member of the Gnome Nation. More accurately, I'm an expatriate. My ancestors once thrived here in your dimension but emigrated to another universe, an intimately close, permeable one. Your prophets and psychics occasionally access our domain.

Did you get here in a rocket ship or flying saucer?

A laugh shook the Gnome. Please excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but how quaint--the idea of all that hardware. Let it be said that we have methods of travel that are more advanced than anything presently conceived in your dimension.

I have to know why you're here. You could be part of a terrorist plot, you know.

Do I look like a conspirator? he replied. His conical hat spun around twice, drooped, and faced backwards. I'm here to gather material for stories.

I can't believe just that.

Plants require light from the sun. Gnomes require stories. Our supply has dwindled, and we haven't had any new material since the fifteenth century. Another reason is homesickness. After several hundred years, we still yearn for your universe.

Is your Nation planning an invasion?

Hardly. It'll take decades to process the information from this program. I wouldn't worry about insidious plots or invasions … except for maybe a couple of fairies and a wayward elf. The Gnome laughed.

Brenda was not amused.

Please read aloud from the contract, the Gnome continued. There are great rewards for you, besides the jewels.

Brenda read.

Congratulations Mrs. Meyers!

You have been selected to be our first Homestay Host in the United States.

We, at the Regional Council of the Gnome Nation, are proud to send you a guest of sterling character, intellect, and talent.

Host Compensation I

At the completion of the three-month program, you will receive seven jewels: an opal, a sapphire, a ruby, an aquamarine, an emerald, an amethyst and a five-carat flawless diamond.

Your Guest has funds (U.S. currency) to provide weekly payment for his lodging.

Brenda was stunned by the generous amount.

Host Compensation II

Your Homestay Guest is a being of many skills. He will be delighted to become your mentor and assist you in any area.

"I don't need a mentor! Why would anyone assume I need a mentor?

That's optional. Read on, Mrs. Meyers.

Host Compensation III

As part of this Pilot Program and Cultural Exchange, your Homestay Guest has been authorized to share some of the secrets of Gnome longevity and vitality.

Well, if it's true about your age, that might be helpful.

Host Responsibilities

The Homestay Host agrees to provide the following.

1. Protection and privacy.

2. A safe and comfortable environment.

3. Enriching activities and outings.

4. Shared breakfast and dinner.

A tiny signature adorned the bottom half of the contract.

Brenda looked up. "Provide protection and privacy for you? They have to be kidding. I sure couldn't guarantee that."

Brenda looked over an enclosed copy of the Gnome's application. It contained two black-and-white pencil drawings of him, one full face and another full length. Under Diet, it noted vegetarian. For hobbies and interests it listed journaling, singing and dancing, American History, languages, woodworking, home repairs, design, flower arranging, and decorative centerpieces called tablescapes.

The application did note that he was a pipe smoker; however, special arrangements could be made if that was offensive to the Host. Under Family, it listed his twin brother Ramone, who was a devotee of Latin American culture.

It was all too much for Brenda--on the one hand, she was thrilled to win the contest, but on the other, the grand prize came with a small catch--a very, very small catch. I'll have to get a few stones authenticated before I even consider this program. The Gnome agreed.

Brenda glanced at her clock: 4:48 A.M. Despite all the excitement, she felt drowsy. The Gnome urged her to get more sleep. She tried resisting his suggestion, but she didn't have the will. When the tiny being gazed at her, she felt safe--surprisingly safe, and calm and relaxed.

Brenda provided a temporary space for him in the corner of the living room next to some shelves. Although the Gnome said not to bother, she found a couple of pillowcases that would do as sheets, and one of her velvet scarves for a coverlet.

"Thank you very