Dreamspinner Press Year Six Greatest Hits

by JD Ruskin

  After walking into the bathroom, he stepped into the shower stall to see more of himself in the mirror over the sink. “Huh.” It was strange to see himself in the kind of clothes he used to wear. A low-level sense of unease settled in his mind. The collar on the T-shirt felt tight, even though he knew it was at least a size bigger than he normally wore. The jeans hugged his buttocks and thighs in a way that was somehow different than his usual sweatpants. Even as the thoughts occurred, he recognized how irrational they were, but the feelings persisted. Maybe I just need to get used to them.

  He left the bedroom and went back to the kitchen. He got another Tupperware container from the cabinet and set it on the counter. After testing the cookies to see if they had cooled, he began placing them into the container, putting a layer of parchment paper between each level. Task completed, he headed into the living room. Before opening the door, he took a deep breath.

  He knocked on Mrs. Simon’s door, clutching the container to his chest. Keeping his eyes focused on the marred wood, he waited a lifetime for her to open it.

  “Hello, dear. Why don’t you come in a minute, so I can thank you properly.”

  He shook his head. “No need. I was happy to help and I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do before your trip.”

  She took the container from Caleb. “Yes,” she said, looking at her feet. “I do, but you’ve done enough for me already, so I’ll let you go.”

  Caleb cocked his head to the side, less anxious to bolt. “Is there something you need help with?”

  She sighed. “I need to get Tiny to Daniel’s apartment on the fifth floor.” She patted Caleb’s hand. “But don’t you worry, dear. I’ll manage.” Her lips thinned, likely imagining carrying thirty pounds of cat up the steep staircase.

  Caleb frowned. “Why can’t the guy come get Tiny himself?”

  “Daniel is… nervous about taking care of a pet. Maybe my son can help me when he comes to pick me up.” She frowned. “Of course, Tiny can’t stand my William, so I’ll probably need to put Tiny in a pillowcase, so he doesn’t tear him to shreds.” She sighed again. “He’s gotten too fat for the cat carrier.”

  The performance was Oscar-worthy, and even though Caleb knew he was being played, he found himself offering to haul the cat upstairs anyway. She was stubborn enough to try doing it herself, and he would never forgive himself if she got hurt. She barely managed the stairs under normal circumstances. Shuddering, he imagined her trying to walk up them with the squirming monster in her arms. He also knew she wasn’t exaggerating about Tiny’s utter contempt for her son. Caleb gave the man credit. He drove forty miles twice a month to bring his mother a heavy bag of cat litter even though Caleb had offered to add it to his own grocery order. Tiny showed his appreciation by attempting to maul William to death the moment he set foot in the apartment. Caleb had handed over the last of his first-aid supplies the last time. How Tiny had managed to open the closed bedroom door was a mystery he didn’t want to contemplate. Tiny had always been a purring pile of mush when he came to visit.

  Mrs. Simon narrowed her eyes and then, much to his horror, looked him over from head to toe. “Did you buy new clothes?” Not waiting for a reply, she continued. “It’s nice to see you in something other than those ratty old sweats.” The knowing look she gave him made him want to run screaming from the room. She moved into the living room to retrieve a canvas bag with a disposable litter box poking out of the top of it. “I put everything he’ll need in here.”

  Caleb took the bag from her. The orange cat watched him as if deciding whether it was worth the effort to bolt from the room. It was hard to blame the big guy. His options were a pillowcase or a man prone to panic attacks. He would probably much prefer a big bowl of kibble and an uncovered toilet to get him through the weekend. Trying not to give out terrified vibes, Caleb reached out to rub behind the cat’s ear, his hand trembling slightly. “It’s okay, boy. I’ll get you there safe and sound.”

  Mrs. Simon was staring at Tiny or possibly his traitorous hand when she spoke. “Daniel’s in apartment 501. He’s a teacher at CSU and seems like a nice young man.” She squeezed Caleb’s arm. “I could call him and ask him to come get Tiny.”

