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Sam ought to be a gymnast, given the way he constantly bent over backwards to help others. He genuinely, genuinely wanted to help. But, god was he so exhausted from it. His literal—and metaphorical—back ached.
The apartment was a mess. The kids were sobbing. Somebody got locked in the bathroom. Music was blaring from his old bedroom. Everyone was hungry. There was no money for groceries because he just spent it all on overdue rent. AND, TO TOP IT ALL OFF. Some random asshole kept banging on the front door.
Sam clutched the doorknob, yanking it open with such ferocity that it took the chain guard with it. Please, please be a violent monster waiting on the other side; any excuse to start a fight. It was just a dweeby teen. Sam straightened his shoulders and relaxed his face, attempting to hide his zeal for violence.
The teen spoke up, pitch wavering. “Hey. I got your order of…” he paused before unfurling a greasy receipt, “…a Meat Lover’s, a Mushroom Madness, a Veggie Supreme, and a Queen of Cheese pizza.”
Dope. Except Sam didn’t order a pizza. Couldn’t afford to.
“Um…just a moment.”
Sam snapped his head back inside. The adults in the living room went silent, focused on the potential intrusion. Sam eyed the kids, still sobbing and pulling each other’s hair. Not a speck of guilt on anyone’s face. No crank callers under this roof, it seemed. He locked eyes with Dan, who happened to glance up from his phone. Dan raised a brow, knowing he’d been put on the spot.
Sam whisper-yelled to him, “Did you—???”
Dan’s teeth gleamed an anxious smile, “Huh?” “Did I what?”
Sam paused, this situation had to be handled delicately. Lest the children find even more reason to cry. He started exaggerating his facial expressions, while making no sound.
Did. you. order. a. pizza?
Dan caught the hint. He mouthed a few words back.
Me? Order. Pizza? Noooooo. Why?
Sam waved his hand dismissively. Never mind.
O. K.
Sam swiveled his head back out the door. The smell of sizzling pepperoni, oregano, and cheese slapped him across the face. It was too enticing. He couldn’t possibly say no and turn that poor guy away.
“Mmmm…Yep! That’s my order. Give me a moment to find my wallet. How much do I owe you?”
The guy un-crumpled the receipt once again, “Uhhhh…$67.33”
Ouch. That was a lot. Sam pushed through the pain, for the kids sake.
“Sure thing. Give me just a minute.”
Sam gently shut the door, wincing like he smacked his elbow. The music had faded, Xaria and Monty emerged from “their” bedroom.
“HEY! When’s dinner fuck-face?” Xaria blared out.
“Yeah! You’re gonna put a little apron on and cook for us?” Monty echoed.
Ughh. That attitude. It was a lot more abrasive now than when they first arrived. Was he really gonna let these insults slide?
He swallowed his anger, then casually spoke. “Food’s here. We just need to scrape the cash for it.”
“Ugh. Really? We had the money til you gave it to that parasite-landlord-shithead. Why should we cough anything up?”
Sam smirked, then nudged the front door open. The smell of pizza filled the space. Its fresh-baked, saucy, cheesy goodness said it all.
“F-fine. How much?” Monty mumbled, trying not to drool.
“$67.33” the delivery boy chirped.
The adults grumbled. Sam’s voice rang out, “Everyone start looking! I know I got some spare change around here.” He hastily began rummaging through the cabinets.
Joel jumped up from the carpet in a Super Jumplad fashion.
“HHHHHFF. I left my piggy bank at home, let me grab it.”
He waddled over to the front door, struggling to squeeze past the delivery guy. The teen was caught in a daze, unaware of the child’s prodding. Joel had almost pushed through a small gap before Hellen snagged him by a belt loop. The child floated helplessly as she hauled him over to the dining table.
“Let the adults handle this.” She declared gruffly, whilst placing Joel in a chair. It was a swift, but delicate motion. She pointed to the other kids, “You two sit. Now.”
They obliged.
Hellen grabbed a $10 bill from her back pocket and firmly placed it at the center of the table. Her eyes followed each person in the room, setting a clear precedent. A big relief for Sam. He hated asking for money like this. The household could (and would) judge him all day long for his requests, but very few dared to challenge Hellen.
Xaria grinned like she had a smart quip to add, but kept silent (the actual smart decision) and dumped her boot over the table. Scattering $3.00 and some odd change across the surface. Monty popped open the false bottom of a dynamite stick which contained a roll of quarters worth $10.00 in total. He stood it at the center of the pile. Leigh turned out her rags. Zilch. Ernest shuffled his coat, reaching into various pockets before Colonel Squeakums snatched three large coins from a busker’s hat. Each one worth a dollar.
Morton slowly unwrapped his collection of coins and other oddities. He placed them on the kitchen counter, piece by piece. The pennies were the only thing he was willing to part with.
Morton’s voice rang out, slow and scratchy. “Eh…one…two…three…”
The masked shadow quietly offered a $100 bill…in the wrong currency. Papineau shook his head and kindly explained the issue. He produced a crisp $5.00 bill, showed the creature, then laid it flat on the table. The shadow glanced between the two currencies, before finally putting away its rejected gift. One roach emerged from the bathroom offering a $5.00 bill. By this point, Sam found $12.33 of miscellaneous change in a forgotten coffee mug. Already forty dollars closer. Just a little more to go.
Morton droned on, “Hmm… Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.”
