Another man's shoes. (short story) (Patreon)

Sean opened the door to the stairs and there was Jason from apartment 36, carrying a bike on his shoulder. He was too close. There was no time to turn and head the other way. Sean smiled widely, but Jason was already looking down.

"Those are my shoes," Jason said. He put the bike against the wall and he stared down at Sean's feet. Sean looked down too. Brown leather shoes with dark laces, scuffed at the toe. "Those are my shoes," Jason said. "You went into my apartment?" He looked over his shoulder at apartment 36 and then back at Sean. 

"What?" Sean said. 

"You went into my apartment and took my shoes? Why my shoes?" 

"Are you high?" Sean said. He straightened his back. 

"The toe is worn in the exact same way." Jason took a step toward Sean. "Why would you steal my shoes and nothing else?" He was angry now and Sean stepped closer to the stairs. 

"I have to go," Sean said. But Jason followed him. He followed too closely. "Listen," Sean said. "What size are your feet?" Jason stood at the top of the stairs above him. 

"You went into my house," he said.

"These are twelve." Sean pointed. "You want to try one on? These aren't your shoes."

Jason's expression didn't change. Sean stepped down one more step.

"You know what?" Jason said. "I don't care. Take my shoes." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of change. "Here," he said. "You like stealing from people on welfare?" He threw the change at Sean, hard, and Sean turned his face away as the coins bounced off his head and the walls and floor. When he looked again, Jason was unlocking his apartment, glaring at him. Sean watched him push the bike inside, and slam the door. 

When he was sure that Jason wasn't coming out again, he went downstairs and around the long way back to Megan's. He let himself in. Megan looked up from the phone and Sean shook his head at her. He listened while she talked to her mother and he tried to get the details right in his head, so he could tell the story properly. 

He kicked the shoes off and put them in the closet with the other shoes. They were good shoes. They were comfortable and broken-in and they made Sean feel like he'd earned his place in the world. They made Sean feel honest.

Someone knocked at the door. Jason. 

"Give me back my shoes and I won't call the police," Jason said as soon as the door opened. Megan craned her neck to see who was at the door. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sean said. 

"I want them now," Jason said. "Or do you want me to come back with the cops?" 

"I don't..."

"Now," Jason said. Sean looked back at Megan, and she had put the phone down. She looked terrified. She nodded her head at Sean, and he turned back to Jason and held up a finger. 

"Give me a minute," Sean said. He closed the door and got the shoes from the closet. When he opened the door again, Jason grabbed the shoes from his hand.

"If anything else goes missing," Jason said. "I'm coming back." Sean just nodded. Jason looked down at his shoes and lifted the tongue to look at the size information. "You asshole," Jason said. He turned and walked away. 

Sean woke later to the sound of Megan showering. The anti anxiety pill had put him right under. The sun was down already. He climbed out of bed and pulled his jeans and shirt off. The bathroom wasn't steamy yet, but inside he could feel the heat from the shower itself as he pulled his underwear down. 

It occurred to him that he wasn't sure if the apartment was locked or not. He stepped back out into the dark and looked. It was.

In the bathroom again, he opened the curtain to join Megan in the shower and she screamed. It was a full scream that didn't stop when she saw it was him. She pulled her hand away when he tried to touch her to calm her down. The scream was loud, even louder in the bathroom. 

"It's me," Sean said. "It's me. Hey, it's me." She was crying and shaking from having been startled so badly. Sean pulled her close in the hot water. "It's me," he said. 

"I thought you were him," Megan said. 

"He got his shoes," Sean said. "He won't come back." 

It was later, when they were both in bed, that it occurred to him that nobody had come at the scream. Nobody had knocked to see if everything was all right. Nobody had called the police. 

In the morning there was a knock on the door. Sean put his eye to the peekhole and looked. It was Leanne, the lesbian from across the hall. He opened the door and smiled.

"Good morning," he said. 

"My leather jacket."

"I'm sorry?" Sean kept smiling. Megan came out of the bathroom, where Leanne couldn't see her. She shook her head no, and Sean shook his head at Leanne. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"Jason told us about his shoes," Leanne said. "I want my jacket. When I saw Megan wearing it at first I thought it was just a coincidence. Do you have our DVDs, too? My cactus?"

"No, I'm sorry." Sean closed the door on her, but she pushed it open again. 

"Don't you lie to me," Leanne said. Sean had to fight to close the door again. Megan put her weight into it, too. They got it locked, and in the hall, Leanne pounded it with her fist. 

"We won't have thieves in this building." She kicked the door. She kicked it again. Megan and Sean sat on the floor of their apartment, with their backs against the door, until Leanne gave up and went back to her apartment. Megan leaned her head on Sean's shoulder, and she took his hand.

Leanne left for work at three. They had her schedule written down with everyone else's. Sean stood with his feet on either side of the door, so that his shadow wouldn't show through the crack, and he watched her leave her apartment through the peekhole. Leanne locked the deadbolt and knob and stood in the hallway staring at Sean and Megan's apartment. Every day she left for work at three and came home after midnight.

When she was gone, Sean ran to the window to watch for her car. Megan was collecting all of Leanne's things by the door. 

"I can't find the cactus," she said. 

"It's in the bathroom."

"Which one is hers?"

Sean took the lockpick set from its hiding place in the burnt-out closet light fixture. He found the hook pick that was the best size for Leanne's apartment lock, and took a small turning tool. Then he checked the peekhole again. Nobody was around.

It took three minutes to pick the two locks, and then Sean and Megan carried all Leanne's belongings over in one trip. They placed the cactus on the window sill where they'd found it. The leather jacket went into the closet. The DVDs went back on the shelf, alphabetized. Sean put the small cat statue back on the dresser. 

When they were done, Megan stood at the closet door, running her fingers down the sleeve of the leather jacket. She pulled it off the coat hanger and slipped her arms into the sleeves. She turned the collar up and snarled at herself in the mirror.

"Do we have to leave it?" she said.

"You heard her this morning," Sean said. "She was going to kick our door in."

"I'd like to see her try something while I've got this jacket on," Megan said. She made her voice sound deep and she curled her lip again. "I could snap her like a twig," she said. Sean smiled and reached out to touch her shoulder.

"You could," he agreed. 

Megan took a pair of sunglasses off the dresser. They were aviator glasses, like a highway cop would wear. She unfolded them and put them over her eyes.

"Damn it," she said. "I liked being Leanne."