Page 25 of Garbage

Which led to a whole other set of questions he wasn’t sure how to answer. What were the words for all of his feelings about Evan? What would he do when Evan wasn’t there?

Evan wasn’t just his guide, he was his… something. He didn’t know how to describe it yet, but Evan was more precious than his blue towel or the little plant with white flowers that Evan had bought him for the living room window.

That plant was his to take care of. No one could uproot it.

But what would happen when he was uprooted? Evan always assured him he could stay for as long as he wanted… but there was this lingering assumption that one day he’d have to move out on his own. Away from his… Evan.

None of these thoughts would have occurred to him three weeks ago. His life had been lonely, then, but simple. Now he knew how much there was to lose.

When he saw Evan’s car waiting for him outside the depot, it gave him a rush of warmth. He opened his window and waved widely, having discovered that Evan couldn’t tell the trucks apart.

Evan waved back.

Quincy showered and dried himself as quickly as he could, then started for the entrance.

He’d almost made it when the night guard intercepted him. “Where are you going?”

Evan’s pistons cycled up and his arms felt like they’d powered down, though that didn’t match his indicator readings. Was that normal? And what was he supposed to say?

The guard was almost his size, but soft in the middle where Quincy was flat. He wore a dark blue uniform, which scared Quincy much more than his size. The guard had the power to stop him. Turn him off, even. He wouldn’t even need to touch him—he could do it all from his station.

“I’m going to meet my friend,” Quincy finally spoke.

The guard looked him over. “Who’s your friend?”

“Evan Llwyd.”

“And where did you meet him?”

“Uh…” Quincy really didn’t want to talk about how they met. He didn’t even want to think about it. “While I was working.”

It felt weird to give an incomplete answer, like gears crunching and turning the wrong way, even though all of his thought processes were electronic. He wasn’t quite going against his programming, but it was close.

“What’s he doing with you?”

Should he tell the guard that he was a spark? Was that good or bad? Quincy looked helplessly toward the exit, but Evan’s car was out of sight.

“Let’s go meet this Evan,” the guard commanded.

It sounded mean, but that was good, right? Evan would know what to do.

Belatedly, Quincy realized that he could have texted Evan, or even called him. He’d just frozen up and forgotten.

He sent a quick text now. The security guard wants to talk with you.

Evan didn’t write back, but he was already striding toward them as they went through the gate. He looked nervous, but it didn’t affect his speech. “Hey, Quincy!” he called out, then “And hello Officer…”

“Banks,” the guard replied. “Not an officer.”

“Alright, Mr. Banks. What can I do for you?”

“You’re removing city property without a permit.”

Quincy edged closer to Evan. He didn’t want to be property. And he especially didn’t want to hear that Evan couldn’t bring him back to his lovely apartment with the funny mugs and soft couch.

And Evan himself. Quincy didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t see Evan.

“Actually,” Evan replied evenly, “he’s a spark.”