Chapter Three
Argus didn't go see Madam Sylvia that day. Instead, he plodded through the afternoon, ripping through one box after another in a more and more mindless daze as the hours went by. Finally, without another word to anyone, he collected the package and slipped out the back door. He was not feeling especially sociable, as usual. He never had been the outgoing type. Only recently had he come to recognize how awkward that could be. He floated through the crowds in a shell of his own, barely looking outward, barely seeing the world. He would arrive home and not really know where he had been along the way.
"Home,” he would think, "I guess you would have to call it that.”
It was a typical house in the gloom, its three bedrooms and "utility" room not nearly enough space for the six young people who lived there. Argus wasn't even sure how he'd ended up in that place. He'd answered some ads and visited some places, ending up there. Sometimes he wondered what they thought of him. He was the largest one there, at six foot two, two hundred and twenty five pounds, with shaggy long light brown hair and the faintest beginnings of growth on his chin, large brown eyes often displaying an expression like ocean-worn glass.
The others included two nearly interchangeable frat boys, Todd and Brian, and Seth, apparently a stoner, and two of their unlikely girlfriends, Todd's Maribel and Seth's Jolene. The first two of the men were in the earliest stages of promising careers. The women were entrepreneurs, and it was really their house, from which they had started and still ran their catering business. They were determined to succeed but in the meantime required some help with the rent. Argus was certain he would not be there long. He felt completely out of place, even more there than at the store. His whole new lifestlye adventure was coming to seem like a giant mistake, but he had no other ideas. He had always lived there, in the same Spring Hill Lake, a city without any character. He was born there, grew up there, went to college there too, all that time living in the same house with his largely invisible parents and his older brother, Alex.
Five years older, Alex had moved along a long time before, leaving Argus alone, really alone in that house. He almost never saw his parents, almost never talked to them. They were there, all that time, but each one going his own way, minding his own business, never really a family. His mother and father hardly spoke to each other so it was hardly surprising they had even less to do with their son, who was never much of a talker, anyway. He had a been a bright child, quiet but perceptive, but all along the way, through school after school, through phases of youth, adolescence, into adulthood, he'd become more and more distant, more and more silent, more and more deadened and dulled. Depression. He knew that's what it was. It seemed normal, however, not something to change or to expect to be changed. He had become adjusted and accustomed to what he called 'his way'.
Arriving home, he slipped into his room, which was conveniently just inside the front door, to the left. His roommates often didn't know whether he was home or not, and most of them didn't even care. Jolene, however, who considered herself the founder and therefore the head of the household, was always on the alert. From her post in the kitchen, way in the back of the house, she could sense his arrival, and had lately decided to make an effort to penetrate his stillness. Her friend Maribel was offended by Argus' aloofness and was simply hoping that he'd go away. She preferred the liveliness of Brian and Todd, or even the simple friendliness of Seth, who at least had the common courtesy to say 'hey' and 'goodbye' and 'how are you'.
"I don't know why you bother,” she called after Jolene, who was heading up the hall with a chocolate cupcake.
"Everybody needs somebody,” Jolene replied to herself.
She thought of Argus as like a little brother, even though he towered over her. She gently pushed his door open and saw him seated at the little table he used for a desk. He had opened the package and once again arrayed its contents, but he was looking out the window at the quiet side street they faced.
"I thought you might like this,” Jolene said quietly, and approached with the cupcake. Argus turned and looked up at her with a failed attempt at a smile. His arm felt heavy as if he could hardly lift it to accept the offering. He didn't. Jolene came closer and placed it on the table.
"That's quite a collection,” she said. "From your childhood?"
"What?" Argus murmured, "Oh, this stuff. No. It isn't mine, or it wasn't, or maybe it still isn't. Somebody gave it to me. I don't know why"
"Somebody you know?" she asked
"No, no,” it felt like effort to say, "A stranger. At the bus stop. It's strange"
"Wow,” Jolene was impressed. "That's so unusual. I wonder what it means. Do you have any idea?"
"No,” he said, "I really haven't thought about it much. I've just been carrying it around as if I was doing something I'm supposed to. I should've just thrown it in the garbage"
"Oh no,” Jolene said. "You couldn't do that. Not without trying, at least"
"Trying what? It's just some random old junk some crazy old guy pushed into my hands."
"What if it's not?,” she said. She was still standing beside the table, and now she was leaning over, trying to get a better look at the scraps of paper and the pile of photos and the toys. "What if he meant it for you, for a reason?"
"I never saw him before.”
"He might have seen you. Or somebody else might have put him up to it."
"I hadn't thought about that,” Argus said. They were silent for a few moments. Jolene began to feel like the intruder she was.
"Well, don't throw it away,” she said, backing out towards the door. "And I'd be glad to help,” she continued, "if you want, that is. It's none of my business I know but, I like puzzles, and sometimes I'm even good at them."
"Okay,” Argus said. He was just waiting for her to leave, although he didn't want her to. "Oh, and thanks for the cupcake"
"You're welcome,” she said, as she made her way out of the room, and gently closed the door behind her.
"Did he say anything?" Maribel quizzed her upon her return to the kitchen.
"Uh-huh,” said Jolene. "He even said thanks"
"Well, you never see that every day,” Maribel shrugged, but she was ready to get back to business. They'd had a call from a customer that morning and there was plenty of work to be done.