Chapter 14

It was a long day at Bob’s Pets. Mano didn’t talk about it, but David could feel him being smug about fucking Amanda six ways to Sunday. David also kept picturing Amanda in the maid costume he saw, and he spent an inordinate amount of time behind the counter trying not to let anyone see his excitement and feeling guilty that he was having such thoughts in the first place.

He also wasn’t quite sure if it was all his imagination or if some of it was Mano fucking with him for fun; he certainly didn’t remember having ever seen that one look on Amanda’s face, before. He cursed under his breath when he felt the strain on his pants, again.

David met Rodney at Blue Devil’s Cut after work. He needed a drink. A lot of drinks, actually. A whole shit ton of alcohol, considering his sore body and guilty conscience.

Maybe a fatal amount of alcohol, really.

Rodney was strangely quiet during their first few drinks. He seemed to be studying David carefully.

“So, this girl rang me, today.”

Ah, so Rodney wanted to gloat. David nodded and drank his beer, hoping this story didn’t involve copious amounts of his friend’s cock.

“Some chick named Cece, said she was at this club—“

David paused, beer in hand. Had Rodney mentioned clubbing before? It felt like there was something he was supposed to remember…

“Said she was trying to reach a ‘David.’”

David’s eyes went wide. Rodney had been watching for it and quickly caught David’s mug before it could fall to the floor. He placed it to the side of the table, giving David plenty of room to hang his head in his hands and look distressed.

Mano, what have you done? It was ONE NIGHT.

Mano shrugged. She asked for a phone number.

And you had to give her Rodney’s?

Should I have given her Amanda’s?

NO, you should have given her NO ONE’s.

I thought Rodney might appreciate it, seeing as you’re so unwilling to share your girlfriend with him.

David peered at Rodney through his fingers. His friend was leaning back in his chair, looking quite content.

He’s more amused than he looks.

He looks really damn amused, Mano.

I know.

David knew he was supposed to say something, but he didn’t know what. So instead, he groaned, sounding like a man who’d just been punched in the stomach. Pretty accurate, actually.

“So, how’s Amanda?” Rodney’s mouth was only curled in a slight smile, but his eyes were grinning.

“She’s fine,” David said, his voice more a moan than anything, while he continued to stare down at the table, his fingers lost in a tangle of hair.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not really, no.”

The table looked back at David dismally.

Why, Mano? WHY?

Partially because you were insulted when Rodney thought you couldn’t seduce the waitress. Mostly, I thought it would be entertaining.

Entertaining?! That’s what the fucking TV is for!

Television is for plebeians.

David squeezed his eyes shut. Wasn’t the thing with Amanda enough?

That was just to make me feel better. This was for your benefit.

Rodney crossed his arms, shaking his head in mock sadness. “Why would you give her your real name?”

David groaned. “I have no idea.”

Did you really have to do this?

You’ll get over it.

Rodney’s smile was sneaking through again. “Sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Fuck off, Rodney. Just… fuck off.”

Avoiding Rodney meant David no longer knew what the hell to do with his evenings. He knew he couldn’t avoid his friend forever, and maybe in three years—four tops—he’d be able to look Rodney in the eye again.

Okay, maybe five years.

It took Amanda a few days to recuperate from Mano’s night with her, but when she did she was more affectionate than ever. It worried David, partially because Mano’s debauchery might be psychologically damaging his girlfriend, and partially because he had no idea what Mano did or how to replicate it.

“If you want, I can take care of Amanda tonight.” Mano enjoyed riling David up to no end. “I promise to be gentler this time.”

David scowled. “Keep my cock out of your girlfriend! … Wait, I think I said that wrong.”

“Nope, you got it right.”

A week passed. David did fine at the store, dodged Amanda’s advances, and received a few text messages from Rodney telling him to “stop being a pussy.” He also avoided the topic of art and body switching with Mano.

On Wednesday, Mrs. Vincent showed up for an appointment David definitely didn’t make himself. Amanda was thrilled to find that David (but really Mano) was taking the initiative. Obviously, he was becoming more self-confident about his art.

David excused himself to grab his drawings.

Three?! There are only three drawings so far?!

“Art is suffering, David.”

