Attractive Nuisance

by David

Jay poured the chicken bones and other debris onto Grandma’s plate. She sure loved fried chicken. Then he loaded the rest of the dishes into the dishwasher. As he walked back through the dining room the pile of scraps shifted with a rustle.

“Aaa!” he screamed. Then: “Sorry. Always freaks me out.” Maisie and Frank, sitting in front of the TV, didn’t make a sound.

The cat was sitting on the keyboard, chewing the foam off Jay’s headphones. The screen filled with an ever-lengthening series of “k”s.

“Malthus, you’re such a pig! Those are empty calories, too.” He scooped the cat up and tossed him onto the floor. Then he turned off the computer, unplugged the headphones and shoved them into his T-shirt drawer, dressed for work, and headed out with minutes to spare. Grandma’s plate was clean. He shouted “Bye!” and slammed the door behind him.

—

Jay parked under the light behind the station. It wasn’t dark yet, but the lot would be stygian when his shift ended. He pushed open the front door of the building. The bell tinkled.

‘Yo, Mainline.” There were no customers. “Quiet afternoon?”

“No one comes here, man.” Mainline ran his hands through his hair jerkily. He needed a fix. “How’s your folks?” He stripped off his uniform shirt and edged past Jay.

“Oh, you know. Spend all their time in front of the TV nowadays.”

“Later.” The bell tinkled.

It wasn’t a bad job. Most customers just swiped at the pump and he never saw them. No holdups in months. “I need a change, you know,” he said aloud. But to what? Time sped away.

—

“I’m home!”

Maisie was lying on the floor in front of the couch. Malthus stared unblinking from the magazine-strewn coffee table. Jay wagged a finger at the cat.

“Did you knock her over again?” He picked her up and set her down beside her husband. It seemed like she was getting lighter every day.

Malthus jumped down and trotted into the dining room. A moment later there was a 10-pound thud.

“Mrowr!”

Jay frowned. “And stay off the table.”

Silence. Jay leaned in the door. Grandma’s plate was the only thing on the table, and it was clean as a whistle.

end