Night In The Woods: The Final Night

Chapter 1: The Death of Mr. Penderson
Neighbors flocked to the police car and ambulance parked outside the Borowski’s, but received quite the shock when they heard that they weren’t there for something that Mae did. Mae had been sound asleep when sirens caterwauled outside her window. She jolted awake and began fumbling for her laptop, something in her dreams convincing her that the noise was coming from her computer and she had to put a stop to it. It took her a few moments to notice the flashes of red and blue glinting through her window.

“Eff the cops…” she mumbled, plodding down the steps in her pajamas (a shirt that turned see-thru in the wash and a pair of old gym shorts that had bleach stains on them). She looked around the den, squinting at the light emanating from the lamp on the nightstand. She heard voices outside, and saw her mother’s green bathrobe amongst the many shifting silhouettes.

“Mom..?” she called, leaving the front door open and standing on the porch. “Mom, what’s happening..?”

Her mother turned and wordlessly motioned her over. Mae came to her side, rubbing the sand from her eyes with one paw.

“Where’s Dad? Is everything okay?” Mae asked, just now realizing that the ambulance outside meant that someone had gotten hurt bad. Mae’s mother put an arm around her, which didn’t do much to dissuade the younger cat’s worry until she finally spoke.

“Your father is fine, hon, he’s talking with the police. It’s Mr. Penderson.”

Mae looked over and saw that her grouchy neighbor’s front door stood wide open. Two paramedics, a crow and a grey wolf, wheeled a gurney through the opening, its occupant completely covered by a tarp.

“He’s dead?!” Mae exclaimed, a little too loudly. The two paramedics looked at her briefly before exchanging sympathetic looks with one another. They must have thought Mae and Mr. Penderson were close.

“He was a very old man, hon. He probably passed on in his sleep.” Mae’s mother said, reassuringly squeezing her shoulder.

Mae didn’t reply. She was busy remembering just yesterday, when she passed by Mr. Penderson on her way back from the Video Outpost “Too.” He was slowly ambling up Main Street, and paused to knit his wrinkled, scaly brow at her.

“So you finally decided to pull your weight, have you?” The alligator wheezed.

“If that means I got a job, yeah. What’s it to you?” Mae asked venomously.

“I know what you are, lil’ miss. You’re mighty lucky this town gave you a second chance. If it were up to me-”

“Yeah, whatever. You’d scold me even if I cured cancer.” Mae said, cutting her neighbor off. She just wanted to go home and nap, not listen to the sour old coot berate her.

“Hmph.” was the only response she got as Mr. Penderson puttered past her, although Mae heard him mumble something about the youth of today. She headed home and curled up in her blankets, in an even worse mood than when she clocked out.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she hoped Penderson died when she was trying to fall asleep that night. It made her feel a little better.

“Mae, Candy, step back just a hair.”

Mae was snapped out of her guilt when her Aunt Molly passed in front of her, unraveling a long yellow line of police tape.

“Molly, what are you doing?” Mae’s mother asked. “This isn’t a crime scene. Mr. Penderson was almost ninety!”

“Just following orders.” Molly replied, tying the tape to a fence post before entering the house. Mae frowned and looked at her mother, who simply shook her head. Mae’s father, in an undershirt and fuzzy red pajama bottoms, approached them, immediately placing a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“Are you alright, kitten?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Aunt Mall Cop put up crime tape.” Mae replied.

“She did, didn’t she?” The family went quiet after that, watching Aunt Molly and another police officer talk in Mr. Penderson’s sitting room. Molly eventually noticed them through the window, and she drew the curtains.

“We should probably go to bed.” Mae’s mother said shortly after the curtains were drawn. “We all have work tomorrow. I’ll talk to Molly about all of this tomorrow morning.”

The three of them went inside. At the base of the stairs, Mae’s father turned to Mae, her mother pausing halfway up the stairs and looking down at them.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Mae? I know you and Mr. Penderson weren’t by any definition close, but…”

“I’m okay, Dad. Thanks though.” Mae said, giving a half-hearted smile. The two of them hugged before heading upstairs to bed. Mae stared out of her window for a while before turning away, the red and blue lights dancing on the wall and keeping her awake for a long while before she drifted into a fitful sleep.

---

Mae woke up before her alarm, the worst feeling in the world. She hated the irritating, buzzy noise the digital clock made, but she hated anticipating it even more. She was happy to be working, but she wished there was a way to wake up without that stupid alarm clock.

She rolled out of bed and rummaged through her dresser for some clean clothes. After settling on her favorite orange T-Shirt with the crossed out zero and some baggy jeans, she found her name tag (Hello! My name is MAE) in a pile of dirty clothes and trudged downstairs. She had Angus to thank for netting her the job at the video store. The deer that worked the night shift quit in April to pursue a modeling career, and Angus immediately approached his manager and told him about Mae. Bea helped her with her resume, and she was soon working from 3 to 9 five days a week. Her mom and dad were thrilled that Mae managed to find a job, even if it paid minimum wage and was supremely boring. Still, money is money and work is work.

After freshening up and grabbing a fistful of Cheerios for breakfast, she went outside. The police tape from the previous night flapped limply in the summer wind. She stared for a long while at the yellow and black stripe warning her to not cross. She thought about taking a look inside, but she could leave fingerprints and get in trouble with the cops all over again. Nevertheless, her curiosity was potent. Mr. Penderson may have been a jerk, but she couldn’t think of a reason anyone would have wanted him dead. No one alive, anyhow.

Mae made her way into town, passing by a newsstand. That day’s headline was something about the lumber industry. The news hadn’t reached everyone yet, apparently.

“Hey Borowski.”

Mae felt an arm, clad in a purple sweatshirt, wrap around her neck as her scalp was playfully rubbed by a set of knuckles.

“Ack! Selmeeers, quit it!” Mae whined, trying to bap the offending hand away.

“What, too busy to talk? You went right past my door.”

Selma Ann Forrester, better known to Mae as Selmers, was Mae’s longtime neighbor and currently her girlfriend. Mae had no idea the bear was into girls, as she had been married to a man named Dennis for a little while before he left Selma for another woman, and she never made mention of her romantic life after that. She shared a beer with Mae on her 21st birthday, and after the lightweight cat drunkenly and jokingly said she loved her and wanted to go out with her, Selmers took her up on the deal. Mae of course didn’t remember the next morning, but went along with the date anyway, and the two had a good time. Not just a good time, a great time. Five months later, they were still tight like glue.

“No, I’m just thinking.” Mae said, squirming from Selmers’ grasp only to fall right back into it with a brief hug.

“Did you hear what happened? Mr. Penderson died.”

Selmers’ easygoing smile faltered a bit. “Seriously? Oh, shit. He’s been there since I was in diapers. You okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking that? Yeah, I’m fine, I kind of hated his guts.” Mae replied, following Selmers back to her front stoop.

“Still, he’s our neighbor, asshole or not.” Selmers said, plopping onto her usual spot on the stoop and tucking her paws into the pockets of her hoody. Mae sat beside her.

“It’s weird,” Mae said. “They put up police tape last night to keep people from going inside, like a murder scene or something.”

“Could have just been to keep the press out. Or teenagers.”

“I dunno. I saw him yesterday, and he was out walking. He seemed fine, as fine as a nasty old crank can get.” Mae said, resting her chin on a paw.

“Who knows? Sometimes really old people just… stop living. It’s what happened to my Nana. She was 93 and perfectly healthy, but she died in her sleep out of nowhere two years ago.”

“Maybe.” said Mae, resting her head on Selmers’ shoulder. The bear wrapped an arm about her in reply. “You write any new poems?”

“Nah. I’ve been reading more out of that poetry book from the library, though.”

“Whatcha read?” Mae asked.

“‘Howl’ and ‘America’ by Ginsberg. Pretty great stuff. Too many dicks though.” Selmers said with a faint smile.

“You can never have too many dicks.” said Mae.

“This guy always finds a way to incorporate dick, though. Every metaphor is a dick.”

“Maybe he wrote his poems while he was naked?”

“He was gay, too.” Selmers added.

“So? Maybe he was really horny.”

“Back in the fifties. Being gay back then was like, a life-ruining accusation back then.”

“Oh. Well, good for him for not hiding his love of dick.” Mae declared, holding up a triumphant fist. “What’s not to love?”

“Being late for work.” Selmers said, raising an eyebrow.

“Shiiiit I have to woooork.” Mae whined. “Can I see you after my shift?”

“Not today. I got my interview at five and I’m babysitting.” Selmers replied. “Text me though, we’ll make plans for the weekend.”

“You’re gonna nail it b-t-dubs.”

“Get to work, dork.” Selmers chuckled, giving Mae a quick smooch on the lips before letting her head off.

Mae couldn’t quite describe the charm Selmers possessed. She was always chill and easy to talk to. Though she was closing in on 30, she never treated Mae like a kid, and thus never felt like an adult. Mae also considered her a kindred spirit, being an unemployed dropout, even though Mae was no longer unemployed and Selmers was going to get a job at the library. The interview was pretty much just a ceremony, Selmers was guaranteed the job since she was loved at the library, a frequent patron and member of the Possum Springs Poetry Society.

Mae unlocked the door to the Video Outpost “Too.” She rarely saw Angus leaving the store, since he tended to leave a little early to make himself some lunch, and Mae was usually there a minute or two before her shift started at 3. She flipped the sign on the front door to OPEN and climbed onto the stepstool behind the register, as she was too short to be seen otherwise. Mae sighed, preparing for another evening of boredom, but her ears perked up a bit when she remembered that she had charged her phone. One of the perks about working at the movie store was the Wi-Fi, since Possum Springs had terrible reception. She pulled out the phone she got for her birthday and checked her messages. Gregg had sent a photo while Bea continued their conversation from the other night. She checked Bea first.

“I’ll look and see. Doubt it though.” Mae had asked Bea if she had Eliot’s The Waste Land laying around her apartment, since Selmers really wanted to read it and the library didn’t own a copy. Mae told her girlfriend that she could probably look up a reading on YouTube or just find a pdf of it, but Selmers declined, saying that she learned better out of books. Mae replied with a simple “thanks beabea”

Gregg had sent Mae a candid picture of Angus’s butt, with the caption “#blessed.” Mae smirked and replied with “more like #secondbest, wait till i get one of my girl”. She wasn’t quite comfortable enough to ask Selmers for an ass shot yet, but the day would come.

She put her phone in her back pocket and rested her chin on her paw, before taking her phone out again and sending a message to the group chat with Bea, Gregg, Angus and Germ.

“Guys, Mr. Penderson totally died last night.”

She got an almost immediate reply from Germ. “I saw him buy milk yesterday.”

“I saw him yesterday too.” Mae typed.

“Wait, is that the nice old goat that lives next door to you?” Bea asked.

“No, that’s Mr. Twigmeyer, he’s on vacation.”

“Oh.”

“We egged his house!” Gregg exclaimed. “He was ur neighbor for like ever. Rip.”

“He seemed fine when I saw him last though, and they put up police tape.”

“I think they do that with just about every person that dies unexpectedly.” Bea said.

Mae began typing out a message “You don’t think it’s-” before shaking her head and erasing it. She instead replied with “Yeah, I bet you’re right.”

“You have a cop in your family you could probably ask if it was murder.” Germ said. Mae snorted, the bird really had no filter.

“That’s not how it works, Germ.” Bea replied.

“Why not? My family tells each other secret stuff all the time.”

“Mine doesn’t.” Bea said.

“Mine neither, at least not Aunt Mall Cop. She could turn coal into diamonds.” Mae typed out some more messages. “With her ass.” “Since she’s so tight-assed.”

“You could at least get diamonds.” Germ said after a moment.

“Give me and Angus some!” Gregg interjected.

“I’m not sure people would pay much for rectal jewelry.” Bea retorted.

“I could make a fortune! No one has to know they’re ass diamonds.” Mae exclaimed.

“What have I stumbled on?” Angus said, finally joining the conversation. “I left for some groceries and came home to this.”

“Mae’s neighbor is dead and she wants to make money off of ass diamonds.” Germ replied instantaneously. He was by far the fastest typer.

“Ass diamonds. As in, diamonds you wear on your ass?” A new text from Angus followed a moment or two later. “Wait, is your neighbor actually dead?”

“Yup. Mr. Penderson took a dive.” Mae said.

“Oh. The old racist guy? Can’t say I’m heartbroken.” Angus replied

“She meant diamonds that came from her Aunt’s ass.” Germ said.

“Gross.”

“Oh hey cap’n you remember to grab angel hair?” Gregg asked.

“Couldn’t get anything. Ham Panther was closed when I got there.”

“Closed? Why?” Bea inquired.

“Something happened there. Cops told me it was for my own safety.”

“Your safety?!?!” Gregg typed. “What the hell happened?”

“They must have bad milk.” Germ said.

“What?” Bea asked.

“Germ what actually are you talking about?’ Gregg chimed in a half-second later.

“Penderson bought milk at the Panther and died. The cops were at his house and now they’re at the Panther.”

“I don’t get it.” Gregg typed.

“Germ, Mr. Penderson was old and probably had half a dozen health problems” Bea replied. “How do you know he even bought milk from the Ham Panther anyway?”

“I saw him there last night. I went to buy Gramma some Fish Oil pills, and I was behind him in the express lane. He told me I was dressed like a shoplifter.” Germ explained.

“It’s a stretch.” Bea said. “Someone might have just broken in.”

The conversation changed to summer plans after that, but Mae kept thinking about what Germ had said. Sure, it was a longshot that the two crimes were connected, but if they were, it meant that either Mr. Penderson ran into some especially rotten milk or there was some kind of foul play going on. The latter thought made Mae’s stomach churn, as images of black cloaks and arms without owners flashed through her mind.

She thought about asking her father if he knew anything, but he probably wouldn’t. Aunt Molly was usually as short with her brother-in-law as she was with Mae, so the chances of her revealing anything were slim to none. It didn’t stop Mae from calling her dad to ask if he was alright. He was fine, and Mae wasn’t surprised to hear that he knew nothing about why the store was closed earlier that afternoon or why the police were interviewing employees one at a time. Mae told him she had heard through the grapevine about the store’s closing, and said she looked forward to seeing him tonight, not mentioning anything about milk or Mr. Penderson.

At closing time, Mae was simply happy that the weekend had arrived, dark thoughts drowned out by her excitement for band practice, hanging out with the gang and chilling in Selmers’ arms. She found herself humming a song she heard on one of the looping movie trailers at the Video Outpost “Too.” She found a stick and hit an acorn with it, which clacked against a telephone pole. She came to a stop at her house, just a few paces away from the walk up to her front door.

A tiny scrap of paper, neatly folded up, was taped to the side of Mr. Penderson’s mailbox. It didn’t look anything like a letter, and it couldn’t have been a flyer since there weren’t identical bits of paper taped to everyone else’s mailbox. She let curiosity get the better of her and gingerly peeled the paper free from the metal.

Within was what looked like a clipping from a book, containing a single paragraph that was highlighted in green.

“He saw that for the rest of his days, frail, racked, but enduring, he would live in the face of a purifying terror. A feeble cry, a last impossible protest escaped him. But the Holy Ghost, emblazoned in ice instead of fire, continued, implacably, to descend.”

Chapter 2: A Late Encounter
Mae made sure to copy the passage on the mailbox-note before she turned it into the cops. And by “turned into the cops,” she meant her mother immediately called her Aunt Molly when she showed her. Mae brought her handwritten copy to band practice the next day. When she arrived at the Party Barn, Bea was setting up her laptop cart onstage and Germ sat on one of the two chairs for audience members. Their audience doubled since Mae started dating Selmers.

“Hey.” Bea said, looking up from her laptop monitor. “They ever find out what happened to Mr. Penderson?”

