Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
"The doors are now closed," came the nasal announcement through the loudspeakers. "All guests should have exited the building now. Once again, all guests please exit the building. The doors will open again at nine tomorrow morning."
The last of the stragglers completed their purchases and trooped out, leaving the convention center a chaos of overflowing garbage cans, fallen seasonal cheer, and more mismatched gloves than a kindergarten lost-and-found.
Next to Cassidy, River slumped in exhausted, thank-god-I-can-stop-smiling relief. He’d witnessed two more of the cats get adopted that afternoon, and heard River tell a little girl who was disappointed that they didn’t have what she’d called a "jam cat" (which her mother clarified meant an orange cat) that they’d have an orange tabby cat the next day. They’d kept their smile on the whole time, but now that it had fallen, the toll this was taking was evident.
"I’m sorry you’ll miss them," Cassidy said.
He’d intended it to be quiet, intimate. But after needing to almost yell all day to be heard over the din, it came out much louder than he’d intended and they both winced.
"Thanks. I’m gonna probably go home and sit in the playroom with all the cats for a while."
"You have a lot of cats at home too, then?"
They looked confused for a moment, then shook their head. "I live at the cat shelter. Well, in an apartment above it. Same building. So I spend a lot of time with them. Too much, probably," they added.
"I know what you mean," Cassidy deadpanned. "Although all the animals I hang out with are dead."
River snorted with amusement.
"Yeah, listen, about that …"
They looked at the wall, where a beautiful moose head with long lashes and glorious antlers hung.
"I’m sorry. About what I said earlier. I didn’t know that your whole thing was not killing animals. And knowing that, they’re really beautiful. I’m sorry I judged you."
"Don’t worry about it," Cassidy said. "I’m not."
That was true. It was plain that River had spoken out of care for animals and he’d never be angry at someone for that.
They smiled and went back to packing up the cats’ accoutrements.
"Do you need help getting everything to the parking lot?" he asked.
All he wanted in the entire world was to lie down in a dark room, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to take leave.
"No. Thanks, though. I’ve got the shelter van right outside. You should get out of these lights."
"I think I will. See you tomorrow." And then, for no reason that his conscious mind could justify, what came out of his mouth next was, "Sleep well, River."
Something like panic or desire flashed in River’s eyes for a moment and then was gone.
"Okay," they said.
CHAPTER 6
River
"Is that you guys?" River called toward the dark playground. They should’ve brought a flashlight. The light in their phone did little to cut through the rural winter dark.
"Nooo," came a lilting, spooky voice from near the shadow of the play structure, "Ve vant to suck your bloooooood."
"Well, thank goodness someone does."
They walked in the direction of the voice. As they approached, they could just see the cherry of Nate’s cigarette burning a hole in the darkness.
Nate was reclining on top of the metal play structure and Tracy was a few rungs below, legs wound through the bars. She jumped down like a giant spider and skittered toward River.
"You have arrived, Oh Holy One," she intoned—a joke left over from high school, when River wore every garment they owned to holes and tatters. A few curls of her blonde hair poked out the bottom of her knit hat and glitter streaked her eyebrows, twinkling in the moonlight.
"I dunno if we can hang out here anymore," River said. "I kinda feel like a creep."
"It’s not like there are kids here," Nate said, shrugging and slithering off the play structure. He threw an arm around River’s shoulders in a casual hug. "Hey, Riv."
He offered River a cigarette, which they declined. He took a metal cigarette case from his other pocket and opened it to reveal four perfectly rolled joints.
"Bless you, my child," River said, plucking a joint from the case and lighting it off Nate’s cigarette.
"How’s the big city?" they asked Nate. "I thought you weren’t getting back into town until Christmas."
Nate had left for Los Angeles in September, determined to break into special effects in the movie industry.
A shadow crossed Nate’s usually placid face.
"Yeah, I uh. I don’t think that’s gonna work out." He chewed his lower lip, a habit River hadn’t seen him do for years. "There’s no way to get hired unless you know someone in the business and there’s no way to meet people in the business unless you, like, already know someone in the business. Or sleep with them. Or do drugs with them. Which, sign me up, but how?"