David looked at the rabbit on the floor by his feet. “That expression does not apply to our situation!”

Mano didn’t say anything.

David hung his head in misery. “I feel like I’ve suffered enough for a hundred drawings.”

“Only because you make everything difficult. Just like you’re doing right now, so stop whinging and let me take over.”

“Go to hell. I can do this.”

“And when Mrs. Vincent asks you about your process, you’ll say… what? ‘I used what appears to be, uh, charcoal, I think. Or maybe it’s pencil. Could it be pencil? Well, it’s definitely on canvas.’” Mano’s impression of David was callous, malicious, and surprisingly accurate.

David let out a cry of defeat and let the rabbit take over.

Mano did his thing of being a charming, intelligent artist, absolutely nothing like the real David, and Amanda was so proud that he was able to rise to the occasion. If this were fiction she would have immediately realized her David was incapable of any of the qualities he was currently displaying, but this is real life, and in real life, people don’t rent out their bodies like cars.

Mano promised to have a full body of work to put on display in two months. He hoped that would spur David to stop fucking around with their time.

When Mrs. Vincent left, Amanda was so impressed with David, she couldn’t keep her hands off him. Mano helped her get too hot to be turned away, and then he let David have his body back.

See, I didn’t have sex with your girlfriend, just like you wanted.

It was true; it just wasn’t exactly what David meant when he said it. Mano was the rabbit, and yet David felt like the one caught in a trap.

“You promised what?!”

“You thought you could keep them waiting forever?”

“No.” Though, that wasn’t exactly true; David wasn’t good at thinking in terms of goals and deadlines.

“Don’t freak out,” Mano said. “All this means is that you can’t procrastinate constantly.”

“But that’s what I do!”

“Yes, and it’s gotten you far.”

David cried out in frustration. “You're fucking up my life!”

“What? You hate animals but work at a pet store, your girlfriend turned sex into a homework assignment, and even if you only drank half as much you'd still be killing more brain cells than you can spare. I couldn't fuck up your life any more if I tried.”

“If Amanda leaves me—”

“Then you’ll be able to find someone you’re compatible with.”

David’s frustration gave way to sulking. “You’d just ruin that, too.”

“Only if you gave me a reason to,” Mano said. “I wouldn’t have suggested borrowing your girlfriend if I thought you two had a future.”

“Borrowing?”

“I always give her back, don’t I?”

David felt sick to his stomach.

“I need a drink.”

“With Rodney?”

Now David felt even sicker.

He went to his closet, desperate to find the wooden box and remind himself that it could be worse. He was pretty sure being shot at was worse, anyway, though part of him was willing to find out first-hand.

He dug through the piles, shifting clothes from one pile to another in an attempt get through all his junk. He found the box with his father’s baseball cards, but baseball cards weren’t a visual reminder that life could be worse. They were just a visual reminder that bubble gum used to be more interesting.

“Amanda, have you seen my wooden box?” David called.

She walked into the bedroom and looked at him on his knees on the floor.

“The one you keep in your closet?

“Yeah.”

“It should be in your closet.”

He groaned. “I need to clean this damn thing out.”

“You shouldn’t distract yourself,” Amanda said. “You need to get to work on that promise you made to Mrs. Vincent.”

That’s right, David. Chop chop.

Mano was right; his promise to the gallery owner meant David had to either man up or give up completely, and if he went with the latter, he was pretty sure the look of disappointment on Amanda’s face would crush him.

David started going back to the bar on the evenings he got to keep his body. Rodney was nice enough not to bring up their last conversation, though David had a feeling it was constantly on his friend’s mind. Indeed, Rodney was damn curious what else David wasn’t telling him, but he knew better than to ask. Rodney also refrained from making any more lewd comments about Amanda; the jokes were only funny if the relationship was healthy.

Mano kept a cache of drawings and prepped canvases in the storage unit, and every so often, he’d spend an entire night drawing. Those were his least favorite nights, but they were unavoidable. It was better to give up one night for a load of free ones than to give up part of every night.