  If you can’t handle it was her unspoken message. She was giving him an out, and he was grateful for it, but refused to back down. If he wanted a life beyond the walls of his apartment, he couldn’t rely on Logan whispering dirty things in his ear to coax him out. “I’ll be fine.” He lifted Tiny into his arms, kissing the top of his furry head. Pulling the canvas bag over his shoulder, he headed for the door. He looked back and said, “Have fun visiting your family.”

  Caleb took a deep breath before heading up the stairs, snuggling the cat close to his chest. The tabby purred and nuzzled his neck as if in encouragement as they made their way to the fifth floor. Juggling Tiny into one arm, Caleb knocked on the door of apartment 501. After only a moment, the door opened to reveal a guy with a friendly smile and a set of delicious dimples. His bright blue eyes widened when he spotted Tiny.

  “My God, he’s massive.” Opening the door further, he asked, “Do you mind coming in for a minute while I check out the bag?” He smiled sheepishly. “I’ve never taken care of a pet before.”

  “Sure,” Caleb said.

  They exchanged introductions as he followed Daniel inside. The apartment had the same layout as his place, but it somehow managed to come across as bright and cheery whereas Caleb knew his place appeared dim and gloomy. He noted a casual and comfortable-looking green couch and matching chair that faced a modest flat-screen TV. He handed over the bag to Daniel, still cuddling Tiny. The big cat peeked around the room before burying his head against Caleb’s chest. Wanting to avoid looking out the sheer curtains, he turned toward Daniel, who was setting the bag on the island counter. “Mrs. Simon mentioned you’re a professor at my alma mater.”

  Daniel nodded. His carefully styled mass of dark curls made Caleb conscious of his own mop of hair. Maybe Logan would buzz it off for me. Daniel unpacked what looked like half a dozen cans of cat food. No wonder Tiny’s huge.

  “I teach Marketing at CSU.” Daniel pulled the disposable litter box from the bag. “Any idea where I should set this up?”

  “Mrs. Simon keeps hers in the laundry room.”

  After returning from the laundry, Daniel said, “Mrs. S. said you have your own business. You design web pages, right?”

  “Yeah,” Caleb said, wondering what else she had said about him.

  “I’m always looking for guest speakers, especially alumni. Would you be interested?” His expression faltered, and his cheeks flushed. “We could do it via webcam.”

  Caleb swallowed hard and used his free hand to yank on the collar of his T-shirt. “I’m pretty busy right now. I’ll have to let you know.”

  “Sure.” He looked like he was struggling for something to say. Caleb wondered if he could get away with pretending he had left the stove on. Would that make me look like more of a basket case? He wasn’t sure he cared as long as it got him out of here.

  Before he could voice his excuse, Daniel asked, “Have you watched Tiny before?”

  “No,” Caleb said, more emphatically than he meant to. Daniel blinked rapidly.

  Caleb lifted his hand in apology. “I’m too worried he’ll get sick and I’ll need to—”

  “Oh, God!” Daniel said, loud enough to make Caleb jump. “I can’t believe I let Mrs. Simon convince me to take care of him.” He pointed a finger at Tiny. “I’ll kill him!”

  Caleb swore under his breath when Tiny’s claws pierced his shirt. Smart cat. He took a couple of steps toward the door. If he admits to drowning a kitten, we’re out of here. Tiny howled as if he had heard the words.

  “I lied,” Daniel said, like he was admitting to murdering a busload of nuns. “I got a Panda Moor goldfish this past Christmas. He was this big fat guy with bulging eyes and a black-and-white pattern.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And I killed him in less than two weeks.�
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  “Um,” Caleb said, fumbling for the words that might calm the guy. And wow, wasn’t that ironic? “How do you know he wasn’t sick when you got him?” he asked, sincerely hoping his nostrils didn’t flare like that when he was freaking out.

  “I put the tank by the window so he could see outside.” He collapsed on an island stool, covering his face with his hands. “On top of the radiator cover.”

  Caleb mentally winced as the hagfish soup he had made for Logan on Monday came to mind. He wouldn’t be eating fish again anytime soon. “You’ll be fine,” he soothed, patting Daniel’s shoulder awkwardly. “Oh, but keep the door chained.”

  “Why?”