“If they did, they didn’t tell me. But I found this on a note stuck to his mailbox!” Mae waved the bit of paper around. Germ peered over Mae’s shoulder as she opened it for Bea to read.

“...Is this a scripture or something?” Bea asked after skimming it over.

“Beats me, I’ve never read the Bible. Not even the sixty-fourth of it.” Mae replied. “I had to copy it onto a different page before Aunt Mall Cop took the original note.”

“Your handwriting isn’t very good.” Germ noted.

“Gee, thanks Germ.” Mae said.

“It’s okay, neither is mine. Gramma calls it chicken-scratch.”

“So this pretty much confirms it’s a killer, right?” said Mae. Bea sparked her lighter and cupped her hand around the flame, lighting one end of a cigarette she had balance in her teeth. She took a long drag on it before speaking again.

“If the cops took it as evidence,” Bea began, expelling two grey jets of smoke from her nostrils. “That could mean they think foul play was involved. Could. We can’t be too hasty.”

“Did anyone check the paper for today? There might be a story.” Mae suggested.

“Don’t you pass by one of those fifty-cent newspaper things on your way into town every day?” Bea asked.

“Yeah, but it’s kinda hard to notice.”

“It’s right by your girlfriend’s apartment.” Bea replied with a barely noticeable smirk.

“Alright, so I forgot to look today, geez.” Mae said tartly.

“I’ll go get one, I have fifty cents.” Germ said, and immediately pattered out of the Party Barn. Bea sat on the stage and took another draw from her cigarette while Mae tuned her bass.

“How’s your dad?” Mae asked after a few moments of silence.

“Still not leaving the apartment much. How’s Selma? She coming to watch today?”

“Hope so. I tried texting her last night, but I don’t think she got it.”

“She said it herself, there’s no reception in Possum Springs.” Bea tapped a few keys on her laptop, testing a beat on her electronic drums and then nodding to herself. “She really should have that poem published.”

“Her poetry’s gotten really good. Like, really good. You heard any of her new ones?” Mae asked.

“Can’t say that I have.” Bea replied. “Oh, I don’t have The Waste Land. Most of my books are leftovers from high school and dad’s only got instruction manuals.”

“No prob.” Mae said with a wave of her hand. “I’ll probably just order one online for her birthday.”

“Amazon has used books for like, two dollars.”

“Yeah… I have some of Selmers’ poems saved on my phone, you wanna hear one?” Mae asked, eagerly taking out her phone.

“Sure.”

Mae opened her notes, clearing her throat theatrically before reading.

“I am no poet, I am a scholar who does not read. I am the starving artist with no pencil or pad. I am the one with no clue who still keeps blabbing I missed the last ship out to Innisfree.”

Bea nodded. “Cool. Doesn’t hit as hard as the other one, but I think it’s more personal. What’s Innisfree?”

“Selmers told me it’s a dinky island that a famous Irish guy wrote about. William something.” Mae explained, scrolling to look for other good poems.

“I knew a guy in school named William. He collected pins.” Germ returned, carrying a newspaper under his arm.

“Germ, you’re back! Gimme gimme.” Mae took the paper from Germ and opened it up, the inner pages all falling out and scattering on the ground. “Oops. I thought they were, like… connected to each other.”

“Maybe not.” said Germ. Bea gave a half-amused snort and began picking up the loose papers with Mae. A moment or two later, Bea planted a finger on the front page article.

“I think that’s it.” She said. Mae and Germ appeared at her side in an instant.

“Poisoned Milk Takes Senior Citizen’s Life.” Mae read. “Holy shit, he WAS murdered!”

“Keep reading.” Bea said immediately.

“Zachary Penderson, age 86, died in his home late yesterday evening. Officials state that Penderson died on his living room floor, a half-finished glass of Mooboy milk on his nightstand and the television still on. A neighbor called 911 after hearing a crash within Penderson’s house, which authorities say was Mr. Penderson falling to the floor.

“Upon further investigation, the milk in the glass and in the carton was revealed to contain sodium fluoroacetate, a compound so toxic it was banned from use as a general pesticide in 1990. The Ham Panther Supermarket where Penderson purchased the milk was closed for investigation, and all cartons of Mooboy were confiscated. The manager of the local Mooboy Farm and Processing Plant, Sal Tattaglia, denies any usage of the poison.

“‘There’s just no way it could happen,’ says Tattaglia. ‘We’ve avoided purchasing any inorganic feed for our cows for over twenty-five years, and we’ve never used anything but minor weed-killers on our farm. A chemical like that could only be added deliberately, and my staff would undoubtedly notice and report if someone tampered with our product.’

“While investigation continues, the Possum Springs Police Department urges the citizens to avoid drinking any Mooboy milk until otherwise notified.”

The three friends looked at one another when they finished reading. Bea was the first to speak.

“Shit.”

“Double shit.” Mae added.

“I guess you were right, Germ.” Bea said.

“Lucky guess, I guess.” Germ replied, picking up the funny pages and sitting in his usual chair to read them.

“So wait,” Mae said, scratching her head in confusion. “How does the stalker letter tie in with all this? It’s gotta mean something, right?”

“Who got a stalker letter?”

Gregg entered the Party Barn, his guitar case slung over his back. Angus wasn’t far behind, carrying an amp and wheezing faintly. He set the amp beside the stage and sat down on it, taking a puff from his inhaler.

“You okay, Big Guy?” Mae asked.

“Fine.” Angus said after a short, clean breath.

“Stalker letter!” Gregg exclaimed, flailing about. “Show it to me!” Mae handed Gregg the letter,  the yellow fox snatching it and reading a few words before his brow wrinkled in confusion.“This is your handwriting, Mae!” Gregg said, putting a hand on his hip and smirking. “So you’re into stalking now, huh? Selmers’ll be pissed!”

“Shut your helling mouth, GREGGORY.” Mae snapped, smiling too. “It’s not the original, the cops took the real one!”

“So who’s it for then?!” Gregg demanded.

“It was on Penderson’s mailbox.” Bea said, handing the front page of the newspaper to Angus. “You might want to read this.”

Gregg skidded to his boyfriend’s side, wrestling his guitar off of his back and leaning it hastily against the stage without taking his eyes off the newsprint.

“Oh wow.” Angus said after a moment. “No wonder they closed the Ham Panther.”

“Germ was right, they do have bad milk.” Gregg uttered in a hushed voice.

“That’s what I said.” Bea replied.

“He’s like a super detective!” Gregg cried.

“Yeah, like, Ger-lock Holmes!” Mae added.

Germ himself hadn’t looked up from reading Calvin & Hobbes.

“What does the letter say?” Angus asked, setting the paper down in his lap and taking the note from Gregg.

“It’s some weird Bible mumbo-jumbo.” Mae said.

“We think, at least.” Bea chimed in.

Angus adjusted his glasses, squinting a bit at Mae’s untidy handwriting. He read a few words aloud to himself before suddenly rising to his feet.

“I’m not sure this is a Bible passage.” he said. “No. No, I know what this is.”

“You do?” inquired everybody at once.

“I think so. Where do I remember it from..?” Angus massaged his temples, bowing his head slightly as he racked his brain. All of a sudden, he shot straight up and clapped his paws together. “Flannery O’Connor!”

“Flattery-a-whatnow?” Mae asked after a moment.

“Flannery O’Connor. She was an author from the Deep South.” Angus explained. “I read a collection of her short stories not too long ago, and that’s from one of hers. ‘The Enduring Chill,’ I think it’s called.”

“Oh. Geez, I never woulda gotten that.” Mae said with a sheepish laugh.

“It’s a good story.” Angus said. “This guy comes home from college because he thinks he’s dying, and he acts real smug and self-righteous about it, blaming everybody around him. But it turns out he actually just contracted a permanent, non-lethal fever from-”

Angus seized up mid-sentence, his mouth open just a tiny bit.

“You good, Cap’n?” Gregg asked, his eyes shifting back and forth uncomfortably.

“...From drinking unpasteurized milk.” Angus finished in a hollow voice.

“So?” Bea asked, arms crossed.

“So the way Mr. Penderson died matches up with what happened in the story. They both drank tainted milk.” Angus explained. Mae held up a paw, trying to wrap her head around everything.

“Wait. Are you saying that someone poisoned Mr. Penderson’s milk, then left a page from a story where a guy drinks poison milk on his mailbox?”

“It wasn’t poison in the story, it was just untreated.” Angus replied.

“Milk right from the udder is like, half bacteria.” Gregg added. “They superheat it to burn away all the disease before they sell it.”

“How do you know all that?” asked Mae.

“My uncle wanted to keep me from drinking any of his sheep milk.” Gregg said.

“Sheep milk? Blech.” Mae said, sticking out her tongue.

“Are we going to overlook the serial killer note?” Bea said crisply.

“Serial killer might be a bit of a jump.” Angus said. “This could just be some asshole wanting to scare everybody.”

“By killing someone?” Mae asked.

“He also could have heard about what happened to Penderson and now he wants the credit. Assholes do that all the time.” Angus said, climbing onstage. “Terrorists will claim responsibility for an accidental explosion to scare more people, or religious nuts will call some guy’s heart attack an act of God so they feel more powerful.”

“That’s…” Mae began. “Really smart.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t a psycho, but we should probably wait for more info, right?” Angus said, tapping the microphone. “Check check.”

“I’m just gonna come out and say it, guys,” Mae said, double checking that Selmers hadn’t shown up but lowering her voice anyway. “I’m worried it’s The Cult.”

The four friends went quiet, Germ looking up from the paper. That night in the mines was something they never spoke of if they had to. The only other person that knew about The Cult of The Black Goat was Germ, who already had a run-in with one of their members, and they felt as though he deserved an explanation since he had bombed the well for them. Germ may have blurted things out, but for some reason, Mae and the others knew he would keep this secret under wraps.

“Nah.” Gregg said after a moment. “They were all about leaving no trace.”

“I’m with Gregg.” said Bea. “They would never leave someone’s body laying around unless it was an accident.”

“And they only went after people at night or in the outskirts of town.” Angus added.

“I know that, but what if like-”

Mae couldn’t finish her thought as the door to the Party Barn opened up, everyone immediately going back to setting up their instruments as though nothing had happened, Germ returning to his paper. A bear in a puffy violet jacket and black skirt entered, raising a paw in greeting.

“Hey guys. I’m not late, am I?” Selmers asked.

Everyone replied with various versions of “No, you’re fine!” as Mae hopped off the stage and hugged her girlfriend.

“Geez, do you ever take off that hoody? It’s like eighty-something degrees outside.” Mae asked,   brushing a bit of lint off of Selmers’ sleeve.

“It makes me feel cozy. ‘Specially my hood.” Selmers demonstrated by pulling her hood up and tugging hard on the drawstrings until only her mouth was visible. Mae let out a girlish giggle that she immediately swallowed. “So, what are you guys playing today?”

“We’re starting off with our cover of ‘Going to Pasalacqua,’ then moving on to the regular set.” Angus explained. “If that’s cool with you guys.”

“Sounds good.” Bea said.

“Coolio!” Gregg said.

“Yup.” Mae said.

“Good deal.” Selmers took her seat to the left of Germ and offered a fist bump. “Hey Germ. Whatcha reading?”

Germ tapped fists with Selmers. “Garfield.”

“I didn’t read him much, I was more into Peanuts.” Selmers replied, leaning back in her chair. “I heard Garfield could be pretty funny though.”

“Peanuts is a lot better.” Germ said. “It shows how life gets shitty for no reason.”

“Amen to that.” Selmers chuckled.

---

When practice ended about an hour and a half later, Gregg and Angus excused themselves, as they had been planning a dinner date together. Bea said she had things to take care of at home, and Germ simply walked away with a short goodbye. Mae frowned, as she was hoping to eat out with everybody, but felt a little better when she saw Selmers exit the Party Barn.

“Guess it’s just you and me tonight, Selmers.” Mae said.

“Guess so. Anything you want to do?” Selmers asked.

“Uhh… you wanna do sex?” Mae said, shrugging dopily.

“Dude, my parents are home!” The bear laughed, socking Mae in the shoulder. “And wow, that was a bit outta nowhere.”

“I know, but I’m horny! I got cat scratch fever!” Mae replied, blushing. “And I know it’s outta nowhere, but it’s also not, really. We’ve been together for like half a year.”

“True, good point. But that won’t change the fact that my parents are around.” Selmers said.

“Shit. Oh, wait! My parents aren’t home!” Mae cried, but she just as suddenly felt a rush of disappointment. “Wait, nevermind, my dad is. He got the day off from the Ham Panther.”

“Bummer.” Selmers said.

“...Man, asking you for sex was way easier than I thought.” Mae admitted, scratching her head. “I thought you’d like, need time to think about it.”

“It’s no big deal, Borowski. We’ve all got needs. Tell you what, if you remind me later tonight, I’ll send you something to tide you over.” Mae flushed all over, Selmers smirking at her.

“Nudes.” Mae whispered, as though addressing the holiest of artifacts.

“Sure. I’m not shy.”

“Can I see your butt?” Mae asked in a tiny voice.

“If you want.”

“Can I show it to Gregg?” Mae asked immediately.

“Slow down there.” Selmers said.

“Come on, pwetty pwetty pweeease? Gregg always sends me pictures of Angus’ ass and I want to show him up!”

Selmers snorted. “I don’t think I know Gregg enough to let him see my nudes. Don’t get me wrong, he seems like a cool guy, but this is something I only want you to see.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Mae sighed. “Oh, how’d your interview go?! Did you nail it?”

“Not sure. She said I start working on Monday, so that seems like a good sign.” Selmers replied, grinning proudly.

“I knew you would! You’re such a badass!” Mae hopped up and down excitedly and hugged Selmers about the neck, the bear catching her mid-bounce in a bracing hug of her own.

“I’m pretty damn excited. It’ll feel good to earn my own money.” Selmers said, keeping one arm wrapped around Mae.

“Your job will probably be so much better than mine. All I really do is sit at a desk and check out movies. My manager won’t even let me watch any movies while I sit around, the TV just plays the same ten ads over and over.”

“I doubt I’ll actually have time to read or write any poems, Mae. I’ll be sure to grab something on my lunch hour, but that’s probably all the time I’ll get.”

“You could listen to books on tape!” Mae suggested. She didn’t quite hear Selmers’ response, though, as all the talk about books reminded her of the note she found. “Hey, Selmers..? Do you know anything about… Flannery… O’Connor?”

Selmers thought a moment. “The name sort of sounds familiar. Why, who is she?”

“She wrote stories. I uh, heard about her on one of Dad’s old people shows, and you read books.” Mae kept the note a secret. She didn’t want to blurt anything out to Selmers.

“That’s a recent thing for me, Mae, and even then, it’s mostly poetry stuff.” Selmers said. “But I’m probably going to be in the library tomorrow, so I can poke around if you want.”

“Oh, no, it’s no big deal, really. I was just curious if you knew anything.” Mae said, laughing nervously.

“Oookay. This is my stop.” The two of them had arrived outside Selmers’ apartment building. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, stop by the library.”

“Will do, Smellmers. Love ya.” Mae gave her girlfriend a rather lengthy kiss on the lips. “Hey, don’t forget about the nudes.”

“Shhh! My parents might hear, stupid!” Selmers pressed a claw to her own lips, but her smile was unmistakable as she went inside.

Mae’s stomach rumbled angrily after Selmers went inside. Mae groaned a bit when she realized she hadn’t eaten anything all day. Since she slept so late on the weekends, it was either buy her own dinner or settle for leftovers at home. Her mom made chili the previous night, which wasn’t as good after it sat in the fridge all day, plus it gave her seriously bad gas. She thought a moment before heading down into the Trolley Tunnel, hoping that the dog at the newsstand would actually serve her now that she had money. She didn’t feel like waiting for food.

