Horton
Legacy Name: Horton

Horton Humberplut was an incredibly plain man. It was true, no one would cast a second glance at such a plain man like Horton, if they did it was to ponder on how incredibly plain he was. He was a bit handsome, but he was plump with large ears, and he didn't have a lot of hair, off-setting his handsomeness, he was kind, but he could be unkind at times. He spoke in mostly monotone, he only ever got excited over the weekend newspaper crossword puzzles, which he had much fun figuring out. He wore comfortable clothes that was never in fashion or out of fashion, yes, Horton Humberplut was quite plain indeed, and he liked it that way. No one bothered him with any questions or small talk, he was perfectly fine with his two friends, one being an elderly woman who lived in the apartment above his who used to know his mother the other being the coworker who worked in the cubicle next to his, who would be as equally plain as Horton except he had a thing for bright trousers which he wore frequently.

Horton did not think much of anything, in fact, he was quite content in the daily rhythm he had. Get up, go to work, eat lunch, work more, come home, do a crossword, go out for dinner if it was Tuesday or Thursday, go home, and go to sleep. Questioning or pondering were for the non-plain you see, and, as already established, Horton was very plain. However, in a world that constantly changes, not everything can stay the same.

It started on a late Valentine's Evening, which so happened to fall on a Thursday. Horton made his way, like clockwork, to a diner that was neither too close to his apartment, nor too far. His thoughts were of what he was going to order, as he always ordered one of three dishes. The lasagna, the roast beef platter, or the hamburger. He had decided to order the roast beef platter as he walked in through the doorway, the bell making the same little jingle.

Now, it does not do for a plain man like Horton to be surprised, as surprises are very un-plain and thus he tried very hard to hold in his shock at the interior of the diner. The place was dressed in all pinks and reds, two colors that were far from the normal beige and cream tones of the diner. There were sweet love ballads playing throughout the diner replacing the elevator like music that Horton had grown rather fond of. Roses were put into shiny, clean glass vases, replacing the nearly dead indoor vine plants, and paper hearts hung from the ceiling, almost touching the top of Horton's head.

"Horton!" A woman called, beckoning him forward, this woman was the waitress who always served him, "Happy Valentine's Day! I kept your table open just for you!" Horton, still trying to keep his surprise contained almost forgot to give his customary nod to the waitress who, same as usual, guided him to his table, close enough to a window to be able to see out of it, yet also close enough to a door.

"I will have the Roast Beef Platter please and thank you with unsweetened iced tea."

"Got it, it'll be right out!"

Horton also noticed that the diner was more full than usual. Everyone in the diner was eating in a pair. Even the old man who usually sat two to three tables away had an elderly woman on his arm, dressed in a ridiculous looking suit and a pink bow-tie. Horton found it was becoming rather hard to keep his plain emotions in place as this was all so baffling. He was so caught up with this that when his food finally arrived he had to force himself to say his usual and polite thank you to the waitress, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, Horton ate his food quickly, of course, not too quick so as to be noticed, and had tipped 15% and was out the door back onto the street, only now, even the street seemed to have lost its usual sameness. He now noticed things he hadn't noticed before. The gentle smell of street food vendors, the hustle and bustle, and how interesting people actually were. It was quite troubling for Horton, who could not stand to be on the street another moment. He turned around and walked back into the diner, wanting to wait until this obvious sudden bout of illness had passed before he would walk back home.

"Horton?" The waitress asked, "Is everything alright? You never come back into the diner."

"Ah, yes," Horton stuttered, trying to regain his bearings, "It just occurred to me as I was out on the street that I would very much like a plate of apple pie."

"Oh well, alright, well your normal table was just taken," The waitress replied, seeming a bit embarrassed.

"That's fine, I'll have that booth over there."

The booth was very unlike Horton, the table was slightly closer to his gut than he would like- and he could not adjust, the seats were squishy and sank, but most of all, it was right near a window and underneath many pink streamers with balloons tied all around it.

