Henry

Henry trips me up.
I stumble; hit my head off the wall.
Shaken, I turn to look at him and he just smiles.
Always that smile.
He never dares to look me in the eye; stares off into the distance; distracted.
And always that smile.
Sinister, eerie, inhuman.

We are in the living room. Thankfully.
It’s safer here.
For Henry is dangerous despite his diminutive stature.
It’s on the stairs I fear him most.
It’s on the stairs where he poses the greatest danger; where the biggest fall awaits me.
It’s on the stairs where he could prove fatal.

Now and then I shout at him and swear revenge, but just when I feel at my most murderous, I look at him and he gives me that smile.
Like a baby’s secret weapon, pulled at the last minute against the fraught mother, pushed to the brink by its incessant wailing.
The smile that stops me in my tracks and gets me to just flick the ‘off’ switch.

You probably wonder why I don’t throw him out.
After all, it is my house.
But the truth is I need him. It’s my choice.
Believe me, my life would be a mess without him.
And it’s not really all his fault. I must accept some responsibility for the ‘accidents’.

And, you see, I know Henry needs me too.
For he follows me round the house like a forlorn puppy, constantly whining at my heels.
Who would he whine to if it weren’t for me?

Then again, what cause would he have to whine if it weren’t for me?

But today, somehow, is different.
As I rub the spot where the wall made contact with my head and I feel the indifference of Henry’s smile burning into me like shame, something inside me snaps and I shout, ‘Fuck you, Henry! Fuck you and your smile!’ and I kick him so hard I knock him off balance and he falls.
Before there’s even time to reconsider, I run to the cupboard in the hallway where I’m sure there is a hammer. My heart is leaping in my chest as I fumble in the cupboard’s half-light, then my fingers find its distinctive non-slip handle. I grab it and run back to the living room to find Henry prostrate and helpless.


Even now, he smiles at me.
But this time it doesn’t stop me in my tracks.

I take the hammer and I smash and I smash and I smash at his face; raining down blow after merciless blow until that smile is no longer recognisable.

And when I’m spent, I feel a sense of release.
As I recover my breath, I feel no remorse; no guilt.
Even as I grasp the full horror of Henry’s destroyed features, I know it’s OK.
I know everything will be alright.
And suddenly I am bereft of fear.

I stand over Henry and I stare at the deathly grin I created out of that smile, and I say, ‘You know what, Henry? I can replace you. I can find another who can take your place and, who knows? maybe be even better than you.
And do you know why, Henry?

Because you’re only a fucking vacuum cleaner!’