Page 14 of You Spin Me

Phil shrugs and pushes back into the kitchen. I sneak a few pretzels to Blondie. Once she’s wolfed them down, she settles onto the floor with a grunt.

So, this girl. Jess.

People call. Sometimes people call a few times, even call back after a few weeks, and I remember them. Sometimes they need to talk, to tell their stories. I’m a good listener.

But this girl? I want to tell hermystory.

And believe me, that never happens.

Who’d want to hear my story? My sad sack of a story? Nobody, that’s who.

Phil slides my dinner across the bar. I share it with the dog. After I finish my beer, we head out. Since my hands are full, I don’t bother with a leash. Blondie knows the routine, anyway.

I’ve always walked her after my shift. One night last summer, I saw a couple of cops hassling a panhandler. It bothered me, so I asked Phil what he did with his food waste at the end of the night.

Throw it away, he sighed.Then chase dumpster divers away from it.I figured I could kill a couple of birds with one stone by delivering the leftovers to people who are hungry. So far, the system seems to be working. We do have to make sure the health department doesn’t hear about it because they’d shut the thing down.

Blondie shadows me as we head down an alley between Fenway Park and the gardens to a spot where a group of homeless guys regularly set up. I leave a couple bags with Walt, who’ll share the food with warier guys. We chat for a few minutes, and I ask if he needs anything. Like always, he says no. I carry the others up to a camp under the Storrow Drive underpass to leave them with the usual suspects, and then Blondie and I walk home.

It’s wicked cold tonight. I wish these guys would go to a shelter, but I get it. Some people just don’t fit in. At least when I go back to my warm loft, I know they have food in their bellies.

Back at my building, Blondie and I take the elevator instead of the stairs since there’s no chance of meeting anybody at this hour. Another beer for me, fresh water for her, food for the cat and I flop on the couch. I should go to bed, but that girl Jessica’s voice won’t stop tickling my brain. Something about it. It’s musical, but not in a fake way. A rollercoaster of expression. I can’t even imagine the face that’d match that voice. Full of life. Meeting the world head-on.

Blondie’s wet nose worms its way under my wrist. She knows the spots that get my attention, that I can feel without her having to press through scars.

Stroking her soft fur, I mumble, “Yeah, okay. Bedtime.” She steps back, wiggling, and bumps into the coffee table. “You goon. You’ve got to be careful when you only got one eye.”

My body practically creaks out loud as I stand, slowly stretching tight skin, hoping to avoid shadow pain. A yawn takes over. Maybe I’ll get to sleep quickly tonight.

Jessica’s voice in my ear soothes my soul in a way not even music canis my last thought before I slip into sleep.

Chapter5

Warning-warning-warning. You’ve entered the CAL-zone. BWAH-HA-HA-HA. Cal Alonso, rocking your Friday night. It’s ten fifteen at 101.7. Up next, I’ve got the live version of U2’s “Bad” from theWide Awake in AmericaEP. Get ready for a full eight minutes of a band on fire.

JESS

I swear Cal plays upbeat songs from ten to eleven for me—to keep me awake as I drive home—but maybe that’s being a bit too self-centered.

“Hey, who was singing that song with the ‘Deh-buh-bee-buh-bop?’ Is it called ‘Don’t Let’s Start’?” I ask when he gets on the line.

“Yeah, that was They Might Be Giants.”

“Oh man, I wish I’d known about them earlier. I think the kids in my classes would’ve liked them.”

“Their lyrics are pretty silly.”

“It’s so fun. A bit different for you, right?”

“You’ve been paying attention.”

“I might be analyzing your choices, yes.” I put on a fake Austrian accent to play psychiatrist. “Tell me about your childhood. Vaht made you vant to be a… disc yawkey? Iss dat how you say?”

He snorts out a laugh. “My life isn’t that interesting.”

Dropping the accent, I switch tacks. “To you, maybe. Probably a lot of people think that. But I’m a Sag so I’m curious.”

“Sag?”

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