There is a monster outside the door to my apartment.  It’s only half my height and its body looks like stone heated from the inside so it glows orange at the joints.  It stares at me with eyes of fire.  It never blinks.  It never breaks eye contact.  It’s always there, down the hall from my apartment door, peaking around the corner.  It’s always looking at me.  I wish it would stop.

I spied on the monster today.  It looks at everyone when they walk by, but no one looks back.  They never bump into it, though; I wonder why.  I would ask someone about it, but if I’m the only one to really see it…  When the people go away, however, the monster stares at my door and the fire in its eyes gets brighter.

I had to take the stairs back up to the apartment today; the elevator was broken.  I’ve never had to walk by the monster before; the elevator is down the other end of the building, but the stairwell is down the hall with the monster in it.  I went up the stairs as quietly as I could.  I came out of the stairwell expecting the monster to be facing away, but no.  It was staring at me as I stepped into the hall.  I froze.  It kept looking at me.  I backed up slowly.  It kept looking at me.  I quietly cursed and walked down the hall towards the monster.

As I got closed I could smell sulfur.  Each breath the monster made sounding like billows at a furnace; in between each squeeze of the bellows I could hear the faint grinding of stones as the monster’s head slowly moved to track me as I walked.  I was going to say something, but my nerve failed me.  I just kept walking.  I was almost by the thing, almost finally done with this little ordeal, when I noticed that it had something in its hands.  Charred and dented, a small tin cup was clutched between stone fingers.  The monster held it out to me the same way the beggars held out their cups out in the streets.  I paused.  I stared at the cup.  I though of all the times people walked by without noticing the little monster, like they couldn’t see it.  I thought of all the grifters I’d met and all the warnings I’d heard about giving money to beggars.  Then I thought of my change from lunch.  $1.42.  In what will forever be the most awkward moments of my life, I plunged a hand into my pocket like my life depended on it, trying to wring every cent out of my pants.  I shakily put the money in the cup as the monster stared.  It looked down at the cup for a moment and paused, then it looked back up at me.  It blinked.  Then, in a deep gravelly voice older than the sun, it said “thank you.”  I ran to my apartment and hid under in my bed for the rest of the evening.

The next day, two things happened: the monster was gone, and I had won the lottery.  I hadn’t even bought a ticket, but sure enough, there it was in the same pocket I had pulled the money out of for the monster.

Fifty-seven years have passed and I’m old and dying now.  The monster came to me a few times over the years, every time waiting within a short distance of the door to wherever I lived.  I never knew when it was coming, but by some odd coincidence whenever it did I had exactly $1.42 to put in its cup.  And I put that money in every time as soon as the monster appeared.  Each time it said thank you in that soul-rattling voice.  And each time, on the next day once it disappeared, something amazing happened.  I won couple contests for this and that.  I also escaped death by inches a few times; the most notable being when a piano fell off a building like you’d see in old comedy routines, thing missed me by a step.

My time has come, I think.  The monster is at the doorway to my room in the hospital.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, thing even found me on a vacation to Maui once.  The monster holds out the cup, but I can’t get up.  I shake my head at it and show that I can’t move.  It nods at me and starts walking slowly towards me, eyes ablaze.  By coincidence, I happen to have $1.42 from when my son was here earlier; he’d cleaned out his pockets trying to find a note from the doctor.  I don’t think it’s here for just the $1.42 this time.  I think, finally, that I may get to find out where the thing comes from.  It’s here for me this time.

There once was a boy with a house for a head. See, the boy’s mother sold houses and she loved her job so much it seemed natural for his head to be like that. The house had two stories with big windows and those black decorative shutters that didn’t actually close. A chimney shot up the left side where his ear would have been. Instead of a mouth there was navy blue front door; while the two windows on the front of the second floor were bigger than the rest and were probably his eyes. When he spoke it sounded like someone was talking from the other side of the door, but the door never opened. Overall, it looked like a dollhouse was perched right on the end of the boy’s neck. The boy’s parents loved him very much and always treated him like any other kid.

