Strange Mammals Read Online Free PDF Page A

shin and he hugged her tightly.
    “So Lucas didn’t seem like such a bad guy,” she said, and pulled back to look at Winston. Flecks of light caught in her hazel eyes and sparkled.
    “That’s because he was trying to get you drunk.”
    “Oh, don’t be silly,” she said, making a fist and chocking him lightly on the nose. “Why would he do that? He could see that we’re happily married.”
    “Maybe it’s just something intrinsic to his profession.”
    “Oh, man,” she said, tracing a lopsided figure-eight on his ribcage, “that was so weird. Do you really think he’s a gigolo?”
    “I don’t know,” Winston said, thinking about how Diane had warmed automatically to Lucas, as if she couldn’t help it. “Somehow I don’t doubt it.” He stroked her spine with the tip of his index finger. She purred and arched her back, pressing hard into him, rolling him onto his shoulder blades. Her lips still tasted of the honey mead as she pushed her tongue into his mouth. He wriggled underneath her and ran his hands over her smooth back and shoulders. Just as she was settling on top of him, he looked past her and saw Lucas standing in front of the armoire in the corner of the room, arms crossed, grinch smile stretched all the way to his ears. Winston jerked up into a sitting position, reflexively clamping Diane in a bear hug.
    There was no one in front of the armoire.
    “Win?” Diane said, cradling his head. “What is it? You’re trembling.”
    “Nothing,” he said, lying back down. “It was nothing.” Diane rolled off and hugged him tight. Winston closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, the musky sweet smell she emitted after sex. He opened his eyes and looked back to the corner of the room, but apart from Diane’s armoire, it was empty.
    ~
    Both of them slept in the next morning. Upon waking they snuggled and talked in low voices, finally getting out of bed around noon. Winston chalked up the vision the previous night to exhaustion and an overactive imagination, and thought no more about it. They had a quick lunch of salami, wedges of cheddar, and wheat crackers—thoughtfully placed in the welcome basket that had been left in the kitchen by the landlord—then got to work. After some more unpacking, and assembling both their computers in the office, he went downstairs to the U-Haul still parked outside to return it. Since the rental place was a walkable distance away, he told Diane not to bother following him in the Civic.
    He drove the five minutes down Murphy Street to the U-Haul place, then turned off the engine and got out. The young guy at the counter wore a grease-stained shirt and was engrossed in a copy of the Hemisphere Confidential Report . Winston cleared his throat, and after several seconds, the guy put the broadsheet down and looked up. His eyes were yellow and rheumy, and his sparse brown hair was plastered to his skull with sweat.
    “What kin I do fer ya?” he slurred. An invisible cloud of mint wafted over the counter, as if he’d been eating Altoids non-stop and was now sweating the aroma out of his pores.
    “I just need to return this van,” Winston said. The U-Haul guy stared for a few moments before turning to look at the moving van outside.
    “Ah-ight,” he said, and shambled in the direction of the back. “Gossum forms fer ya tasign.” He moved like an old man, shuffling his feet across the tiled floor instead of picking them up, his posture slightly stooped, though he looked only to be in his late twenties. Winston followed him into the back office and sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair. The rheumy U-Haul guy puttered around, looking under papers and moving aside boxes. “Knowiss roun dear somere.” He edged around Winston’s seat and Winston could hear a cardboard box being lifted and put back down.
    “Ah,” the guy said. “Herewego.”
    A blinding pain exploded behind Winston’s eyes as something hard smashed into the back of his head. As he fell to the floor, a