Covet Thy Neighbor

hallway. “Hey. Move it, roadblock.”
    “He’s okay.” Darren knelt, holding out his hand. “Hi, kitty.”
    Stanley glared at him for a moment, but then came toward him. He sniffed Darren’s hand—audibly, thanks to his smooshed nose—and then bumped his head against Darren’s fingers.
    “I think he likes you,” I said.
    “He seems like a nice cat. I’m assuming his name isn’t really Roadblock?”
    “No. Stanley.”
    “Hi, Stanley.” Darren petted him, which instantly made him Stanley’s best friend in the universe. The cat walked in circles with his tail straight up, purring loudly. “You are friendly, aren’t you?”
    “Until he earns your trust.” I started lacing up my other boot. “He’s lucky I don’t believe in declawing, I’ll tell you.”
    “Yeah?” Darren laughed.
    Stanley flopped over on his back, paws outstretched and belly exposed.
    “Oh, don’t fall for that,” I said. “If you want to keep your hand, I wouldn’t.”
    “Duly noted.” To Stanley, Darren said, “I’d like to keep my hand, buddy. Sorry.” He scratched behind Stanley’s ear, which earned him a swat. Then Stanley got up and stormed away before crouching beside the bookcase, scowling at both of us.
    “Told you,” I said.
    “He’s a cat.” Darren shrugged. “I wouldn’t expect any less. Anyway, I’ll go get the sandwiches.”
    He went into the kitchen, and I exchanged glances with Stanley. I had a soft spot for guys who liked animals. Especially cats. Especially my cantankerous, unpredictable cat. Something about a guy who’d talk to an animal, stop and pet it rather than keep walking, just got to me.
    Once my boots were on, the cat was fed, and our lunches were in the backpack, we headed out of my apartment. Downstairs, I tossed the backpack behind the driver’s seat, we climbed into my truck, and I drove us out of Tucker Springs and up into the foothills just beyond the edge of town.
    “So, is there actually a spring?” Darren asked.
    “Not one that’s worth visiting. My friend calls it Tucker Mud Puddle.”
    He chuckled. “A bit anticlimactic?”
    “Just a bit. The only time it’s actually worth seeing is usually when the snowmelt has the river so high, half the trails get washed out. It’s cool to see, but not when you have to risk your neck just to get out to it.”
    “So what is worth seeing out there?”
    “Depends on what you like.” I rested one hand on top of the wheel and the other on the gearshift as the highway wound into the heavily forested hills. “There’s some waterfalls, a few historic sites here and there. Stuff like that. I kind of prefer the places where you see more animals.”
    “Really? I didn’t realize you were a critter person.”
    I smiled. “I think I’m sometimes more of an animal person than a people person.”
    “I’ve noticed that about a lot of people who have cats. Something about antisocial creatures being attracted to each other.”
    “I’m not antisocial,” I said with mock indignation. “I just . . . sometimes need to not be around people.”
    “And instead prefer the company of a creature that also likes to not be around people?”
    “Hey, Stanley’s friendly.” I chuckled at Darren’s skeptical expression.
    “He’s a cat, Seth,” he said. “Even the friendly ones have an evil streak.”
    “Okay, fine, so he’s an asshole. But I still like him. Even if he does shed all over everything I own.”
    Darren laughed.
    “And you two seemed to get along pretty well, too,” I said. “So there.”
    “I like animals too, what can I say?”
    Yes, I know you do. Bastard.
    I tapped my fingers on top of the gearshift. “Well, if you want to see some critters, I know a really good trail.”
    “Sounds perfect. Lead the way.”
    About fifteen minutes later, I parked in the gravel lot beside the trailhead. Being a weekday and still a bit early in the year for tourists, there wasn’t another car in sight. My favorite hiking conditions: deserted.
    I pulled the backpack onto my shoulders, and we started our hike. As the trail sloped gently upward, I said, “This part gets a little technical. If you need some ropes or oxygen tanks—”
    “Very funny,” he muttered.
    We followed the winding, well-worn path into the woods. It wasn’t terribly steep, mostly wrapping around the smallish mountain rather than taking us straight to the top. The day was cool but comfortable. Early spring meant some of winter’s briskness still stuck