Remain Alert by Kate Sheeran Swed

Author:Kate Sheeran Swed
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Spells & Spaceships Press

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The closest pet store opens at nine. The sky’s still dark, but we’re pretty sure the Well Dressed Man (a nickname that no longer fits now that I’ve seen his apartment) doesn’t care much about adhering to store hours.

Luckily, it’s close enough to walk.

It’s hard to believe the guy wouldn’t have dashed through the aisles to swipe what he needed as fast as possible before hightailing it to his apartment. But there’s a reason he hasn’t used the card yet; when Molly and I slip into the store, we find him in front of the parakeet cage, transfixed. He’s not as well dressed now, but at least he took a few minutes to pull a pair of jeans over his boxers.

All those fancy birds at home, and he’s staring at a bunch of budgies.

Not just staring. Cooing. They hop from perch to perch, oblivious, while the guy who stole my recovery card whispers to them like they’re his best buds.

“You take this end of the aisle,” Molly says. “I’ll sneak around the other side. Then we’ll have him surrounded.”

“Until he knocks me over with a budgie feather.”

I’m eighty-six after all, and I’ve been up all night riding buses and breaking into weirdo apartments. I’m not exactly primed for a fight scene.

“Got a better plan?”

“Shoot him.”

Molly rolls her eyes. I have provoked a sliver of annoyance. Finally. I didn’t think the woman had it in her. “All right,” I say, “but what am I supposed to do? Ask him nicely for the card back, pretty please?”

“Distract him,” she says. “I’ll handle the rest.”

I’m not convinced, but I don’t have a better plan—or any plan—so I follow hers.

When we’ve sneaked up close enough to hit him with a dog toy, I say, “Hey, you! Burglar!”

The Well Dressed Man startles. He’s been so focused on the parakeets that he genuinely didn’t see us enter, even though let’s be honest, we’re not exactly stealth material. For a moment, he just glares at me like I’ve interrupted a sacred moment.

“Finders keepers,” he says.

Molly’s bending to pick up a container of birdseed. She unscrews the top, slowly, and begins to peel the tinfoil lining.

Her plan is something weird, then. Great.

“Creative comeback,” I say to cover Molly’s rustling. “Stealing a recovery card from an old woman. You should be ashamed.”

He shrugs. “What do you need it for? You’re half dead.”

“You’re not wrong,” I tell him. “But I don’t like it when people take my things.”

The man pulls the card out of his pocket like a taunt. “Too late.”

Molly balances the birdseed in one hand and shimmies toward the parakeet cage like the world’s weirdest waitress. All of a sudden, I understand her plan.

“I’m going to call the cops, young man,” I say, taking a step back.

The man moves toward me, teeth bared.

It’s all the space Molly needs. She slides the cage door open, simultaneously dumping the birdseed on the Well Dressed Man’s head.

The parakeets pour out of the cage and descend upon the smorgasbord that is his head.

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