Steve turned and walked back to the ambulance, got in, drove away.
The crowd dispersed, muttering to each other about what a shame it was, which old man from their building it could’ve been, etc.
Faye looked at the dumpster as she walked through the doors of her apartment building, her heart in her throat. Hoping to hell and back that today was not a pickup day.
Across the street, Edward Palermo, hidden in shadows till now, walked slowly away.
* * *
That day turned out not to be a garbage pickup day, but Faye thought she was going to have a heart attack every time she heard a big truck go by or, worse yet, pull into the apartment building’s parking lot.
The hours dragged like they were weighed down by immense anchors. Faye did everything she could think of to distract herself – watched TV, surfed the internet, played what felt like a thousand games of solitaire – but evening was slow in coming. The window of her apartment darkened by infinitesimal degrees. When night finally fell, it felt like a cool balm on her shoulders: her back and neck muscles relaxed, and she felt like she could pull in a full breath for the first time all day.
Just a few more hours, Henry. Hang in there. Just a handful of hours, then we’re safe.
And there was that word again. No matter how often she said it in her mind, it never felt true. What did she think was going to happen once he was inside? He’d get a job, they’d be roommates, and everything would work out just fine? Ridiculous. This was easily the stupidest thing she’d ever done, and she had no clue why she was even doing it. Sure, they’d been dating for about a year, but there was something more than that at work here. She felt it like a baseline thrum under her skin. Something compellingly, inherently strange. She didn’t understand her actions, but somehow they felt right. Was she saving him from something terrible? Probably. But what? What would actually happen to him if he was discovered?
Thinking these thoughts, puzzling over things from every angle, she drifted off into a fitful sleep.
* * *
Milo had huddled inside the dumpster with Henry, waiting for darkness.
Every once in a while, a building tenant would dump a bag of garbage or a piece of furniture on them, but other than that it was fairly silent. Just the sprinkling of snow and Henry’s strange heartbeat.
Milo wasn’t sure if it changed, but for whatever reason he was able to hear it quite distinctly. It wasn’t the regular heartbeat he’d had (and assumed Henry had, too); this one was a triple beat: thud-thud-thud… thud-thud-thud…
Henry nodded off a couple of times while Milo watched – each time groaning in his sleep, as if distressed by something. Milo could only imagine what weird new dreams Henry must be having. What dreams come when someone physically transforms into something else?
Once night fell, visits to the dumpster petered out entirely, and it was just the susurration of the nearby traffic that interrupted the quiet. Even the snow had let up for the most part.
Then, a few hours later, an engine that Milo recognized: an ambulance. He lifted himself out of the dumpster, hovered above the lip to see Steve pulling in.
What the hell was he doing back?
Steve got out of the vehicle, headed toward Faye’s building.
* * *
Faye’s breathing had steadied, and she was in a deep sleep when she heard faint knocking coming from somewhere. The knocking became more insistent as she surfaced through the thick webbing of her dreams. Suddenly, it was like the knocking was coming from inside her skull.
She groaned, sat forward, rubbed her head, then headed toward the door, wondering who the hell it was. She was expecting no one, and she didn’t have friends who just dropped by.
She opened the door a crack to see who it was, looked out into the hallway.
“Steve? Why are you here?”
Steve stood in the hallway, trying to put a look of concern on his face. It fit about as well as ten pounds of shit in a five-pound bag.
What Faye didn’t know, and what Steve wasn’t about to tell her, was that he’d thought of little else but Henry all day – and that, coupled with the fact that Henry’s transforming body had actually stuck in Steve’s mind (where in his normal form, it wouldn’t have), explained his presence here now.
“Just thought I’d see how everything went. Didja get him in yet?” He poked his head around the side of the door, trying to get a peek inside.
“No, I was –” she glanced back to the couch where she’d fallen asleep “– just watching some TV, playing some games, then I guess I nodded off.”
“Oh, well, you gonna get him? Want some help?”