Page 88 of Chaos Theory
I sense a well-rehearsed speech is about to begin, and I’m not wrong.
‘This place is a living legacy. Passed down through generations of sublets for years. You wouldn’t believe how cheap the rent is. We think maybe the landlord died or forgot about it – that’s why it hasn’t been painted or anything in years. We just keep quiet and try to maintain the delicate ecosystem. If explorers ever come interfering, the native species might die. If not literally, at leastfinancially.’
‘But what if something breaks?’
‘We fix it ourselves.’
‘Really?’
I nod towards the perfect arc of a large crack in the front window.
‘It’s on the list. It’s Alek’s turn to sort it though.’
I’ve only met Shane’s housemate once. Nice enough. Second-generation Polish. Parents probably came to Dublin for the great construction boom of the early 2000s. You’d think with all that building work there’d be plenty of places to rent now, but the truth is that Shane is lucky to have found anything affordable. So many people have left the city because they couldn’t make it work.
He joins me on the sofa. His descent into the couch momentarily buoys my end, then we both gradually sink down again. The battered old girl has seen better days for sure, but there’s life in her yet.
‘So tell me more about today,’ he says. ‘I read your email highlights this afternoon. Sounds like it was eventful.’
I sigh, take a tiny sip. ‘It was…a lot. A lot of big things coming at me very fast.’
‘Lucky you.’ He smirks into his mug of builder’s tea. The milky fin of a teabag threatens the surface.
I grab a limp cushion – the only loose cushion residing in the entire house, I’m pretty sure – and lightly bop it against his arm. ‘Behave!’
I can’t help but smile – and notice how his bicep deflects the puny assault with the merest flex.
‘Watch the tea!’ He places his mug on the wooden table. No sign of a coaster, of course. ‘This is a classy joint, you know. We have standards.’
I sigh into my mug.
‘What’s up?’
‘I just have a lot to think about, and I have to do it quickly.’
‘Well, that suits you. You’re good at thinking. Everything after that – well, the jury’s still out.’
I see him eye the sole living heir of Cushion Kingdom warily, bracing for another attack. But I just clutch my tea closer, nestling it to my chest like a mama bird nurturing a fledgling.
‘What is there to think about, really, though?’ he continues. ‘You said it was your dream job in the email.’
I blow gently on the tea, inhaling its minty warmth in return. ‘I said itsoundedlike a dream job.’
‘Ah now. You’ve done the study, you’ve put the work in, and now you have the experience. It makes sense that this would be the next logical step.’
‘But what if I mess up or, you know, disappoint them? What if they think I’m one person, but I’m really someone else? All joking aside, I really don’t know what I’m doing.’
As I’m saying it, I wonder if I’m talking about more than just work. What happens when you take a risk, let someone in?
He turns towards me, speaks quietly. ‘Maeve, let me let you in on a little secret: none of us know what we’re doing.’
‘But what if it doesn’t work out?’
‘None of us know if things will work out. But we’re still supposed to try.’
I don’t speak as I try to absorb this.
‘Wise words.’ I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘When did you get so wise?’
