Finders Keepers

by N. R. Walker

  He leapt onto the floor, stretched, and shook himself out, then walked over to the door.

  “Okay then, point taken,” I said, rolling off the couch and letting him outside. He trotted down the stairs and I followed. He was happy to sniff and explore the yard and garden beds, and I was happy to just watch. There was probably an hour of daylight left, and there was a golden sheen to everything the sun touched. Bugs flittered across the top of the garden. The air was still warm.

  It was kind of perfect.

  “Tomorrow’s our last day of freedom,” I told Wicket. “What are we gonna do?”

  “Get yourself checked for speaking to animals,” Bernice said behind me. “Well, speaking to ’em’s okay, but asking questions and expecting replies is where it gets shady.”

  I chuckled, and when I turned, I realised she wasn’t alone. She was sitting at her patio table in the shade, beer bottle in her hand. The man who was with her looked to be in his sixties, or thereabouts. He had long grey hair pulled back into a ponytail and a silver goatee, and he wore old, faded board shorts and a T-shirt he either bought from a vintage retro shop or got brand new from a surf shop thirty years ago. Either way, it was cool. He nodded slowly and smiled.

  “Oh, hi,” I said, walking over to introduce myself. I offered my hand and he shook it. “I’m Griffin Burke.”

  His handshake was strong and calloused, his smile wide. “Kirk. I hear you’ve moved in upstairs.”

  “Yep. And Bernice has very kindly let me keep this little guy.” I motioned to Wicket, who was now nose down, tail up in her flower garden. “Until I found his owner. Which I did today, actually.”

  “Oh, you did?” Bernice asked. Her eyes looked weird. “Are they coming to get him?”

  “Not for another few days, if that’s okay. The guy who owns him is from Maroochydore, but he’s at a work conference on the Gold Coast. His parents live in Caloundra, which is where Wicket escaped from.”

  We chatted about that for a while, making small talk about how dogs and cats have been known to travel all over the country looking for their owners.

  “Pull up a seat,” Kirk said, pushing a patio chair out from the table with his foot. I sat down as Kirk stood up, ducking back inside. He called out, “Who wants a beer?”

  Bernice inspected her bottle like it was taking her a while to process his question or wondering why she was holding it. “Yeah, why not. Don’t normally have two, but it’s a nice afternoon.” Then she looked at me expectantly.

  I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  It was then I noticed an ashtray on the table and the butted-out remains of what looked like a joint. Well, that explained the mellow smiles and slow blinks. They were both stoned.

  Kirk handed me a beer, which I cracked and took a swig from to hide my smile. They were both grey-haired hippy stoners.

  “So,” Kirk said, sitting back down at the table. “What brings you to Coolum?”

  “Work. I start at the Emporium day after tomorrow.”

  “Ah, so that’s what you meant by last day of freedom.”

  “Yep.”

  “What will you be doing there?” he asked.

  “Front reception. I’m the ever-professional smiling guy who checks you in. I just don’t look it right now.” I gestured to my scruffy three-day growth, messy hair, and casual shirt and shorts. “If you saw me dressed for work, you probably wouldn’t recognise me.”

  “Ah.” he nodded wisely. “Me too. Looking at me, you wouldn’t think I was an ex-surfer dude who ran his own bazaar shop that sells imported Balinese furniture, tie-dyed clothes, and incense.”

  I snorted my beer because that was exactly what he looked like. My reaction was obviously what he was going for because he grinned and leaned back in his chair, relaxed. Well, stoned.

  “So, tell me,” Bernice said, pointing her beer bottle at me. “Family, yes, no? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

  God, if this was a quiz show where pensioners passed around a blunt and interrogated people, I was in the hot seat.

  Well, here went nothing. “Family, yes. Mum, Dad, one older sister—she’s married with two rug rats. Girlfriend? Never. Boyfriend… not at the moment. Unfortunately.”

  Bernice and Kirk didn’t seem the kind to judge anyone for being different, and thankfully they didn’t react at all. Bernice took a sip of her beer. “Good, good. Shame you didn’t get that removalist’s number. The one with the hot arse.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, shame.”

