“Eoghan.” The way he speaks my name usually tells me what he wants to talk about but now I only somewhat sense the idea of a question in his tone. I turn away from the little shed I was digging through to look at him, my head tilted somewhat to the side.
He nods towards the little shovel I’ve brought out of the shed and I blink in question. At times I swear we could have conversations like these without sharing a single word and that without even the use of my gift since, to me, that counts as talking and using words.
“You’re not going to try and dig up treasure again, are you?” He sounds vaguely amused, I think, I’m not entirely sure. His words confuse me and I think it must show on my face because he rolls his eyes and he laughs softly. “I find it hard to think you might have forgotten that one. I don’t recall if it was you or Quentin who found that little map and all four of us ended up out there in the woods, you two digging away. You got sick.”
I think it’s the mention of me getting sick that brings the memory back to the surface. I do recall how there had been a map not even a year ago. We’d gathered shovels and we’d just dug and dug. Of course we hadn’t found anything. My cheeks warm in a blush when I think back to the fact that yes, I got sick and Lex just used his very hands on technique to make sure I would sweat all of the bad out. It had worked, I’d slept late the following morning but I was mostly clear of the fever. It had felt good though I admit my memory of the night before that is a little hazy.
“Nope, not digging for treasure, I’m just looking through. Some of these things are really old and I figured it might have been time to replace them. That’s all.” He looks me over for good measures, maybe to make sure I’m not hiding another pirate treasure map somewhere on my person and I just chuckle as he does. I know he trusts me, he only does this for show. I see no harm to it and neither does he, really.
“I guess that makes sense and this shovel is old, I’m not even sure if you’re the one who brought it in or if it came with me things.”
“Well the mower came with your things. And it’s dying, we should probably think about buying a new one.”
“We’ll think about it.” I know he does all of this just to amuse himself, those little moments of ‘I don’t know, we’ll think about it’. It doesn’t bother me, it leaves a little more to our relationship. I can’t imagine how things would be if we were constantly agreeing to what the other said without really giving it any thought at all.
So I go back to digging through the little shed. Off to one side we have the toys we’ve all placed back where they belong, all the games. Tennis rackets and balls, badminton stuff, a football, all black and white, jumping ropes and several other things. Just random stuff we’ve acquired over the years, mostly. To the other side there are all the tools we keep out for gardening and yard tending. I’m surprised this shed didn’t go to hell along with the rest of everything when Zora had her little wind-hissy fit. I’m glad though, a lot of what’s here is small and easily lost though I have to say we’re still finding bits and pieces of broken brick on the yard, it’s hell on the mower.
To the side I end up with the very old shovel, with a pick I can’t even recall ever seeing and one of those half-circle shaped tools that I don’t even know the use of. Lex looks it over and he shrugs. It might have been there before, the shed was an old building we mostly just fixed up, it already was on the yard when we had the warehouse done over.
We take those to the bin, settling them out next to it. I know someone might just come about and take off with those before the trash folks come to pick them up. We have one pair in particular who wander the streets just before trash day and they pick up anything that has metal content to it. I suppose it might sell well. I’ve seen them with old chairs and bed frames, old fridges and broken tools, so I know they mostly pick up everything and anything so long as it has metal. That’s fine by me.
I take note of what we threw out that we’ll need to replace. The shovel should be an easy replacement, the pick as well, the half-circle one I’ll have to ask at the store since I have no idea what its use is. If we have no use for it, there’s no point in replacing it, after all.
When we go back to the shed, I do the same on the side of the toys and games. I figure some of these are pretty old and might just break if we’re a little too rough on them and I don’t want to chance that. I’m careful with what I bring out, I’m not about to throw away stuff that still is in perfectly (or mostly so) good shape.
Lex is the one with the small notepad and he’s the one who jots down what I’m bringing out to throw away. It’s late in the season to be doing this, I’m aware. I suppose this is mid-summer cleaning that should have been done in spring but we had a lot more going on then and today is a quiet, mostly overcast day. The temperature is comfortable and doesn’t make me want to just flop somewhere under the AC vent and not move for the rest of the day.
Once I’m certain I’ve cleared out the old from the still usable, we gather it all up and that we drop directly into the bin itself. Most of it is wood and plastic, I don’t see how anyone could make use of any of it. I know that most of the wood stuff we could have essentially burned in the fire pit we have here in the yard but I don’t know how well it would have burned and if it would have smoked a lot or not. It’s not because we have no close-by neighbours, Quentin and Yael aside, that we should smoke up the surroundings with bad wood.
I leave Lex by the bin to head back to the shed, mostly just to close the door. As I do that much, a first drop falls on my arm and I look up to the sky with a startled note. I hadn’t expected rain. Plenty of clouds up there but they don’t look like the type to dump rain on us. I shrug it off, close the door as more drops of rain begin to fall. I laugh, amused more than anything else since I know rain won’t kill me and I head back up to meet with Lex who moved to stand beneath the little bit of overhang we have above the door.
I don’t know whether to be amused or just flat out glad that the downpour only happens moments after we’re both safe and mostly dry inside. I look out the glass door briefly and shake my head. I really hadn’t expected that, not that it hurts, water’s good for the ground, we haven’t really gotten much rain this summer, the grass has suffered a little bit for it.
Shaking my head, we both turn back and start to the elevator. We could take the stairs but it seems so much simpler to just take the moving box up to our floor where I’ll dry up and we’ll just settle to appreciate a daily bit of quiet.