“What do you mean?” I might’ve barked that a bit sharply.
A flush climbed his neck to his cheeks. “Theo called me a few days ago, said you moved out.”
Moved out.“You mean, left the place I was squatting in illegally? He had no business telling you.”
“He sounded worried.”
Good.The hurt place inside me that hated the way Theo lied to me wanted him to hurt too.I hope he feels like shit.Except I didn’t, really. There was more going on with Theo than he’d told me, I was sure, and what he’d said didn’t make his past life sound like a bed of roses. “What did he tell you, exactly?”
Arthur pressed his lips together as if not sure what to tell me. “He said you guys split up?—”
“We were never together.”
That got me a twisted smile. “Yeah, he said the same. I didn’t believe him either.”
“We weren’t.” I had to be firm about that, squashing the temptation to go back and make up. There’d been nothing there to make up. “What else?”
“He was worried you might be living rough, might need money or a job. I told him you were a competent adult who’d managed for years and if you needed a job, you’d find one.”
“Thank you. Damned right.” I tromped hard on the bit of me that liked thinking someone worried about my next meal. I’d done well busking. I had almost seventy dollars in my pocket. I could sit down in a McDonald’s if I wanted… if I wasn’t rough-looking and bad-smelling enough for the manager to ask me to leave. Four days was nothing. I was fine.
“I’d offer you my couch, but I’m sleeping on it.”
“You are?” I welcomed a distraction from my own issues. “Why?”
“I needed a kitten room a while back. Couldn’t put them in with the dogs, couldn’t keep them out here around the computer, couldn’t mingle the adult cats with a litter that had all kinds of sneezing and snotting, so I used my bedroom. It worked well, but there’s always another litter of kittens. And when I tried to bunk in with them, I got zero sleep.”
“Dude,” I said firmly. “Start the damned shelter. You’re too big a guy to spend every night on a couch, and I mean that in a good way.”
He glanced off out the window. “Yeah, maybe, sometime.”
“This time. I’ll help.” I folded my arms, which reminded me I had slobber on my hands and dog-treat crumbs under my nails. “After I wash up.”
“What do you know about an animal shelter?” That was the closest to snippy I’d heard Arthur get.
“Not one fucking thing, except that you need to start.” I tried to remember what Theo had said, last time we were here. “You need to become a charity so people can donate. Start with that.”
“What Ineedis to get my work done so I can buy dog food.” He opened the bathroom door. “There are towels in that cupboard. The top shelf are human towels. Have a shower if you want one.” He trudged away, stomping harder than usual, sat at his computer, and stuck his headphones back on.
Well, that told me.I almost headed out the door, but he’d offered a shower and it was his stupid dogs that’d slobbered all over me. Instead, I stepped in the bathroom, slammed the door, and had a fast, angry shower. Except, about two minutes into the hot water and soap, my anger ran out.
It was always super easy for people to say,You should do this, you should do that, it’ll solve your problems.Like anything was that simple. Most folks had no idea the obstacles between you and simple. People who told me,apply for jobs, when I had no current ID, no home address for the forms, no phone to get callbacks, no recent employment experience, no good clothes for an interview, no way to get even my indecent clothes clean because the nearest laundry needed a credit card now and didn’t take quarters. There were a dozen unclimbable steps between me and anything but day labor.
Maybe there were unclimbable steps for Arthur that I wasn’t seeing. Or maybe it just felt like too much for him. I’d been there, had days when I was so tired that choosing which pitiful snack to eat out of my pack felt like more than my brain could handle. Let alone government paperwork like he’d have to do.
I toweled off with one of the clean but ratty towels from the bottom of the cupboard. No need to use the good stuff on me. Putting on dirty clothes wasn’t ideal, but I’d stashed my pack outside before ringing the bell, trying to look less desperate to Arthur, and I wasn’t running out commando for a slight improvement in cleanliness.
When I wandered into the front room, he looked over and took off his headphones. “Shane, I’m sorry I yelled?—”
“Dude, you didn’t even raise your voice. It’s cool. I just wish I could help.”
“Thanks.” He sighed. “You understand cats. Get some cat treats from the kitchen and go try to charm that semi-feral cat in condo two, the black one. I had people interested in him, but he was too skittish for them.”
“I can do that.”
The black cat was a half-grown boy. I spent half an hour tossing treats to lure him out of his condo. By the end, he would come up to my knee where I sat on the floor and let me touch his head and cheeks but anything more sent him jumping back. He’d take a treat from my hand on the floor, but not if I raised it. Every move I made was watched with wide-eyed suspicion. “I get it,” I told him. “I’ve met kids like you out on the street, the ones who’ve been hurt and have to be on guard. The young pretty ones.” I’d been young out there too, but mostly lucky. Not always. “You’re safe now and Arthur will feed you round as a butterball.”
“Well, I try not to,” Arthur murmured from behind me. The cat didn’t jump back. I guess he trusted Arthur.
