II          Chinchillas

 

            Now it should be said that the definition of “god” should be altered slightly in this case.  Byron wasn’t a religious man, far from it, his deepest church-related memories involving “fall down to you knees, hands praising in the air, songs of worship and undying loyalty and other disturbing meanings” types of religion.  However, at this moment, he was feeling the power, not only from the patter of his heart, but the thumping of his crotch.

            No this god was different in appearance from your typical white robed, thong wearing fashionable gods.  Dressed in a green t-shirt with the phrase, “Byte me!” in computer letters, sagging jeans and skateboard shoes, this was not your everyday god.  In fact, this wasn’t even like the attractions that girls have in the forms of Brad Pitts and Tom Cruises because this guy didn’t have that look.  Byron, however, wasn’t complaining for a second, not wanting that glossy, magazine doctored look.  He was looking for this.

            Byron watched as this portly, nicely bearded guy with a cute potbelly to rub, made his way past the counter in deep search.  Eyes behind dark rimmed square glasses scanned the room; Byron’s eyes were drawn just on him.  Suddenly the guy just looked at him and Byron got stuck in time, unable to comprehend the moment.

            “Do you sell chinchilla food?”

            “Uh . . . yeah.  We carry a few different brands, some more basic, some more special.”

            “Cool.  Where would I find it?”

            “Here. Let me show you.”

            Byron led the guy past the fish aquariums, the stacks upon stacks of Fancy Feast cans and the large assortment of dog training pads to the small animal section, small being the operative words.

            “Sorry, we don’t carry a lot of chinchilla things.  Just water bottles, feed dishes and a few foods.”

            “No prob.  There isn’t a lot out there.  I usually just experiment with a few things.”

            I can think of one thing you could experiment with right now, Byron nearly said before the angle of conscience grabbed his tongue.  The guy grabbed one of the chinchilla foods and began scanning the ingredients.  Byron just watched, staring at the guy’s thick thighs and rotund butt, praying that he could hold his humiliation to a limit if he ever got caught.

            Byron stood there prettying up the shelves while the guy surveyed the shelf.  He didn’t want to seem too obvious though, so he wandered back to the counter.  Just then, an older man opened the front door and screamed obscenities at Byron, shouting a fuck this and fuck that, something about “the world going to hell”.   The old man left almost as quickly as he appeared, running past the big picture window, screaming similar things at any passing person, scaring them ridiculously.

            “Who was that?”

            The guy with the chinchillas was now standing at the till, food in hand and his wallet open to pay.

            “Oh just a guy in the neighbourhood who screams at me usually around 1pm.  Hey look at that!  Right on schedule.”

            “Wow it is quite a city.”

            “Well I’m pretty new to it myself, but I’m getting used to that guy.  Almost old habit now.  Yourself?”

            “Nah, been here a number of years.  Never saw him before though.  Just surprises me.  How long have you been here?”

            “Since April.  Still finding my way.  So your bill comes to $5.16.”

            “Cool. Thanks.”

            Just then his manager returned, sweaty from her great escape failure.  She looked at the guy then at Byron, making quizzical eyes and sitting heavily on an evil grin.  Byron hated it when she knew that he found someone attractive.  It was like he emitted a huge glowing sign out of his forehead that stated, “dorky crush alert”.  It became even more obvious when he nearly gave back two tens for his twenty instead of one.

            “Sorry.”

            “Byron’s just a little . . . off.  Did the screaming guy make his way by?”

            “Yeah, you just missed him.  I think he said, ‘God loves you’, but it could have been, ‘god I love you’.”

            “Aww, I missed the most dependable man in my life.  Well c’est la vie.  I’m going to go have my lunch and I’ll leave you work.  Byron here knows a lot about furry things, big and small.”

            His manager giggled as she made her way to the backroom.  Byron could feel his face getting red as he looked back at the guy who seemed unaware of the subtle humour.  He might as well just give up now.

            “Do you have any animals?”

            “Ugh no.  I’m in a really small room in someone’s apartment.  I’m just not settled yet.”

            “Not happy there?”

            “Not fulfilled would be a better answer.  I guess I should look for a new place, but I’m low on cash.  This place barely pays the rent.”

            “Well here’s my number.  I’m looking for a roommate right now.  Last guy kept waking me up at all hours of the night adjusting his diaper.”

            “Diaper?”

            “Baby fetish.  Every morning and night, all I could hear was his roll of packing tape over and over again.  I just couldn’t stand it anymore.  And with you I would at least have someone to take care of Wally when I wasn’t home.”

            “Wally the chinchilla?”

            “Right.  Well get back to me on it.”

            The guy handed over a metallic shiny card with a picture of a dark overlord staking a corpse and a name and number.

            “Don’t be frightened.  I only do that that if I see a package of Attends enter the premise.”

            “Thanks.  I’ll think about it.”

            The guy left, chinchilla food in hand and the room was filled with silence, not a customer to worry about.  Byron was admiring the card curiously, feeling the embossed red and yellow writing under his fingers.  Suddenly his manager’s voice appeared above his head from the window looking down from her office like a message from God.

            “Did you at least get his name?”

            And number too.  Gary Fielder.  416-699-3214.  Yes indeed he got everything.