24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Koa
Dustin has somehow convinced me to take him to a pet store while his mother and Annie pack up the rest of Sparkly’s.
The official closing day was a few days ago, leaving Evalina deep in her emotions.
I don’t blame her. There are a lot of memories in that building, many of which Dustin has told me about today.
I realize he’s so mature for a boy his age in many ways, but in others he still has that childlike curiosity, confusion, and innocence.
He is not, however, above conning me.
“I’m not sure. Are you positive your mother said you could get one?”
Telling this kid he could pick out anything he wanted as a fun end-of-the-school-year surprise is spectacularly backfiring on me. I’d anticipated something baseball related, maybe even a bike, but a hamster was not on my bingo card, especially not one so big.
“Mom said when we could afford one, we could get one.” He shrugs as if this somehow solidifies his argument. When I raise my eyebrows and look down at him, he adds, “I mean, I can pay for the food with my allowance. We just couldn’t afford the cage thingy.”
Ah yes, the cage thingy. And the bowls and water bottle, the exercise wheel, and other related toys to keep a rodent happy.
It’s not about the money, but a gut-deep feeling I’m being conned.
Dustin smiles—the big, toothy kind that is absolute confirmation that I am, in fact, about to do something he’s tricked me into doing. I’m gonna do it anyway.
“All right. Pick out the cage thingy and I’ll have the employee package this little guy up.”
“Mom says I can’t go in a different aisle from her.”
Right. I should know that.
“Okay then, let me get this thing reserved, then I’ll walk over with you.”
It takes ten minutes for Dustin to explain which of the hamsters he wants, for the employee to successfully extricate it from its friend group without getting bitten, and plop it in a box.
If this thing chews through the box and runs amuck in my car, I’m going to have a heart attack.
Dustin accepts his new friend with a smile and a sparkle in his eyes.
Down the accessory aisle we go, where I am convinced that the hamster was so cheap because all of the habitats and toys are ridiculously overpriced.
Too late now, since Dustin holds the hamster box as if it’s a trophy.
When I have been separated from more money than I anticipated for a pet rodent, the real struggle begins.
Fitting the box with the habitat and several bags into the back of my car wasn’t much trouble, but the hamster who chewed through his box certainly is.
“Koa, I think he escaped,” Dustin says calmly as you please.
“What?” I pause, staring out the windshield while we head down the main road toward Sparkly’s.
“The box has a hole in it.” Dustin holds it up and peers inside. “He’s not in here.”
“I hope you’re kidding.” I flip the turn signal and pray he’s joking.
I glance down at the brake before I start to slow down, ensuring I’m not about to squish his new pet.
All clear, so I calmly—calmly—turn into the nearest gas station.
“All right kid, find that rodent and I’ll set up the cage so he doesn’t escape again.
Somehow, I manage to erect a wire cage in the back seat of my car while Dustin searches.
I’m positive he won’t escape this Alcatraz of cages, but I have yet to hear Dustin yell got him!
I’m about to turn back around to help him search, preferably without opening any doors so I’m not chasing it down the road.
“Don’t sit!” Dustin screams and lunges into the driver’s seat.
I arch my back and contort myself every which way to avoid sitting on the hamster, in which I am successful, but the hamster screeches anyway and leaps away from Dustin and onto me.
It clings to my shirt with little hamster claws and climbs up to my shoulder.
I’m smacked in the nose as Dustin works diligently to capture his pet.
Biting back the sting, my attention shifts back to the unruly rodent that runs down my chest and digs into the flesh of my thigh.
Once again, I grit my teeth and try to scoop him up.
He’s fast and leaps across the console toward Dustin.
Those little claws are going to hurt him, so I snatch the fuzzball in midair. Thank goodness for baseball skills.
It bites me.
Repeatedly.
Until Dustin manages to get the cage door open wide enough for me to shove the hamster and both hands through.
“As soon as I let go, slam the door shut!”
I let go of the hamster, and he slams the door shut…on my thumb. Stifling a yelp, I yank my thumb free and latch the door, all while the hamster screeches and scolds us for existing in the same world as him. I can’t help wondering if we purchased the worst pet on the planet, but it’s too late now.
“I’m going to call him Tornado,” Dustin says.
All I can do is stare at the boy, because yes, the thing is like a tornado, but also, I’m bleeding and he’s worried about naming this little beast. Thank goodness we’re not far from the bakery where I can clean up these wounds that will likely give me some kind of fatal infection.
