A Change in Pace (5)

Hey there! If you are just joining Lu’s adventure in “A Change in Pace,” please go to the List page or click on the links here and read A Change in PaceA Change in Pace (2), A Change in Pace (3), and A Change in Pace (4) before this one so you haven’t missed anything. Thank’s for reading!


He laid on the floor; the carpet would dry, but my bed wouldn’t. However, he was out of the truck. I closed the door to my room and ran the wheelbarrow back to the shed. Nothing I had ever read talked about how to handle a situation like this. Fiction didn’t count. I closed the trunk and went inside to find a towel and blanket. That’s when my mom spoke up, “Why did you need the wheelbarrow.” It wasn’t a question; she was informing me that I was going to tell her. I winced, my shoulders coming up like a caught bad guy in a T.V. show. “I, uh. I was moving the guy from the truck.”

“Mhm, and where did you put him exactly?” she was washing the dishes, a tune in her head.

I turned where I stood to face her in defeat, “Uhh.” There was no use trying to slip one by her. “I set him-” A resounding “shit” left my mom’s lips. The smell of burning chicken began rising from the stove. I took my leave and got a towel and blanket from the linen closet, before hustling back to my room and locked the door. “Alright, okay. Um,” I was shaking, my my voice wavering, “Let’s dry you off…” I unbuttoned the other sleek black buttons of his coat and took it off of him. My face turned red; I shook off the embarrassment. It was as if he worked out every day for years, arms strong-looking. His skin was smooth and tan, unblemished. I dried off his front. When I went to take off his coat to hang it up to dry, a silver glint caught my eye. It poked out from under his jacket. “Are you anything but surprises?” I mumbled and flipped him over, seeing folded silver wings. I understood why the jacket was longer than normal, he was hiding his wings. “Wh-what the hell are you?!” Ok, ok… It isn’t real. It’s not real. They’re fake because he must be in a costume or something. Towel in hand, I dried his torso and hair, then unfolded a wing to dry it too. I couldn’t open both or he wouldn’t fit in my room- his wingspan must have been maybe 10 or 11 feet. They weren’t fake.

I got his upper body dry and just kind of looked at his lower body, wondering how I should do this. I couldn’t just let him be sopping wet, he could get sick. Ugh. The shoes and socks now sat by his coat. “Why did I have to be the one to find you? No one is going to believe me now. And I have enough problems at school as it is,” I rambled partially to myself and partially to him, making the process a bit more bearable. I took a deep breath and took off his jeans, Man are these heavy with the water. They were; the only cloth heavier than wet jeals was one of those super soaker towels filled to their capacity with water. Jeans could go from a light two pounds to a whopping ten pounds just by being wet. I left the last article of clothing on him, as I was not willing to go that far. I finished drying him off, throwing the towel in the dirty laundry and then the blanket over him. Time to dry his clothes, I guess. His coat, sneakers, socks, and jeans would be done in the dryer after dinner.

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