The Ancient Evil Versus The Good Boy by Zachary Finn

Author:Zachary Finn [Finn, Zachary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vulpine Press
Published: 2021-06-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

I’ll spare you all the gritty details of mine and Chuck’s conversation, but I’ll let you know this much: I never cleaned a pool for him; I had a free pass to have as many animals as I’d like on his properties; and I got a new regulation lock installed the next day from an actual contracting company. All in all, I made out like a bandit for the impromptu sparring session with the burglar.

The rest of that weekend went on without a hitch. The day after my parents visited, Desmond and I drove out of the city to go on a hike. We spent the day parading around the woods without a care in the world. I also got an email back from Christina confirming our plans to meet up at Java’s. Life was going pretty swell all things considered.

Of course, the other shoe was about to drop as it normally does when things start to look up. This specific shoe fell on Monday when I returned to work.

“Rick, you look like sh–you look tired. Everything alright?” I had asked as I strolled into the break room.

Rick was sitting with his head buried into his bony folded arms. He was wearing a flannel, which wouldn’t have drawn my attention had it not been the dead of summer in a museum with no air conditioning. Even with his head tucked away it was evident he was feeling sick, and his ears were a flushed molten red.

“Just not feeling great,” he mumbled, and he burrowed his head further into his curled arms.

“Why don’t you take off, I’m sure me and Samantha—”

“She called in. Sick as a dog too. It’s just me and you, and I don’t think I’m going to be much help today. I think you’re on your own for tours. Sorry man.”

“Not a problem.” I shrugged.

Truth be told, I preferred giving tours over office work any day of the week. It makes the time go by quicker; and besides, it’s a nice reminder that I work in a museum. Sometimes when I’m stuffing away invoices and order forms into the crap-brown filing cabinet in my tiny office, it’s easy to forget what a cool place I work at, but when I’m guiding tours, it’s hard not to find myself in awe of the museum and all the curiosities within.

“Feel better man,” I said quietly. I grabbed my coffee and went to drop off my backpack in my office. Behind me I could hear Rick make a pained grunt that sounded like a thank you…I think. It was hard to tell.

When I got to my office, I could already hear a group of visitors murmuring in awe as they explored the displays in the waiting area. The intercom line on my phone lit up before I even had time to check my email. It was the volunteer—which one in particular I couldn’t tell over the cackling intercom—at the desk who informed me of the group’s arrival. I quickly threw on my nametag, grabbed my walkie-talkie, and made my way to the waiting area.

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