  “You know,” Kirk said, pulling on his goatee. “Young Jamie at my shop, I could ask him if he’s free next week. Nice boy.”

  I almost choked on my beer. “Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

  Bernice squinted at him. “Which one’s Jamie?”

  Kirk motioned toward the top of his head. “You know. Dreadlocks. Vegan. The one who knows where the best weed is coming from.”

  “Ah.” She nodded slowly, then looked around her garden like she was seeing it for the first time. “Jesus, K. Where the fuck did you get this shit from?”

  He chuckled. “Buderim. It’s good, huh?”

  She squinted at him again. “I’m fucking baked.”

  I chuckled again and took another mouthful of beer.

  Bernice grinned at me. “I like you, kid.”

  “Uh, thanks. I like you too.” I finished my beer and stood up. “I’ll do the lawns tomorrow morning.”

  Bernice made a face. “God. Not too early.”

  I snorted. “No. Not too early. Thank you for the beer. Kirk, it was nice to meet you.”

  He held out his hand, which I shook. “Call me K, kid. Most folks do.”

  “Okay…, K. Uh, thanks again. If you need anything, I’ll just be upstairs. Give me a holler.”

  They both nodded and waved me off. I called Wicket over and we went upstairs where I started to think about dinner. After a long day of sun and walking, I didn’t feel much like cooking. I felt like pizza and had an idea. I walked out on the balcony and leaned over. “Hey, I’m gonna order a pizza. Want one?”

  Both Bernice and K looked up at me with their reddened eyes and lazy smiles. “Hell yes,” K said.

  Bernice then looked at K. “Told ya I liked him.”

  An hour later, pizzas delivered and demolished, I was back upstairs in my flat. Wicket was fed and dozing happily on his spot on the sofa, and I’d just grabbed a bottle of water from my fridge when my phone buzzed.

  I’d left it on the coffee table all afternoon, and when I picked it up, I realised I had two missed calls and five text messages. The first voice message was from Nick. “Hey. How’re you settling in? Loved the pic from your hike. You look happy, and I’m glad. The guys said to say hi. Call me sometime.”

  Yes, he was my ex-boyfriend, but he was still a good friend. His message made me smile. I’d call him back tomorrow sometime.

  The next voice message was from Mum. “Hey, love. Let us know how you’re going. Love you.”

  Yeah, I’d have to call her back tonight.

  The first text was from Amber, my sister. Just a quick hello. Hope you’re settling in. The kids miss their Uncle Griff. Let us know when we can visit ;)

  The next was from my dad. Do you start work tomorrow? Or the day after? Just wanted to wish you good luck. And call your mother so she’ll stop worrying.

  The next three were from Dane.

  Finished the course for the day. Just wanted to say thanks again for picking Wicket up and taking such good care of him. I really appreciate it. Your adventures looked fun—better than where I was, that’s for sure.

  Then another one sent an hour after his first. Oh, forgot to tell you that he can’t have liver treats. Well, he can have them, but you’ll be scrubbing carpets afterwards. If you know what I mean. There was a poop emoticon and a crying face.

  Then his last text, which I’d just got. Sent two hours after his second text. Hope everything’s okay. I’m not weird, I promise. I’m just worried and I miss him. Thanks.

 
I smiled at my phone.

  I took a quick photo of Wicket, asleep on my sofa, and sent it to Dane. The text bubble appeared to tell me he was replying and I waited for what felt like ages.

  Cheeky little bugger. He’s so cute though. Thank you.

  I was just going to text him back, but maybe the second beer K had given me with our pizza went to my head. I eyed his number for a long second and called him instead. He answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Hi,” I replied. I sat down next to Wicket. “Thought it’d be easier if I just called.” Then I had the horrifying realisation that I was probably interrupting something. “Is that okay? Shit, everything’s fine, I promise. It’s Griffin, by the way.”

  He chuckled in my ear. “No, it’s fine. I’m alone in my hotel room watching crap on TV.”

