Page 21 of Pete and His Precious

“Apparently there’s some woman who’s going on a trip to Paris, and she’s worried about her daughter while she’s gone.”

“Must be some filthy rich woman, if she’s hiring private security for her daughter.”

“Yeah. Well, it’s not just private security. She’s paying twice my normal wage, although I haven’t seen any money so I guess I’ll believe that when I see it,” I say, knowing that sometimes people say they’ll do things and they end up not keeping their word. I guess I’ve seen it all now, maybe I’ve gotten a little bit of a hard crust on me, dealing with the dregs of society.

“Wow,” Cal says. “You can adopt another anteater.”

“No. One in this family is enough,” I say, in the firmest voice I can muster, even though I’m still panting.

We’re walking around, but not so much that we can’t talk, and Leo says, “So that’s it?”

“Oh, wait, that’s not all. She made a huge, seven-figure donation to the force.”

“Now I see why you couldn’t say no.”

“It would have been hard for me to say no, but I became a police officer because I wanted to be a police officer, not personal security. And, definitely not to a ten-year-old girl. I think I would have still said no, but the chief didn’t give me a choice. He told me I was getting put on unpaid administrative leave, so that was that.”

“Yeah. I guess you can’t really afford to live if you don’t have a job.”

“No.” All of them knew that I sometimes moonlighted as a security guard for the Icebreakers home games, and that brought in a nice little extra amount every once in a while. But, it certainly wasn’t going to be enough to pay my bills if I wasn’t going to be a police officer. And I’m not sure that the chief would hire me back if I would have said no. We didn’t even get into that.

“So who is it?” Leo asked again.

“A little girl named Baxley Unger.” I shrugged. “I don’t know any Unger in town, but I don’t know any millionaires either. At least, not many.” I actually do know a few. Cal and Leo, for starters. But the millionaires I know are millionaires who don’t look like millionaires, if you know what I mean. You pass them on the street, and you wouldn’t know them from anyone else. They’re not millionaires, like millionaires who live the high life. Of course, being a millionaire isn’t what it used to be.

And it’s not like I have to worry anything about that. I’m in no danger of becoming a millionaire. Ever.

“Wow. So... You have to follow this girl around? And go to school?” Cal says, as I know he’s asking me because he’s curious, but he also wants to know exactly who this girl is whose family has all this money, because he sees a whole family of anteaters being adopted by the cash donations of these rich people he didn’t know existed.

“I’m not going to have to go into the school,” I say.

Leo punches my shoulder. “That’s a good thing.”

We laugh, because all of them know how much I hated school. It’s kind of funny that I became a cop, but it wasn’t that I hated rules, I just hated cages. And classrooms look way too much like cages.

We start walking slowly back toward the gym, the evening air settling down, feeling cold against my sweaty skin.

I’ll be happy to take a shower and get changed into dry clothes.

We talk about some other things, including Cal’s upcoming games, and married life for Leo. I asked him if he wants the ladies’ bird back, since Trixie will only say Leo’s name, and refuses to learn any new words for me.

Finally, I’m feeling better. Not just because of the run. It’s because of my buddies. They’re good guys, and maybe they didn’t exactly set out to cheer me up, but it always feels good when you know you’re not one person against the world.

We part ways, and I walk back toward my apartment, while Leo gets in his car to go meet Nora at her bake shop. Cal is heading back to the rink to get in a little bit more practice.

I for one can’t wait to sit down in my recliner, and I’m hoping I will hear Sultry Voice Woman. Even though she’s also Naked Animal Rights Lady.

I just want to hear that voice.

That’s all I’m thinking about as I walk in, and Trixie says, “Leo and his love bunny. Leo and his love bunny.”

“I almost gave you away today because of that. My name is Pete,” I say, as I walk across the kitchen, throwing my keys on the counter.

I check Trixie’s water. It’s low, so I open the cage and reach in and get it.

I try to clean his cage on a regular basis, which would be easier if I had a regular job with regular hours, but I get to it about twice a week. I had just done it the day before, so it’s not too bad.

I know from experience that if I let it go too long, it stinks. Who knew that birds smelled so bad?

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