Page 65 of Garbage

Evan clapped his hands together. “Oh, Quincy. Feet? Really?”

“Yeah!” Quincy was bouncing in his chair.

“Show me!”

Quincy looked up at the guard. He stared back at them with hard eyes, as if he hadn’t heard.

Probably waiting for Quincy to fuck something up so he could bark something out at them.

Evan appealed to Rashid. “Do you think he could show me his feet?”

Rashid looked at Quincy, his voice gentle. “Tell me about your feet, Quincy. Why did you choose that over fixing your arm?”

Ah. This was going to be a heartwarming clip to show the jury. It felt a little gross, and completely artificial, to be sharing this special moment on camera for strangers who might think that Quincy, dear, innocent Quincy, was a killer.

Evan was also convinced that Rashid knew his job, and Evan would do literally anything to keep Quincy out of prison.

“I’ve always wanted feet,” Quincy told Rashid, his eyes going distant as he probably scrolled through memories. “I had solid boots, before, that were part of my body. They couldn’t flex well, and when I tried to wear normal pants for the first time, instead of the ones that close down the sides, I often couldn’t get them over my heel. But mostly, I wanted to be able to come home after a day of work, slip off my shoes, and feel what it was like to relax in my socks.”

Rashid nodded encouragingly. Evan nodded, too. He fell more in love with Quincy every moment, and that wouldn’t change even if Quincy did.

Quincy looked at both of them and continued. “I wanted to be able to connect to where I was standing. I wanted to feel the carpet or tile under my feet. One day, I want to walk in the grass and the sand. I want to wade in a creek and wiggle my toes in the rocks.”

Evan wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t.

Quincy’s lips quirked up. “I also want to take my shoes off at the door. The world outside can be dirty, and I want my home to be beautiful.” He was looking right at Evan as he said it. “A home should be a comfort. A place to relax. Now, I can put my feet up on the couch when I watch a movie. I can rest on a bed and keep the sheets fresh. Plus, I’m excited to try different shoes.” He didn’t quite wink at the camera recording from somewhere on Rashid’s head, but it was close. His eyes sparkled with delight.

God, if this didn’t win people over, Evan didn’t know what would. Quincy’s dream was poetic and heartbreaking.

“I’ll go ask the guard if you can show us,” Rashid murmured.

While he was gone, Quincy and Evan just looked at each other. There were so many things to say, but none that they could say here.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” Quincy finally said. “I wish you hadn’t, though. It was horrible seeing you hurt.” There were shadows in Quincy’s eyes. “I was so scared.”

Evan knew exactly how he was feeling. Being hurt himself had been terrifying. He truly thought he was going to die. But it had nothing on how scared he’d been for Quincy.

Evan shook his head. “Nothing could have stopped me from coming for you. Thank you for rescuing me.”

You’re not a killer, he wanted to say. You were so clever and brave. You protected me and saved both of us. If you were ever in that position again, I’d want you to make the same choice. You’re the victim here, and you don’t deserve any of this.

Rashid returned to the table. He’d probably been standing there for a while, recording them, or at least trying not to interrupt. “The guard says you can take off one sock and shoe, as long as you stay on your side and there’s no touching.”

Quincy bounced in his chair again, instantly reverting back to his bubbly self. “Thank you!” he called loudly to the guard, unruffled by the bored grunt he got in return.

Quincy stuck out one leg beside the table. Evan could see the moment when he started to unfurl his pincer arms, and the moment when he drew them back.

Rashid had probably coached him to only use his humanoid arms. All the better to remind the jury of just how human-like he was.

Evan burned with impotent fury and everyone who’d ever made Quincy feel like he was lesser because of his body. But that had no place here, today, either.

“Look, Evan!” Quincy slipped off his canvas shoe, and was pulling down his thin, white sock. Five perfect toes wiggled at the end of an elegantly arched foot. The transition to the skin above his ankle was invisible.

“They’re perfect. Do you know what size you are?”

“Twelve.” Quincy beamed.

Evan knew what he was doing the second he got home. There were shiny red stilettos in Quincy’s future. Also, cute animal socks. “I’m gonna order some shoes for you. Rashid said I can even bring clothes for you to wear home.”