  “Oh, thank God. I mean, not that you’re alone. Unless you want to be.” I closed my eyes slowly, mortified at the stupid that fell out of my mouth. And kept on falling, apparently. “I mean, not that that’s any of my business. I just wanted to let you know that Wicket’s fine and I didn’t think you were a weirdo for texting me. Even though you’re probably now wondering the same about me. I didn’t mean to worry you; we were just downstairs having pizza with my landlady. I forgot my phone.”

  He was quiet a second, then barked out a laugh. “I didn’t think you were a weirdo.”

  “Until now, right?”

  He chuckled this time. “It’s fine. I reckoned you might have thought three text messages were a bit excessive. I was going to send another one to apologise, but then that would have been four.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded. You miss him, I get that.”

  He sighed. “I do. I was worried something had happened to him.”

  “Something did. Some awesome guy found him and they’ve been having adventures every day. Which is probably why he’s zonked out already even after we had a nap this afternoon.”

  “We?” he asked. “You had a nap with Wicket?”

  He sounded amused, and I figured he already thought I was a weirdo. “Well yeah, kinda. He plopped himself onto my couch and did that cute little snoring thing, and I thought, ‘you know what? That’s not a bad idea.’”

  Dane laughed. “That cute little snoring thing… I never thought I’d miss his snoring.”

  “I can record it for you, if you like,” I offered, half joking. “He’s right beside me, snoring as we speak. Here, listen.” I put the phone near Wicket’s face so Dane could hear it. When I put the phone back to my ear, there was silence and I’d wondered if the call had been disconnected.

  Then he said, his voice quiet, “Thank you.”

  “That’s okay,” I offered. “He really is fine. I’ll send you more photos tomorrow. Not sure what we’re doing yet, but it’ll be something fun.”

  “I’m jealous.”

  “What? The course you doing not as fun as going to the beach or hiking through the rainforest? Or milkshakes and puppacinos at Noosa?”

  “Not even close,” he replied. “Did you get him a puppacino?”

  I snorted. “Of course I did. He had to have something to wash his bone cookie down with.” Again, silence, and I thought maybe I’d crossed a line. “It’s just froth. It won’t hurt him.”

  “Oh no, that’s fine. I just can’t believe you did that.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Just so you know, I spoil my niece and nephew like that too. Drives my sister up the wall, but whatever. I won’t get the coolest uncle award by saying no to sugar, will I?”

  Now he laughed. “How old are they? Your niece and nephew.”

  “Three and four. Lane is three, and she’s a firecracker, and Bristol’s four. He’s into dinosaurs at the moment.”

  “There’s a shop in the plaza where I work that has a bunch of dinosaur figures,” he said. “They look kinda cool.”

  “Which plaza is that?”

  “Maroochydore Palms.”

  “Oh, thanks. I’ll check it out.” Then I thought about that. “I thought you did some corporate job to be away at a week-long work conference.”

  He made a sound that sounded like a muffled groan. “Well, not really. I’m the store manager of the Telstra shop.”

  It was weird. He said it as if he was waiting for some snarky reply.

  “Cool,” I said. “That’s pretty impressive.”

  Again with the hesitation. “Really?”

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Well, when I tell people I work for Telstra, most people either bitch at me for the cost of their phone bills or because their internet crapped out on them.”

  “But that’s not your fault.”

  He laughed. “Oh my God. You’re the sanest person I’ve ever spoken to.”

  I snorted at that. “Well, I work front of house for a five-star resort. Well, I used to, in Brisbane. I start my new job day after tomorrow, doing the same thing but a bit higher up. And I can tell you, when people are paying big dollars, that comes with big expectations. And rightly so. But when things go wrong, as they sometimes do, they want someone to blame. It’s not personally my fault that they expected the room service menu to be free, but it’s my job to resolve any issues. I need to make the customer happy while keeping the integrity of the hotel in check. Still doesn’t mean they’re gonna get free room service.”

  Dane laughed again. “I should totally use that tomorrow in our Customer Service Resolution segment.”

  “By all means, feel free.”

  “Do people really expect room service to be included?”

  I scoffed. “You work in customer service, right?”

  “Point taken.”

