Page 17 of Puck You Both

Cold air.

Then, Wall, ducking under the frame.

He's in a black hoodie and carrying a laptop and a hefty folder, and he is somehow even bigger without the pads.

"Sorry I'm late." He holds the folder up toward Mama Paws. "I was waiting on the printer."

The printer. He printed things.

And then there are the hands. I knew he had big hands, every goalie does, but his are just…absurd. The folder looks travel-sized in his grip. One of those hands could cover my entire face, which is not a thought I'm having, because I'm here for charity.

Very aggressively for charity.

***

THE MEETING STARTS twelve minutes late because Hendrix steals a pen and Mama Paws refuses to begin until everyone has taken a cookie.

“Drop it,” Patrick tells Hendrix.

“Kiss kiss!”

“I don’t negotiate with birds.”

Hendrix bites the pen clip.

“I think you have lost this one,” I say.

He gives up on the pen and takes the seat beside me.

Wall connects his laptop to the shelter’s projector. A spreadsheet fills the white wall above the donation bins. Printed copies wait at every seat around the folding tables.

I flip through mine.

Campaign dates. Estimated costs. Volunteer numbers.

The final page is titled CONTINGENCIES and includes, I shit you not, a plan for "weather events." This man printed backup plans for the sky.

“I sent this yesterday,” Wall says.

Patrick examines his copy. “I reviewed it.”

Wall pauses with one hand on his laptop. “And?”

“I made corrections.”

Patrick reaches for the projector cable.

Wall doesn’t release it.

For several seconds, they hold opposite ends while everyone watches.

Then Wall lets go.

Patrick connects his laptop. A revised timeline replaces Wall’s version. Several cells have comments attached, and the launch date is now highlighted in yellow.

Wall sits back slowly.

This is already better than television.