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…

Wade opened the cabinet on Saturday morning, to see how the ham might have shrunk.

He stood there for a minute and scratched his chin. The ham was as big today as it had been yesterday.

Wade grabbed his knife again, and sawed off several good sized slices to sizzle up in the skillet. While they were cooking, he made up pancakes too.

Timmy was waiting at the table when the breakfast was ready. Wade set him out a good plateful, and Timmy dug into it with gusto.

Smiling, Wade began munching on his own heaping platter. Oh, that was so tasty!

Soon Timmy was off and running again. Ah, the impetuousness of youth!

Even Angie enjoyed a bit of ham before she headed out to meet with her whatever-it-was group.

“I’ll bring home some orange juice, Wade!”

He nodded as he savored another bite. Orange juice was a good idea, he thought. He wondered what had made her suggest it.

When Timmy came home, late in the evening, he was yawning already.

“I have food for you, buddy!” Wade called.

“No thanks, Dad. I’m not hungry. I’m really not. We had fun, and I guess there must have been snacks and punch and stuff. Anyway, I’m not hungry. I’ll just go up to bed.”

“Get cleaned up first, y’hear?” Wade made sure to get that in. He watched as Timmy climbed up the stairs. For some reason, now Timmy’s left leg seemed funny looking. Maybe it was clean too.

…

Day after day, Wade carved yet more ham off the unending supply in his cabinet. He tried different ways to prepare it, trying to mask the fact that it was the same meat day after day. But no one seemed to object.

Every way he prepared it, the meal was delicious!

Timmy was almost always at the neighbor’s house, but at least he was staying clean now. Except for the sparkly appearance, the boy never seemed to have any dirt on him at all.

The visits seemed to be very good for the boy. He was light-hearted and happy all the time, skipping across the room like a dancer, and going up or down the stairs with the same joyous energy. He seemed to almost glow with delight!

And then one day, Wade opened the cabinet, and the ham was gone. Nothing was in the cabinet at all, including one side of it, an opening through the wall that led toward the adjacent house.

Except … except for a long, curling piece of paper. With the curious stick-like figures of script on it, it almost looked like a scroll of parchment.

“Dear Neighbor/Doctor,

I will be leaving your neighborhood now. My rest and recuperation is at an end, for I find myself cured!

Yes, cured! I had come here at my last hope, anguished and in pain, with the throbbing, aching, swollen tentacle growing in a place no tentacle should be!

In my shame and pain, I thrust the painful protuberance into a wall-cavity, seeking only to conceal it from my attention and sight. How I was relieved one day, when the pain and pressure was suddenly reduced!

And how I was so delighted when your spawn came to me, so willingly surrendering his sweet flesh to my fevered appetites! I did not dare to consume him entirely, at least not all at once.

Instead, I arranged for his sweetness to be supplanted by a simple other-dimensional substitute. He was so deliciously happy, he did not even notice that his mass, and his very flesh, were being consumed, and that his body was slowly disappearing.

Yes, he surrendered his legs, and then his arms, and delicious tiny nibbles of his goodness that only brought joyful giggles and tear-filled laughter. Oh, those delicious tears! Oh, my! I am so grateful.

I AM SO GRATEFUL!!!

And then to discover that my ailment too, was being alleviated. My pain diminishing. My disfigurement disappearing … oh, Sir, you have no idea how pleased I am that I found myself in your blessed graces.

I could not in fairness to your delightful kindness and generosity, take away that essential part of you that I found so wonderful, and leave you nothing of it in turn.

Accordingly, in taking my leave of you, I return to you a part of the delightfulness that you extended to me, a complete and utter stranger to your realm.

I give you back your precious Timmy, although by this time of course, all of his tasty flesh has been completely consumed. I found enough of the genetic material to make two clones of him, so that you will have that delicious essence in full repayment, and I have completed the other-dimensional entity which mirrors his joyful exuberance and delight for all the joys of life.

You will also, no doubt, notice that this poor substitute for the original is not entirely the same. For that I apologize, as my workmanship is in sorry condition, with these last few centuries of neglect as I was distracted with other non-essentials.

Your spawn will not be able to enjoy the normal span of years that a human can normally expect. My poor imitation ability has simply made him immortal and ageless.

And now I must return to my own realm, inspired and energized, by you and your acts of inestimable kindness.

Good bye to you, and if by any chance your sweet, oh-so-sweet child should weep at my departure, by all means taste those delicious, sweet tears. I have never before enjoyed the like.

Good Day, Sir!”

Wade read through the scroll, again and again, turning to stare at the hole in his wall, and then back to the incomprehensible document.

“Timmy!” He bellowed at the top of his lungs.

There came a clattering and galumphing down the stairs. Light-footed, indeed!

Timmy came into the kitchen, and sat down at the table.

And then another Timmy came in and sat down.

And then another Timmy came in and tried to sit down, but tended to float upward from the seat. His brothers reached out and gently held him in place.

This Timmy was a sparkling, ethereal, glowing entity, with a smile of endless sunshine and joy.

“Hi, Dad!”, they said.

Wade looked at the document again, and then at his sons. A kind of a sound came out of his lips, but it was not of a language anyone understood.

“We’ve discovered that this one,” the boy on the left raised his hand, “who we will call Oliver, is left-handed.” Oliver shrugged his thin shoulders.

“And this one,” the boy on the right raised his hand, “is right-handed, so we will call him Dexter.” Dexter smiled his Timmy smile.

“And I am what’s left of the original Timmy,” Timmy the sparkly one said, as he rose up through the table and flew around the room. “I’m not a ghost, but I’m not quite sure what else I am. I think I’m going to have a lot of fun, though!”

The other Timmies nodded in smiling assurance that it was true.