Page 26 of Did It Have To Be Gnomes?!
Miles had a motherfucking firebird.
In his home.
Who in their right mind let one of those things inside? Who in their right mind kept it in a bathroom that was set up like a giant cage with food, water, toys, and a huge perch over the top of the tub? Who treated a firebird like a pet?
Odin started pawing at the door, trying to push his way inside, and I cringed. I had no idea if he got along with the firebird or if he wanted to eat it—or if the firebird wanted to eat him—so I nudged the cat back with my foot so his paws wouldn’t get caught and shut the door.
Then I just stood there in shock for a few minutes.
A firebird.
In the house.
What the hell was he thinking?
As soon as I made it home, I greeted Goliath. He started prancing around, but since he was as big as I was, he nearly bowled me over. With a small laugh, I bent down and pulled the big dog into a hug.
“Heya, buddy. It’s alright. I’m home now.”
His tail thumped against the back of the couch as he gave me slobbery doggie kisses.
“You wanna go for a walk?”
He knew that word and started tip-tapping around, so I grabbed his leash and headed back out with him in tow.
Of course, I walked past Miles's house, but everything was quiet and the lights were still off, so hopefully he was sleeping off the migraine.
And hopefully he’d call me when he woke up.
Goliath and I made it around the neighborhood, and I waved to a couple of people along the way. We came to a street that had an empty house on it—it was for sale, and had been for months—and movement caught my eye.
Curious, I stopped and watched a kid dressed in all black with a backpack slung over one shoulder do something to the house’s side doorknob before glancing around. I ducked behind the fence so he didn’t see me, and luckily, the fence was high enough to cover Goliath too. After a beat, the kid went inside the house.
I straightened and debated what to do for a few seconds. Should I call it into the police?
That thought made me grimace. After what I’d gone through, I didn’t really trust the system to be fair to people, and I didn’t want to be responsible for messing up some kid’s future.
I could call the number on theFor Salesign, but they’d probably call the police too.
Or I could just let the kid be.
He was either going in there for sex or drugs—which, for some reason, I had a feeling neither of those things was it—or he wasgoing in there for shelter. Something told me it was that last option.
I didn’t want to be the reason some kid was stuck sleeping on the street either.
After staring for a long time, Goliath nudged my hand with his nose to get me moving again, so I kept walking down the sidewalk.
I supposed I’d let it go.
If I heard about a problem there, I’d call it in, but my gut was telling me to let the kid be.
By the time I made it back to my house, I needed a shower, so I took care of that, fed Goliath some food, checked his water, and sat on the couch with my phone on my knee. I debated for about two seconds before dialing my best friend.
They were the only person to stick by me during my prison sentence. They were the only person who even came to visit me since my parents disowned me, and my siblings followed their lead. Lyric was all I had.
They were my family, and I really needed to talk to someone right now. Who better than my bestie?
“Hey, boo. How was it?”
