27 – Fireflies

Troy pulled up short at the end of the trail, taking a moment to evaluate what he was seeing. It was a residential subdivision on the other side of the forest, and he’d been dumped out into a yard in front of an apartment building. Top and bottom apartments all had balconies that faced the forest, and the second floor porch on the far right was the one that interested him the most. That was where the scent of his female came from.

The sliding-glass door to her porch was partially open, but the drapes were pulled so he could not see inside. A breeze fluttered the drape enough that he could see light from under the bottom, and lights were on in the windows.

As he watched, a hand pulled the drapes back and his female came out onto the balcony, twice as lovely as the moon, four times as stunning as the stars.

He yearned for her, but she wouldn’t want to see him, but she would. As soon as she looked his way, she could not help but see him, even though it was dusk. He held perfectly still, drinking in her every feature and curve. She was wearing booty shorts that hugged her curves and showed off her legs, plus a simple purple shirt. Her hair was free and soft-looking, and her expression was unguarded.

“Wiz,” she called toward the forest, while slightly turned away from it, and while looking at the ground. Troy watched her closely, waiting for her to look up and see him, and her expression to go ice princess. She would not be happy to see him here. She might even call the cops.

But she never looked up. Sadness pulsed off her and Troy’s heart seized to think that he had been the cause of that sadness. She called the name a few more times, all without looking up, and then she went back inside, again leaving the door partially open, but the drapes completely closed.

Trevor, Troy said in ruhi. You need to send another guard to Remington’s place. I’m gone.

You were extra, Troy.

I scented fox in the forest. Not foxen, still better to be safe.

Got it. I don’t have anyone available right now, I’ll head over myself. Where are you and when will you be back?

I’m nearby. I’ve got a female to woo.

You found her?

I did.

Ella broke in. Troy, ah, don’t use that word around her.

Woo? I think I already did.

Oh, ok, then.

Trevor again. Maybe Ella should come over.

But Troy knew different. I got this, he said. Troy out.

Troy turned off ruhi.

Troy checked his pockets for something to give her. He had a rubberband, a canadian nickel, and a sticker with a rose on it. Troy checked his brain for something to tell her. He had “you’re beautiful, you smell good, and you’re perfect,” and she hadn’t liked any of those when he’d said them the first time. He scanned the building, the yard, the forest. All he saw was wildflowers, and those were out.

A firefly blinked in front of his face. It flew a few inches away and blinked again, hovering there. Troy snatched it out of the air and blinked at it a few times, then scanned through the yard and the building again. There, on the porch of the apartment directly below his female’s apartment, was a clear glass cup.

Perfect.

***

Reed sat on her couch, too sad to even eat ice cream, trying to puzzle out her emotions, afraid she knew exactly what they meant. She’d gone to sleep feeling overwhelmed and still so angry at that guy, having no idea what she would do next, except for try to find a new job, but so far, she hadn’t even gone out to the box to get the newspaper and check the listings. She hadn’t gone online either. All she’d done was stare at the wall since she’d woken up in the middle of the night. It hadn’t been the nightmare, but a different dream, one of an angel carrying a fiery sword who had touched her belly once, and disappeared.

Reed didn’t have to have a degree in dream psychology to know the dream was telling her she’d better go get a stick to pee on, just to ease her own mind, but it was still too early, and none of that explained why she felt so sad. She’d been sad all day, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t be mad anymore. She’d not eaten breakfast sad, she’d stared at the wall sad, and she’d tried to take a nap sad, and here she was, ready to go to bed sad, still feeling like she’d lost her best friend.

If Wiz would come by, that would make her feel a lot better. He was old, he was kind of gimpy for a cat, and there was a good chance he wouldn’t live much longer. She didn’t want to just… never see him again and not know. She thought about the house a street down, wondering if she should go over there and just tell the truth. If he belonged to someone, maybe they would let her pet him, maybe they would show her that he was well taken care of.