The delicious smell of cooking potatoes and warm pretzels greeted her as she entered the old tunnel. Mae crossed her fingers and rang the small bell for service.

“Can I have some perogies?” Mae asked. The dog cook that worked there didn’t even turn to look at her, continuing to chop onions. Mae frowned and raised her voice a bit. “Can I have some perogies, please?”

“I don’t serve thieves.” The cook said, still not bothering to make eye contact with Mae.

“Look, I’ve got money right here.” Mae held up a few dollars. It was like speaking to a brick wall. “I was a teenager when that happened, you know. Teenagers do stupid crap all the time.”

The dog finally looked up at Mae, pointing his vegetable knife at her. “Beat it, I said. Who even knows where you got that money?”

“Uh, from working?” Mae replied.

“Work, huh? I can’t think of a place around here that’d hire punks. Someone desperate, I bet.”

Mae felt cold anger prickle down her back, stuffing the money into her pocket. “Man, like, one hundred percent screw you, buddy.” She made an extremely rude gesture and marched back up the stairs, internally griping about having to sit around and wait for food.

A horrible scream froze Mae in her tracks. The noise echoed throughout the tunnel, followed by a heavy crash and some rapidly retreating footsteps. Mae stumbled back down the steps. The cook wasn’t at his post, and several crates of vegetables that had been neatly stacked up against the wall were knocked over, potatoes strewn all about the floor. The employee door into the small kitchen was ajar, and Mae took a breath before opening the door carefully.

“H-Holy shit.”

The cook lay on the ground, slumped over against an overturned crate of onions. His jaw hung agape and his one visible eye rolled backwards until the pupil disappeared into its socket, bits of onion clinging to his face. A trickle of blood leaked from a small puncture at the very top of his skull, dripping rhythmically onto a growing puddle.

Mae felt herself grow woozy as she saw another note, the text highlighted in green, resting beside the body of the cook.

“He had not expected to have a hole in his head at this event. It was the slow black music that had put it there and though most of the music had stopped outside, there was still a little of it in the hole, going deeper and moving around in his thoughts, letting the words he heard into the dark places of his brain.”

“Holy SHIT!” Mae scrambled away, up the stairs and out into the summer night, yelling for somebody to help.

Chapter 3: A Circle in the Fire
Mae stared at her reflection in the one-way mirror. She looked tired. She wondered if the person watching on the other side, if there was anyone there to begin with, ever made faces at criminals sitting in the interrogation room. She knew she would. Lots of horrible people must have sat where she was currently sitting, so why wouldn’t a cop take the opportunity to flip them off or something behind the safety of the mirror? It probably felt good.

The hallway door opened, and Mae’s Aunt Molly entered the room, followed by a goat who also wore a police badge. Molly carried a large pink box with the Donut Wolf logo emblazoned on top, promising “Fantastic Yums!”

“Evening, Mae.” Molly said, setting the box down on the table. Mae felt her stomach rumble greedily, her appetite re-emerging as soon as the scent of warm, sugary dough reached her nose. The goat officer stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed, while Molly made herself comfortable in the folding chair opposite Mae. She took a pen and pad out of her uniform, removing the pen cap with her teeth and sticking it onto the dull end, flipping to an unused page. “Those are for you, too.” Molly flicked the box open with her pen, revealing an assortment of donuts.

“Thanks.” Mae said, taking a chocolate-covered donut and scarfing it down, grabbing a glazed one as soon as she finished.

“So, you saw something disturbing tonight, didn’t you?” Molly asked.

“Yup.” Mae said, her mouth full of fried dough.

“Tell me how it happened.” Molly said, crossing her legs.

“Well… I was hungry, so I went into the Trolley Tunnel at about seven. The Pierogi Guy wouldn’t take my money, and I left…” Mae began.

“He wouldn’t take your money? Why?” Molly asked.

“He still thinks- ...thought I was a thief. I stole a few pretzels from his stand in high school and he was still sore over it.”

The officer in the corner chuckled. “That sounds like Ramsey. Man could hold a grudge.” Mae felt her guts churn a little bit. For the longest time, Mae only knew the Trolleyside News cook as either “The Pierogi Guy” or “Douche Bag.” Hearing his real name reminded her that he was a real person, probably with a family.

“Go on, Mae.” Molly said.

“Right. I, uh, I went up the stairs, and then I heard something. Like a fight and a scream. I went back down and I saw him on the floor.”

Molly wrote a few things down on her pad. “Did you see anyone enter or leave the tunnel before the commotion? After it?” she asked.

“No. I think I heard someone run away, but I didn’t see anybody.” Mae cleared her throat a bit before speaking up. “You don’t think I did it, do you?”

The other officer snorted, Molly shooting him a look before turning back to Mae.

“No, Mae, I don’t.” Molly said.

“Even with all of my psycho stuff?” Mae asked weakly.

“Your… episode doesn’t match up with anything we’ve seen from this, Mae. This was a planned, deliberate attack.” Molly explained. “Besides, if you were guilty, why would you come to the police?”

“They left a note too, right?” Mae asked.

Molly looked up from her pad, her face severe. The other cop stood up much straighter.

“Yes. How did you know?” Molly asked.

Mae hesitated. She didn’t want to tell her aunt that she shared the contents of the note with anybody, as that would just get her in more trouble, possibly even her friends.

“I saw it. I’m not stupid. I wrote down the other one before you took it and searched online. Here.” Mae took out the crumpled copied note from her pocket and handed it to Molly, her colleague coming over to examine it.

“You didn’t show this to anyone?” Molly said after a moment.

“No.” Mae lied.

“Are you sure?” Molly’s partner asked.

“Yeah!”

Molly and her partner looked at each other, the goat taking a strawberry cream donut and munching on it contemplatively.

“Mae, are you absolutely sure there was no one else near the scene? We need a second opinion. Now, you’re not in any trouble, but you ARE our only witness and we need a clear picture of what happened.”

“No.” Mae said. That was the truth. “The last person I talked to was Selmers a minute or two before I went downstairs.”

“Who’s Selmers?” The other cop asked.

“Selma Ann. My bad.” It felt impolite to call her girlfriend anything but her nickname. It was like calling her parents by their first names, you just didn’t do it.

“Selma Ann Forrester.” Molly said.

“Isn’t she the one that stole codeine from the Panther’s pharmacy?” The other cop chimed in, licking his fingers free of icing.

“She’s clean now.” Mae replied defensively. “And she’s my girlfriend.”

“Do you know where she went after you two spoke?” Molly was busily writing something down.

“Home. I saw her go inside. She’s not too far from the church steps.” Mae said. “But there’s no way she could’ve done it.”

“How’s that?” The other cop asked, wiping his mouth with a Donut Wolf napkin.

“The only other way into the tunnel is under Miller’s a ways away, and I would have seen her use the entrance under the stairs.” Mae said.

“Hm.” was Molly’s reply.

“Could she have seen anybody enter or exit the tunnel?” The other cop asked.

“Doubt it. Her house doesn’t really get a good view.”

Molly took a few more notes before closing her book. “Thanks for your help, Mae. Your father and Candy should be waiting out in the lobby.”

“...That’s it?” Mae asked.

“That’s it.” Molly replied.

“Oh. For some reason I thought you were going to like… grill me.” Mae admitted. “Like, good cop bad cop, straight-man loose cannon type deal.”

“Only good cops at this station, Mae.” Molly replied, smiling a little. “I’ll have Officer Palahniuk escort you out.”

Mae followed the other cop with the funny sounding name through the police station, munching on her third donut. It was a pretty small place, most of the building taken up by the large office area where the cops did their paperwork. They only had two interrogation rooms, and Mae had never seen any jail cells. Never coherently, anyway.

“Oh! I just thought of a person that might have seen something! Mr. Chazokov! He’s up on his roof all the time!” Mae exclaimed.

“Chazokov. I’ll remember that, thank you.” The other officer replied tersely. He stopped in front of the exit door and turned to look down at Mae. “Listen to me. Don’t spread word about the notes. Possum Springs doesn’t need another scandal.”

“Uh… okay?” Mae said.

“I mean it. Folks are still reeling from those people just up and disappearing last November, you go blabbing about a killer and you’ll be pouring salt on a great big wound. Got it?”  The officer pointed a finger at Mae.

“I got it.” Mae squeaked.

The officer slowly retracted his finger, turning and walking away. Mae blinked a few times, wondering if what the cop just did was legal or not. The exit door behind her buzzed and opened automatically, leaving her facing the wrong direction when her parents, who were fretting in the waiting area, rushed up to see her.

“Mae!” Mae’s mother spun her around and trapped the cat in a spine-snapping hug.

“Ack! Mom- fine- can’t breathe-” Mae choked out with a weak cough. Her mother released her and placed her paws on Mae’s shoulders.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that, pumpkin…Are you okay?!” Her mother said, a faint quaver in her voice.

“Mom, I’m fine. Really.” Mae surprised herself with how much she meant that statement. She wasn’t sure if it was shock, or the fact that until today, the victim was just another nameless jerk to her, but she felt perfectly calm.

“Come on, kitten, let’s get you home.” her father said, leading her out to the car.

Her parents questioned her just as much as the police on the ride home, demanding to know what she saw, how she felt, and if she was absolutely sure she was okay. Mae answered every question, the unusual calmness in her belly keeping her patience from being tested. When she arrived home, her mother heated up some chili for her, which she gratefully dug into. Those donuts did nothing for her appetite, and she ended up inhaling two servings of the stuff, wandering off to bed full of beans, beef, melted cheese and cornbread.

She turned the lights off in her room, flopping onto her bed and crawling under the covers with her laptop. After opening it, her desktop chirped that she had received new messages.

Gregg: “DUDER are you alright?!!?!”

Bea: “Everything okay, Mae?”

Mae assured both of them that she was, indeed, okay. If she had a nickel for every time somebody had asked her if she was okay the past two days alone, she could have bought a three course meal at Pastabilities and still have enough to tip the waitress.

Gregg: “First Penderson now Ramsey the Pierogi guy, I’m seriously bummed now”

Mae was startled to hear that Gregg knew the Trolleyside News guy’s name too. He must have got along with him better since she hadn’t ever seen Gregg steal pretzels. He must have filched everything he needed from the Snack Falcon.

Bea: “I’m sorry I couldn’t go with you, I had paperwork to do at home since my dad has another ‘migraine.’ Been in bed all day.”

Mae: “It’s fine, Beabea. And I really am okay, I’ve seen dead bodies before.”

Bea: “I doubt it was a good time regardless. Did you see another note?”

Mae: “Yeah. The cops told me not to tell anyone, but eff the cops. Something weird about music stuck in a hole in someone’s head.”

Bea: “You might want to ask Angus. I’ll search for it anyway.”

Mae: “You’re right, and thanks.”

Mae then messaged Gregg.

Mae: “Dude, I know I’ve got Angus’s contacts, but do you think you could ask if he knows about a story where someone gets a hole in their head they can hear music through?”

Gregg: “You mean ears?”

Mae: “No, an actual hole. It was on a note near Pierogi Guy’s body.”

Gregg: “Oh shit another stalker letter?!”

Gregg: “Yeah no problem brb”

Mae only had to wait about a minute before Gregg messaged back.

Gregg: “Angus said there’s a story called a late encounter with the enemy where something like that happens, but get this-”

Gregg: “It’s also by that flannery person!”

Mae: “So someone stabbed the guy and left another note by the same lady?”

Gregg: “Dude, this is definitely a serial killer! Holy shit holy shit!”

Bea sent another message to Mae.

Bea: “You won’t believe this. I looked up what you said, and it’s from another O’Connor story.”

Mae: “I know! Angus said the exact same thing like two seconds ago! How nuts is that?!”

Bea: “This is starting to freak me out.”

Mae: “Me too! Should we do something?”

Bea: “What’s that mean?”

Mae: “What if this is like another cult thing?”

Bea: “It’s not.”

Mae: “How do you know? Those assholes could be back!”

Bea: “No. All of them are rotting where they belong. And they tried operating in secret when they were still making sacrifices, this guy wants to call attention to himself. It doesn’t add up.”

Mae: “Maybe that’s what they want us to think!”

Bea: “You realize how cliche that sounds, right?”

Mae: “Whatever. I’m going to go check anyway.”

Bea: “All the collapsed rock could trap you inside.”

Mae: “Well then why don’t you come with me?”

Bea: “Because I know they’re all dead.”

Mae: “Aaagggh.”

Bea: “It’s been almost a year, Mae. These two killings can’t be related to all that. Just let it go.”

Mae: “It’s not easy having to-”

Mae didn’t complete her message. She was jerked out of the online world by the sound of shattering glass and the stench of gasoline. She threw the covers off and immediately had to squint due to the bright tongues of fire licking at her dresser and bed.

“What the hell?!” she yelled, scrambling backwards from the blaze that had erupted on her rug. She looked around for what could possibly have caused it, cursing aloud when she remembered she had opened her window. Mae wanted to make sure her room aired out, as the two bowls of her mom’s chili were sure to have their revenge in a few hours. Besides, the summer night was warm and breezy, and if any creep somehow managed to climb the wall up to the third floor, she slept right beside her baseball bat and could knock their block off before they even climbed over her. What she failed to realize was that someone could throw something.

Mae gasped as another projectile rocketed into the room through her open window. It was a beer bottle with a smoking, burning rag stuffed into the neck. It shattered against her wall, splashing hot gasoline that quickly caught fire onto piles of discarded clothes and old food wrappers. Another cocktail swooshed past Mae, inches from her right ear, and burst directly in front of her bedroom door.

“HEY! STOP THAT!” Mae roared out her window, coughing from the rapidly accumulating smoke that smelled of dirty underwear and potato chips. From her view on the third floor, she could see a figure standing in her backyard, silhouetted by firelight and holding another smouldering bottle in one hand. She grabbed for her bat, yowling in pain when she touched its now burning handle. The wooden bat, flickering with fire, fell from her paw and rolled suicidally into the growing inferno that used to be her rug.

Mae slammed her window shut just as the figure below threw their fourth firebomb, which shattered against the sturdier glass, the burning rag fluttering out of sight and gasoline dribbling down onto the window pane. Mae coughed again, realizing she just trapped all of the smoke inside with her. She wanted to open her window, but she couldn’t be sure if the psychopath down there was all out of ammunition. The path to her door was choked with fire, and jumping out of her window would break her leg at the very least, leaving her crippled and at the mercy of the person currently trying to kill her. She vaguely remembered that she was supposed to wrap a wet rag around her nose and mouth to keep the smoke out, but she had neither a rag or any water. Mae climbed over the foot of her bed and knelt close to the floor, mustering up enough air to scream.

“MOOOM! DAAAD! HELP MEEE!” Mae’s cry for help devolved into another coughing fit as her lungs tried substituting air with smoke. She honestly considered running barefoot through the fire, but the smoke had grown so thick that she couldn’t see the door. She might be left stumbling around for the doorknob, slowly shriveling into a black, crispy husk.

Mae climbed back up onto the bed and opened the door, gulping in fresh air before slamming it shut. Another molotov sailed through the air and cracked the window glass, small embers beginning to smolder on the sill.

Over the crackling of fire and blood roaring in her ears, Mae heard a heavy thud against her door and frantic voices. Mae coughed raggedly, falling onto her bed in a desperate attempt to gulp in some of the oxygen the fire hadn’t consumed yet. She felt her brain crust over. Another thud against her door snapped the lock and forced it open, revealing two shadows.

“Mae! Kitten, are you in there?!” yelled a voice that sounded suspiciously similar to her father’s.

