If Shoes Could Talk

“You’ve hear the line, ‘these boots are made for walking’? Well, what if I told you that they talked too? And not just boots – sandals, slippers, sneakers, stilettos – you name it and it can talk. I know how crazy this sounds, but you’ve got to believe me Dr. Brent, I’m not making this up. It all started two days ago . . .”

            “Quick! Get back into position!”

           

“Shhhh, she’ll hear you. I’m here.”

            “Hello?” Alana called out. “Is someone there?”

           

Alana rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and turned off the buzzing alarm. She looked around her dimly lit room, but didn’t see anything. She must have imagined the voices. She threw off the covers and put her feet into her warm, fleece lined, red slippers. She always placed them side by side next to her bed so that she didn’t have to look far for them. She snuggled her toes in as far as she could.

            On the way down the hall, Alana noticed that her right slipper was making a squeaking noise. She stopped walking, but the squeaking didn’t. She looked around, trying to find the source of the voices she could hear, “ . . . so then Lori said to Rori ‘Stop tripping me when you go up the stairs, you know I hate that!’ and Lori responded, ‘Well, if your laces would stay tied then we wouldn’t have this problem. Why do we have laces anyways, Alana doesn’t even use them!’ I’m so glad that we don’t have to deal with that! No laces, zippers or Velcro for us.”

            “That’s easy for you to say, Rhea – you never have any trouble with Alana’s right foot. Her left one is smaller. I’m always slipping off.”

           

“No pun intended, right Leah.”

            Alana stared down at her feet. Her boots don’t need laces? Her left foot is smaller than her right foot? What? She turned around and looked at her unmade bed. “I must still be asleep. This is only a dream.” She laughed at herself, and then pinched her arm. “Ow!” she yelped. Why did that hurt? She was dreaming, wasn’t she?

            “I told you to be quiet, Rhea, but oh no, you can’t listen to me because you’re always right! Now she knows about us.”

            Alana kicked off her slippers as fast as she could.

            “Wheeeeee!” yelled Rhea as she flew through the air.

           

“Heeeeeelp!” Leah called as she tumbled down the stairs towards the front door. She hit the landing with a soft thump. “Great. Now how am I going to get back upstairs?”

            Alana slowly looked around the corner to where her right slipper had landed. Was it moving? She ran to her room and got her old hockey stick. Gingerly she hooked the blade into the opening of the slipper and carefully carried it back to her bedroom. She opened the trunk at the end of her bed and dropped her slipper into it. Just to be safe she did up the latch. “Where did the other one go?” she asked, looking around the hallway.

            Down by the front door, Leah was wondering how she was going to get back to Rhea. She wriggled back and forth until she was turned around. There, resting in pairs, were three other types of shoes. Rhea must have snuck to the top of the stairs to listen to them gossiping earlier.

            Sleek, black, and elegant, the first shoes Leah saw were Lacy and Racy. They were stilettos and usually ignored the other shoes. After all, they were mostly on pedestals. They liked to remind everyone else how good Alana’s legs looked in them. Leah hoped they would be willing to help her now.

            The next ones were very tall, towering over Leah. They were grey and lined with micro fleece. Salt rimmed their soles and they had a zipper on the side as well as laces up the front. The laces on the right boot were undone. Leah smiled to herself as she thought of Rhea’s comments earlier. Rori did leave her laces undone.

            The final pair had their noses together and looked like they were planning something. After all, Rana and Lana were sneakers.

            Before Leah could say hello they bounced over to her. “So it looks like you’re in a bit of pickle,” said Lana. “Yeah,” added Rana, “maybe we could be of service, for a small fee of course.”

            All the while, Alana was peering around the corner at the top of the stairs. She was afraid to move in case her shoes realized that she was listening to them.

            Leah looked at Lana and Rana, “A fee? What kind of fee? It’s not like I have any money. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m more than a little threadbare.”

            “Don’t listen to them, darling,” Racy said. “It’s in their nature, but they’ll help you no matter what.”

            “Hey, you stay out of our business transactions!” said Lana indignantly. “You can’t blame us for trying.”

            Lori chimed in, “I have an idea. Why don’t you get on top of Lana, or Rana. They can jump you from step to step until you’re at the top. Racy and Lacy can help lift you up, and we can use Rori’s laces if they’re needed. Does this work?”

            “Work? We’ve never worked a day in our lives, except a runway,” said Racy.

            “We’re willing to help though,” added Lacy.

            “Perfect! Thanks everyone. I really appreciate it.”

            Alana had had enough. Brandishing the hockey stick she raced down the stairs to the landing.

            “What does she think she’s going to do with that?”

            “She doesn’t look so good.”

            “Is she supposed to be swaying like that?”

            When Alana woke up she was in a hospital bed. The last thing she remembered was running down the stairs. “Ah, you’re awake. My name is Dr. Brent, Alana. You’ve been unconscious for almost 36 hours. Can you tell me about how you got here?”

            “Dr. Brent, you wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you.”

            “Why don’t you try me?”

            “You’ve heard the line . . .” Alana began.

            A few hours later Dr. Brent was in his office writing down the notes from one of the strangest stories his patients had ever told him. Talking shoes? That girl had hit her head harder than he’d thought. As he got up from his desk, Dr. Brent slammed the toe of his left brown loafer into the leg of the desk. “Hey you, watch what you’re doing,” he heard a strange voice say. “You better be careful or Lenny and I are going on strike!”

“Yeah,” Renny piped up, “we should get hazard pay, or at least an extra shine if you’re going to treat us like that. If you don’t show us the proper respect, you might find yourself wearing a pair of cement shoes…”