Maximum Occupancy

Let me start by saying I’ve made some bad choices in life. And let me further that thought that expressing that I’ve been the victim of many bad things. Some were a result of the former, while others were simply the result of random bad luck. 

A combination of the two left me on the streets with no place to go. Generally I found myself sleeping under bridges. To say I preferred it that way was a gross understatement. If I had my preference, I’d curl up in a soft bed with a roof over my head, but since that wasn’t an option, a bridge was my best bet.

The bridge offered several advantages. First and foremost, they sheltered me from the elements, or at least, the rain. The sharp concrete incline beneath the bridges made it difficult for unexpected guests to sneak up on me. There was also a slim corridor at the top of the incline, probably constructed so maintenance people have room to work. This provided me with a makeshift bed along with a little room for my meager provisions. 

It wasn’t a Holiday Inn, but it beat the alternative.

One night, I arrived at the bridge after a long absence. I’d been out of town, trying to find work for about a month. I returned to town, both rejected and dejected, wanting nothing more than to put my feet up, even if it was under a bridge. I walked under the bridge, and then my blood went cold.

The bridge was already occupied.

By a massive troll.

After first I wondered if I was seeing what truly slumbered before me. Above me, cars moved across the bridge, unaware of the sleeping monster right beneath their wheels. My mental health was not the greatest - it was one of the side effects of a life among the desperate - but I knew one thing to be true - this was no hallucination.

I started to move, but the massive creature’s one eye rolled open, and then…it spoke.

“I smell the blood of a human,” it said in a booming, gravelly voice.

“I imagine you smell lots of humans,” I replied. “It would seem to be an occupational hazard.”

“This particular human has jokes,” it replied in a low tone. “I wonder if he will taste as salty as his tone.”

“I’ll run,” I said. “I’ll flag down a car. You’re big, but I’ll bet you can’t outrun a Prius.”

The troll regarded me for a minute.

“I will give chase.” he said. “And even if you could find help, would someone really pick you up given your…condition.”

The troll had a point. He was massive - probably the size of a small house - and should he decide to chase me, I doubted I could make it topside before his massive, hairy hands scooped me up and he gobbled me up.

And even if I made it to the top of the bridge, there was no guarantee there would be a car waiting to pick me up - or that the driver would want to risk giving a ride to a smelly homeless man ranting about trolls under a bridge.

Still, I did my best to keep a brave face - it was my only option after all.

“One way to find out,” I said.

The troll was silent for a moment.

“It appears we are at an impasse,” the troll said. “It seems.”

“So it seems,” I said with confidence, though my blood felt as cold as ice.

The troll thought about this for a moment and then spoke once more.

“Since a game of speed won’t do,” it said. “It seems a game of wits is our only recourse.”

“So it would seem,” I agreed, though I had no idea what the troll was talking about.

“I will ask you a riddle,” he said.

“And if I’m right, you’ll leave?” I said, crossing my chest impatiently.

The troll moved his massive nose towards me. “If you win, you will continue to draw breath.”

The troll then spoke, “What has a neck but no head.”

This one I knew. It was a joke my AA sponsor always told.

“A bottle,” I said. 

I pressed my advantage, “Guess you’ll be on your way then.”

The troll ignored me.

“I am easy to lift, but hard to throw,” he said.

“A feather,” I replied after a couple seconds of consideration.

The troll started to ask, but I quickly interrupted him.

“My turn,” I said.

“That’s not how this works,” the troll started.

“Then I will take that as a sign that you are afraid,” I replied.

The troll looked strangely serious for a moment, as he was momentarily hurt. 

“Fine, human,” he said. “Ask your question.”

“Who has married many women but is never married?” I said.

The troll gave me a look of confusion. The question seemed so obvious, yet for all intents and purposes, the troll was stumped.

“Human courtship is a realm I know nothing about,” the troll finally said.

“Then you concede,” I said.

The troll sat up, and for a moment, I was afraid his massive head might scrape against the bottom of the bridge. 

“You have won this game, human,” the troll said. “The bridge is yours.”

And with that, the massive troll rolled into the adjacent river and swam away. I took my regular place in the crevice of the bridge, but I didn’t sleep a wink, for I was fearful the troll would return.

Fortunately, he did not.

In the morning, I decided I needed to find a new bridge. This one was certainly not safe, and while the troll had not returned, I didn’t feel like sticking around. Fortunately, I would need to. Nestled within the confines of the bridges I found seven diamonds as big as a pineapple.

I knew then my days of sleeping beneath bridges were over.