Once the drama settles, we make our way to the empty lot. Every other business has already vacated, leaving Sparkly’s as the last sliver of humanity left on the street. Everything else is modern and harsh. Nothing like what Savannah should be.
Inside, Annie and Evalina are finishing up the last few boxes.
“I am here to do the heavy lifting,” I announce when we enter.
Annie rolls her eyes, but Evalina’s eyes are locked on the beast in the cage that fills Dustin’s arms.
“Mom, look what Koa got me! His name is Tornado!”
Evalina looks at me, glances back to Tornado, then back to me. “At any point did you think you should ask me before bringing a large rodent into my home?”
Dustin runs off, leaving me to face his mother alone.
This kid.
“Dustin said you told him he could get a hamster when you could afford one. I’ve got enough junk in my car to care for this thing for a year.”
Evalina looks down at Tornado, who looks back up at her. “Hamster? Is…is that what you think this is?” She points at the cage with a smirk.
The furball pees in the cage, which I forgot to put paper in, and looks at me as if I am his personal servant there to clean up after him. He’s small, furry, has beady little eyes…looks like a hamster to me.
“Yes?”
“Koa, this is a guinea pig. It’s, like, ten times bigger than a hamster, hence the massive cage.”
“What? No, the employee even gave me instructions on care. Look.” I hand her the little red envelope titled How to Care for Your New Pet.
Evalina rolls her eyes and opens the envelope, hands me the contents, and giggles. “How to Care for Your New Pet…Guinea Pig.”
“Oh, sorry, but I mean, how long can it possibly live? Like two years? It’s a rodent.”
“Try five to eight, so you just slapped me with weekly cage cleaning for five to eight years. I thought you liked me.” She puckers her lower lip out.
I’ve never wanted to kiss her more than I do right now.
Weeks ago, she might have thrown this hamster—I mean, guinea pig—at me, but now she’s flirting.
I throw caution to the wind, lean in, see if she’ll bite and let me kiss her. She offers a smile, then her face contorts and her mouth falls open. “What happened to you? You’re bleeding!”
Oh, yes I am, all over the counter. “It escaped in the car and bit me several times during the capture,” I admit. “How can little rodent bites bleed this much?”
“A little blood goes a long way. Here, put your hands under the cold water and I’ll get some bandages.” She glances over her shoulder. “And since it’s a biter, you can come to my apartment every week and clean the cage or it’s coming to live with you.”
Hours later, Evalina and I sit alone on the counter of her former bakery. Annie took Dustin and Tornado back to the apartment and left us to load the moving truck with the last of her property.
“I have no idea what I’m going to do with all those books. Donate them to the library, I guess.” She leans against the display case, exhausted.
“I have a game tomorrow night, but I can take them to the library for you in the morning if you want.”
“That would be helpful, thank you.” Evalina groans and slips off the counter. “I guess it’s time to go. I have a call with Layne tomorrow about the food truck design, and I want to be well-rested for those sorts of decisions.”
“Fair enough.” I hop off the counter and follow her through the kitchen to the back door. Everything is clean, though it doesn’t have to be. Demo is set for one week from now, but Evalina lovingly cleaned every corner, tile, and surface in her shop.
Her eyes scan her former kitchen one last time, her hand hovering over the light switch.
She closes her eyes and tears slip free, dribbling down her face until she bites back a sob.
It hurts to see her in pain, especially when there is nothing I can do about it.
All I can do is press a hand to her back, support her, be present.
“I’m sorry. You must think I’m ungrateful after everything you’ve done to keep me on my feet.” She sniffles and wipes her eyes.
“Of course not. The food truck will be great, but it doesn’t have the memories this place has.
” I’d offer to buy her any building she wants to run Sparkly’s, but the truth is the truth—it’s not the business, but the building.
The memories Dustin has of this place are only part of the story.
She has her own, and one zoning committee stole it all from her.
“I know I’ll make more memories with this new venture.” She stiffens her frame, puts on that determined face I saw the first day we argued. She’s not going to let this be the end of her story, but it is the end of a chapter.
“You will. We will, if you want me to be a part of it.”
Evalina’s teary eyes peer up at me and she smiles. “I know.”
She turns off the light, ending one part of her life and, prayerfully, opening it to another.