Page 23 of Pet Project

Scott:

Does anyone know what he even does for work?

Jay:

I’m not sure but whatever his job is, I’m going to be convincing him to quit. This is too damn far away from home and school for him to be relying on rideshare.

Eli:

Where are you picking him up?

Jay:

Aspinwall

Lucky:

Wait a second… Toby’s job isn’t in Aspinwall. Heworks by the community college and takes a bus most of the way. He only has to use rideshare to get back and forth from the university since the bus runs between the two schools. Why is he all the way out in Aspinwall?

Setting down my phone, I figure I can at least help my new roommate clear out the room while he is downstairs. First I start taking all of the boxes from the trash side down the stairs to put in the dumpster. I will start hauling the keep boxes into what I’m assuming would be the dining area, if there was a table, once I get the trash all thrown out.

I do notice that the corner gets excellent light for a big bean bag chair for kitty naps…

Nope! Not gonna scare away my new roommate who doesn’t know the first thing about kitten play.

Before I can get the door open, the bottom rips out and various pieces of hockey stuff spreads over the the hardwood floor. I might not know much about hockey, but I’ve watched a few Pens games with the rest of the house, so I know that anything with Mario Lemieux or Sidney Crosby on it is valuable at the very least for nostalgia. I must have been confused on which pile of boxes were trash.

I hurriedly unpack one of my boxes that’s just clothing and neatly repack the box of hockey stuff. The Lemieux jersey looks like it would fit Lucky, not a grown man, so I’m certain it’s a special memento from his childhood. As I hold it up to get the wrinkles out and fold it, I notice there’s a signature on the belly of the penguin.

I definitely got the piles mixed up. There is no chance in hell that he meant to throw away this stuff.

29

DONNIE

After locking up my office, I decide I should go upstairs and find out what Shiloh wants to do for dinner. I forgot to get his number before heading down to close up, so I should probably rectify that while I’m at it. As soon as I lock the door between the shop and the private hallway that leads back to the stairs, I feel a draft coming from somewhere.

As I clear the corner, I see the back door propped open with the two by four with a few boxes sitting inside. I hear the lid slam open on the dumpster and smile at the realization that my new roommate decided to help me haul my trash away. Picking up the closest box, I’m surprised by the weight of it.

Is this one of his?

Setting it back on the floor, I pull open the tape to see nothing butreceipts.

SHIT!

I race out the back door to see Shiloh struggling to lift a box over the lip of the dumpster.

“WAIT!” I call out, but not before the box tips over the edge of the metal box and disappears into God only knows what that is inside.

Shiloh shrinks back against the bin and I am mentally kicking myself for yelling at him. I want to comfort him, but first I have to salvage whatever has already gone into the dumpster. Hoisting myself up over the edge, I can see it was only the one box, and I sigh in relief that it landed on some cardboard and not the coffee grounds that I just tossed an hour ago.

“I’m s-s-s-sorry. I was trying to b-b-be help-hel-helpful.”

I drop to the ground and pull the stuttering man into my arms. Eric’s warning about touching Shiloh doesn’t even register in my head until well after I’m holding his trembling form. If he makes a move to want to get away from me, I’ll release him immediately, but at this point, I think it’s better to not make a thing out of it until he does.

“It’s okay,” I whisper while twirling the end of one of his braids. “I wasn’t clear enough on what was trash. It’s not your fault.”

I feel a slight push against my chest, so I step back and release Shiloh from my embrace. I don’t know what I expected to see, but it sure as shit wasn’t surprise and possibly anger.

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