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“No, not at all,” I said, taking a step back.
Jonah laughed. “Come on, give his head a pet. He loves head scratches.”
“That’s okay. I think I’m good.”
“Do it.” Jonah moved closer, I moved farther. My back was against the door, and Jonah was laughing, which was starting to make me laugh.
“Fine, fine. You two can get acquainted later. We’ve got work to do.” Jonah’s smile dropped as he went back to Chibby’s tank, placing him gently back inside. He went around the corner to the kitchen and returned with a small bowl of fresh fruit. He dropped it in the corner of the tank, next to a black rock holding fresh water.
“All right,” Jonah said, clapping his hands together and looking around. He took a moment to let it all hit him.
I wish I could have raised my hand, snapped my fingers, and everything would have been packed and stacked neatly in cardboard boxes for Jonah. He deserved it. Instead, I knew we had a long afternoon ahead of us, rummaging and sorting through memories that would most likely prove painful for him.
“All right,” he said again, taking a deep breath and rolling his shoulders. “Let’s get started in the living room. I think Wendy might be home; the bedroom door’s shut, and I think I hear music. We’ll leave that room last. I’d only need my clothes from in there.”
“Roger that. Let’s do this.”
We got focused on working our way through the living room and kitchen, throwing in whatever Jonah said was his and he wanted to keep. Anything that was getting donated would go into separate boxes, and anything that was deemed trash had a trash bag to go into. We worked smoothly together and got through packing in around an hour and a half. All throughout that time, Jonah and I managed to keep a light mood and joke around a bit, even though we were going through old photos showing a smiling Jonah and Wendy, both young and having just moved into their new, barely furnished apartment together.
We packed it all up and were still in good spirits when Jonah went to go check if the bedroom door was locked. It creaked open as Jonah turned the knob. He peeked in and opened the door farther, revealing a darkened bedroom that looked a little like a college kid’s dorm. There were clothes all over the floor and the bed, with the drawers haphazardly thrown open and spilling out pink lace panties and G-strings.
“Jesus,” Jonah said, looking around. “I’m gone a couple of days and this place turns into something out of a post-apocalyptic movie.”
I noticed the door to their bathroom was shut, the sound of the shower coming through the thin door. We got to work on the bedroom, not knowing how much longer we had to get the bedroom packed before Wendy finished up with her shower. Jonah was in a hurry, and so was I, but I also wanted to see Wendy. I wanted to put a face to the woman who treated Jonah liked dried gum stuck to the bottom of her flip-flop, when Jonah should have been treated like the king that he was.
My phone buzzed, drawing my attention away from the box I was currently packing.
It was a message from the hacker, Ayana.
“Looks like my hacker contact can meet with us in a week,” I spoke out loud after reading it.
Jonah didn’t look up as he rifled through a stack of important-looking papers. “Nothing sooner?”
“Says they’re out of the country until then.”
“Think he’ll be able to figure out what’s in the phone?”
“She?”
Jonah nodded, smiled. “Think she’ll be able to hack the phone?”
“Pfft, she’s hacked into way more intense things. A five-year-old phone should be something she can do in her sleep.”
“How’d you meet her?”
“If I told you that, well, I’d have to… do nothing. It’s not that crazy of a story.”
Jonah laughed as he placed a pile of papers in his “keep” stack.
“I used to work as a bounty hunter before Zane offered me the position at Stonewall. We ended up crossing paths during my work, and we’ve helped each other out ever since. She’s a really cool girl.”
“Bounty hunter, huh?” Jonah stood up and moved his papers into the shoebox he was using to store them. “You’re full of surprises, man.”
“Sorry, did I say bounty hunter?” I shot him a grin. “I meant “booty hunter.’”
Jonah guffawed at that. “Right, must have misheard. Of course. You look like a master booty hunter, that’s for sure.”
“Mhmm,” I said, laughing like a little kid. I went back to moving old DVDs from the stand next to the TV and into the box in front of me. I had a feeling Jonah hadn’t so much as glanced at any of these movies for years, made more clear by the layer of dust that had covered most of them. But still, Jonah asked me to pack them up for him because they were his, and because he didn’t want Wendy to have them. I could understand that.
