Chasing the Moon

CHAPTER TWELVE

Back home (though she hesitated to call it that) she entered the building at the same time as the guy from Apartment Number Two. She was surprised to see his dog had allowed him outside. He carefully trod the steps while carrying two overflowing grocery bags.

“Hi,” she said. “Need some help?”

“If you’re offering.” He handed her one. It was full of canned goods and heavier than it looked.

“Want me to carry that for you?” asked Vom.

She decided letting a ravenous monster carry groceries was a bad idea and just soldiered on.

As they walked toward his apartment, she tried to think of something clever to say. Something witty. Something, at the very least, memorable.

“Getting kind of cold outside, huh?”

Chuck, his back to her, kept walking. “Beg your pardon?”

“Outside,ze="3">” she said. “Cold.”

“Didn’t notice,” he replied.

They climbed the short flight of stairs to the second floor. She screwed up her courage and tried again.

“A bit late for grocery shopping, isn’t it?”

“I don’t pick my schedule,” he replied. “Have to take my opportunities when I get them.”

At the top of the stairs, she noticed his monster hound was missing from its post at his apartment door.

“Where did it go?” She regretted asking it. She didn’t want to step into a sensitive area.

Chuck’s response was deadpan.

“Away. It does that sometimes.”

The door opened by itself as they approached. He went inside.

She paused on the threshold, waited a few moments for Chuck to reappear. He didn’t. She set the groceries down.

Vom inspected the contents of the bag. “Oh, is that salami?”

She glared with disapproval.

“All right, all right.” Vom and Smorgaz walked to her apartment just a few feet down the hall.

She glanced down the length of the hall. The dog was still not there.

Diana called into Chuck’s apartment. “Hello?”

He didn’t answer.

She grabbed the groceries but hesitated. Casually entering one apartment had gotten her into trouble recently. Perhaps she would be wise to think about it this time.

She scanned the room. Everything looked normal. The décor of the place was difficult to pin down. It was like a designer had cut it into zones, and each tiny zone had its own theme. The couch was from the sixties, bright orange and covered with fringe. The television was a wood-paneled monstrosity from the fifties. The coffee table was a thin, irregular piece of metal that must’ve been from the future because it floated without any means of support. The flooring was equal parts carpet and wood, broken into a checkerboard pattern.

It didn’t look dangerous. But her life was already weird now, and peril was something she was getting used to. She stepped into the apartment. A light, sticky sensation hit her face as she did so, as if she had walked into a spiderweb. Her first instinct was to brush it away, but there was nothing there.

The door started to swing shut behind her. Quietly. If it was hoping she wouldn’t notice, it was mistaken. She stopped it with her foot. She found a wedge of cheese in the bag and shoved it under the door. Then she followed the sounds of activity to join Chuck in his kitchen. It was bigger than the living room area. Much bigger. A window cast bright light into the room, but she couldn’t see anything outside but the brightness. His back was to her, and he must not have heard her.

“Where do you want this?” she asked.

He jumped, knocking the bag over. Several cans rolled across the counter and clattered on the floor. A can of peas rolled to her feet, and she ducked to pick it up.

“Sorry,” she said.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I just wanted to know where you wanted me to put this down.”

“No, not that. What are you doing in here?”

“Your door was open,” she said.

“It was?” He walked past her and checked for himself.

“I propped it open with your cheese,” she said. “I hope that’s okay.”

He glanced at her, then the door.

“It’s fine. I guess so, anyway.”

He smiled slightly and returned to putting away the groceries. She thought about helping but didn’t know where anything went. He was a good-looking guy. Better-looking than she’d assumed from her first impression. Tall, slim but athletic, closely cropped dark hair, and a lantern jaw that was almost cartoonish, but kept just on the right side of that line. He reminded her of Superman. Or his mild-mannered alter ego in a rather poor disguise. Although his eyes were brown. And his nose was a little big. And he had a bit of stubble on his chin. Still, a handsome guy, just her type. Although it was strange to think she had a type at all, since she’d never been romantically linked with a guy like this.

“I just moved in,” she said.

“My condolences.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad. The apartment is nice at least. Not sure how I feel about the monsters, but I’ve had worse roommates. How long have you been living here?”

Chuck, his back to her, crumpled his grocery bag.

“You should probably go.”

“Oh. Okay. Sorry.”

She exited the apartment. Chuck followed.

“Sorry to bother you,” she said.

He un-wedged the cheese from the door. “You aren’t bothering me. It’s just probably better if you aren’t here when he gets back.”

“He? Your dog, you mean.”

He nodded.

“You aren’t allowed visitors?”

He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. Don’t get many. Although Stacey and Peter drop by and bring me a baked good every so often.em"><

“Does everyone bake in this building?”

“Stacey turned me on to it. Helps to pass the time.”

Chuck smirked. It was a lopsided grin, charming in its imperfection.

“I’m thinking of picking up knitting,” she said. “Or maybe juggling.”

“Whatever works.”

They shared a chuckle that he cut short abruptly.

“He’s coming. You should go.”

“Okay. It was nice—”

He shut the door.

“—Meeting you.”

It was a stroke of cruel irony that she’d finally moved into an apartment across from a good-looking guy who liked to cook, and he was being held prisoner by an inter-dimensional beast hound. It wasn’t a problem. Not exactly. But it was irritating as hell.

She walked the few steps to her door. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that the dog was back at its post in front of Apartment Two.

“See you ’round, Chuck,” she muttered to herself before going inside to her own monsters.