  Caleb started to explain that Tiny was the Houdini of cats and then thought better of it. “Bring the bag and let’s sit down.” He walked over to the couch and sank into the soft cushions.

  Daniel hesitated a few moments before sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Prying Tiny from his chest, Caleb placed the cat on the cushion between them. “You’re only watching him for forty-eight hours and he’ll be asleep for most of it.” Tiny looked back at him as if to say what did I ever do to you? He tried to pet his head reassuringly. “Give him a can of food in the morning and one in the evening. Keep a bowl of fresh water out for him and you’ll have no problems.”

  Daniel didn’t look convinced. He regarded the cat as if he expected him to burst into flames any minute. Tiny yowled pathetically.

  “Reach into the bag and grab the kitty crack.”

  “Huh?”

  “Grab the little brown sack and give it to him.”

  Daniel reached into the bag and pulled out the catnip. He tossed the sack toward the cat. Tiny went crazy, pinning the sack with his massive paws and rubbing his face all over with it.

  Caleb grinned. “Congratulations.” He rubbed a finger behind Tiny’s ears. “You’ll be his new best friend.”

  Daniel watched in apparent fascination as Tiny batted the sack back and forth. “Thank you, for helping me and for not making me feel like an idiot.”

  “Not a problem,” Caleb said with a smile. “I aced Panic 101.”

  LOGAN HANDED the cup to the bored-looking cop on piss collection duty. Drugs had never been his scene. He’d watched his old man shoot every dollar he could get his hands on up his arm. Activating the sensor on the sink, he washed his hands. They had given him a breathalyzer test earlier. Who would be stupid enough to show up drunk to the parole office? Enough guys to warrant the need, apparently. He knew Dabb carried one around in his briefcase. He’d made Logan use it outside the grocery where Logan got Caleb’s food. Logan hadn’t had a drink since detox in prison. After shaking off his hands, he wiped them against his jeans as he exited the bathroom.

  This was his first time going to Dabb’s office. He met with his PO once a week, but mostly at places near Logan’s work or at his shit apartment. Today marked his one-month anniversary of being free, relatively speaking. The preteen curfew of eight o’clock would continue for another eleven months, but he’d get to scale back on his in-person check-ins if everything went okay today. He walked down the hallway, following the signs to the office area. He found the correct room, noticing Dabb sitting at his desk. What the hell? His PO was wiping his computer screen with a plushy M&M doll bigger than his hand.

  Seeming to sense Logan’s presence, Dabb turned and invited him in by waving the doll at him. Logan hesitated, looking at the bright red M&M doll and then back at his PO.

  “It’s a screen cleaner,” Dabb growled, like that made it any less weird.

  Logan suddenly found his nose itchy as he stifled a laugh. He didn’t remember there being a clause in his parole agreement about mocking his PO, but it didn’t seem worth the risk. He entered the office that was the size of a walk-in closet, and took a seat in the chair across from the desk. In spite of his resolve, he couldn’t keep from gawking. There were at least a dozen boxes of bulk M&M packages and an M&M mouse pad with a matching mouse in the shape of the blue character. Magnets covered a pair of battered-looking filing cabinets. Plushy dolls of every shape and size, coffee cups, and even something that looked like a candy dispenser were spread over nearly every available surface. The scowling visage of his PO amongst the sea of brightly covered items was too much.

  “I like M&M’s,” Dabb said.

  “Clearly.”

  Dabb’s gray eyes narrowed. “My girls are young, but they still like to pick out presents themselves.” He pulled out a framed photo of two curly-headed girls from his desk drawer, likely elementary-school age. Someone—hopefully the kids and not Dabb—had glued M&M’s all around the frame. It was disgustingly adorable.

  “They’re real cute.”

  Dabb looked at the photo with a sappy smile on his face before he tucked it back into the desk drawer. Logan started to wonder why he didn’t keep it out when the reality of his PO’s job hit him. He likely deals with some sick fucks. It was a sobering thought, but he was glad that Dabb wasn’t afraid to show him the picture.

