Page 54 of Sparrow

Orion’s part of the house isn’t cluttered, exactly, but it is full of personality. It’s not tidy by any means, but it is intentional. There are books stacked in the hallway. That single shoe still sits in the middle of the space, lonely without its mate. The floors are clean but they’re not sparkling, and I wonder whether he keeps it this way on purpose. Just enough clutter to keep people afraid of touching anything.

Then I find the office, which is so orderly it makes my eyes hurt.

This room is absolutely packed with papers, boxes, suitcases, and an old hobby horse, and everything is fit together like puzzle pieces. Box after box lines one wall, bookshelves cover a second, and the wall opposite me holds odds and ends that must not have fit anywhere else.

What the fuck is all of this?

I venture in on my tip toes, too aware that he probably doesn’t want anyone in here, and run gentle fingers along a box to my right. I don’t want to open it up, don’t want to invade his privacy by looking at his private things, but just touching it makes my skin come alive.

This is where Orion keeps his past. This is where he keeps himself.

I wonder how he got all of this up from the city. I don’t know why, but I didn’t get the feeling that he was living well when Mars found him, and this stuff seems like it would have taken up an entire storage facility.

I breathe out slowly, letting my eyes run around the room in curiosity and something that feels like awe. Inside those boxes, Orion has secrets and a past, and something in my heart is desperate to know where he came from and what he had there.

What battles he fought to get out and come to Wood.

But I’m just as certain that it’s not my place.

And I care about him too much to try.

I turn and leave the room as carefully as I came in, and close the door quietly behind me, suddenly sorry that I thought I should snoop on these men at all. They’ve been nothing but kind to me and here I am rifling through their secrets like I have a right to them.

I won’t do it again.

I don’t like the sticky feeling it’s left on my skin.

I turn back toward the garage, desperate for the real-life men rather than the echoes of their pasts.

“Why is it all so disorganized?” I ask, staring into the garage. The place is filthy, the floors in need of a mop and the walls covered in cobwebs. It’s also set up in a way that doesn’t make any sense. Men are running all over the place, grabbing one or two tools here and there and then heading back to whatever project they’re working on. It’s cluttered at best and inefficient at worst, and my engineering mind is tying itself in knots trying to solve it.

Rookie snorts. “It’s not disorganized. You just don’t understand the system.”

“So explain it to me.”

He shrugs, then starts pointing. “The tools are over there. Except specialty tools, which are over there. Standard stuff–hammers, screwdrivers, nails, and the like–are all along that wall. So you just go to the section you need and get what you want.”

“Okay but if you need tools from several different sections, that has you running all over the place,” I say. “And that’s a waste of time.”

Rookie pauses and chews his lip, digesting this. “Yeah but this is how Mars designed it.”

“Did he design it, though? Or did he start by putting everything in arm’s reach and just expand without a plan?”

More processing. More lip chewing. And then a sharp, conspiratorial grin. “You’re right, but don’t tell him I said so. In exchange I won’t tell him that you just called him inefficient.”

I gasp. “I didn’t call him inefficient!”

“You did, though. You said–”

“Rookie!” I shriek. “I never said that!”

She’s giggling now though, and I suddenly realize that he’s not serious. He’s fucking teasing me, riling me up for no reason. While making fun of Mars.

I sock him gently in the arm, giving him a mock serious face. “That’s not funny.”

“Oh but it is,” he says. “You should have seen your face! Anyhow, I think you’re right. But Mars has never let me reorganize anything.”

I look at him thoughtfully, then turn to the garage itself. Mars and Orion have been taking care of me since I got here, and I know it hasn’t been easy. Hell, last night Orion ran all the way back from the festival with me in his arms, and though I still think he was crazy not to just take a car, the fact remains that I owe him.