Unlikely

THREE

After work I head to the alley to retrieve my broken bike, hoping it is still there. It isn't worth much but you never know what people will steal these days. I hadn't been fired or even given a first notice. I suspect it was the new medical card. I hadn't wasted any time whipping that out. I am tired of moving from one thankless job to another, I want some sense of stability, something that will provide a regular income without asking too much from me in return.

My bike is right where I'd left it, the mangled chain snaking off in a wavy line like it's trying to get away. It is a long walk home but I need my tools before I can fix the chain, especially since part of it seems to be bent and broken in two. I wonder how that had happened, the crash I assume. Some of the details from the other night are somewhat fuzzy.

Once home I am met with some concerned fuzzy faces and not a few comments about my irregular habits lately. Cats prefer a regular schedule, same thing every day at the same time. I try to explain but cats can be somewhat single minded, especially when it comes to feeding times. I lay out food bowls for everyone, give scratches and proceeded to fix my bike. The chain is a mess, twisted in some spots as though a great hand had reached down from the heavens and tried to yank it away, like a robber with a fine pearl necklace. I get it passably straight and connected, enough to get me moving anyway. The Underside has a junk yard I can harvest from if Frank is in a good mood. First, though, I need to go to the Y for a soak or my scales will start to split.

I am in luck and the health club is dark. I don't know or care why they have closed early. I sneak through the back fence and jump to the broken window. This leads to a storage room that I doubt anyone ever visits. Dust coats everything. From there it is a short jaunt to the pool. I've taken extra salt today, something about chlorine counteracts the salt in my body so I always have to ingest a lot more when I come here.

The water is dark with all the lights off, a liquid pool of black space. I suppose another person might have been put off by this but I can see just fine in the dark. Since the accident, hardly anything looks spooky to me anymore. I strip down and lower myself in, sinking to the bottom. I watch as bubbles rise and dance to the surface. One, maybe two mild convulsions later and I have a fin down my back and webbed extremities. I glide through the water and revel in the feel of it against my scales. There is a peace down here in the silence of underwater that I can find nowhere else.

Fully hydrated, I bike to the enormous culvert that marks one of the entrances to the Underside. The rusted sheet metal is just for show, it actually moves quite smoothly, the huge double doors glide on hidden rails and close behind with the pull of a lever. That was Frank's doing. He is a self diagnosed crotchety dwarf and rules over all things metal or stone. He can be a bit touchy and bartering with him can rankle the nerves but if you need something metal fixed he's your guy.

"Varmint, what brings you here today?" The big red beard is as unwashed as ever but at least there isn't any food sticking out.

"Hey Frank. How they hang'n." I swing my bike around so he can see the issue.

"Draggn' low, same as ever. Let's see what'cha got." Frank peers at the chain and shakes his head. "Hell happened boy? It looks stretched out, like a slinky with no gumption." He shakes his woolly head in disbelief. "I got one that'll fit. Want me to fix'er up for ya?" Frank is also a shrewd business man.

"Well...." I try to look unsure, as though weighing my options.

"Only askn' one tiny favor. Not a problem for an Upper like you."

"I don't know." I hedge. What on earth could he want this time. It was always something strange. For the bike he'd asked for a toaster, two tv antenna and a case of beer. The beer I understood. The toaster and the antenna?