He lifts his fork and stares down at his plate. He goes for the eggs first, seeming to savor every bite.
“I thought maybe you could help out around here today,” I offer, “and spend some time outdoors, if you’re up to it.”
He glances over at me. “As opposed to going back to my dark and dreary cell? Yes, I vote for that option.”
Lila cuts me a look—condemnation, mixed with an I told you so.
I refold the napkin in my lap. “Alright. Just stay where I can see you.”
Orán salutes me with his fork in jest. “Your wish is my command. Simply tell me where I can help and what to do.”
I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is, but something about seeing this side of him throws me off. He’s far different from the serious and determined lover, yet I can’t say that this playful side of him doesn’t pique my interest as well.
We finish the meal, and the awkwardness lingers, but Lila does her level best to fill the silences with benign conversation.
Afterward, Lila and I fall into our usual rhythm at the sink as we clean the dishes. Orán offers to help, but I wave him off. We have a system, and it works. Plus, the farther away he is, the more capable I am of acting rationally.
While we clean, he stays within sight but does wander through the kitchen and front room, peering at all the things I’ve acquired on my journeys. My house is a mismatch of odds and ends, furniture, knickknacks, and supplies. It’s small but cozy, and I can’t help but wonder what he thinks of it as he takes it all in.
As I dry my hands after the last dish is put away, I ask, “Now it’s meal time for everyone else. Ready to be put to work?”
“Sure, what can I do?”
Lila takes a seat on the couch and puts her feet up on a little footstool. “Are you going to introduce him to our little village creatures?”
“That’s the plan.”
Lila grins. “Tell Naga hi for me.” To Orán, she says, “Be careful not to let her get too close. She’s a biter.”
“Naga?”
I wave him off. “You’ll see.”
We start in Lila’s room and work our way through the house. Naga, Lila’s boa constrictor, does hiss, but she doesn’t attempt to take a bite out of Orán. In fact, she calms when Orán raises his hands in front of her, even resettles back down into her enclosure.
“So you have a way with nature. Nature and animals.”
“With all living things.”
“You might come in handy then.”
I have him hold different bags of food and a jug of water. He seems happy to help, surprised, and enamored by all the creatures he didn’t realize lived here with us. When we finish up in my room, he remarks again about my propensity for creatures that can jump. “But why not a rabbit or a kangaroo? I mean, it would really round out your collection.” It’s a joke, but I simply smirk and wave him to follow me.
I guide him through the house and out the back door by the kitchen. There’s a small sun room, and a few of the insects that prefer warmer climates are in here, where I have a heater and sun lamps set up. He inspects each one as I feed them all.
Then I open the screen door into the garden. I cross my arms and wait. He delivers just as anticipated. The gasp is one filled with surprise and awe.
“Eri.”
One half of the garden, which is quite large, is fenced off with chicken wire to keep the animals out of the food. The other is full of different bushes and flowers, and little rock paths for them to traverse while they go about their day.
Orán doesn’t say another word. He simply sets down everything in his arms and walks forward before crouching down. He holds out his palm and attempts to make friends with Talbert, whose nose is twitching as he hops closer and inspects the hand, which smells faintly of food.
He’s a large bunny with golden fur, and his family is hiding out somewhere, slower to approach the massive stranger. Some of them are easy to spot since their white fur sticks out among the foliage, while the others stay well hidden.
But I spy a tiny pink nose peeking out from under a yellow rose bush, and the opal fur.
“How many in total?” Orán asks.
