The Gum Thief Read Free Page A

from behind me, a woman's voice said, "I bet you like animals." 1turned around and there was Joan, with a Jack Russell on a leash straining to sniff curb side newspaper boxes.
    "Huh?"
    "Animals. I bet you talk to animals all the time, whenever you see them. Like right here, right now."
    She was the same age as me, but without the mileage. She looked like Jane, from the Dick and Jane books, grown up, apple-cheeked, healthy and itching to correct my grammar. She saw that I was maybe a disaster, and yet she approached me. She began our dance together. I looked at her dog, Astro. "Hey there, boy. Yeah, I do love animals." I scratched him behind his ears. "Why would your mistress be telling me that?"
    "Why?" she asked. "Because people who talk to animals are people who are easily disinhibited. Certain situations take them out of themselves-talking to animals, or talking to fortune tellers. A fortune teller gives you permission to relax and not keep everything plugged up. You can tell them anything. And once it's over, back in goes the plug and you feel better for having vented." "You heard her?" "I couldn't help it. Young Astra here had to do his
business and I had to wait." "She saw you there, listening, the whole time?" "Yup." "And you still want to talk to me?" Brendan indeed had red hair, and Zoe is left-handed. But I've never gone to Mexico, never will.

Bethany (for real)
    Sparrows!

Sparrows are everywhere!
At McDonald's! On the park benches! On branches!
    Roger, what a complete loser you are for leaving your diary in the coffee room. As if people weren't going to find it, let alone me. I'm totally creeped out by your description of me and my mother and my life. Creeped out to the point where I could get you fired. But that would mean acknowledging you in a way that would fit too neatly into your self-described loser profile. I can hear it now: That caustic little slut got me fired because I wrote about her black lipstick. You talked about my body, Roger-and what I felt like being inside my body. What kind of perv are you?
    But the bit about the sparrow was nice, I have to admit. And I've actually seen birds yawn before, but then I think of you staring at me at a bus stop staring at sparrows and I get creeped out. BTW, you saw me at a bus stop and drove by when you could have driven me to work? Nice one.
    And what's with you stealing all my comments about birds and biology? We have to talk about something in the staff room-besides Darrell and Raheed and Shawn bitching about customers, especially the needy ones in Hand-Helds & PDAs. Customers are all the same. They're all little children. I hate children. Children are like small brain-damaged adults with no attention spans and no capacity for conversation. Children should be sent away to school until they turn twenty-one and can speak normally. Darrell, Raheed and Shawn should also be sent away until they learn to speak properly, but that'd be age eighty-four, if ever. Man, their bitching drives me nuts. And how dare Shawn tell you about the spit on my locker in grade twelve!
    And don't think I didn't notice that last Thursday you got yourself transferred from Laser Printers into stocking the bond paper so you could drink while you work. I was in the staff room, and I gagged on a saltine cracker and reached for your water bottle, which was on the counter, and got a mouthful of vodka. Yes, you're in winner territory, Roger. And I heard you sold some geek $5K worth of computer crap and forgot to tell him it wouldn't work on Macs. Chris had to stay late and process the returns, and he cursed your existence for an hour.
    I'm sorry people in your life seem to have died or left you or something. So I won't be a total witch here. And two kids-really? Because, Roger, you can barely knot a tie onto one of your semi-washed shirts every morning, so I have to wonder if your kids get fed properly.
    That was mean. Sorry. Shawn says you live alone.
    My mother-you make her sound like a