In some ways, David tried to throw himself into his work at Bob’s Pets to distract himself from whatever was going on in his life. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, he only knew that he woke up exhausted and that there were new drawings to show for it, and he didn’t want to think about what it was he didn’t know, so he stayed busy. The dog-like pets were getting a lot more time out of their cages, playing and taking walks, now that David was trying to avoid a complete mental breakdown.

As he was about to enter his apartment after an uneventful Wednesday at work, he reached into his back pocket and noticed something unusual. It felt like fabric, and he was surprised he hadn’t noticed it all day at work. Maybe he was doing too well at not paying attention to his own life.

He took the item out of his pocket and instinctively threw himself to the side of his unopened door like a secret agent trying to avoid being seen by the enemy.

Is this a lace thong in my pocket?!

Oops. I forgot that was there.

David had to resist the urge to violently separate the rabbit’s head from its body.

You are the worst pet I’ve ever had.

I’m the only pet you’ve ever had.

THATISNOTTHEPOINT!

David tried to regain his composure, out of breath even though he hadn’t actually said a word.

Okay, all right… What happened last night?

Well, I—

Now David was looking for the nearest trashcan.

You know what, never mind. I don’t want to know.

Why not?

Plausible deniability.

What, you think if you don’t know what happened, you can convince people your evil twin did it?

Isn’t that kind of what’s happening?

Only in the sense that you’re a complete idiot.

David felt bad for the newest animal to arrive at Bob’s Pets. It was a sad creature. Sad in a way that made you want to give it candy and take it to the park so it could feed the ducks, whatever you could to make it happy and take its mind off its life.

Well, taking it to the park to feed the ducks is a bad example, because the new animal was a duck-cat. It was a cat with a duck bill for its mouth and four duck legs with duck feet. It was the antithesis of grace. Rather than slinking, it waddled. Rather than pouncing, it kind of failed at jumping. Instead of jumping, it stayed grounded. David was also pretty sure it wouldn’t always land on its feet, either. Actually, he doubted it would ever land on its feet (literally and metaphorically), because if it had metaphorically landed on its feet, it would not be duck-cat. Nothing should ever be a duck-cat.

David decided to call it a Quat. The sound it made was sort of like a cross between a quack and a meow, which sounds less like an animal noise and more like a death rattle.

This creature seemed like a worse idea than any “beer idea” David ever had. He wondered what the scientists were thinking when they made this one. “The world needs more clumsy animals”? “How come the most water-loving creatures ever, cats, don’t have webbed feet”? The more likely reason was “Why not?” or possibly that reason that’s ruined so many lives (and is often used to justify beer ideas), “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

David couldn’t imagine being drunk enough for this to ever seem like a good idea.

He wasn’t sure what to do with the poor thing. When Kit arrived, he asked her, and she suggested a little blow-up pool type thing. David wasn’t sure if they made a pool big enough for the Quat but small enough to fit in the pet store, but he decided it couldn’t hurt to find out.

Turns out, there are inflatable pools for babies. He bought one, almost returned to Bob’s Pets, remembered the “inflatable” part, and bought a pump, too. The Quat seemed to like the pool a lot; it wasn’t tripping over its own feet when it was using them to move through water.

“It looks happy,” Kit said, smiling. “You think anyone will ever buy it?”

“I, er…”

“Yeah, me neither.”

It took longer than expected, but Amanda finally realized it was weird that she’d never seen David draw one of his charcoal pieces. When Mano noticed her thinking about it, he used his next evening as a human to stay home and draw. Because he was wasting an evening at the apartment, and because Mano didn’t want Amanda asking to watch him draw again in the future, he persuaded her to try something new during his break. Amanda worried her refusal would somehow hurt his art (creative-types are so sensitive), so she (reluctantly) gave in.

He smiled at the look on Amanda’s face as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to make a sound. The silence was almost better than the feeli—Well, okay, no, the silence wasn’t that good, but it was definitely nice. He made sure not to finish too quickly, otherwise she might forget the experience and ask him to stay home, again.

The next morning, the living room still had charcoals and pastels scattered about, and David thought Amanda was acting a little funny. Her smiles weren’t disingenuous, but they were a little awkward.

Having nothing to say, she of course opened her mouth and said something.

“Last night was… interesting,” Amanda said. She didn’t seem to know what else to say, so she gave a little smile and left to run her errands.