“Stan, get out of the way!” a voice that sounded like her mother shouted. A figure emerged through the fire, wrapped in a blanket and wearing a wet rag over their mouth. Mae felt herself scooped up and carried through the smoke, down the stairs.

“You’re on fire!” the father-like voice cried. Mae blinked through clouded eyes up at the determined face of her mother, adamantly charging forward and casting the burning blanket over the banister of the stairs. Fresh air struck Mae like a splash of ice water, which she accidentally gulped in all at once and began coughing uncontrollably.

“Mae, breathe, hon, breathe!” her mother said, sitting her on the porch. Mae hacked and wheezed for a good thirty seconds before she was finally able to speak.

“...A guy threw… bottles into my room… full of fire… fiery bottles…” she croaked.

“What? Mae, are you sure?” her mother asked. “Stan, go check out back!”

“Now?!” her father cried, pointing to the house as though he was the only person aware it was on fire.

“Yes, now! And grab a knife!”

Her father ran back into the house, pausing to clumsily stomp out the burning blanket left on the floor before stumbling into the kitchen.

“We called the fire department, hon. You stay here and rest, okay? I’m going to try my hand at firefighting.”

With that, Mae’s mother went inside as well, grabbing a bucket from the kitchen and rushing outside to fill it with water from the spigot. Mae leaned against her porch railing, breathing raggedly. She dimly noticed the note taped to her front door. When her father came outside armed with the house’s largest vegetable knife and went around back, Mae climbed to her feet and yanked the note off the door.

“She stood taut, listening, and could just catch in the distance a few wild high shrieks of joy as if the prophets were dancing in the fiery furnace, in the circle the angel had cleared for them.”

Mae spat on the note, crumpling it up and throwing it out into her front yard.

Chapter 4: The Comforts of Home
It was no surprise that practically the entire town ended up outside the Borowski household for the second night in a week, the cacophony of sirens and galaxy of blinking lights this time supplied by a large fire engine, an ambulance and a police car. The third floor of the house glowed with red-orange fire, dirty white smoke billowing up into the night sky.

As firefighters sprayed cones of misty water into the topmost window, Mae sat in the back of the ambulance, wrapped in a blanket. The cops had already spoken to her, but a reporter for the town’s paper tracked her down and was currently wringing all the details of the attack out of her again.

“Can you describe the figure you saw?” the reporter asked, his tape recorder shoved under Mae’s chin. He was a busy-looking, fast-talking raccoon.

“Uh… shadowy. And like… dark?” Mae replied, her voice still scratchy from the smoke. “I dunno, they were too far away.”

“How many firebombs did your assailant throw?” the reporter demanded.

“Four. Maybe five? I think five.” Mae said.

“Can you describe your rescue in more detail? How did you feel, were you scared?”

“Look man, I get this is your job, but could you maybe stop?” Mae pushed his tape recorder away from her mouth.

“Just a few more questions, Ms. Borowski, please.” The raccoon implored, forcing his recorder back to its original position. “You were the recent witness to a murder, the public is frightened and desperate for knowledge!” The reporter was promptly shoved out of the way.

“Babe.” Selmers’ normally sleepy eyes were wide open, glittering with panic but unmistakably relieved. She threw her arms around Mae in a true bear hug, rivaling the bone-shattering strength of the hug she received from her mother earlier that night. Mae hugged her back with all her might, burying her face in her shoulder.

“Selmeeers…” Mae cooed, feeling hot, polluted tears welling up in her eyes. Some combination of stress and her tear ducts flushing out all the gunk convinced her body it was time to cry. Her shoulders shook.

“I gotcha, Mae, I gotcha…” Selmers replied, petting down Mae’s tangle of dyed red hair. The reporter finally took the hint that he was no longer welcome and scurried off to question someone else, nearly getting flattened by an incoming bicycle. Gregg skidded to a halt, his tires squealing against the pavement, nearly jerking Angus off of the back seat.

“Where’s Mae?!” he demanded off the reporter, who pointed him in the right direction. The yellow fox leapt off of the bike and dashed for the ambulance, Angus just barely stumbling off in time before the bike toppled over onto the street. The bear took a moment to set it up on its kickstand before briskly following his boyfriend.

“Gregg…” Mae wheezed tearfully as the fox ran towards her. “They burned my room down, Gregg..! I was inside!”

“Who did it? Where did they go?” Gregg muttered, any semblance of humor gone from his voice. “I’ll slit their goddamn throat.”

“They were in our backyard, Dad is out looking...” Mae said. Gregg pulled his switchblade out of his pocket, flicking it open and running off to help search. Angus watched his boyfriend disappear around the corner of the house before sitting beside Mae, Selmers finally releasing her and sitting on the opposite side.

“You’re letting him go..?” Mae asked Angus, sniffling and rubbing her eyes.

“I don’t think the National Guard could stop him at this point.” Angus said. “Besides, I’m secretly hoping he does slit this guy’s throat.”

“Me too.” Selmers said.

“But then he’ll go to jail…” Mae said, coughing up a mouthful of phlegm, which she was forced to swallow. “Gross…”

“This is the same guy, right?” Angus asked.

“Uh huh. He left a note on my door. I spat on it and crumpled it up.” Mae replied.

“That’s probably tampering with evidence, but in this case, I don’t blame you.” Angus said with a humorless laugh.

“Notes?” Selmers asked. Mae looked at her girlfriend, confused for a moment before she realized she never told her about the notes.

“The cops said I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but… Whoever’s been hurting people has been leaving a bunch of notes from Flannery O’Hara stories…” Mae explained.

“O’Connor.” Angus corrected gently.

“Whatever… How did you guys know my house was on fire, anyway?” Mae asked.

“I’m your neighbor, Mae. I smelled the smoke” Selmers said. “Only reason I wasn’t here immediately was ‘cause I called the fire department. Then I legged it.”

“Gregg and I got a message from Bea.” Angus said. “We were already on edge after you saw the stabbing.”

“Excuse me, what?” Selmers exclaimed, taking her hand off of Mae’s shoulder. “You saw the vendor get stabbed and you didn’t tell me?!”

Mae recoiled a bit. She had never heard Selmers yell before.

“I-I thought you knew… I was gonna message you too, but you know… house.” Mae pointed to her house.

“I had no idea you saw it! Good God, Mae!” Selmers cried.

“I’m sorry…” Mae whimpered. “I-I’m real sorry…” Selmers’ expression softened a bit, the bear sighing deeply and putting her hands in her jacket pockets.

“You get a pass because someone tried burning your house down tonight, but if you forget to tell me the next time you witness a murder, there’s gonna be two murders. Got it?” Selmers asked. Mae nodded, hugging her again and hiding her face in her shoulder. Selmers pet her hair down.

“I’d ask if you were okay, but… that’s probably a stupid question right now.” Bea emerged from the darkness with Germ behind her. “Screw it. Are you okay?”

“Beabea…” Mae said.

“Is all your stuff up there?” Germ asked, nodding to the third-floor window.

“...Uh huh.” Mae replied. “My computer, my clothes, the books grandpa gave me before he died…” She felt her voice crack. “What do I do..? A psycho knows where I live and I don’t own anything anymore...”

“You can stay with me.” Selmers said immediately. “I’ll make you a bed in my room.”

“You would?” Mae asked, smiling weakly at Selmers. “That sounds great.”

“Wait a second. Aren’t you two neighbors?” Bea asked.

“Yeah, I live a few doors down from her.” Selmers replied.

“I’m not trying to belittle you, Selma Ann, but don’t you think Mae should stay somewhere less… obvious?” Bea suggested. “I mean, the person already knows where Mae lives, so he or she might know you’re her girlfriend and come after both of you since you’re on the same street.”

Mae felt a cold shiver. “You’re really not making me feel better, Bea.”

“I’m sorry but… I don’t want either of you in any more danger.” Bea replied, trailing off at the end of her sentence. “I’d offer to let you stay at my apartment, but there’s not much room. My dad might also get upset if we suddenly have another mouth to feed.”

“Our apartment’s not exactly roomy either, but you’re welcome on the couch as long as you need.” Angus said.

“You can stay at my house.” Germ said.

Everyone looked at the small bird, who met their gazes with his usual indifferent expression.

“Is there room at your house, Germ?” Angus asked.

“Yup, a lot.” Germ said, tucking his hands into his jacket.

“I dunno, Germ,” Bea said. “Didn’t you tell me your family was sort of… on the big side?”

Germ paused a moment, counting on his fingers before nodding to himself.

“Our house is bigger.” he concluded.

A defeated looking Gregg walked across the Borowski’s lawn.

“Did you find anyone?” Angus asked.

“Nobody. Not even a footprint.” Gregg sighed, looking at Mae.. “Your dad didn’t find anyone either, dude.”

“Too bad you didn’t get stabbed in the face.” Mae croaked. Gregg looked at her, somewhat surprised, but grinned, his ears perking up.

“Too bad you didn’t get burned alive.” he replied.

“Too bad you didn’t get sideswiped by a bus on your way here.” Mae countered.

“Too bad you didn’t break your neck.” Gregg parried.

“Gregg, you know how to perk me up.” Mae held her arms out towards Gregg, who eagerly returned her hug.

“You two have the strangest way of making up.” Selmers said. “But yeah. The more I think about it, the more I agree with Bea. Mae needs to lay low for a while. But don’t most cop stations have like, a safe bedroom or something?”

“I’m not living near Aunt Mall Cop.” Mae quietly declared. “Like, ever. Especially not after I told you guys about the notes when Officer Something-Something told me not to. Besides, my parents could be in trouble too, so they can stay at the station.”

“...Officer Something-Something?” Angus echoed. Selmers hopped off of the ambulance and knelt down to Germ’s level. She was about a head taller than he was.

“Germ, are you sure Mae will be safe with you? Her life could be at stake.” she asked, her voice firm.

“I’m sure.” Germ replied.

“Promise me. Promise all of us.”

“Stick a needle in my eye.” Germ said.

“I wanna go to Germ’s house! How come you’ve never invited me over there?” Gregg asked.

“You’ve got better games.” Germ replied. “You’re closer to the bike trails, too.”

“Speaking of which, those kids over there are pretty interested in your bike, Gregg.” Bea said.

Gregg whirled about to look at the group of middle-schoolers surrounding his bicycle, one of which looked ready to climb onto it. The yellow fox whipped out his knife again and ran over to them.

“HEY! What do you think you’re doing?! Scram!” Gregg barked, brandishing his switch at the younger kids like he was conducting an orchestra. They scattered like mice, Gregg nodding to himself in affirmation of his masculinity and petting the handlebars of his bike. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, those bad guys are all gone.”

“Gregg’s weird.” said Selmers.

They laughed, but Mae, who normally would have laughed the loudest, stayed quiet.

---

Mae honestly thought about slipping away without letting her parents know so she wouldn’t have to argue about it. Thankfully, her conscience directed her otherwise and she told both of them what her plans were. Mae was lucky enough to have kept her phone in her pocket during the ordeal, leaving it her only possession that didn’t perish in the fire. She promised her mother and father a dozen times to answer their calls and be sure to call them too. It surprised Mae that both of them were alright with her heading somewhere else, or at least not actively trying to stop her.

“Remember, call as soon as you settle down at the Wartons’. If we don’t hear from you by eleven, I’m sending a SWAT team.” Mrs. Borowski said.

“Did you pack what you need, kitten? Your hygiene stuff’s still in the bathroom.” Mr. Borowski asked.

“All good to go.” Mae held up the grocery bag that she was using for a suitcase. “I’m… I’m sorry the house got burnt.”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s not your fault.” Mrs. Borowski said comfortingly. “Insurance should cover a good chunk of the damage, and the fire didn’t have any time to spread to the lower levels.”

“Plus we can squeeze some extra money out of whoever did this once the police catch them.” Mr. Borowski added.

“But… But you love this house!” Mae protested. “You guys already have so much to worry about, and…”

“Mae, I’d let the whole thing burn to the ground if it meant keeping you safe.” Mrs. Borowski said.

“Aw, Mom…” Mae hugged her mother. “I wish I was a better kid for you sometimes…”

“I wouldn’t change a thing about you, hon. Neither would your father.”

“Not one hair on your head.” Mr. Borowski said.

Mae barely managed to bite back more tears, swallowing mightily and hugging her dad too.

“Thank you… I’ll call you tonight.” Mae said, waving goodbye.

“Bye. Remember, SWAT team.” Mrs. Borowski said with a sly smile.

Mae headed across the street to where Bea and Germ stood, Bea unlocking her car and allowing Mae to climb into the passenger seat, Germ in the back. Mae gave an audible sniffle as Bea peeled off the curb onto the main road.

“I’m trusting you for directions, Germ.” Bea said, casting a quick glance at Mae. “...Hey. Listen, I’m… really sorry. I know this doesn’t help much, but I know what it’s like. To lose a place you really care about? If you ever need someone to talk to...”

“Make a right here.” Germ said. Bea turned onto Icy Creek Road, a rural street that led to the outskirts of town.

“You can borrow some of my clothes if you need to. I hope you like black.” Bea said, giving a temporary half-smile.

“Is it true that girls share underwear?” Germ asked, peering from behind Bea’s headrest.

“Yeah, sometimes.” Bea answered.

“That’s gross.” Germ said flatly. “Make a left at the flashing light.”

As Bea’s car turned onto McCurdy Drive, Mae burst into tears. This wasn’t the first time she had emotionally ruptured in Bea’s car, but it was definitely the most painful. It all came rushing to Mae at once, she had not only lost most of her possessions, her life had nearly ended and the person responsible was still out there somewhere. But what really set off the waterworks was just how nice everybody was to her. Her parents were looking out for her even though they wasted a ton of money on her. Bea was aloof at best when Mae first returned to Possum Springs, and now here she was sticking her neck out like they were back in high school. And Germ, whom she had never known very well, was offering her shelter free of charge. They were all so kind to her, a complete loser that worked a dead-end job because she wasn’t motivated enough to finish college.

Bea focused on the road, allowing Mae to let out everything built up inside her, while Germ watched the whole thing like a train accident, wide-eyed and unable to help.

“Turn left here.” Germ uttered cautiously, not wanting to interrupt Mae. The woods closed in on the road, streetlights becoming increasingly less frequent as the three of them drew further away from town. Mae’s crying gradually wore down to quiet sniffling and hiccuping.

“Germ, it’s dark as sin out here.” Bea said finally. “How do you find your way home at night? I need my brights just to see the road.”

“It’s fun biking in the dark. But once I hit a downed tree and took a header. And it’s kinda scary if a truck comes your way.” Germ replied.

“Shouldn’t you wear one of those reflective vests or something?” Bea asked.

“I forget to bring mine a lot, so I just have to ride in the gulley.” Germ said. “Turn right at the white mailbox.”

Bea turned into a gravel driveway, a few lights visible up on a low hill. Several cars were parked in front of the garage in various states of disrepair, some looking old but usable, others having rusted to nothing but brownish-red skeletons. Germ’s house was quite large, with a red roof and two stories. A tire swing hung from a leafless tree in the front yard, beyond all of the cars.

“I thought you said you lived in a tree, Germ.” Bea said, somewhat surprised by the size of Germ’s property.

“I do. This place is nice too, though.” Germ replied.

Bea parked her car, Germ hopping out of the back immediately. She took a moment to look at Mae, who hadn’t spoken or even moved much since crying.

“Mae… I wish there was something more I could do to help.” she admitted.

Mae suddenly hugged Bea tightly. The blue alligator started, but returned the hug, rubbing Mae’s back awkwardly.

“Thanks…” Mae mumbled. “I know I’m full of shit, but you make me feel like I’m somebody special…”

Bea only nodded. “Sure.”

Mae exited the car, following Germ up to his front door.

“You live in, like, a mansion, Germ.” Mae said.

