Unexpectedly, Milo - Matthew Dicks [6]
He had always been good at pretending that nothing was wrong. Expert, in fact.
So began the tradition of a walk following their run, and what Milo considered to be the beginning of the end.
Even with the weeks of preparation, Milo couldn’t help but feel a little depressed each time he entered the apartment and was faced with its spartan furnishings. The lamps that he had purchased at the tag sale were sitting on the floor, flanking a sagging futon that Milo had rescued from the basement during the move. Opposite the futon was a television perched upon one of the four wooden chairs from the battered kitchen table, which he had also removed from the basement. DVDs were stacked neatly beside the chair in alphabetical order, with Sigourney Weaver’s first two Alien films (the rest were an abomination) on top and the X-Files boxed set (all nine seasons for just $124.99) on the bottom. Though he and Christine had purchased a number of movies as a couple, both had brought a collection of their own films to the marriage as well, and Milo had extricated his DVDs during the move. He had also taken about two dozen other movies that he had received as gifts or were films that he knew Christine would never want to see again, including the Matrix trilogy, Hoosiers, all six Star Wars films, and the first seven seasons of The Simpsons.
He had anticipated many lonely nights in the apartment until he and Christine settled their differences, and he had wanted to be ready to fill his time as best he could.
Milo ate a silent dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches off a paper plate before taking the time to examine the camera more closely. It was a Panasonic, similar to one owned by his friend Andy, with a small fold-out display screen for recording and viewing previously recorded material. The battery attached to the camera indicated a nearly full charge, and there was no tape loaded.
In the nylon bag, Milo found an extra battery, a charger, and fourteen tapes, each conveniently numbered with a black felt-tip marker. He removed the tape marked “#1” and placed it into the camera. After a moment of fumbling for the right switch, he managed to get the tape to play. The screen was blank for several moments, and then a woman’s face filled the frame and began speaking.
Things would never be the same.
chapter 2
“So you stole it?” the elderly woman in the wheelchair asked as Milo reached for the rake.
“I told you, Edith. I didn’t steal it. It was sitting there for two days.”
“My husband, Ed Marchand, used to say that if you don’t earn the money, you don’t get the honey. That was his way of keeping me from using my credit cards, but the rule applies here too, I think.”
Milo sighed. Even though conflagration continued to burn in his mind at an ever-increasing rate, Edith Marchand had a way of distracting him from these inexplicable demands like no other. “Edith, gimme a break or you’re going to do this yourself,” he said without conviction, motioning to the rake and then to the living room carpet. “Besides, I told you that I was going to try to find the owner.”
Edith laughed as Milo pulled the rake through the maroon shag that stretched across the spacious living room. Even though he knew that it was at his expense, Milo loved to listen to the old lady cackle. In fact, it was essentially what he was paid to do. Although the needs of his clients varied greatly, his ultimate responsibility was to keep each one of them as happy and as healthy as possible while their bodies and minds slowly but surely betrayed them.
“You’re just trying to find the owner because you saw her on that tape,” Edith said. “If you hadn’t found those tapes, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought.”
Milo couldn’t disagree. Though seeing the woman in the video had played at least a small role in his decision to seek her