“Mano, what was she talking about?”

“Yesterday, I suggested we try something… unconventional.”

“Uncon…” It took David a minute. “Amanda doesn’t do that!”

“She did last night.”

“WHY?!”

“She was being a pain in my ass, so I—”

“That’s a terrible reason!”

Mano shrugged. “I’m sure she can use it in her writing.”

“You were done with Amanda!”

“She’s the one who wanted me to stay home. Besides, sometimes a guy doesn’t feel like putting in the extra effort when there’s an easy target just asking for it.”

David would have been annoyed that his girlfriend had just been referred to as a “target,” but his mind was already elsewhere. He chewed his lip a little and wrung his hands nervously.

“Do you think… do you think she’d be willing to do it again?”

Mano thought about it. “Maybe, but only if I do the talking. Getting her a little inebriated first wouldn’t hurt, either.”

“Buy her some wine, got it.”

“Why are we restocking this junk?”

“Because it’s what Selzer buys,” David said.

Kit removed the old bags of Bagged Bits (2.5% natural ingredients, fortified with 3 vitamins animals need) and replaced them with the new(er) bags David carried over.

“But if customers don’t buy it—“

“Hey, if you think you can convince Selzer, go for it. I used up my goodwill points when I convinced him to lower his prices.”

(It was less like convinced and more like bullied, but that wasn’t the point. Actually, that makes what he said doubly true.)

Kit seemed to be considering it. Her forehead wrinkled in concentration, and her lips were moving just enough to suggest she might be practicing what to say.

Suddenly, she seemed to be back in the room with David. “This stuff is terrible for the animals. It has all kinds of fillers in it. Look, they banned this one in Japan and Australia just last year.”

That’s not the stuff you feed me, is it?

No. And shut up.

David heard the truck arrive and hurried to the back to help with the new shipment. The newest arrivals were small, which was always nice (the smaller ones were usually less likely to try to eat you). David opened the boxes to find—

“What the fuck?”

—hamsters with elephant trunks.

“What is the point of these?”

He sighed and carried the boxes into the store. Time to put them in some nice enclosures and hope they couldn’t take anything apart with their trunks. If David’s luck remained the same, he’d soon find lots of dismantled cages and rampaging Elehamsters.

No, that name sucked. Hampsterphants it is.

Their new home was a decent-size cage with tubes coming out of it with little spherical rooms and a water bottle. There was a wheel, too, though David wasn’t sure if they would or even could use it. He tried to picture it and just saw the little balls of fur tripping over their trunks.

Kit gasped when she saw David depositing the creatures in their new home. “Oh my god, those are so cute!”

David rolled his eyes. “These things are ridiculous.”

“What has science done?!” Kit called out in her best mad-scientist voice (which may have been the worst mad-scientist voice David had ever heard).

David raised an eyebrow at her and she giggled.

The Hamsterphants were already blowing water at each other, using their trunks as water pistols.

“If you waste all your water doing that, you’re not getting any more until tomorrow.”

“Don’t be mean, Vid! They’re having fun.”

“They’ll be having less fun when they get thirsty.”

“Don’t worry, cuties,” Kit said to the cage. “I’ll give you more water.”

She’ll do it, too.

I know. She’s a damn menace.

One of the Hamsterphants squirted water at her.

“That’s what you get for encouraging them.”

A few of the boxes from Vyo-GenetiX also contained Guinea-Rats.

Kit looked at the Guinea-Rats. “Where should I put these?”

David knew they didn’t have another enclosure like the one they used for the Hamsterphants. “Aren’t there any empty terrariums set up?”

“Yeah, I think there’s one,” Kit said.

“Well, then use that one.”

The Guinea-Rats didn’t seem to do much. They’d have to move them to a better home, later. Something with tubes and an exercise wheel. Hopefully, they’d be more active then. Right now, they were just lying in a pile in the corner; a few of them pawed at the glass.

Kit put the lid down on the terrarium and went back to the Hamsterphants. She refilled their water and giggled as they squirted it at her.

David rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna buy one of those, aren’t you?”

“They’re so small and adorable!”

“They’re trouble,” David said. “They’ll probably murder you in your sleep.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because small furry creatures are evil.”