“Yup.” the little bird replied, opening up the front door and allowing Mae inside.

The inside of the house was tremendous, one large room divided neatly into individual sections. A dining room with six places set up stood to the left in front of a sizeable window, while an office cluttered with boxes and filing cabinets stood to the right. A sitting room stood forward, lit by a fancy looking chandelier and cushioned with a long, cream-white couch and several cushy pastel-colored armchairs. Germ took off his sneakers and placed them into a wicker basket by the door.

“You can leave your boots here.” he said.

“Germ?” an adult male voice called from the sitting room, just out of sight.

“Yeah Pop, it’s me. Margaret Borowski’s here too.” There was the sound of fluttering paper as the person set down whatever he was reading and walked into the anteroom. He was the same dark blue color as Germ with a sizeable belly. He wore a plain black T-Shirt and a pair of neatly pressed brown slacks a little too large for him, the legs drooping past his ankles and covering his red and black socks.

“Well,” Germ’s father said, smiling a touch. “Well, well, well. Margaret Borowski, look at you.” Mae wasn’t sure if he was smiling because he recognized or because her clothes were ashen and her eyes were still puffy and red from crying. She smiled back feebly.

“Hi, Germ’s dad.”

“Barney, actually. Barney Warton.”

“Oh. Well, I like Mae instead of Margaret. If that’s okay.”

“Pop, Mae’s going to live in the basement for awhile. Her room got burned down tonight.” Germ said.

“I heard on the news. Terrible, awful, horrific.” Barney said giving a sympathetic shake of his head. “Well, you’re welcome in our house as long as you need, but there are a few things you should know-”

“Jeremy!” a voice from the next room hollered. “Who’ve you dragged into our house this time?”

“It’s Margaret Borowski, mom.” Barney replied. “She’s here because-”

“I know why, I got ears! Bring those two in here.” the voice snapped.

Barney frowned at being interrupted again, but quickly switched to a smile as he beckoned Mae into the sitting room.

In one of the cushy armchairs, an elderly bird sat ramrod straight with a novel larger than Mae’s skull in her lap. She was more of a periwinkle color compared to Germ and his father, wrapped up in a white wool blanket that was probably hand-knit.

“Gramma, this is Mae Borowski.” Germ said shortly, pointing at the cat. “Mae, this is my Gramma.”

Gramma glanced up and down Mae in half a second before clicking her tongue disapprovingly.

“You look a sight. Be sure you wash good before you touch anything. I’m not scrubbing any soot out of any upholstery.”

Mae swallowed. “It’s uh… it’s nice to meet you…” she mumbled.

“Whazzat? I got ears, but they ain’t perfect. Speak up.” Gramma ordered.

“Mom…” Barney began.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Mae said a little louder. Gramma only nodded in acknowledgment before sizing Mae up again.

“I’ve seen you before. Weren’t you the baseball bat girl?”

“Mom!” Barney exclaimed.

“Pipe down, Barney!” Gramma snapped. “I’m not putting the girl on trial, for crying out loud!”

“I’m gonna show Mae around now, Pop.” Germ said. Mae felt ready to run down the stairs with him, but a small, young voice from on high grabbed her attention.

“Is that a hobo?”

Mae looked up, not noticing the second floor balcony up above her. Peering through the white wooden rails holding up the banister was a small bird, a touch darker than Germ. She squatted and clutched the rails like prison bars, her head poking out to get a better look at Mae.

“She’s not a hobo, she doesn’t smell bad.”

Another head popped into view to the left of the first one, poking out from the rails. She was identical to the first girl in size and plumage color, the only difference being a slightly higher voice. Mae had to blink a few times to realize she was looking at twins.

“Girls, shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Barney asked sternly.

“We can’t sleep because Germ brought home a hobo again.” the higher-voiced twin said.

“You said she wasn’t a hobo.” the lower-voiced twin said.

“Mae, those are my little sisters, Rebecca and Riley.” Germ said. “Rebecca’s on the left and Riley’s on the right.”

“So is she not a hobo?.” Rebecca said.

“I guess she’s just dirty.” Riley replied.

“Have you been crying?” Rebecca chimed in.

“Are you Germ’s girlfriend?” Riley added. “Dad says Germ can’t date hobos.”

“It’s bedtime, girls.” Barney said again.

“We’re not tired.” Riley announced. “We want to know about Ms. Hobo.”

“Don’t be sad, Ms. Hobo, now you have a house!” Rebecca said.

Gramma looked up at the twins and pointed a finger at them. “You two flutter off to bed before I whoop ya quiet!”

With that, the two little birds retreated from the railing, still chattering about homeless people. Germ tugged on Mae’s hand. “I’ll show you the basement. Follow me.”

Mae hurriedly followed Germ back into the entrance room and into a door she thought was a closet. Several carpeted steps snaked downward, dimly lit by some lamps on the walls that gave off a tinny buzzing noise.

“Sorry that mom isn’t home yet. She works late on Fridays.” Germ said, hopping down every other step.

“What’s she do?” Mae asked.

Germ landed at the bottom of the stairs, pressing a button on the wall. Mae forgot all about her question when she saw the basement.

It was just as big, if not larger than the sitting room upstairs and carpeted with a plush taupe fabric that tickled Mae’s feet. In front of a large, maroon couch and glass coffee table sat a huge flat-screen television, several speakers mounted into the walls above it. The cupboard it sat on was open, revealing a Blu-Ray player, cable box, large silver CD player and a record player arranged in a neat rectangle. Further into the basement was a slate pool table and a number of cues arranged from shortest to longest on a rack, a dartboard mounted on the wall beside it. A sliding glass door opened to a balcony outside.

“Germ… This is… This is gigantic! And look at all this… this stuff!” Mae turned in a circle, taking everything in. Germ motioned her to a small hallway in the center of the room, lined with four doors. “Geez, there’s more? How big is this place?!”

Germ pointed to each door in the hallway. “On the right is the bathroom and bedroom, on the left is the game room and the playroom.”

“What’s the difference between the game room and the playroom?” Mae asked, stunned that there was even a need to tell the difference.

“Game room is where I play video games, playroom is the twins’ toys and art stuff. You can use both if you want, but be sure to change the A/V cables back to the way I had them before.” Germ then led her over to the bedroom door and opened it for her.

An elegant, queen-sized bed was arranged against the left wall, a bookshelf filled with Blu-Ray cases and large novels overlooking it. A walk-in closet stood on the opposite wall, along with a set of double doors.

“This is your room. There’s a bed in the exercise room too if you want to sleep there instead, but Mom comes in there to exercise on the weekends so she might wake you up. It’s behind the doors.” Germ explained. “There’s already soap and stuff in the shower, and I’ll let you borrow some pajamas. I don’t have any girl’s underwear though.”

Germ began walking away, Mae snapping out of her shock long enough to grab his shoulder.

“Hey, wait a minute, Germ! This place is like a castle! How do you even afford all this?” Mae demanded.

“Mom and Dad make a lotta money. You can use anything, only me and the twins use the basement much anyway.” Germ said. “Dad sometimes likes to play pool and Mom exercises, but that’s it. I gotta go now.”

With that, Germ left, heading back up the stairs and leaving Mae flabbergasted. She washed up in the shower, that was bigger than her old closet back home, scared to leave even the smallest amount of ash in or around the polished white tile. She left to find some clothes laying on the bed, Germ must have entered unnoticed. They were a bit small on her, raising her arms left her with her belly hanging out, but they didn’t reek of smoke or gasoline, so they were still an improvement. Mae sat back on the bed, double the size of her old one, and checked her messages. She had two from Selmers, a message and a photo attached.

“Hey dork,” the message read. “Thinking about you, thought I’d send something to help you feel better. Lemme know if you have requests.”

Mae opened the image and immediately felt her cheeks redden. She stared a while, and had to shake herself out of her trance before making sure to call her parents. 10:59, no SWAT team needed.

Chapter 5: A View of the Woods
“Alright, now reach, reach, reach, reach…”

Mae blinked awake to the sound of an unfamiliar voice, urging her to reach. She didn’t know what she needed to reach for, but the familiar taupe of the carpet reminded her that she was in the Wartons’ basement. There were no windows in her room, glassy white sunlight drifted under the double doors across from her bed. She patted the bedclothes down for her phone, retrieving it from the pocket of her (no, they were Germ’s) pajama bottoms. The time was 9:34 in the morning. The last time Mae got up that early was for college.

“Now what you want to do next is reach up as high as you can go…” the voice from the other room said. Mae dimly remembered Germ telling her that his older sister exercised on the weekends. Why anyone would spend precious free time sweating and grunting was a complete mystery to her. Then again, that mindset could also explain her own chubby figure.

Mae rolled over and closed her eyes, but it seemed her body had already decided that it was time to start the day, as the black, muffled haze of sleep refused to come back to her. She did go to bed much earlier than usual, thanks to exhaustion and Selmers’ “company,” so it made a little sense that her body had already got the rest it needed. Didn’t make it any less annoying. Mae rolled out of bed and stretched, Germ’s small t-shirt hiking up her torso as she raised her arms. She couldn’t believe she knew someone punier than her.

The cat left her room and went into the bathroom, an unpleasant spark of reminder fizzing in her brain when she saw what little she brought with her. This was all she had left in the world, her phone and some toiletries. She thanked her lucky stars that her manager paid her electronically, so she didn’t lose all of her savings in the fire, but the money she had available was chump change in proportion to all of the things she needed to replace. She swallowed, pushing the growing hollow feeling back into her stomach for now, and began brushing her teeth.

After freshening up and changing into the next set of Germ’s clothes, Mae went out into the sitting room. Or rather, the basement’s sitting room. It still baffled Mae how big Germ’s house was. She went to sit on the couch, looking at the seven or eight remotes sitting in a small wicker basket on the nightstand. One of those might have turned on the chalkboard-sized television, but she wasn’t in the mood to watch anything, her eyelids heavy despite her body not being tired.

“Oh, good morning.”

Mae jumped slightly at the unfamiliar, lilting voice. A door on the other side of the room, past the pool table, stood open, revealing an older bird standing on one leg, her arms raised high in the air. Apparently the exercise room had two entrances.

“I got in after midnight.” The bird said, turning off the speakers that played the exercise mantra Mae heard earlier, stepping out into the sitting room. “I’m Eve Warton, Jeremy’s older sister.”

Eve had blue-green plumage and stood much taller than Germ. She was quite pretty, but Mae could tell that she had some work done. There was no way her bosom was that perfect naturally. She wore a pink tank top and university sweatpants.

“Uh, h-hi, it’s nice to meet you..?” Mae said, keeping her gaze laser-focused on Eve’s eyes for fear of drifting elsewhere. She wasn’t about creeping on other people’s siblings, but her oversized boobs were admittedly quite distracting.

“Daddy told me about what happened. Arson in Possum Springs,” Eve said, putting her hands on her hips with a fluttery sigh. “Whatever happened to loving one’s neighbor?”

“I uh… I don’t- I dunno.” Mae stammered.

“Well, we’re here to help you recover. Is the rest of your family okay?” Eve asked, tilting her head like a curious dog.

“They’re alright. I mean, not happy, but they’re glad I didn’t die.” Mae said with a nervous laugh. Eve joined in with her own rather girlish giggle.

“I’m glad you’re alive too. Jeremy is always so quiet about his friends. Did you know you’re the first person he’s ever brought over to our house?”

“Really?” Mae wasn’t too surprised. Gregg had never been over here, and he was definitely the closest person to Germ.

“Really. For someone that spends so little time at home, he’s so… aloof.” Eve checked her phone and gave a dainty gasp, pressing her hand to her cheek. “Oh, dear, would you look at the time? I better get back to it. Ta-ta!” Eve patted Mae on the head and returned to the exercise room, humming and swaying her hips with a bounce in her step. Mae immediately texted Gregg.

“Dude! Germ’s older sister is weird. She’s like Snow White or something.” she typed out. Gregg responded shortly after.

“Well I mean, this is Germ we’re talking about. His whole family is probably a bit loopy.”

“His house is also effing huge! I’m staying in his basement and it’s… hold on I’ll send a pic!”

Mae snapped a picture of the sitting room, captioning it “This is just the basement!”

“WOW. That’s better than our apartment! Ask him when I can come!”

“I don’t think I’ve even explored all of it, I’m waiting to find the secret passages and swimming pool.” Mae typed.

“Have you asked how his folks can afford all this?” Gregg inquired.

“He just said it wasn’t a big deal, but I’m gonna ask him today. I’m kinda afraid to go upstairs.” Mae replied.

“Why?”

“His Grandma wigs me out. She might, like, ask me if I’m a communist or something.”

Some rapid footsteps echoed faintly in the stairwell, Germ appearing on the landing in a long-sleeved green skating shirt and black jeans. A tuft of dark blue plumage puffed out on the spot where he usually wore his cap.

“Hey Mae. Want some Pop-Tarts?” he asked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hatless, Germ.” Mae said.

“We have s’more flavored ones and apple cinnamon ones.” Germ replied.

“Apple cinnamon, please.”

“Okay. Come up and you can put them in the toaster.” Germ said, heading back up the stairs.

“Uh, I don’t toast mine,” Mae said, following Germ out of the basement. “I just eat ‘em right out of the silver thing.”

Germ spun about at the top of the stairs, the light from the doorway behind him creating an almost angelic effect. “You eat raw Pop-Tarts?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah?” Mae replied. “They’re good.”

“It’s okay to be wrong.”

Gramma was in the same recliner as the last time Mae saw her, engrossed in the same gigantic novel. Germ’s little sisters, seated at the kitchen counter, looked up from the magazine they were reading simultaneously, waving at Mae.

“Hi Miss Hobo!” one of them said.

“We’re reading about guns.” the other chimed in, holding up the magazine, which had a large advertisement for a pistol.

“Nice.” Mae replied, smiling a bit. Germ went over to the pantry and handed Mae a package of Pop-Tarts, which she began to unwrap.

“Don’t you get crumbs on the rug,” Gramma snapped, nearly making Mae drop the pastries. “Didn’t your mama teach you to open food over the sink?”

“It’s okay, Gramma. Dad eats stuff over here all the time.” one of the twins said.

“Okay, my fanny. That there rug is an antique, straight from Persia! Your father doesn’t respect anything in this goldarn house.” Gramma replied.

“Persia doesn’t exist anymore, Gramma,” the other twin said. “Now they call it Iran. My teacher said.”

“Watch your sass, Riley,” Gramma warned, picking up a nearby drink coaster. “From where I’m sitting, I could hit you with this.”

“I’m Rebecca.” the twin said. “She’s Riley.”

“What if those are antique too?” the other twin, apparently Riley, asked.

“These? Pah! Your grandfather bought these at a flea market. I doubt they’re even worth a dime each.”

Mae had quietly retreated to the sink to eat her Pop-Tarts, Germ taking the opportunity to pull on his sneakers.

“Miss Hobo, why were you crying last night?” Rebecca asked. Mae chewed her food for a while, trying to think of how to respond without frightening the twins. Then again, this was Germ’s family, so it wasn’t too much of a stretch to believe they knew of worse things than a house fire. They were reading a gun magazine, after all.

“I was in a fire, and lots of things that are important to me got destroyed.” Mae said.

The girls then bombarded Mae with questions, somehow managing not to talk over each other:

“How did it happen?”

“How hot was it?”

“Where do you live?”

“Did you get any cool scars?”

Gramma dropped her book into her lap, glaring at the twins. “Good lord, you two! Where’s your sense of tact? You got no business askin’ that poor girl all she’s been through.”

“It’s fine,” Mae said, trying not to mention how Gramma had interrogated her last night. “Not like I’m going to forget anyway. Also, it’s Mae, and I’m not a hobo.”

