Chapter Two
“That was a close call, Marty, old man. Those camera lights coming on was a shit-yourself moment, for sure. You need to take more care.”
Marty was used to talking to himself and could agree with the statement. “But I got strawberries.” He was used to arguing with himself as well. Sometimes he thought the other side of the argument was his grumpy responsible self, whereas he tended to live on the wild side. “I mean who grows strawberries in the middle of winter? Even in a hot house, that’s wild. I’m sure that garden is magical, absolutely magical.” He made a kissing noise with his lips, his mouth already salivating at the thought of sampling that juicy sweetness.
His responsible side didn’t reply, so Marty knew he was right. Of course, you’re right. You’re both sides of the argument. His raccoon didn’t always understand the way Marty’s mind worked, but that was okay, too. Not many people did, which was why Marty was camping out at the back of a huge house that had been empty for months.
Walking through the trees at night wasn’t an issue – his raccoon was really useful in that regard. Marty hummed quietly, making sure to move silently but quickly. One of the reasons Marty liked the little corner of the world he’d found was because most of the houses were lived in by people who paid so little attention to what went on outside of their houses. Or the houses were empty and appeared to have been for ages. And yet they have such amazing gardens. For Marty, it was like wandering around his own personal supermarket filled with his favorite goodies.
He smiled as he reached his little encampment. It was tucked between three older trees that had sturdy trunks. Depending on which way the wind was blowing, Marty could usually be sheltered from the worst of it. He’d fashioned a small shelter out of branches. There was just enough room for him to curl up underneath it when he was sleeping. No one would consider it grand or particularly sturdy, but it kept most of the rain and snow off him. Mostly.
Marty’s prized possession was still warm. He hurried over, setting his supplies down on the plank he used for a plate, holding one hand and then the other as close to the large cauldron as he dared, while he grabbed his hoodie and pants and pulled them on, slipping on his worn sneakers. His little butt was going numb.
Marty didn’t use the cauldron to cook in, he used it to keep his fire contained and hidden. It wasn’t easy starting a fire without a match or a lighter, but when he did get one started, the trees around his tiny encampment provided plenty of fuel to keep one going.
“Ooh, I am doubly blessed this fine night.” Marty shivered happily as he dropped a few more twigs into his fire, before brushing off a few flakes of snow from the log round he’d rolled over to his spot from a neighboring yard and sitting on it. He reached down, picked up one of the six strawberries he’d scored for the night, bit into it and stared up at the beauty that was the night sky.
These strawberries are worth almost getting my ass caught, Marty thought happily. He was nearly always happy. He fixed his eyes on a glistening star. “You don’t blame me, right?” He held up his half-eaten strawberry. “This poor thing was saved. Some of his kin were rotting on the strawberry beds. Rotting. Such a waste.” Marty didn’t like waste of any kind. He quickly popped the second half of the strawberry in his mouth, savoring the sweetness.
The issue, Marty decided, was that he had needed thumbs to open the door to the hot house. His raccoon was very clever and had crazy flexible little paws, but there was something about that darn door that his animal side couldn’t open. Marty had been watching those strawberries blossom and grow for weeks.
He always visited private gardens in his animal form. Most security cameras didn’t pick up on animals, so he could wander around to his little heart’s content. The garden attached to his current abode was his best place for staying by far. Marty had no idea how the house owner did it, but the garden never had any weeds, and the plants all grew straight and beautiful.
“It’s magic.” Marty was determined it had to be. He had no idea what type of magic, but there were little things he noticed on his nightly forays for food that weren’t common in places he’d camped at before.
“Did you know,” he told the star as he reached for another strawberry. “There’s no bird poop on the walls of that house, not a speck of dust on the windows, no spiders’ webs around the door frames. In case you didn’t know, that’s not natural.”
Although, chewing on his strawberry, Marty thought about the slight buzz he felt anytime he got close to the walls of the house. I like it, his raccoon said quickly, and he did. Marty liked it, too, because it made his fur stand up from his body, which was kinda fun. He wasn’t as sure why his raccoon liked rubbing against the walls of the house – sometimes a full body rub – but Marty was a go-with-the-flow type of shifter.
“You have to wonder what type of person would ward their house against spider webs.” Marty thought as he chewed, imagining a handsome man with a loving wife who spent so much time looking after their three picture-perfect children that her husband set up wards, so she didn’t have to damage her beautifully soft hands by wielding a broom, fighting the spider war.
Marty knew a lot about spiders. He had one living in the corner of his shelter. In his head, they’d come to an agreement – the spider wouldn’t spread their web too close to where Marty slept, and Marty would share his space.
Sighing, Marty quickly worked his way through the last of his strawberries. Six pieces of fruit weren’t going to keep his stomach happy for long, but in the cold, he took what he could get. Tomorrow, we will stay away from the strawberries so we can eat other things. A good idea in theory, but Marty wouldn’t hold himself to it.
He did miss sharing his space with someone else. Marty glanced over the second log sitting on the other side of his cauldron fire. I was clearly feeling optimistic when I dragged that there. But Marty knew if he had anyone in his space, the moment they had a conversation, that person would realize Marty saw things in a unique way… and they would leave me.
“No point in thinking about that now.” Marty stood up, dusting off the few flecks of snow from his pants. It was definitely chilly, and while his temperature typically ran warmer than most, he was feeling it in his hands and toes. “Let’s stock up the fire and then shift to sleep, I think. That blanket of mine is getting a little thin. But it works, and that’s the main thing. Who knows what impossible things might happen when I wake up. The opportunities are endless.”
Five minutes later, with the cauldron fire quietly feeding on a wider log, and Marty’s threadbare clothes folded and put into a plastic bag to stop them getting damp, Marty shifted, and his raccoon spent a bit of time sniffing the blanket before curling up to sleep. Maybe tomorrow will be the day the Fates send someone who is as much of a misfit as me. Then we can be misfits together. The raccoon was smiling as he closed his eyes against the snow.