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There was a note on his door when he arrived home. He wrangled his packages over to one arm, to unlock the door and rip the note down. He dumped everything on the couch and read the note.
“Dear Mr. Franklin, I’ve tried to ask nicely but the items that need to be fixed have not been attended to. If you don’t respond by tomorrow, I’ll have no choice but to complain to the housing authority. Thank you for your prompt attention, Julia in 2F.”
“Shit,” he said. He’d been putting her off mostly because he didn’t have the money for all the repairs. Actually, he had the money, but it would mean he’d have to put off wizard class for another term. This was finally his time, dammit.
As the landlord, he was responsible, and her requests weren’t outlandish, her sink was broken, and the laundry room downstairs only had one working washer and dryer at the moment. The broken ones were past repair and had to be replaced. He could probably put her off by saying he’d ordered them, and they were delayed in shipping. That happened a lot in Alaska. He’d offer to take a hundred bucks off the rent or something so she could go to the laundromat. Maybe, just maybe, he could fix the sink. He checked on Rill and set out a bowl of food for him.
He dug through his spare room until he found his toolbox. It was buried under Christmas decorations and clothes he intended to donate. He hurriedly dressed in work clothes and headed downstairs to 2F.
He knocked on the door. A pretty, thirty something woman answered it. Her blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she was wearing workout clothes. She blushed prettily when she saw him.
“Uh, Mr. Franklin, I wasn’t expecting you.” He didn’t know what she meant; she left a note on his door. He frowned.
“I thought I’d try to fix your sink. Faster than a plumber,” he mumbled, embarrassed.
She looked behind her, then said, “Sure, yeah, come in.”
She opened the door wide and stood back so he could enter.
Oliver waited until she shut the door behind him, and then followed her over to the kitchen sink.
“Please don’t mind the dirty dishes,” she said. “I have the water turned off to the sink, because of the leak.”
He nodded. “Where did you notice the leak?”
She pointed.
He smiled. This might be easier than he thought. He might be able to just replace the faucet and voila, problem solved. He made a show of checking everything carefully. Turning the water back on and rechecking. He told her he’d need to replace the faucet, and he’d be back in a bit. Then he left and ran to the home improvement store. For a hundred and eighty bucks, he’d averted that disaster. He could still save the night, by applying to school once he’d installed the new faucet. His good mood was back.
The new faucet went in like a dream. He wanted to fist bump Julia, but that would be unprofessional. He told her the lie about the laundry facilities and told her to take a hundred off of the rent. She looked happy. He felt bad about the lie, but he could replace them next month. This was only a slight delay. Everything was back to sunshine and roses.
He almost ran back to his apartment. Rill was on the new perch, blinking sleepily at him.
“Hope you enjoyed your meal, buddy,” he said, and was reassured by a warm feeling of contentment.
He settled in at his kitchen table, where his ancient laptop rested. He opened it, cracked his knuckles, and searched up the “University of Anchorage Wizarding School.” His computer whirred, the fan blasting away like an old lawnmower engine. It was old and probably didn’t have much life left. The site opened. He clicked on registration.
He filled out the obvious, name, address, experience, etc. and finally scrolled through enough to get to the part that had held him up so far. Familiar. He marked Y for yes, and under species he put magpie. He’d never gotten that far on the application before, so he didn’t know what would pop up after.
He took a deep breath and held it as he waited for his computer to flip to the next screen.
“List three of your familiar’s top skills.”
Skills? What the hell?
He looked at Rill. Did flying count? Eating? Crap.
“Rill, do you have any skills?”
Rill made a distinct, “Beep.”
“What can you do?”
Rill hopped from foot to foot. Then flapped his wings and flew out the window. Oliver’s heart fell. Was the bird leaving him already? Had he annoyed it?
He looked through the rest of the questions. Apparently if the familiar had a strong skill, one skill would do. He sighed and looked out the window.
A few moments later, Rill was back. His heart leapt. What skill did the bird have? He waited, impatiently.