A woman’s voice rang through, “Sam! Over here! Is this enough for a slice?” Sybil wedged a rare two-dollar bill between the crack in the wall. Sam graciously accepted it into the pile.
“Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty. Thirty-“
Monty hollered, “THIRTY-THREE! Huh huh huh.”
“Thirty…Thirty-three? Ehh…No wait…Where was I? Hmph… One. Two. Three…”
Dan rolled his eyes then thumbed out $12.50 from his wallet.
“That’s 62.83, so far!” Sophie barked. The other kids propped themselves up, watching the money pile grow. Sam dug his arm underneath the couch, feeling for loose change.
Xaria shouted, “Who’s left? Speak up now!”
“Thirty-four. Thirty-five. Thirty-six…”
Monty aimed his bat at the candy red vending machine in the corner. “You! Bevy, how’s about it? Cough up some coins.”
Sam bumped his head on the coffee table on the way up. “Another $3.46 here…and…excuse you? Monty, do not harass Audrey like that.”
Monty huffed, lowering his bat. Sam should’ve made him apologize directly to her. Or, at the very least Sam could’ve consoled Audrey, but he was too preoccupied with the math. He also wasn’t ready to sacrifice a dollar for her input; not until the meal was fully paid for.
Sam placed his change in the pile. Xaria leaned over, “That’s $66.29. Come on! Just a little bit more.”
The room watched Morton impatiently. Still going at his own pace, neatly stacking each penny into piles. No one dared to step-in, fearing they’d reset the counting process or forfeit the money altogether.
“Hurry it up, geezer…” Xaria muttered under her breath.
“Fifty-seven…Ehhhhh… Fifty-eight…”
Either that man was really struggling to count or he really liked how the words rolled off his tongue. Neither reason would’ve been satisfactory. The smell of pizza had enveloped the entire space, with fumes that made the party delirious. Ernest finally broke the tension, “Hooo-ee fellas! I can practically taste that pizza.”
Rat baby tapped the table rhythmically. “Piiiizza. Za. Za. Za.”
Morton made a shrill clicking noise, cutting down the chatter. “Sixty-one! Eh…Hmm…Sixty-one copper coins I have procured and am now passing onto you…Yes.”
The room let out a collective sigh along with a “fuckin’ finally” from an unnamed source. Papineau slid the pile of pennies over to the money pot.
“Very expeditious of you. Thank you.”
“W-we jusffff need fourty-fhree more cents Mr. Sam!” Joel whistled.
Monty cackled, “C’mon Audrey! Show us the money!”
Xaria and Monty slammed the table, chanting. Sophie immediately joined in, followed by the other two kids. Dan and Ernest chimed in too.
“Audrey. Audrey. Audrey!”
Sam intervened, “Hey, I already said she doesn’t have—“
The chanting only got louder, drowning out his concern. A heavy creak quieted the entire room. The soda machine shuffled, then stood. Sam watched her carefully. Her feet slightly wobbly. Was she nervous or excited? Probably both. She seemed like the kind of gal that enjoyed being the center of attention at parties. In her newly acquired form, however, not so much.
Audrey tilted her frame sideways, with a couple of flicks. As if knocking water out her ear. A series of coins jostled in response. She then leaned forward. Unfamiliar with her new center of gravity, tipped too far forward. Sam gasped. Audrey flung out an arm for balance, but it wasn’t enough to stop her fall. Hellen jumped forward and caught Audrey’s arm just in time.
Hellen made the motion look effortless, but her flexed biceps said otherwise. Coins shifted once again. With Hellen’s support, Audrey leaned back to stand straight. Followed by a quick sway of her hip to the left. The movement and jingle of coin made her look like a belly dancer. She added in one hop for good measure. Coins clattered, traversing a hidden space. Until finally depositing into the soda can pick-up slot.
“AYYYYYYYYYYYY!Y!Y!Y!Y!Y”
“JACKPOT, BABY!”
“WHAT’D WE WIN? WHAT’D WE WIN?”
Sam gently reached in, collecting the money.
“$8.25!”
The room roared. That was more than enough to cover the costs and pay tip. That poor guy deserved it considering how long he’d been waiting. Sam exchanged the money for the four boxes of pizza, “Here you go. Keep the tip!” The delivery guy was stoked; he offered warm good-bye before setting out.
With dishes set and pizza boxes open, the household dug into their meal. The party’s ravenous hunger brought momentary tension to the table as the first slices were divvied. Any sign of hostility was tempered under Hellen and Papineau’s guidance. The kids got first choice, followed by the adults. It was a coordinated effort, but everyone managed to get at least two slices in, including Sybil. Everyone was surprisingly well-mannered too. Except the Masked Shadow, who openly dissected its slice, unraveling the stringy cheese and inspecting each topping meticulously before throwing it down the hatch with a loud CRUNCH. Sam felt kinda…bad? Poor pizza. Most everyone was too distracted by the Shadow’s surgical operation on pizza to notice of the extra slices Monty had swiped.
Sam made a point to clean up the dishes after dinner. Despite contributing so much during the mad rush for money, it was his fault for putting his friends in this financial trouble to begin with. Upon drying the last plate a realization hit.
Ah shoot.
He’d forgotten to save enough spare change to converse with Audrey. Sam tapped her side, one of her eyes morphed into view.
“Thank you. And, I owe you. Got it?”