  “Okay, we need to fill out a monthly report of your activities. I am hoping you brought the information we talked about. It asks for info on your residence, employment, police encounters, alcohol treatment, and payment of supervision fees.” Dabb handed Logan a sheet of paper on a clipboard. “And here’s a pen,” he said matter-of-factly, as if daring Logan to comment on the M&M-shaped cap.

  Logan bit his lower lip to keep from smiling and started on the form. The contact information was easy to enter, but he hesitated when he got to the employment section. “What should I put for hours?” His regular shift was 4:00 a.m. to 8:00 a.m., but he took on additional shifts whenever he got the chance.

  “Put the time for your regular hours and I’ll put in a note about you texting me when you get an extra shift that has you out past curfew. The HR department agreed to fax me the timecards weekly. Did you remember to bring a pay stub?”

  “Yeah.” He actually had two. Caleb had printed him one on company letterhead and provided a signed time card. Logan had been impressed by how professional it looked. He frowned. The form Dabb gave him only had space for one job. “Where should I put Caleb’s info?”

  A look that made Logan’s gut clench passed over Dabb’s features. Why would mentioning Caleb create a flash of irritation in Dabb’s eyes? He looked away from Logan and said, “Fill out the rest of the form for now.”

  Logan concentrated on the report, trying not to panic. He filled in the information about the AA meetings and the anger management classes he’d attended and verified he had paid the supervision fees to the court. After signing his name and dating the form, he handed the clipboard back to Dabb.

  His PO pulled out a notebook and flipped to several pages in. “According to Mr. Klass, you’re responsible for retrieving Caleb’s mail from the PO box, taking back any mailers, removing any refuse or recyclable material, and visually inspecting the apartment for hazards or potential problems.” He flipped to the next page. “He also requires you to spend ten minutes talking with his nephew and occasionally picking up Caleb’s grocery order.”

  Logan shifted in his seat. “That’s right.”

  Dabb put down the notebook and folded his hands across the desk. “Then you want to tell me why that took you sixty-three minutes on this past Monday?” His voice was calm, without a hint of anger, but his gray eyes bored into Logan. It was hard to pull off badass while surrounded by colorful plushy dolls, but Dabb made it look easy. “I want to know what other services,” he said, managing to make the word sound filthy, “he’s paying you to perform.”

  “You think I’m….” Logan laughed. The image of Klass in pimp gear flashed in his head, and he laughed harder. “Sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes.

  Dabb looked both relieved and annoyed. “I’ve known Har—uh, Mr. Klass a long time and he definitely got squirrelly when I asked him why he selected you for the job. I needed to be sure he wasn’t putting pressure on you.”

  “To fuck an incr
edibly hot guy?”

  Without missing a beat, Dabb said, “To prostitute yourself to avoid losing both jobs and put your probation in jeopardy.”

  “Klass ain’t pressuring me to do nothing!” Logan made a conscious effort to lower his voice. “You’ve met Caleb. Do you honestly believe he’d coerce a guy into having sex with him?”

  Dabb shook his head. “He’d only have to switch on the webcam and guys would be begging to come over and rock his world, but that doesn’t mean something isn’t going on. You need to talk to me, Logan,” he said, pulling off his glasses. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

  Logan scrubbed a hand over his face, not wanting to think about anybody else rocking Caleb’s world. “Klass wants Caleb to leave the apartment. He just has an ass-backward way of doing it. He hires guys he thinks Caleb will be attracted to and has them ask embarrassing questions. It’s like he’s trying to shame Caleb into leaving.” It wasn’t until he said the words that he realized how angry the idea made him.

  Dabb leaned back in his chair looking smug. “Then I take it Klass doesn’t know you’re gay.”

  With a jolt, Logan realized he’d been played. No way did Dabb think Klass hired pros for his nephew. He’d just wanted to provoke Logan into talking. Manipulative bastard. “I don’t deny it, but I don’t get asked often.”

  Dabb snorted. “I wasn’t looking forward to it myself. And you still haven’t answered my question.”

  “Mostly, Caleb cooks and we talk a bit. As far as I can see, Caleb don’t have many friends and I’m being overpaid. It’s only right I spend time with him and make sure he’s doing okay.”

  “So you’re doing it because you feel obligated? Or maybe sorry for him?”