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 Pace, A 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.