Chapter 5

Cars are wonderful things when they work, but David’s wasn’t working that morning so it was no longer a wonderful thing. It was a pain in the ass thing that got a few well-deserved kicks and a lot of swear words thrown at it. When it became clear that the car had no intention of responding to physical and verbal abuse, David gave up. He grabbed his ratty grey denim backpack to put Mano in and went to catch the bus.

Public transportation is the world’s way of punishing people without cars. The bus smelled like bodily fluids no vehicle had any business smelling like. And David was willing to cling to the top of the bus if they’d let him, just to get out of hearing range of the shrieking baby. He tried to distract himself, thinking about other things, but all he could think about was the invisible snake that was probably choking the life out of his car’s engine or radiator or whatever the hell snakes choke the life out of in cars.

On top of the city’s stop-and-go traffic, the bus stopped every few feet at the designated bus stops. David couldn’t begrudge it, though; the only fresh air came in when the bus doors opened. David tried to avoid letting any of the passengers around him get too close; he was afraid whatever was wrong with them might be contagious.

The bus dropped him off on the other side of the street, a little ways east from Bob’s Pets, just in front of the clothing chain store Threadbare (expensive, cheaply made clothing). He had to pass Fried Fare, the smell of which made his hung-over stomach curdle. After that was the Jean Luc Marie Corbet Zacharia de Mure store (expensive, expensively made clothing). The designer’s clothing store smelled of expensive perfume that didn’t affect David’s stomach; instead, it pounded on his headache like an angry debt collector. Next, David passed by Buzzzz, the place that made those undrinkable health shakes. It didn’t smell like anything, which seemed like a bad portent for a place that sold foodish items. Finally, David reached Tossers, held his breath so he wouldn’t smell the pizzeria, and crossed the street to Bob’s Pets.

David arrived late to work and was prepared to apologize profusely to his boss, but it wasn’t necessary. The boss didn’t even notice he was late, which would have been a huge problem if they ever got customers, but they didn’t so it wasn’t.

Mano agreed to feed the animals and clean the tanks if David would refrain from complaining. David accepted the terms eagerly.

When David and Mano switched bodies, a few things happened. For one, Mano became a human and David became a rabbit. But there were some other subtle changes. Mano’s posture was better, and his movements were more graceful and purposeful than David’s. His face also held a certain energy that David’s lacked. It was as if Mano the human was happy to be alive, whereas David the human sometimes resembled a raincloud made flesh. Actually, that’s a pretty apt description.

Feeding the snakes made Mano a little uncomfortable at first—old instincts die hard and all that—but after he got used to the fact that he was bigger than them, it was actually kind of enjoyable to watch them eat their prey.

There is something decidedly wrong about a rabbit that likes to watch snakes eat.

After he finished that day’s work, he once again took out a pencil and a few sheets of scrap paper and got to drawing. There were so many different creatures in the store, Mano had no shortage of references to use. Weird references that wouldn’t be found in the natural world, but references nonetheless.

Mano also drew himself, the rabbit, a few times. At least he looked like a normal animal. With a little bit of work, the fuzzy creature on the paper looked touchably soft.

How David could be so inept at something so simple was a mystery to him.

When the time seemed right, Mano trashed the drawings and let David regain control of his body. This time, when David mentioned being bored (he didn’t complain about being bored; complaining wasn’t allowed), Mano suggested that he practice drawing. David had nothing better to do, so working on the art that he hoped would get him out of this dead-end job seemed like an acceptable idea.

Just as David was entering his apartment complex, he received a text from Amanda. So, he stepped right back out and went to the 24/7 store next door. A lot of different 24/7 stores had taken residence in that space. Right now, the sign above the door featured a little cartoon chick and the name “Cheep Cheep.” David bought the milk, ignored the ice cream bars calling to him in the freezer next to the register, and returned home.

After David popped the milk in the fridge, he managed to rest on the couch for almost five whole minutes before Amanda interrupted him.

She held up the carton of milk. “David, what’s this?”

“It’s milk.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Right next door, at Cheep Cheep.”

“That’s disgusting,” Amanda said. “Why didn’t you go to Organi-Mart?”

“I’m not going into that place. It smells like herbs and vegetables in there.”

She sighed in a way that meant she wouldn’t be trusting David with important things, like getting milk.

Amanda walked away, remembered that she walked out there for a reason, and then turned back around and smiled at David. “I need you.”

Most people would have felt immeasurable joy that another human being needed them. In David’s case, instead of joy there was pure dread.

“Come on, fuck me in the shower.”

Yes. You could use a shower.

This wouldn’t be the first time they’d had sex in the shower. So far, he’d twisted his ankle, bruised his elbow, and gotten soap in his eyes. The first two weren’t so bad, but the soap stung like a motherfucker.

The shower was even worse than the closet. Both were small spaces, but whereas the closet was full of junk, the shower was perilously slick.

You whine too much.

David arrived at work the next day with a bruised knee and chaffed dick, as well as the rabbit. Thankfully, the boss only knew about the last one.

“Will you restock the shelves?”

“Why?” Mano said. “That hardly seems difficult.”

“Yeah, but I don’t feel like doing it.”

“That is a lousy reason,” Mano said.

“Come on,” David said. “It’s a chance for you to be human for a little while.”

“I’m over it,” Mano said. “Do your own work.”

“I’ll complain.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

David scowled. “Fine, I don’t need—”

David remembered all those days of holding his breath while he scooped up toxic animal droppings.

“Are you going to finish that thought?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

Rule One in the Art of Negotiation: Make the opposing party dependent on your services.

“Ugh,” David grumbled, unhappy with the idea of doing what he got paid for. “What do you want, Mano?”

“Nothing.”

“There must be something you’d do the work for.”

Mano pretended to think about it.

“I want your Saturdays.”

“For what?!”

“Walking in the park, going to the library—whatever I want, within reason.”

“Can’t I just let you have control of the TV on Saturdays?”

“Television is for plebeians.”

“I like my Saturdays,” David said.

Mano shrugged.

David made a face at the rabbit and went to the food aisle. He knelt in front of it and began checking the dates on the packaging, removing the ones that had expired. He had looked at two bags when he decided he’d had enough.

“Sundays,” David said.

“What?”

“You can have my Sundays.”

“Deal.”

Mano switched places with David and took over restocking. It took him a few minutes to complete the pitiful task, giving him plenty of time to practice drawing.

Rule Two in the Art of Negotiation: Start with a high asking price; this lets the opposing party think they’ve achieved something when they inevitably attempt to haggle down.