Sunday was anything but its name-sake.
The sun was somewhere up there hiding behind all those grey clouds, probably crying and sending all those tear drops down, drenching the place.
Pete raced outside earlier and came back in shivering. Must have enjoyed the weather because he didn't complain. He just climbed onto the sofa, shook out his wet fur and plopped down. I covered him with a blanket before turning my attention to my stray for the weekend...and probably the next month.
The first room was usually the coolest room in the entire building which is why I chose it for the strays I brought home. It was warm enough to be comfortable and cool enough so that when they snuggled up, they'd have the right temperature. This was not the case with the new one. His bruises a bit less green and purple, he looked like he'd rubbed himself with charcoal and then stood out in some snow.
'Oh gosh, no.' I rushed over to my room and took up my own blanket, the one I'd washed yesterday, and came back. I covered him with it and even five minutes later, he was still shivering. I took my other one from storage and came back with that too. Bundled under the sheets, he looked more comfortable but still had a shake to him.
'If I make you food, will you eat it?' I asked and waited. He shook less but he kept his eyes closed. 'Sorry I didn't give you more to wear. I kind of tossed out your clothes. All that blood wasn't getting into my machine for anything.' I sat down beside the mattress and folded my legs watching him. He opened his eyes, the half an inch that they would open, and looked at me. 'It's just food. I promise you, if I wanted to hurt you, you would still be out back where we found you.' I waited again.
'We?' He could barely get the word out.
'Yeah. Me and Pete. He's the one that found you. Same place we found a couple of our other strays.' I expected him to retaliate or argue like most humans would but he just laid there and stared through his slits. 'Okay. I'm going to make you something to eat and you're going to eat it or we're going to put you right back where we found you.' I got up and left the room, heading to the kitchen, feeling guilty for threatening to throw him back out.
What if he thought they'd catch him? I told him that he'd be safe then here I was telling him I'd put him out?
I started making potatoes thinking they'd be easy for him to swallow before I started making soup remembering that people usually had that when they had a fever. Mashed potatoes on one side and soup on the other, I tried to figure out the best course of action. I feed him potatoes, he'd have potatoes. If I fed him the soup, we'd have ourselves a hydrated human.
Soup won.
I wolfed down some of the potatoes, having made too much, and took a bowl of soup into the room.
I got him to sit up after a battle with myself trying to lift him and him groaning in pain. He sat sweating, same as I was, almost without energy. 'Food.' I said and forced myself up. I brought the bowl back over, climbing beside him. Spoon filled and waiting, he refused to open his mouth.
'You have to eat!' I yelled in frustration after I'd only waited...an entire ten minutes.
He looked at the spoon in front of him but didn't make any attempt to cooperate. I almost wanted to force him to eat but I didn't see either of us being happy with that decision. If he but off my finger then we'd be in more problems. 'Fine. If you want to eat, you can eat. If you don't want to, I'll leave the choice to you.' I grumbled and started to get up when he swallowed harshly, his throat clearly dry and in pain.
'Please.' His word sounded as painful as the other.
Instead of talking, I sat back down and fed him in silence. He ate slowly. We sat there for what felt like hours and I actually offered to bring him more. I was happy to see that he'd eaten. He refused seconds and went back to being completely silent. It was all I got out of him and I accepted it.
Amused and irritated by his passive nature, I left the room and him in it. Pete stood by the front door wagging his tail and I'll be honest when I say, I don't trust my dog anymore.
'What you got there?' I asked, walking over to him praying that there wasn't anyone outside. I opened the door and...there was.
The man stood tall enough that he'd fill the doorway. His black shirt and jet black jeans topped off with his beanie, soaked choppy black hair, eye liner, a grey and silver chain on his jeans finished with combat boots made him the definition of a rock fan. Throw in his massive shoulders and clear abs outline together with his bruised knuckles and I was certain he was mafia.
'Can I help you?' I sounded as annoyed as I truly was. Having sat and baby fed a stubborn man who I knew was in pain but radiated irritation, I was in no mood to face anyone.
'I..' He looked taken aback. We'd never even look these men in the eyes, normally.
'What do you want?' I asked, folding my arms. He rubbed his chin and I simply twisted my head to the side, catching Pete doing the same thing from the corner of my eye. I smiled at the similarity which seemed to confuse the man even more.
'Yes?' I looked back over at him waiting.
'My brother. He's this high, ' He placed his hand to his height, 'a lot more aggressive. Hates people. Looks nothing like me.' He finished and looked at me as though I should know exactly who he was talking about from that.
'How high did you say, again?' I asked but I didn't allow the humor I felt to be presented to him in my voice.
'This...' He stopped himself, his hand already to his height. ' Do you find this amusing?' He asked in a dry tone. Drier than his previous tone.
'Quite so. Your brother really would have to be high to have crossed paths with me and stayed here.' I replied too quickly. I expected him to reject or retaliate but instead he nodded and dropped his hand.
'You may be right.' He nodded, not moving an inch away, probably waiting for me to be stupid enough and punch him in the face. I was surprised but hadn't expected his response at all. 'Well, if you do see a man matching that description, please contact me here first.' He pulled out a card from his jeans. 'And do me a favor and call the number before you attempt to scare him away.' He grinned wickedly as I took the card and somehow I knew what he was implying. He stood before me simply being tolerant. His brother, as he called the man he was searching for, would not be as nice.
My expression changed to understanding and fear, the man walked off down the walkway, to the pavement. He walked straight on, splashing droplets of water around, not stepping into any cars or vanishing. Across the street at the two flats there were two other men, both dressed in similar attires but less Rockstar and more Mafia from the first glance. They glared my way, waved one salute before moving on to the other two flats on the street.
They were definitely looking for a guy but I couldn't tell if it was my stray who was lying bundled up just inside or if the man they were looking for was someone else entirely. My mind told me that they were being vague with their descriptions to make their jobs easier. If anyone answered them, they'd either be giving them their "brother" back or they'd be handing them a "victim" unknowingly.
I closed the door, not waiting for anyone else to show up. I made my way over and sat down beside Pete. He laid his head on my lap and simply stayed there. No one harmed my pets in my possession and no one was going to harm the man we'd rescued. Turning over the card in my hands, I looked down at the name of the man that was trying to pry information from regular residents.
'You're not getting him, Oso Graziano.' I said to the card. 'Search all you want. You'll never hurt him again.' I had no idea who the man I was helping was. Yet, I knew I'd try my best to get him on his feet and safely away from this town.