The boy was named Jacob, and he tried very hard to be normal. He went to school, did his homework, and scraped his knees a lot. Unfortunately, Jacob still had a house for a head and got teased a lot by the other kids. One day during recess, Jacob got hit in the head with a runaway ball and it put a big crack in the side of his house. The crack was ugly and Jacob worried it would never go away. The nurse couldn’t do anything and Jacob’s dad didn’t have any tools tiny enough to fix it. Jacob was taken to the hospital, but the doctors were as clueless as they were when he was born. One morning a few days later, Jacob woke up to find the crack was fixed and there was a tiny repair bill in little mailbox next to the front door on his face. He never realized he had a mailbox, let alone that anyone would send mail to his face. Jacob’s parents were surprised, but they gladly paid the bill and promised to do so with any other ones Jacob might get in the future.

As time passed Jacob realized there was furniture inside his head. It always stayed in place no matter how much he shook his head. Looking at a mirror Jacob saw a tiny library with little books, a living room, and if he caught the light at just the right angle he could make out a bedroom behind the windows on the top floor. His mom excitedly told him about the granite countertops she could see in the kitchen through the windows on the back while his dad would look at the bathroom and often say “I wish our bathroom was that big.” Jacob just wished he could open the front door and eat some food for once.

At school the mean kids teased Jacob even more, but it was hard for them to do anything other than talk because Jacob’s head was a house and was much stronger than their little meaty hands. When the teasing was at its worst, Jacob would always wonder what kind of people would live in the house in his head, hoping they would come out and tell the mean kids to go away because they were scaring the pet cat. But no one ever came out of Jacob’s head. It wasn’t even until Jacob was twelve that the first light came on.

It happened in the middle of the night: Jacob felt like someone was shining a flashlight in his face and he woke up. He couldn’t see where the light was coming from, so he did what everyone else does when they wake up in the middle of the night: he went to the bathroom. Everywhere he looked things seemed to be brighter and he couldn’t figure out why. Finally, Jacob saw himself in the mirror. Or rather, he tried to, but the light in the bedroom on the second floor of his head was on so whenever he looked at it he had the same trouble that he had when he tried to look at the sun. Jacob woke his mom up, and she told him that it was probably just a sign that he was getting older. She sat with him until he got sleepy and the little light turned off. Whenever it got dark after that, different lights in Jacob’s head would turn on. Jacob was very surprised to find that there was a light above the front door on his face.

Jacob got older still, but he grew up pretty much the same as a normal kid. He never needed an umbrella, though, since his head had gutters that spewed the rain out behind him. He was still teased at school, but he got used to it and he had a lot of friends in high school. Jacob was never able to get a girlfriend, though; he figured no one wanted to kiss a front door. During his senior year, the roof on the top of his head sprung a leak so whenever it rained his echoed with the pings of water drops falling into pans and such. After a week or so he woke up in the morning, and just as with the crack from the ball, the roof was fixed and there was another tiny bill in the mailbox on his face. By now, Jacob was old enough to wonder who was making the repairs and leaving such tiny invoices. He asked his dad who he paid the money to, but it turns out the payments were simply put in the mail. Jacob would have bothered about it more, but exams were coming up and he had to pick a college to go to.

By his junior year in college Jacob was pretty content with his house. People were pretty used to it at this point and he didn’t get teased very often. Every once in a while something in his head would break down, but sure enough a few days later it’d be fixed and there’d be a little repair bill in the mail. Various pieces of furniture in his head would change, too, presumably getting replaced by new pieces. Sometimes Jacob could almost hear footsteps or running water or some other sign of activity from within the home on his shoulders, but whenever he looked in it still looked devoid of life. One night, though, Jacob could definitely hear the faucet in the kitchen at the back of his head dripping. He couldn’t sleep for the noise and unfortunately, his professor didn’t believe him when he gave that as a reason or being late. Thankfully, the faucet didn’t leak again.