  I found myself smiling. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is.” It sounded like he changed which ear he had his phone pressed to. “So, your new job is a promotion?” he asked. “It’s just… you said it was a step up.”

  “Yeah. It’ll be a bit of a challenge, but I’m looking forward to it. And plus, in my time off I get to hang out at the beach and go hiking. I might even learn how to surf.”

  “You like the outdoors. I mean, from your adventures with Wicket, you’re the adventurous type. Most people plant their arse in front of the TV.”

  “Well, I do my fair share of arse-planting.” I froze, then panicked. “Um, that kind of sounded wrong.”

  Dane barked out a laugh so loud Wicket woke up and looked around the room.

  “Hey,” I said before Dane could reply about my arse-planting comment. “Wicket heard your laugh. I think he’s looking for you. Say his name, talk to him and I’ll put the phone near his ear.”

  I put my phone near Wicket’s little face and I could hear the tinny mumble of Dane saying something, but I couldn’t work out the words exactly. Wicket cocked his head to the side, his ears perked up, and his eyes went wide. “He’s listening!” I said, hoping Dane would hear me.

  When Wicket tried to lick my phone, I pulled it back and put it to my ear. Then I heard what Dane was saying. “…just hold on, little buddy, I’ll come and get you soon. I know you’re probably having fun and I hope he’s looking after you okay. I miss you and Grandma was really sad you ran away.”

  It was so damn sweet. He used a cutesy voice to talk to him, and I had to wonder just who this Dane guy really was. It was pretty obvious we could talk without effort, and we seemed to have a lot in common… except I had no clue if he was gay or bi, or remotely interested, or even single. And as he spoke to his dog over the phone, I felt like I was intruding, and my heart squeezed because Dane was obviously missing his dog. Then I felt guilty for smiling at the cuteness because, at the end of the day, Dane was sad and there was nothing cute about that.

  “He tried to lick my phone,” I said quietly. “But he definitely heard you. He was looking at the phone, doing that cute head-tilt thing.”

  Dane sighed. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Well, I better let you go,” I said. “I don’t know what adventures we’re going on
tomorrow yet, but I’ll be sure to send photos.”

  “Yeah, that’d be great.” It sounded like he was smiling now.

  “Okay, well, have fun at your boring customer service complaint course tomorrow.”

  He groaned. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. But if Wicket demands another trip to a café and orders a puppacino, keep a tab for me so I can pay you back.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s totally his idea.”

  He was quiet for a second. “Night.”

  “Goodnight.”

  I hit End Call and slid my phone into my pocket. I hadn’t realised it had gotten so late. I guessed we talked longer than I thought. It was weird though. I was left with an unsettled feeling; one I couldn’t quite identify. This guy, that I didn’t even know, felt like shit because I had his dog. I mean, I rescued his dog and he was grateful, but he missed him nonetheless. And I liked that we could chat so easily. Even if he wasn’t inclined to be interested, maybe we could still be friends. I needed to make new friends here, and Dane seemed like a good place to start. I mean, it wasn’t as if I could ask him if he was straight without sounding like a creep.

  Wicket was sitting up on the sofa beside me now, and when I pulled out my phone, he stood up and peered at it, probably trying to see if he could hear Dane’s voice again. I snapped a quick photo and sent it to Dane, adding, Wicket says goodnight.

  His reply came through a few minutes later. Night, little buddy.

  Oh, the little buddy part made my heart sink and fly at the same time. I was getting a little too invested, too soon. Okay, so maybe I couldn’t ask him outright if he was interested, but I could ask him what the bar scene was like or mention Grindr or the word ‘ex-boyfriend’ in passing, or maybe I could just man the fuck up and tell him I was gay and see what his reaction was.

  Yeah, I thought sarcastically. Because that’s always ended well.

  Chapter Four

  Dane

  * * *

  The photo of Wicket on Griffin’s sofa kind of hurt to see, I couldn’t lie. There he was, so far away from me, with someone else. And it was stupid, really, but I felt like a dad whose kid had gone to school on the first day and I was left behind while they were being all grown-up.