Jeff Strand - Dweller

“Are you trying to start the faux pas count again?”

“You’re right. That was dumb. Sorry.”

“No, I’m kidding. I’m thirty-six.”

“I’m forty.”

“Damn, you’re old.”

“And decrepit. And I talk about my medical problems all the time. The ache in my knee means it’s getting ready to rain.”

“You’re a very goofy man, Toby.”

“Thank you.” Holy shit! She remembered his name! “Usually I’m awful at carrying on conversations.”

“Me, too. I just babble and forget words and stuff.”

“Did you already have lunch?”

“I did. But I didn’t have a hot fudge sundae.”

“Do you want to get a hot fudge sundae?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

It occurred to Toby that if he had talked and behaved this way in all of his social interactions, he might not have a life where his best friend had fur. Oh, sure, he wasn’t a brilliant conversationalist or a sparkling wit or a charismatic force of nature, but he was comfortable, reasonably charming, and Sarah seemed to genuinely like him.

Toby told her that he didn’t have children. She explained that she and Tom had never had kids, either-they’d wanted to, but the time never seemed right. Tom had one daughter from a previous marriage who had never really warmed up to Sarah and who she hadn’t seen since the funeral.

He talked about the deaths of his parents. He did not talk about the death of Melissa.

She talked about the death of her husband. And then the death of her cat, Rexford, who got hit by a car. Then they joked about the fact that they were eating hot fudge sundaes and talking about death, and decided to move on to more lighthearted subjects.

They were both always the “weird kids” in school.

Her grades were usually C’s and D’s, because it took until the tenth grade to discover that she was dyslexic. Now she loved to read, but she was slow and had to really concentrate-no distractions. So school was taking up almost all of her free time, but it would be worth it in the end. If she figured out what she wanted to do by the time she graduated, of course.

Toby told her about how much he loved to spend time in the woods. He did not tell her about Owen.

They continued talking for over an hour after the sundaes were reduced to a thin layer of melted goo in the bottom of their bowls.

“I should get this out of the way,” Sarah said, twisting her napkin. “I’m not looking to see anybody right now. But I could sure use a friend.”

“So could I.”

“Anyway, you don’t want to date somebody as messed up as me. I’m a wreck. I figure you’ll probably be even looking for a way out of the friendship in a couple of weeks, so here.” She took a pen out of her purse, wrote on the back of the receipt for the sundaes, and gave the receipt to Toby: “Get Out Of Friendship Free.”

“That’s really dark,” Toby noted.

“Yet considerate.”

“I’m sure I won’t need it. We’ve only just scratched the surface of my own issues. I guarantee you, if we made a list of reasons why the other one of us should run as fast as they possibly can, mine would be longer and scarier.”

“I’ll take your word on that. I don’t think we should actually make the list, though. This dessert was going so well.”

“I agree.”

“I should get going. I promised my next-door neighbor that I’d watch her yard sale while she took the kids to baseball practice. Call me sometime, okay?”

“I will.”

They walked out of the ice-cream parlor, and Sarah extended her hand. “Very nice to meet you, Toby.”

“And very nice to meet you, Sarah.”

“Talk to you soon.”

“Absolutely.”

Toby threw away the receipt.

“I didn’t screw it up!” Toby cheerfully proclaimed. “Can you believe it? I wasn’t creepy, I wasn’t a babbling idiot, I didn’t spill hot fudge all over my shirt-okay, one small spot, but I don’t think she even noticed. It was amazing. She says she’s not looking to actually date right now, but that’s totally fine with me. She’s still getting over her husband. But I had such a good time. It’s so great to finally have a friend like that.”

I’m friend.

“I know you are, Owen, you’re my best friend. That’s not what I meant.”

Only friend.

“You are my only friend. I mean, were my only friend. I mean-you know what I mean. Don’t get jealous on me. What the hell? I’m telling you about the beautiful woman who likes me. I’m middle-aged now, and I didn’t exactly have women swarming me when I was young and virile. Just chill.”

Owen turned away from him and sat down on the beanbag.

“Oh, what, you’re going to pout now? You’re going to give me crap because I suddenly have a human friend? You need to grow up, Owen.”

Without looking back, Owen waved for him to leave.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. Which, I would like to emphasize, is my whole point. Did I abandon you when I was with Melissa? Did I?”

No response.

“No, I didn’t. And you know what, she was insatiable. There were lots of times when I came out here to spend time with you when I could’ve been getting laid like a porn star! Did you see me getting jealous when you ditched me for two years to be with your other monster buddies? Two years! If you’re so goddamn jealous of me having a relationship with my own species, why don’t you go visit them, huh?”

Toby’s shoulders fell. “Aw, shit, Owen, I’m sorry. There’s no excuse for that. It was just mean.”

He stepped toward Owen, who didn’t look back, but let out a menacing growl.

“Don’t do that, Owen. I’m serious.”

The growling got louder. Owen looked back at Toby, teeth bared.

“I’m going to leave while you get yourself sorted out,” Toby said, “but if you think that I haven’t made sacrifices for our friendship, huge ones, then you can fuck off and die.”

He stormed out of the shack. What a horrible, ungrateful friend. Owen should be happy for him, thrilled for him, not all pissy. How dare he show his teeth like that? Toby wanted to walk back in there and kick them out, like he had Brutus’s. Watch Owen spit fangs out onto the floor. He wouldn’t be so inclined to throw a jealous fit after that, would he?

Toby really shouldn’t have made the comment about visiting the other monsters. That was an awful thing to say. Cruel.

But, still, he wasn’t going to beat himself up over it. Owen was the one being unreasonable. Owen was the selfish one who didn’t want to see his friend happy if it meant getting in a few minutes less playtime.

Screw him.

Screw that stupid, selfish, murdering monster.

Toby didn’t need him. What value did he bring to Toby’s life? Some growling and some fucking hand signals? Wow, how could he ever live without that? He might not get to hear Owen’s one-word vocabulary anymore. “Toby.” What a loss.

Toby got madder and madder as he walked away from the shack-the shack that Toby had done most of the work on, thank you very much. It wasn’t an architectural marvel, but it was a shitload better than the filthy cave he was lurking in for two decades, and if Owen didn’t appreciate his efforts, then Toby would just leave him out in the woods to rot. He could sit there and tear apart his beanbag some more and grow old and die and decay right into the wood.

And screw walking away. He was going to march back there and tell that asshole that he was on his own from now on. If he wanted to be a great big jealous baby, he could find himself another best friend, somebody with absolutely no life who had nothing better to do all day long than sit in a shack with an animal.

He went back and pushed open the door. “You know what, Owen, I just want to say-”