After graduation, Jacob got an office job in the city and got to the subway everyday. Jacob was always amused at the site he must have a made: little two story house with a suit and tie just sitting there reading the paper. His head got caught in the door once and Jacob spent two weeks in the hospital. Of course, the doctors couldn’t do anything but sit and watch as each morning Jacob’s head was fixed little by little until Jacob finally got the bill. Fortunately, the hospital didn’t charge Jacob for the stay since there was nothing they could do but observe, but he still had to take out a small loan for the repair bill.

Several years passed and Jacob became very lonely. He lived by himself in an apartment and while he could buy a house in the suburbs, he simply didn’t see a point if it was just him. Sure, he had friends and his parents, but he was at the age where he wanted a family of his own. What he really wanted was for that family to live in a house just like the one he had for a head. Jacob thought it would be funny for his descendants to see pictures of him with a head identical to his house. Well, at this point, Jacob would simply have been happy if there was even a little family in his head as things were even lonelier at night when he’d lay in bed and watch the light from his windows cast shadows around the room.

Jacob grew worried, though, because as the people he knew started to get the odd grey hair or wrinkle, he was getting the odd dent and the siding for his little house was starting to look pretty weathered. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he woke up one morning and the aluminum siding was stripped off. Jacob was surprised nonetheless. He’d seen a lot of weird things with this house head of his, so the shock quickly gave way to curiosity as he was suddenly able to count the studs going across some of the walls and even poke at the odd little patch of insulation here and there. After a day or two with a naked face it occurred to Jacob that the color of the siding might be different next time he woke up. He hoped for a sky blue, or at least something less tacky than some of the houses his mom would point out to him when he was little. Sure enough, the following morning Jacob woke up with a brand new set of white aluminum siding and another bill. The shutters were a different color and style, now: they had curly edges and were now the same shade of navy blue as the front door. Jacob finally had a good idea of what it felt like to have a really smooth shave.

Jacob was in his forties now. His career had advanced well, but he still lived in an apartment. He no longer rode the train as he finally had a reserved space in the parking lot for a car he bought specifically for it. His parents were retired and spending their days in idle bliss while his friends had all settled down with their own families or gone abroad. Jacob figured that he would spend the rest of his life working, not alone but never quite not alone. Then he met Sally.

Sally was a girl born with a tiny person living on top of her head. A little man, he never spoke or really did anything other than watch. As Sally got older, other little people would come and go, but as far as she knew, they never did anything either and the little man never went anywhere. Finally, a little woman appeared next to the little man and the two were never apart after that. One day a child showed up, which made Sally kind of mad because unlike the parents, the little child would sometimes climb around in her hair and it could be very painful. When she met Jacob, there were two kids, but the eldest one finally reached the point where he wouldn’t crawl in her hair anymore.

Jacob met Sally when he was looking for, of all things, a house. From the moment they met, they were in love. The little people on Sally’s head looked at Jacob with a certain eagerness, but still wouldn’t leave her. After a month, Sally and Jacob were married. A few weeks later the movers had finished setting up their house, a white two story house identical to Jacob’s head, just like he wanted.

Jacob and Sally, nervous and excited, stood on the walkway leading to the front door. They hugged, and the little people on Sally’s head finally ran into Jacob’s head, but they had to go through the windows because the front door still wouldn’t open. Jacob felt complete, but his head also felt very heavy. Something felt weird. Jacob went to turn his head but the house was slow to respond. Suddenly things felt very loose and when Jacob went to support the house with his hands, it came right off and revealed a normal human head underneath. He set the house down in the grass and watched as the little people were starting to live their normal lives. Jacob looked at Sally to see her reaction, but she was merely standing there smiling at him. He stood up and watched as their two children ran by them towards the front door. “Lost your head for a minute, dear?” Sally said to him.

Jacob looked back where he had set the little house down, but it was gone. He looked back at Sally and the house up the walk. All at once he could remember the years in that house: buying furniture, fixing the leaky faucet, and the time they had the siding replaced. “No, I think I just found it.” Jacob and Sally walked hand in hand up the walk to the front door. The front door finally opened.