“But I thought you were homeless, your house got burned down!” Rebecca declared, throwing her arms in the air.

“It didn’t burn all the way down, it was really just my room.” Mae explained.

“Were you smoking in bed?” Riley asked. “Gramma said people that smoke in bed are the reason fires start.”

“I don’t smoke. My friend Bea let me try a cigarette once and I nearly hurled.” Mae replied.

“We know Bea!” the twins said.

“You do?” Mae asked.

“Sure! Germ works for her sometimes,” Riley said. “I think she’s cool.”

“I saw her fixing the big hummy thing on the playground last year.” Rebecca added.

“Duuude, I know exactly what you’re talking about! She fixed that monster?” Mae realized Rebecca was talking about the huge air conditioner attached to the elementary school. It was near the playground by the curvy slide, and made a tremendous rumbling sound whenever it activated, frightening anybody that happened to be nearby.

“That girl…” Gramma muttered.

Mae felt a twinge of anger. She could take insults thrown her way, but no one got away with bad-mouthing her friends except her.

“What’s wrong with her?” Mae asked, with a tone so pleasant it could only be angry.

Gramma met Mae’s fake smile with a neutral expression. The two stared at each other for a while before Gramma looked back at her book. “Well, that girl works harder than anyone in this town. I ain’t seen anyone her age slave away like she does. Her daddy must be real proud.”

Mae held her tongue this time. She had a few choice words about Mr. Santello that were better left unsaid, especially around little kids.

“Ready to go, Mae?” Germ reappeared at the base of the stairs, his usual nylon jacket zipped up and black cap perched at the top of his head.

“Sure. But where are we going?” Mae asked.

“Gregg’s. He and Angus wanted to see you, and I want to play Dark Souls III.” Germ explained.

“Kay.” Mae shoved the rest of her Pop-Tart in her mouth, speaking through it. “I gomfa get my boofs.” She pointed to her boots when Germ gave her a confused blink.

“Heaven’s sake, chew your food, girl.” Gramma chided. “And Jeremy, don’t you wander around after dark. Promise your Gramma you’ll be home by sundown.”

“Stick a needle in my eye.” Germ replied, giving his grandmother a brief hug goodbye. “Follow me, Mae.” The little bird opened the door to the balcony outside.

“Bye Miss Hobo!” the twins said, waving to her.

“Bye Germ’s Sisters.” Mae replied with her own wave and smirk. She went out on the balcony, Germ shutting the door behind them. The balcony provided a view of Germ’s backyard, a steady downward slope of long, tangled grass leading into a thicket of pine trees. Mae’s brow wrinkled with confusion when she realized that there was no staircase or any other means to get down from the balcony.

“Germ, what are we doi-” Mae’s question dissolved into a gasp of horror. In the brief time they had been out there, Germ had already climbed onto the balcony railing, and Mae witnessed him jump out of sight, at least a two story drop to the earth below. Mae dashed to the balcony and looked straight down. The bird landed shoulder-first on a large, black disc that bounced him back up with the sound of creaking springs. He made a swift mid-air turn and landed unscathed on his rear end.

“Come on, it’s fun!” Germ hollered up from the trampoline, a faint smile ghosting across his beak. Mae caught her breath and glared at her friend.

“You scared the shit out of me!” she cried. “You know there’s such thing as a door, right?”

“My bike’s down here.” Germ replied, scooting off the trampoline. He then looked up at Mae, tucking his hands into his pockets. Mae took a short breath before climbing onto the railing and looking down at the trampoline. She should have felt safer than when she jumped into the riverbed with Germ in November, since this was a guaranteed soft landing, but this was a longer drop. And if she somehow missed, she’d be searching for all of her shattered teeth in the grass. From where she stood, the trampoline looked quite small.

“Do you trust me?”

Germ asked her this question just before he leapt off of the bridge last autumn. She had trusted him then, and she couldn’t even see if he was still alive. Now here he was, looking up at her without a glimmer of worry. He had let Mae into his house and given her his clothes. Yeah, now that she thought about it, she did trust Germ. A lot.

With a shriek, she flung herself off of the balcony, cool morning air whistling past her ears and ruffling through her clothing. She tilted backwards in mid-air and landed on her butt, the springs of the trampoline yelping in surprise at Mae’s larger frame. The cat was launched a good six feet upward, flailing her arms for balance in a way that would have made Gregg proud. She ended up landing on her back, bouncing two more times before coming to a stop.

“Heh… Hehahahaha!” Mae burst out laughing as soon as the shock wore off, kicking her feet in the air. Germ laughed with her, something Mae hadn’t seen before. He had a high, flutey laugh.

“You good?” Germ asked after a moment.

“I good. That was great!” Mae replied. “Is that how you practiced jumping off the bridge?”

“No, I did that before we even got the trampoline. Come on, I wanna show you my bike.”

Germ led Mae over to the small alcove beneath their porch, where a silver bicycle was tethered to one of the wooden posts with a fancy-looking combination lock.

“Shiny. Don’t most people leave theirs in like, a garage? Not to stomp on your family traditions or anything.”

“Not enough room in my garage.” Germ said, entering the combination for the lock with one thumb.

“Dad and Sean need the space for car stuff.”

“Sean?” Mae asked.

“My oldest brother. He’s on the road crew in Saltztown.” Germ said.

“...Germ, how many people live at this house?” Mae asked.

“Me, Mom, Pop, Gramma, Eve, Sean, Perch, Rebecca, and Riley. Nine people.”

“What the actual hell? I’m not sleeping in someone’s bed, am I?” Mae asked.

“Nah. We save the basement for guests only.” Germ unlatched his bicycle and hopped aboard. “You can take Eve’s bike.”

Germ pointed to another bicycle tethered to a wooden post. Before Mae had the chance to ask if it was okay to borrow Eve’s things, he was already pedaling up the hill into the front yard. Mae grabbed the handlebars and hoisted herself onto the taller bike, having to duck to avoid whacking her head on the balcony above her. After some fidgeting with the seat, she figured out how to get it low enough to actually reach the pedals, and began following Germ.

It had been forever since she went bike riding, but it felt just as good as she remembered. Possum Springs was a flat town, meaning one could glide around just about anywhere on a bicycle without having to slog up too many inclines. The only hill Mae could remember was the one on Maple Street right by her house. And even then, that hill was cake compared to the payoff of rocketing down it at top speed. She and Gregg used to race to the top and then race all the way back down almost half a dozen times in a row. Sure, they got honked at by passing cars and Gregg once crashed into a telephone pole, but that didn’t stop them. What did finally stop Mae was when she skidded into the curb and was launched into Mr. Twigmeyer’s gardenia bush. She was unscathed, but she popped the front tire of her bike, and her parents had no idea how to replace it, so she stopped riding.

Germ was riding in lazy circles at the bottom of his driveway, coming to a stop as Mae coasted up beside him.

“Try not to ditch me, okay?” Mae said.

“Yup. Follow me.” Germ said, kicking off the driveway and pedaling in front of Mae. He handled his bicycle with the grace of a dancer, every movement looking fluid and deliberate. Mae kept up a leisurely speed behind him, enjoying Germ’s little performance.

“So I ran into your sister this morning,” Mae called. “She seems pretty chill.”

Germ performed a seamless U-Turn, looping behind Mae and riding up alongside her. “Eve thinks about sex a lot.”

“Dude, me too.” Mae replied.

“Like, all the time. She used to get in trouble for it at school.” Germ said, gliding around a pothole.

“How do you get in trouble for thinking about sex?” Mae asked.

“She’d skip class to be with boys, and she got busted for having something gross in her backpack,” Germ said. “She got suspended for a week. Guys at school used to tease me about it.”

“Oh. Geez, sorry.”

“It’s okay. She still talks to a doctor every month, but she’s better now.” Germ made a sudden right turn. “This way.”

Mae took the lead down a clean dirt path into the woods. “It’s pretty out here. I didn’t know they made a bike trail.” she said, looking up at the flashes of white sunlight through the black forest canopy.

“Perch and I cleared it a few summers ago. I got really bad poison ivy on my eyelid. Have you ever thought about kissing friends?”

“Have I ev- WHOA!” Mae ducked a low-hanging branch just in time, twisting the handlebars of her bike with a loud screech and toppling to the earth. The front tire of Eve’s bicycle twirled in the air as Mae dusted herself off.

“I forgot that branch was still there.” Germ said, riding up beside Mae.

“I’ll take getting dirty over getting clotheslined.” Mae said, picking up Eve’s bicycle and checking for any damage.

“Looks good to me,” Germ said, taking what couldn’t have been more than glance at the bicycle. “I can lead if you want.”

“Wait wait, Germ, wait,” Mae demanded, waving her paws about. “What did you ask me before?”

Germ had to think a moment. “Oh. Yeah. Have you ever thought about kissing friends?”

“Sure. But why?” Mae asked.

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Germ kicked off the forest floor and began pedaling, Mae stammering before giving chase. He was quiet for a moment or two before speaking up. “I’ve never been kissed by anyone. Like, really kissed. And sometimes I think about what it would be like if I kissed Gregg or Angus.”

“Dude, that’s like, the normalest thing on the planet. I’ve thought about it too.”

“What do you think it would be like?” Germ asked.

“Nice, I guess. Angus would probably feel all fuzzy, Gregg’s got shaggier hair… You could always ask Gregg! He’s like, the chillest.”

“Nah. I don’t want them to think I’m gay.” Germ said.

“So what if you are? Bea’s the only one in our crew that’s straight, and even then I bet she’s open to experimentation.”

“Why?” Germ asked.

“Tell ya later. What’s so bad about thinking you’re gay?”

“I don’t know if I’m gay.” Germ replied. “And if people think I am, then they’ll get upset if I turn out not to be.”

“What?! That makes none of the sense!” Mae cried.

“People always yell at each other online if that happens.” Germ said.

“Yeah, online. A lot of people hide online because they can say whatever shitty things they want without anyone they know in real life finding out how rotten they are.” Mae pedaled harder and rode up alongside Germ. “Dude, none of us would care if you turned out to be gay or bi or whatever, or if you changed your mind. It’s all a part of getting old.”

“So would you kiss me?” Germ asked.

Mae blinked, looking at Germ. She was met by his usual neutral expression, impossible to read but asserting that this person meant whatever crazy thing they just said.

“Uh… ...nooo?” Mae said, glancing from side to side. “I mean, I can’t. I got Selmers.”

“Okay. Sorry.” Germ said, looking back at the trail.

“No, wait a second!” Mae exclaimed. “Where did that come from, Germ? You know about me and Selmers.”

“I know. But I don’t know any other girls. And I didn’t mean ‘kiss’ kiss. I meant just a kiss between friends.” Germ said.

“A kiss between friends.” Mae repeated, as though she were a patient repeating the bizarrely-named disease a doctor said she contracted.

“Just once. No tongue or lip biting or anything.” Germ explained.

“Germ…” Mae squeezed the brakes on her bike, grinding to a stop on the soft dirt. Germ stopped as well, looking back at her. “Look, duder… You’re a great guy for letting me stay with you and stuff. And I’ll do whatever you need or talk about anything with you, shit, I’ll start paying rent. But I can’t just kiss you. I’d be kissing someone behind my girlfriend’s back, which is super scummy even if I didn’t mean it. It might be even worse that way. You’re one of the most badass people I know, but if I kiss you, I could lose Selmers, and… I’ve already lost a lot.”

Germ dug into the dirt with the toe of one of his shoes. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, dude,” Mae said, not making eye contact with the bird. “You can talk to me whenever you need.”

The two of them rode on, keeping silent for the rest of the trip.

Chapter 6: The Lame Shall Enter First
Mae, Gregg, and Angus were sprawled out on the couch, watching Germ play video games. He was in the middle of battling some horrific black slime creature. All of a sudden, Gregg spoke up.

“So, who do you think did it?” Gregg said.

“Did what?” Mae asked.

“The murders!” Gregg said. “Who do you think did it?”

“Uh… I dunno. It could be anyone.” Mae said.

“What if it’s someone we know..?” Gregg asked in an exaggerated ghoulish voice,

“That would suck.” Angus said.

“Total suckitude. But we know it’s not any of us.” Mae said, scratching an itch on her nose.

“We do?” Gregg asked.

“Yeah we do! Don’t we?” Mae said.

“It’s not Gregg or me, since we’re witnesses to each other for the fire,” Angus replied. “We were both here. I was doing bills and Gregg was messaging you.”

“What if you guys planned the whole thing so it looked like you were both at home?” Mae said.

“Yeah, well, what if you set the fire yourself to cover up the fact that you killed the Pierogi Guy and Mr. Penderson?” Gregg rebutted.

“That’s true,” Mae said, tapping her chin. “But that’d mean I made the firebombs in my room, so I’d have to sneak a jerry can, empty beer bottles and rags up the stairs past mom and dad. They would’ve seen me.”

“Maybe Bea used some of the gas in her car to make those firebombs.” Germ chimed in, without looking away from the TV screen.

“Mmm… I dunno, she messaged me from her computer right before it happened. She wouldn’t have gotten any signal in my backyard, even if she was on her phone.” Mae said.

“What about you, Germ? What’s your alibi?” Angus asked.

“I was with the Crusties,” Germ said. “After band practice I bought them all sodas.”

“Huh. I guess we’ve all got pretty solid excuses.” said Gregg.

“You almost sound disappointed.” Angus replied with a faint smile. Gregg returned it before his ears perked up.

“What about Selmers?” Gregg asked.

“Nah. I would have seen her come down into the trolley tunnel, plus the killer uses bits from Flannery O’Malley stories, not poetry.” Mae said.

“O’Connor.” Angus corrected.

“Same thing. But you wanna know what really screws with me?”

“What’s that?” Angus asked.

“I can’t think of any, like, reason this would happen.” Mae said.

“You mean a motive?” Germ asked, eyes still glued to the television.

“Yeah, that. What do Penderson, The Pierogi Guy, and me have in common?” Mae asked.

“He might be picking people at random.” Gregg replied.

“Or she,” Mae said. “It could be a girl too.”

“I honestly don’t care about a motive,” Angus said. “What’s important is that all of us stay safe. We probably shouldn’t go out by ourselves, and I think we should make an agreement to be home, or at least behind a locked door by sundown.”

“I promised Gramma already.” Germ said.

“What about work? I don’t knock off until nine.” said Mae.

“I’ll talk to Denise about the schedule.” Angus replied. In all the time Mae had worked at the Video Outpost “Too,” she never met Denise, the store’s elusive manager, even once. She had been hired with no interview, just a welcome email and a schedule.

“Doesn’t Bea sometimes work late?” Gregg asked.

“Yeah, she does. But she’s at least got people that work with her.” Mae said.

“I thought they all quit.” Gregg sat forward, looking at Mae inquisitively.

“Nah, Danny’s still there, and there’s some high-school grad named Lacy working for the summer. Brooks has been gone since March.” Mae said.

“Oh yeah...” Gregg hissed.

“I still can’t believe her dad let that guy work around Bea.” Angus sighed.

The group fell silent after that, the conversation fizzling out after going down that depressing route. Germ’s character defeated a boss with hardly a scratch, the horrific creature giving an elaborate death wail before collapsing and dissolving into nothingness.

“You still got that Flannery book, Angus?” Mae asked.

“No. It was the library’s copy. Did you want to read it?”

“Well, it might be handy. I mean, we could look for things to, like, avoid, so we don’t get murderized.” Mae suggested.

“Holy shit. That’s a really good idea! Why didn’t the cops think of that?” Gregg demanded.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they checked it out for themselves. But we could see if it’s still there.” Angus said.

“Bike trip!” Mae exclaimed.

“Bike trip!” Gregg echoed, giving Angus an eager look. The bear stared back for a moment or two before shrugging.

