Raincheck Read Free Page B

money he’d left under the box.
     
    The note from David would make a nice bookmark.
     

     

     
    Apartment 14 C proved to be an interesting apartment from Rodney’s point of view. The Freemont was an old building, built back in the early 1920s. Rodney himself had been shipped over from England, from an even older building, to form part of the rainspout system. He shuddered briefly at the memory of waking up in a packing crate and the moment of panic when he’d had to decide whether to break out or wait and see where he ended up. He was glad now he’d chosen to wait it out. The Freemont was a nice building, and the neighborhood had been an interesting place in its heyday.
     
    The Freemont was thirty stories high, large for its time, and had one main tower and two smaller side towers. Apartment 14 C was essentially a penthouse apartment for the east tower, and as such, was a compact, studio-style living space. It was also one of two apartments that boasted skylights. It was easy enough to wait until full darkness and glide down to the lower level, landing on the wall just above the glassed-in roof, to get a bird’s-eye view into David’s apartment.
     
    The sheer number of books within made his fingers curl with longing, so strong was the desire to caress the bindings and fold himself into a chair for an evening of reading. He’d never heard of so many books in one place outside a bookstore or library, and he’d only ever seen those collections from the outside of a window looking in as well. He liked to picture himself sitting comfortably in the overstuffed chair, reading by the hour while David sat across from him doing the same. He often created elaborate fantasies about himself and David sharing meals, watching television, playing games of chess.
     
    Don’t be stupid, he frequently told himself, usually when the first pale streaks of dawn lit the morning sky, and he had to hurry back to his pedestal before dawn actually broke. No one knew exactly what would happen to a gargoyle who failed to return to his base before daylight; no one had ever heard from anyone who had failed. Fred, over at the library, had theorized that the hapless gargoyle would turn to dust and blow away with the wind. He’d talked about it a lot until one day, Fred didn’t return in time. Rodney always believed that it had been a deliberate choice on Fred’s part. Fred had been old, older than any of the other gargoyles that Rodney had known, and increasingly bitter. He was without wings as well; he’d been on an even shorter leash than most of Rodney’s kind.
     
    There aren’t many of us left, he thought as he took up his position outside David’s windows that evening. So many buildings were being torn down, and no one was commissioning gargoyles anymore. No one seemed to know why only one gargoyle per building would transform into a living, breathing being each night, but the general consensus was that their days as a species were numbered. It had never really bothered Rodney before. Something about David, however, brought out a longing in him for things he didn’t understand, things he’d never known that he needed. Things he’d only ever read about.
     
    Watching David move about his apartment was like watching a play, Rodney thought. No, more like television. Rodney had hidden in the catwalk of a theater to watch Phantom that one magical night. Sometimes he could still feel the music swirling and vibrating within him. He’d only seen television through the windows of other people’s homes—bright pictures with muted sound telling stories he only partially understood.
     
    He often felt that way when watching David.
     
    David was cooking the Asian noodles in the brown broth again, which made Rodney’s mouth water whenever he smelled it. David seemed to make that meal a lot, often varying it by the addition of chopped vegetables. He used to eat mostly out of those little cardboard boxes that Rodney knew to be takeout, but