Page 11 of The Incredible Kindness of Paper
“How perfect,” Chloe murmured.
A woman with long blond hair nodded at Thelma. “As soon as I saw your flyer in the Hell Room, I was sold. Priscilla gets lonely at home by herself.” The woman petted her perky Chihuahua, who was bouncing in her purse, eager to run off and play. “If you need residents to petition our landlord for approval, I’m on board.”
“Me, too,” the man in horn-rimmed glasses said. “And I can help with any paperwork you might need to file for a residential permit. I’m a clerk for the city.”
Thelma beamed at all the dogs around her. Rufus seemed happy, too, rushing around and sniffing all his new friends.
Chloe shook her head, mouth slightly agape. All this, because of one little thing she wrote? People in this building rarely ever talked to each other, unless it was strictly necessary. But now they were all banding together and building a small community.
As the dogs were released to get to know each other, Chloe slipped outof 1A, still not quite yet believing that her origami had been the inspiration for the Threadbare Countess—no, now she was Thelma the Terrier Lady—to start her own small business, rally the residents, and save herself from eviction, all in one fell swoop.
Chloe wondered about the receipt-turned-rose she’d lost at the park that morning. What if…?
“Nah,” she said out loud. There’s no waythatone had also been found like the one from the Hell Room.
But still…
Chloe walked out of her apartment building and over to the park, trying to slow herself down because she was pretty sure she was being ridiculous. The park was busier now, with kids on the small jungle gym, joggers stretching on the grass, and the young Italian guy who always showed up in the early afternoon on Saturdays to feed the pigeons.
He normally sat there alone, body slumped as if he was already worn out, even though the day was only half over. He’d tear off chunks of bread from a bakery bag labeledGiovanni’s Croissants & Baguettesand toss them to the birds, but his throws were usually lackadaisical, landing mere inches from his feet.
Today, though, he was tossing with gusto, making high, spiraling arcs in the air. And he was talking to someone on his earbuds.
Chloe didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he was so excited, he was practically broadcasting his conversation to the entire park. She hid behind a nearby oak.
“I’m so pumped!” he said. “You know how I’ve been complaining that the bakery has been bleeding money ever since I opened four months ago, and I should probably abandon ship? Like, Iliterallytold you it felt like a sinking ship. Well, today I got this weird mysterious message. And it was, like,waitingfor me on the path I always use to walk into the park—‘I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.’ I mean, fuck yeah, right?”
Chloe’s mouth dropped open.
“I know I just started this bakery,” the man—presumably the Giovanni from the name on the croissant bag—said. “And you told me I have to be patient. I can’t expect to be, like, selling out every morning when no oneknows me yet. I know that, Ol. Maybe I’ve gotta adjust what I’m doing, right? Like adjusting the sails on a ship. Maybe people are confused because I’m an Italian guy making French bread. So, like, I think I’ll add some Italian pastries. I can draw people in first that way, and then they’ll try my French stuff and realize, dude! Doesn’t matter if he’s Italian or French or what. This man can bake!”
The pigeons flapped cheerfully around him, fighting for crumbs. They clearly agreed that he could bake.
“Yeah, I hear you, Ol,” Giovanni said. “Cool, man, I’ll see you at jiu jitsu this afternoon.”
As Giovanni finished his call, Chloe leaned against the oak tree’s trunk and sank down onto the sun-warmed grass.Shehad done this. Sure, her words had accidentally made their way out into the world, but when they did, they really did make people happier. Just like for her students.
“Oh!” she gasped. What if she could put encouragement and joy in the pockets of more than her students alone? What if she could fold inspirational paper roses for more people and make even a small corner of New York a little more hopeful, a little less lonely?
Chloe’s heart danced a little jig at the thought. After the disaster of the last twenty-four hours, she felt more like herself now, like she might have some purpose again. At the very least, it would be a worthwhile way to pass the time while she figured out what to do about a job.
But she would need a lot more origami paper. And a much sunnier outfit than the awful gray hoodie and sweatpants she had on.
Oliver
Oliver spent the first part of Saturday in the office in Manhattan. There was nothing extraordinary about this as he often worked weekends, but today had felt more pressing than usual, because he needed to put in extra time to hopefully convince his boss that Zac didnotneed to be part of his quant program.
Midway through the afternoon, though, Oliver needed a break. So he gathered his jiu jitsu gear with plans to pummel out some of his work stress at the studio a few blocks away.
Chloe
Out in Astoria, Chloe popped into the little stationery store in her neighborhood. She smiled as she greeted Jackson, the teenage boy behind the register, then headed straight back to the aisle where the origami paper was kept. Except this time, the shelf was empty.
“Hey, Jackson? Looks like you’re out of my origami paper.”
Jackson walked down the aisle she was in and frowned at the shelf. “Yeah… there’s some big shipping issue going on. Boss says we might be out of stock of a bunch of stuff for a while.”
Chloe stared at the empty shelf. She needed that paper. How was she supposed to embark on her big, city-healing project if she couldn’t make her roses? She knew from experience that this shop was the only one within a reasonable radius that reliably carried a decent selection of yellow origamipaper. The best you could get anywhere else nearby was a rainbow pack with a measly few sheets of yellow.