"Okay," The waitress said, seating him down, "I'll get you that apple pie. Would you like a coffee?"

"Uh yes please, one sugar, one creme."

"I know," The waitress winked at Horton and walked towards the back to place his order.

It suddenly struck Horton that while this waitress had served him for as long as he could remember he never did quite pick up her name. It also seemed to occur to him that she was a very pretty sort of waitress. She was perhaps a bit younger than Horton (who was neither too young nor too old) and was a bit bigger around the middle, much like himself, with the kind of face that dimpled with kindness and eyes that were always warm.

It suddenly struck Horton that perhaps he should just leave. A thin sheet of sweat began to accumulate upon his brow as his heart began to thump rapidly- obviously a sign of his now turned fatal illness. Perhaps the waitress would be kind enough to phone the hospital? No, Horton decided as his heart rate once again sped up, he didn't think he would quite make it to the hospital in time.

"Here's your apple pie, Horton."

"Oh th-th-th-th-" Horton was not able to finish his sentence as she was already off, taking the order of another couple that had walked in.

It dawned on Horton that she had used his name, yet he did not know hers. It also dawned on Horton that she seemed to remember all the little things, like where he likes to sit, and how much extra gravy he likes (none), and how he likes his coffee. Perhaps he would ask for her name.

If I don't die of this strange bout of illness first, Horton thought to himself as he ate the apple pie. He found himself pleasantly surprised- he had never tried the apple pie before and it was perhaps the least plain thing he had ever eaten in his entire life.

Horton never knew he had such a sweet tooth. And as his heart-rate slowed down he figured the pie must be doing him some good.

Yet, as the pie slowly disappeared from his plate and the coffee was gone and as the waitress appeared to clear away his plates and give him his bill, he coughed.

"May I have another piece of apple pie?" He asked, the illness suddenly back. He was convinced that the pie was the cure to whatever he was ailing from and was loathe to part from it.

"My, my Horton, aren't we full of surprises today?" The waitress smiled and scribbled down a note on her note pad and walked away.

Horton ended up ordering four plates of pie, yet he was unable to finish the fourth. Being full was a foreign feeling to Horton, he always ate enough so that he was not hungry and rarely ate more. The diner was a lot more empty now and the waitress approached him once more- only this time in a large coat to protect herself from the cold.

"I'm about to get off work Horton, do you need anything else before I go?"

"Could you help me finish my pie?" Horton asked, surprising himself. Horton did not like surprises, yet he felt that perhaps he could tolerate this one as the pretty waitress smiled and sat across from him, picking up a spoon and tasting a piece of the pie.

"Apple pie is my favorite," the waitress confessed, taking another bite.

"What is your name?" Horton asked again, "It just happened upon me that you serve me every time I come to the diner, yet I do not know your name."

"Oh!" the waitress replied, "No I don't suppose you do know my name...It's Belle."

Horton thought it was a fitting name, but said nothing and sat in silence until the pie was gone. Belle picked up the plate and handed it to one of her friends in the back, then she turned and looked at Horton, who was also slowly getting up, seeing as how he had to pay his bill and leave- it was quite dark.

"Horton?" Belle asked as he paid his bill and was getting ready to leave, "Would you like to accompany me home?"

Horton surprised himself again by agreeing readily, she offered her arm to him, which he took and walked her home, which, to his surprise was across the street from his own.

Belle then surprised Horton by kissing him on the cheek before disappearing inside her home, closing the door.

Horton decided then that he quite liked surprises, even if he felt quite ill, and turned around to go back into his own home.

Years later, they would be married in a plain wedding with a guest list that was neither too big nor too small. The only thing extraordinary about the wedding was that instead of cake there were rows upon rows of fresh-baked apple pie.

If love can even find and strike a man as plain as Horton Humberplut, there is surely hope for the rest of us yet.

Credits: Any Art; RAGINGProfile; RAGING Story; RAGING Images; here