She would go tomorrow, she decided. She stood and went to the balcony, just in case, pulling back the drape and stepping over the threshold. “Wiz,” she called, not looking at the forest. Her landlord was at work for a few more hours and wouldn’t hear her.

There was a cup on her balcony table that did not belong there, that she’d never seen before. Reed’s heart jumped in her chest, skipping a beat before settling into a new, faster rhythm. Reed pulled back into her apartment, ready to slam the door shut, but a quick glance at her porch told her there was no-one on it. There was not one hiding spot, unless someone had climbed the concrete divider between her and the next apartment and was waiting over there now, waiting for her to react. But why would a thief leave something?

Because he or she wasn’t a thief.

Reed stared, not blinking, trying not to look at the forest, listening hard, trying to hear any noises from nearby. Nothing. She settled for examining the cup. It was a glass cup rather like a mason jar, but with a handle on the side, and a piece of paper rubber-banded to the top. Twenty or more lightning bugs crawled on the glass walls inside, flashing their lights intermittently.

This was no thief. This was a stalker.

Reed pulled the door shut as quietly as she could. She locked it. She ran to the couch and snatched up her phone, shut off all the lights in her house, and ran to the window while dialing 9-1-1. Her finger hovered over the call button. She looked out the window, but not to the forest. What if she went blank, like she had been lately? If there really was a stalker out there, she might as well serve herself up with a bow wrapped around her fun parts.

Reed almost hit the button on her phone, but she held herself back. What was she going to say? There’s a cup with fireflies on my porch that wasn’t there ten minutes ago? She hadn’t even seen anyone skulking about, or heard a thump in the night.

Reed ran to her bedroom. There was a window back there, too, but when she got there, instead of looking out the window, she went to her vanity and picked up her lipstick, applying some and pressing her lips together. No point in dashing outside looking like a crazy person. If she was going to end up dead, at least she could leave a cute corpse. She ran a comb through her hair, imagining what her mother would say if she saw it all loose and wild like this.

Reed paced her bedroom, her phone gripped in her hand, thinking she should change her clothes. She got all the way to the closet before she realized what was going on.

Troy.

She thought it was Troy, and she was… primping for him! Reed swiped the back of her hand across her lips in a vicious little arc, calling herself crazy. She stuck her hands in her hair and messed it up. Then she stalked to the window. She didn’t see anything, so she headed for the door onto her porch, fuming.

Before she unlocked it, she texted Sage.

Hey, you around?

Yep

Do me a favor? Text me every 10 minutes and if I don’t answer, call the cops and tell them I’m being killed.

Tom?

You know it. He climbed my porch to leave fireflies on my table.

Aw, romantic. Give him a chance.

Sage. She put in five angry face emojis.

Got it. One eye roll emoji. I’m starting my timer now.

Reed pushed onto her porch, grabbed up the cup, popped the paper off of the top of it, balled it up and dropped it on the ground, then shook the fireflies out over her porch railing. She wanted to whip the glass cup into the forest but she held off. Kids played in that forest. She had played in that forest.

She slammed the cup back down on the railing, head down, ready to chance a look at the forest, at exactly where she knew Troy would be standing, watching her.

She knew it! He was there, a dark figure, leaning back against a tree, arms crossed, his posture sad, almost slumped, still sexy, even from a distance, even in the near-dark, even when he was sad and even when he was creeping her out. It almost made her mad, how sexy she found him.

“Hey creeper,” she called. “You might want to take off if you don’t want to lose your job, because otherwise, I’m getting a restraining order on you tomorrow.” Her voice cracked on the word, ‘tomorrow’. Her heart beat hard in her chest and her throat tried to close as the words echoed between them.

His shoulders slumped a little more, and she imagined she could see anguish in the shadows on his face. Not fear that he would lose his job, but anguish that he would never see her again.

She hardened her heart and went inside, slamming and locking the door.