“Sure. I could use some fresh air.”

“WOO!” Gregg leapt to his feet and went to find his keys. Angus stretched his arms, sighing a long grunt of effort before rising from the couch to follow the yellow fox.

“You wanna come, Germ?” Mae asked as she laced up her boots.

“Nah.” the little bird replied.

Mae felt a twinge of guilt, remembering how she rejected Germ’s advances on the ride through the woods. She knew she was in the right, but she grew queasy thinking about how much Germ did for her and wondered if there was any way she could have turned him down easier.

“Hey, dude… I, uh-” Mae sealed her lips when Gregg and Angus returned.

“You wanna stop by the Ol’ Pickaxe on the way, see if Bea wants to come?” Gregg asked as he pulled on his jacket.

“I don’t think she works on Sundays, so we’d have to swing by her apartment. But sure.” Mae said, putting on a smile.

“Germ, you with us, duder?” Gregg asked, tapping Germ on the shoulder.

“Nah.” Germ said again.

“Oookay. If you’re hungry, we’ve got chips and stuff!” Gregg led them out of the apartment and down to the bike rack, eyeing the bicycle Mae borrowed as he unlocked his own.

“I didn’t know you had a bike, Mae.” Angus said.

“It’s not mine, it’s Germ’s older sisters’s-es.” Mae replied, stumbling a bit over the apostrophe.

“Oh yeah, Snow White! I woulda thought it’d be pink.” Gregg said, pulling on his riding goggles.

“Germ’s sister is named Snow White?” Angus asked as he climbed on the back of the bike, wrapping his arms around Gregg’s torso.

“No, it’s… I’ll tell you when we get to the library.”

The three of them sped off down the street. Mae noticed how carefully Gregg rode when Angus was his passenger. He usually went out of his way to show off or ride close to obstacles, being especially fond of riding through puddles to make water wings. He said he earned extra points if he splashed a pedestrian. But with Angus, while still riding as quickly as ever, he took the safest routes and actually stopped at stop signs. Mae took the opportunity to blow past him when he stopped at the intersection.

“Hey, see you losers at-”

Mae was interrupted by the sound of squealing brakes and one long, frantic blast of a horn. She had rode directly in front of a passing station wagon, and, unable to get out of the way in time, felt it smash into her side. She flipped head-over-heels onto the front of the car, her boots resting on the windshield. Eve’s bicycle teetered over and landed in the middle of the street.

“Mae, what the hell?!” Bea climbed out of the driver’s seat and ran to the front of the car, Mae laying wide-eyed and open-mouthed on the hood. “Are you okay?! Can you hear me?”

Mae looked at Bea before smiling impishly. “You caaare about me, Beatwice…” she giggled, the shock steadily wearing off. Bea’s expression of panic wrinkled into a scowl.

“Ugh, get off my car!” she spat, shoving Mae’s legs away from her windshield, the cat sliding off of the hood and onto the pavement with a faint “Owie.” After making sure Mae was alright, Gregg had to clutch the stop sign to keep from collapsing with laughter.

Both Mae and the bicycle were relatively unharmed, Mae escaping with only a large bruise on her hip. Angus managed to explain the situation to Bea, and invited her along to the library. The alligator, relieved that her car and Mae were alright, agreed to meet them there after she bought a carton of cigarettes.

---

“So, where are we supposed to start?”

The third floor of the library felt more like a crypt than anything else. The silence was only ever broken by their own voices, and the dim overhead lights revealed little but the hundreds of dust motes floating throughout the room.Gregg pulled a random book off of a shelf and read the cover aloud.

“Selected Works of Samuel Beckett. Am I close?”

“Not really. He wrote plays.” Angus replied. Gregg shrugged and replaced the book. Mae couldn’t remember the last time she had seen the fox read a book for fun. To be fair, she almost never read recreationally either, only reading Selmers’ poetry and the other poets she recommended to Mae. Those were usually nice to read, when she could understand them.

“So where are we supposed to be looking?” Mae asked in a hushed voice.

“Books labelled ‘810’ are American Literature.” Angus murmured.

“810, 810, 810…” Gregg chanted to himself as he ran a hand along a row of weighty-looking books. He paused after a moment to frown at the smear of dust that gathered on his paw, wiping it off on the seat of his pants. “Gross.”

“Ooh! Ooh, over here!” Mae beckoned the two of them over to the shelf across the aisle. “I think that’s it!”

Mae pointed to the top most row of books, all labelled “810”, where a thick black volume rested, the spine reading “O’Connor” in an elegant white font.

“That’s the one.” Angus, already the tallest one there, needed to stand on his toes to reach the book. He brought it down to everyone’s eye level.

On the cover, there was a bird with horn-rimmed glasses and an old-fashioned haircut, smiling pleasantly away from the viewer with her chin rested on her knuckles. Beside it in the elegant and loopy font were the words The Complete Works of Flannery O’Connor, with a listing of all of her titles beneath it.

“That’s her? She looks kinda like Pastor K,” Mae said. “Just more… fifties.”

“She looks kinda sweet.” Gregg said.

“So, what are we going to do? Just read the whole thing?” Mae asked.

“No, I already did that. I was thinking I could look through the stories again and see how the significant deaths happen.” Angus said, opening the book up to its table of contents.

“Geez, that’s really frigging grim when you say it out loud.” Mae admitted.

“Whatever keeps us from ending up like Penderson.” Angus said.

“You need help with your research, Cap’n?” Gregg asked.

“Uh…” Angus paused, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish laugh. “I guess this is research, isn’t it?”

“No worries, Big Guy. We’re here to help! Like, uh, ants!” Mae said.

“Ants?” Gregg echoed, tilting his head.

“You know, like, how ants help each other? Right?” Mae looked between Gregg and Angus before huffing. “Forget it.” The three of them went over to the reading tables, lit by one of the dusty overhead lights.

“Well, I usually get a diet soda when I read. And I guess it might go faster if I can talk out loud and someone writes down what I say… It feels weird giving people orders.” Angus said, seating himself in one of the creaky wooden chairs.

“Diet Fiascola okay?” Mae asked.

“Yeah, thanks. There’s a machine by the first-floor bathrooms.” Angus slid a dollar and two quarters across the table.

“A buck fifty for one soda?!” Mae exclaimed, earning her a shush from Angus. “Sorry. But that’s too much money.”

“It is, but it’s closest. You got anything to write with, Bug?” Angus asked Gregg. Gregg furrowed his brow and patted his pockets, his eyes lighting up as he pulled out a blue ballpoint pen.

“Mrs. Wynorski forgot this when she signed her receipt, I guess I never took it out.”

“Good thing you did, or it would have gone into the wash again,” Angus smiled, looking at Mae. “Mae, do you think you could grab a sheet or two of printer paper while you’re down there? Pretty sure the front desk hands them out.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n.” Mae said, grabbing the money and saluting.

“Hey! That’s my thing!” Gregg cried, Angus shushing him.

Mae took the elevator down to the ground floor, taking the opportunity to look at the bruise left on her hip. Parting the fur revealed an ugly purple blemish on the delicate pink-white skin underneath. In the very center of the bruise was a brownish spot that reminded Mae of a potato peel. Touching it caused a dull burn of pain.

She struggled to pull her jeans back up as the elevator came to a stop, yanking the seat up onto her waist just as the door opened. She cursed herself, probably having gained even more weight since she came home. She thought her body resembled a plastic bag full of pudding, weak but large and jiggling in the least sexy places.

Mae retrieved the sheets of paper and then approached the Fiascola machine, emblazoned with a picture of a yellow fox in shades leaning against the border of his picture, holding an open can of soda. Mae always told Gregg he could go as that guy for Harfest, with her suggestion always denied since Gregg thought he “looked nothing like him.” Mae slid the dollar bill into the slot, only for it to be spat back out with an angry beep.

“What? Come on!” Mae flattened and creased the dollar against the machine, attempting again with no luck. “Gah, chew and swallow, you effing-!”

“It’s upside down.” Bea came out of the women’s restroom, drying her hands on a wad of brown paper towels.

“Oh.” Mae flipped the dollar over and tried again, the machine accepting the bill without any fuss. “Thanks. When’d you get here?”

“Barely a minute ago. How’s your wound?” Bea asked.

“It only hurts if I touch it.” Mae dropped in the two quarters and pressed the button for a Diet Fiascola. The machine gave a faint whirr followed by a metallic thunk near the bottom, Mae retrieving the soda. “Hey, it’s actually cold. Pretty much every can I ever bought was room temp at best.”

“The library can probably afford to repair their drink machine if they can afford three floors worth of books.” Bea replied.

“True.”

The two of them went to the elevator, Bea pressing the call button with her thumb before relaxing against the wall with her phone out.

“So how’s staying at Germ’s?” she asked without looking up.

“Uh, good. He’s got a big house. I pretty much have my own floor.” Mae said.

“So they’re rich? Doesn’t surprise me. I think a lot of his family’s in construction.” Bea said.

“Why do you think that?” Mae asked.

“Why else would he have dynamite?” Bea replied. “Even Germ couldn’t find that just laying around.”

With a shrill ding, the elevator opened up, the two girls stepping inside and riding up towards the third floor.

“About last night. In the car,” Bea said after a lengthy bit of silence. “I meant what I said, about talking to me if you need it.”

“I know, that was real badass of you.”

“No, really, seeing you cry like that made me think of when I lost Mom. I remember how alone I felt.” Bea crossed her arms.

“Oh. Uh… I’m still sorry I wasn’t there…” Mae said.

“I know, but you drew the shit stick this time, and you’ve treated me alright since you got back, so...”

The elevator doors slid open.

“Thanks.” Mae said, a small smile on her lips.

Bea simply nodded and went out, Mae following behind her with the soda and paper.

---

About an hour later, the four of them left the library, Angus rattling off a plan for the evening aloud.

“So, I’ll type up the research and send it out tonight. Mae, you can have the original copy once I’m done with it. Or I could just print you off a typed copy at home if you can’t read my writing.”

“Your handwriting’s a gazillion times better than mine, Big Guy. But before we go back to the apartment, you think we could stop by Selmers’ house?”

“Fine with me.” Angus said.

“No complaints.” Bea added

“You wanna make sure she’s okay?” Gregg asked.

“Well, yeah, and there’s someone I wanted to talk to,” Mae said. “You guys remember Mr. Chazokov?”

“Course, the astronomy teacher.” Bea said.

“He lives with Selmers, and he stands on her roof to use his telescope. I want to know if he talked to the cops, I said he might be a potential witness?”

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s go!” Gregg cried.

It was a short ride to the Forrester’s, made even shorter by the fact that it was mostly downhill. Mae paid close attention to all traffic signals this time, actually stopping at the intersection.

“You guys go on ahead, I’m gonna go park.” Bea called out of her window, turning down a different street towards her apartments’ parking garage. Mae and Gregg cruised to a stop at the bottom of the hill, leaving their bikes on the sidewalk in front of the Forrester’s.

“I’ll keep watch. Not taking any chances after last night.” Gregg said, standing beside the two bicycles. That left Angus and Mae to head up to the porch, Mae ringing the doorbell.

“She’s usually sitting out here, isn’t she?” Angus asked.

“Uh, yeah..?” Mae swallowed and rang the doorbell again, only for the door to open a few moments later.

“Hey dork,” Selmers, in a gray T-Shirt and sweatpants, smiled and leaned against the doorframe. “Hey Angus. Thought you were the pizza boy.”

“Selmeeers,” Mae gave her girlfriend a quick hug, not sure if her parents were around. “I’m doing alright. Uh, question, do you know if the cops talked to Mr. Chazokov?”

“Mr. Chazokov? Not that I know of. You want to ask him?” Selmers pointed a thumb over her shoulder.

“Sure.”

Selmers let Mae inside, looking at Angus. “You can come in too, if you want.”

“Oh, right, sorry. Thank you.” Angus briefly glanced at Gregg before entering as well.

Selmers’ living room was dimly lit but cozy. A plush green couch with a colorful quilt draped over the back sat against the left wall, a recliner of the same color and fabric positioned across from it in front of a small flat-screen television. A linoleum path leading off to the kitchen stood to the right, and a set of stairs curling upward into the house began in the top-right corner, sunlight filtering down from them.

“My folks are off playing Canasta with some friends, so it’s just me and Mr. Chazokov. He said he was spending this weekend writing lesson plans, so he’s been cooped up in his room.” Selmers said, leading them up the stairs.

“How long has he lived with your family?” Angus asked.

“Few years, I think? Ever since they tore down his old condo.”

The upstairs hallway was brightly lit by a large window at the end of the hallway. Two doors stood on each side, and another set of stairs led further up on the right, presumably to the roof. Selmers stopped at the first door on the left, knocking.

“Mr. Chazokov?” Selmers called. She frowned and pressed her ear to the door before knocking again.

“Maybe he’s on the roof?” Mae suggested.

“Nah, he’s probably got headphones on.” Selmers tried the door and opened it up. “Mr. Chazokov?”

A sound Mae had never heard Selmers make before made both her and Angus jump. A sharp, rattling gasp as she clapped a hand over her mouth and stumbled backwards into the wall. Mae turned to look inside and immediately wished she hadn’t.

Mr. Chazokov was upright and limp, dressed in his pajamas with his toes dangling just a few inches off of the ground. A length of cord hung from the ceiling fan, snugly wrapped about his neck. His warm and friendly eyes were half-shut, staring forlorn at the carpet. A note was taped to his chest.

Mae didn’t remember who found their voice first, but whoever it was began to scream.

Chapter 7: The Displaced Person
“Mae?”

Mr. Chazokov peered around his desktop into the mostly empty science room. It was a Friday afternoon, seventh period, so most of the class had finished their test as soon as they could to head into the cafeteria for the last bell. The only student left was Mae Borowski, still scribbling away in the essay section of the test.

“Mae. It is almost time to go,” Mr. Chazokov said. “You’re going to miss your bus.”

“Almost…” Mae said without looking up. She normally couldn’t give less of a shit about tests, especially at the end of the week. She could stomach her C’s and rare B minuses if it meant getting to hang out with Gregg and Casey a little longer. Mr. Chazokov’s class was different. She was clinging to her A for dear life, and this test was poised to drop her down to another B. Astronomy was the one subject this year that kept her attention, and she had worked her hardest to show that she actually cared about it. But she couldn’t remember the name of one stupid star, and it was throwing her entire essay question off.

“Mae.” Mr. Chazokov was suddenly standing over her desk. For a big fellow, he could move quickly when he wanted to. Mae once saw him almost teleport over to Lachlan McElroy’s desk to confiscate his phone.

“I’m so close, please just give me a little bit more time.” Mae begged, looking up at the bear. “I studied for hours last night.”

Mr. Chazokov took advantage of her distraction to slide the paper away from her, examining her essay that sprawled onto the back of the page.

“I think this is more than enough.” he said.

“But…”

Mr. Chazokov put a hand on her desk, looking directly into her eyes.

“I am not going to deny you credit for trying your hardest, Mae. This shows me that you care,” Mr. Chazokov gestured to her massive essay. “Not only that, but you are one of the only students that talks with me when you do not understand something.”

Mae shook her head. “I-I did terrible, I know I did…”

“I will be the judge. Astronomy is a tricky subject. If you feel that you did your very best, I am sure that will earn you some credit.”

“Is that allowed?” Mae asked.

“I am the teacher. This is my classroom, I make the rules.” Mr. Chazokov said with a soft smile.

Mae felt her body decompress, letting out a long, shaking sigh. “Thanks, Mr. Chazokov.”

“Go home and enjoy your weekend, Mae.” Mr. Chazokov replied, adding Mae’s exam to the pile on the front table.

“No, really… thank you,” Mae repeated as she grabbed her bookbag. “You’re too cool for school.”

“Just try your very best, Mae, and you will go somewhere that you are happy.” Mr. Chazokov said.

---

“I didn’t listen…”

Mae whispered this with a raw throat. She sat in Interrogation Room 1, her parents on either side of her, Aunt Molly and Officer Palahniuk sitting across from her, taking notes.

“Didn’t listen to what, Mae?” Mr. Borowski asked.

“He… Mr. Chazokov told me to always try my best.” Mae said.

“Did you see anyone suspicious leaving or entering the Forrester’s before you arrived?” Officer Palahniuk asked.

“No. ...It’s my fault he’s dead, isn’t it?” Mae asked. “If I hadn’t told you all about him, no one ever would have gone after him.”

Officer Palahniuk gave a short sigh, closing his notebook. “We’re not getting anywhere with her. Let’s move on to the two boys.”

Mrs. Borowski gave a short, offended gasp at the officer’s behavior. Molly shot her partner a searing glare before getting up and sitting on the edge of the table.

“Mae. The only person at fault here is whoever attacked Mr. Chazokov.”

The younger cat didn’t reply, her father squeezing her shoulder.

“You did the right thing recommending him as a witness, he had a clear view of the street and a fantastic memory.”

“Well it won’t do any good now, will it?!” Mae shouted. “He’s dead, dead, because I couldn’t close my fat mouth! He was my friend...”

“I know you’re heartbroken, Mae… But this is it,” Molly put a firm paw on Mae’s knee. “You have my word, as an officer of the law and as your family, that no one else is getting hurt on my watch.”

Mae sat back, a faint tremble visible on her shoulders.

“You have to have some idea of who did this, right?” Mrs. Borowski implored. “DNA evidence or a footprint or anything?”

“We’re only getting closer, Candy,” Aunt Molly replied, tucking her notebook into her front pocket. “And right after I talk to Mr. Delaney and Mr. Lee, I’m headed to the mayor’s office to instill a curfew. The town’s shook up enough already, the last thing we need is people going out at night trying to be heroes.”

“We would have liked to avoid public outcry, but we can barely keep the press off our tails. Whoever did this is probably loving the publicity.” Officer Palahniuk shot an accusing glance at Mae.

“Screw you, asswipe!” Mae snapped.

“Mae!” Mr. Borowski exclaimed. Mrs. Borowski only glared at Palahniuk, giving a slight nod of approval.

“As tactless as Officer Palahniuk is being,” Molly began, over-enunciating the consonants in the word ‘tactless,’ “He has a point. We’re going to try and keep the circumstances of Mr. Chazokov’s passing under wraps to avoid press attention. Hopefully if we take all the spotlights off these crimes, the perp will lose interest, maybe even let his guard down. So that means you keep your lips sealed about this, all three of you. What we just discussed doesn’t leave this building. You three are free to go.”

Molly patted Mae’s knee before getting to her feet and snapping her fingers for Officer Palahniuk to follow her, heading to Interrogation Room 2 to speak with Angus and Gregg. Since so many people were potential witnesses, there was no room for anybody in the already cramped station. Gregg and Angus were waiting in Interrogation Room 2, and poor Selmers had to sit in the holding cell, which was thankfully unoccupied.

“Mae, hon, do you need anything..?” Mrs. Borowski asked as the family got to their feet. “We’ll buy you dinner tonight.”

“Not hungry.” Mae said in a flat voice.

“Do you want to stay with us? I’m sure Aunt Molly wouldn’t mind you on the couch.” It turned out that there was no safe-house at the police station, so Mae’s parents had been staying in Aunt Molly’s spare bedroom at her apartment uptown.

“I’ll be okay,” Mae replied. “Germ’s house is safe.”

“I want you where I can see you, Mae.” Mrs. Borowski insisted.

“I said I’ll be okay. Germ’s house is out of the way, there are more people there and more doors to hide behind.”

“Mae-”

“Candy, Mae has a good point,” Mr. Borowski cut in. “All of this happened in town.”

Mae felt the knot in her stomach tighten. Her dad was right, all of the bodies turned up in the city limits, practically all on the same street. Which meant that pretty much everyone she knew might be next to go. Selmers’ house was a stone’s throw from Bea’s apartment, and Gregg and Angus weren’t too far away from them, a short walk at most. If the killer could sneak into Selmers’ house undetected, he or she would probably have no problem getting into a cheap apartment, stealthily or by force.

“Back in a sec, I need to talk to Selmers.” Mae said, ignoring her parents’ bickering and approaching a police officer she didn’t recognize. The cop, clearly near the end of her shift, grabbed a key off of the nearby rack and led her to the back of the station, past the other Interrogation Room. Mae glanced inside to see Gregg and Angus, but the glass on the door was too scratchy and faded to see anything clearly. The cop unlocked a thick metal door at the end of the hall.

“Make it quick, you’re not supposed to be back here.” she said, opening the door and letting Mae inside. The cop followed her into the chilly room and shut the door behind her, leaning against it and checking her cell phone.

Selmers sat behind bars, alone, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. She looked up at Mae with swollen red eyes and gave her a smile.

“Hey…” she said, in a voice as fragile as tissue paper. “You okay?”

Mae leapt forward and grasped the metal bars, Selmers getting up and placing a warm paw on the cat’s.

“You’re not a suspect, are you..?” Mae asked. “You didn’t do anything!”

“They told me it’d be better if I stayed here ‘til they finish dusting for prints. They want to make absolutely sure.” Selmers said with a tone of familiarity..

“You’ve got somewhere to go when they let you out, right?” Mae asked.

“My uncle’s condo in Durkillesburg. As far away from here as possible.” Selmers replied.

“Good. I want you to stay safe.” Mae finally let go of her girlfriend, spotting the two jewel-bright tear drops that had leaked from her eyes. Mae had never seen Selmers cry, and it made the time-bomb waiting to go off inside of her click closer to zero.

“Sorry,” Selmers wiped her face. “You stay safe too. I’ll text you when they let me out...”

After another mutual promise to stay safe, Mae left the room, the cop leading her back to her parents without looking up from the game she was playing on her phone. It wasn’t until later that Mae realized Selmers was supposed to start her first official job since being paroled at the library tomorrow. Life had once again gotten it’s stupid face in the way of Selmers moving out of her parents’ house and starting her own life.

Mae sat silently between her parents and waited for her Aunt to finish questioning Angus and Gregg. Gregg probably wouldn’t have needed to be there at all if he hadn’t dashed into the house upon hearing screams. He broke a lamp in the sitting room on his way up the stairs. Mae could hear him promising to pay for the damage once they finally exited the Interrogation Room, probably costing him and Angus some of their scarce savings to move to Bright Harbor.

“I think it might be prudent of you boys to get a ride home with the Borowskis,” Molly said. “It’d be a tight fit, but it’d spare you all the nonsense out there.” She jabbed a thumb towards the front door, where the paparazzi was no doubt waiting to pounce on them.

Mae had no energy for objections. She, Gregg, and Angus were shepherded out the front door, the crowd of reporters descending on them. Her dad shoved microphones and the occasional tape recorder out of their path, warning anyone against getting too close. They eventually managed to reach the door of her mom’s old car, the three young adults squishing into the back seat, Angus sandwiched between Gregg and Mae. Mae laid her head on Angus’ shoulder, which he didn’t object or react to.

The ride back to the apartment was spent in an aching silence only broken by Gregg giving directions. The unfairness of the situation had begun digging its claws into all of those that had grew up around Mr. Chazokov. He had never hurt a soul in his life, only to be murdered and mocked by a wannabe thug that probably thought themselves the next Zodiac Killer. Mae’s lower lip gave an involuntary twitch. One tick closer to zero.

Mae’s parents let the three of them out at the sidewalk, wishing Gregg and Angus a safe evening.

“We’ll wait for you and Jeremy out here, sweetie.” Mae’s mother said, her dad puzzling over how to get Germ’s bicycle into their car.

Upstairs, they found Germ still seated in front of the couch, his character duking it out with a massive, steely-gray dragon on the television screen. His subtle smile dissolved when he saw the looks on his friends’ faces.

“What happened?” he asked.

Angus pressed a hand to his eyes, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead. The bear inhaled a sob before hurrying out of the room. Gregg took a few steps after him before halting in the middle of the rug, giving Mae a desperate look.

“We’ll talk later, you can go.” Mae said. Gregg took his leave while Mae sat on the couch. She could sense Germ’s eyes on her, but it took a moment for her to actually meet them.

“The murderer got Mr. Chazokov.” was the only thing she felt she had permission to say.

Germ blinked a few times, slumping back against the couch and letting his character get mauled.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“My parents are gonna give you a lift back to your house. We don’t want you riding home in the dark.”

“Thank you. Are you okay?” Germ asked again.

“No,” Mae said after a long pause. “I’m feeling pretty shitty right now.”

“My parents are gonna make sloppy joes tonight.” Germ replied.

“We gotta go like, now, Germ.” Mae said.

“Alright.” Germ turned the console off and followed Mae out of the apartment. Mr. Borowski managed to squeeze Germ’s bicycle in the trunk, Gregg’s bike and Eve’s bike were still at the Forresters, cordoned off as part of the crime scene. The cops were supposed to deliver them back to their owners once they were finished sniffing around.

“Hi Jeremy!” Mae’s mom said in a cheery voice. “Long time no see.”

“Hi Mrs. Mae.” Germ said, waving a bit before climbing into the car. Germ called all of his friends’ parents by their kid’s name. Anyone that knew Germ had simply grown to expect it, and it was up to them whether they got used to it or not.

Mae heard none of the ensuing conversation between her mother and Germ. She only gave a vacant stare to the buildings and trees that she passed by. She felt her phone buzz, a rare moment where a message actually cut through the abysmal reception.

It was from Bea. “Hey.”

Mae texted back. “Hey.”

“I don’t even know what to say at this point.” Bea replied.

Mae wrote and erased several possible replies before finally sending “me neither.” Her phone buzzed angrily back at her that the message had failed to send, and she shoved it back into her pocket, returning to stare at the rosy twilight.

They reached Germ’s front yard just as the sun was disappearing completely. Mae hugged her parents, returning their wishes to be safe and promising to call them later. She followed Germ into the backyard, where he locked up his bike and let her into the basement.

“Want me to call you when dinner’s ready?” he asked.

“Not hungry.” Mae said again.

“Okay. I’ll save you some food. I think Sean keeps drinks in the rec room mini-fridge if you want any.” Germ said before heading upstairs.

Mae went into her bedroom and laid down. The time bomb in her stomach clicked to zero and exploded. She sobbed until her lungs and throat ached from overuse and her tears soaked through the pillowcase.

---

Mae glanced up at the digital clock when her blubbering finally made the pain in her gut back off for the time being. 10:55 at night. An hour and a half had gone by. She was struck by a choking thirst, a result of both not drinking much all day and emptying half of the water in her body onto the pillow. She got up to go check the mini-fridge, praying that no one was down there.

The rec room was thankfully empty, with a rainbow of yoga mats and colorful exercise balls strewn about like an oversized playmat. The fridge sat at the foot of yet another bed, the tacky floral sheets and comforter neatly dressed. Mae got onto her knees and opened the fridge, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

All available space was occupied with cans of beer, mostly the super manly stuff that bikers drank with their giant imported cigars. Through smeary vision, Mae saw a mason jar full of cornshine as well. She remembered Gregg talking about how his dad used to pound it down like soda, but she had never seen any in person before. If she tried any, she would probably immediately die of alcohol poisoning.

Mae grabbed the closest drink available, a tall black can of Guinness, and snapped it open, whitish-brown froth burbling out of the top. Without hesitating, she greedily drank half of the can. The beer inside was dark, thick and unapologetically bitter. After a pause to catch her breath and let out a hideous belch, Mae drained the rest, tossing the can to the side and grabbing another. She made it about a third of the way through before the room began to blur, and a bubble of laughter made its way out of her throat.

“Mae?” A voice from the door asked.

Mae turned to find Germ standing there, holding a solo cup.

“...Germinator.” Mae replied, laughing again.

“I saved you some food.” the little bird said, shepherding Mae into the main room past the pool table. Mae clung to her second can of beer as she stumbled over to the plush couch. Though grief had neutered her appetite before, the alcohol in her belly made her realize how empty it was.

“Thanks…” Mae said as she sat down on the couch. A paper plate with a sloppy joe, green beans and out-of-the-freezer macaroni and cheese sat on the coffee table, and Mae tore into the sandwich.

“Sorry about Mr. Chazokov.” Germ said.

“Mmm.” was Mae’s only reply. She didn’t bother talking through a mouthful of ground meat and a tangy, homemade sauce that was both delicious and probably going to give her terrible heartburn. She washed it down with beer.

“That’s Sean’s Guinness.” Germ said, looking over Mae’s shoulder at the beer can she left on the floor. Mae swallowed and looked at Germ with glazed eyes.

“You said to help myself.” she grunted before taking another too-large bite out of the sandwich.

“I know. He’s probably gonna blame Perch for it anyway. You look three sheets to the wind.”

“I look what to the who..?” Mae replied, this time not bothering to swallow. A fleck of beef fell from her mouth onto her jeans. She didn’t notice.

“Three sheets to the wind. It’s what Gramma says when someone has too much to drink.” Germ replied.

“Your Gramma’s weird…” Mae said after swallowing, immediately wishing she could take back what she just said.

“Maybe a bit. Has she talked to you alone yet?” Germ asked.

“Talked to-” Mae’s slowed mental capacities coupled with her shock at Germ not reacting to hearing his grandmother insulted left her unable to complete her sentence.

“You should talk to her alone.” Germ said.

“Why..?” Mae asked.

“You just should.” Germ replied.

“N- Germ, are you screwing with me..? ‘Cuz I’m not in the mood..!” Mae snapped.

“Sorry.” Germ said in a quieter voice. Mae felt a jab of guilt in her stomach.

“Germ… Listen, you’re so effing nice. You let me live with you, eat your food and drink your beer… I’m such a dumpster fire I’d probably not even notice if something effed up happened to you…” She hiccuped and took another long gulp of beer.

“You’re not a dumpster fire.” Germ said.

“I’m a total friggin’ burnout, Germ..! I can’t even finish college..! All I do is embarrass people..! My parents, Bea… I bet even Gregg thinks I’m embarrassing..!”

Mae was aware she was shouting, but couldn’t stop herself.

“Anybody that trusts me to grow up or do something with my life winds up let down or dead..! I don’t deserve any of this, the food, the bed, the friends… I deserve a box. A cardboard box in a sewer…”

“I’d like to live in a sewer. No neighbors or rent.” Germ said.

“Are you even listening?!” Mae bellowed, pounding a fist on the coffee table. The tremor knocked her can onto the floor, dark beer gurgling out onto the carpet.

“Oh shit! Oh shit, I’m sorry!” Mae fell to her knees to pick the can up, smacking her bruised torso on the corner of the coffee table on the way down. A yelp later and she was on her back clutching her side.

Germ stood up and retrieved the can, going into the bathroom for something to clean up the beer. Mae remained on the carpet beside the stain, whimpering drunkenly. By the time Germ returned with a wet towel, Mae’s incoherent whining had turned into sobbing.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Germ took a few minutes to sponge the beer out of the carpet with the damp towel, finally setting it down on the coffee table and sitting on the carpet beside Mae. The cat had curled in on herself, mewling into her knees.

“Every person does shitty things.” he said. “You let me hang out with you guys and watch your band. That makes you pretty alright to me.”

Mae didn’t say anything in return apart from a loud, wet sniff. Germ crossed his legs and watched her for a while. When her crying eventually slowed to a stop, he climbed to his feet, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket and heading upstairs.

Mae caught him halfway up the stairs in a wet, bitter kiss.