A single digit was all it took to save Bob’s life.

Had he known that, he never would have bothered to fly up to the usual meeting point. The last thing he would have wanted was to be dependent on chance. Yet there he was, getting closer and closer to the gambling ring. The day began a while ago, and the last of the old-timers were either asleep or had started their morning shifts. The gambling arena was finally empty.

Bob was the last to arrive to the gathering: every junior officer who had joined the Grand Patrol was expected to be there. They were all freshmen, and as such, there was a particular sense of comradery among them that seemed to get stronger with each day.

By the time Bob managed to join, they were already chatting and busy playing games. He knew today was an exceptionally good day the moment his claws touched the branch: a few objects were left from the senior gamblers. There were nights when nobody won at gambling, and senior officers never bothered to clean up their mess. Those were the best times to be alive.

Bob landed right next to Leona, a goddess with the flying skills of a rock. It was the first time Bob ended up sitting next to her, and he could barely recall her name. Chatting wasn’t something he enjoyed with strangers.

“Well, Bob, ready to gamble?” someone flapped energetically in his direction. Bob nodded without giving it to much thought. It was the main reason everyone was here.

“Which number?”

“10,” Bob replied.

A few freshmen threw their dice. No luck. Quite a few butterflies seemed to be disappointed.

Bob threw a quick look at the trash pile: on most days it was empty, but today there was a small tin can left over from the earlier gambling session. That was intriguing for everyone. Tin cans were full of surprises. Nobody had seen two identical ones.

“Why are you so late? You missed all the other goodies,” Leona suddenly turned to him. Bob was a bit annoyed at her presence: well, he was annoyed at anyone who wanted to know anything about him.

“I was busy,” he replied quickly and focused his eyes on the trash pile. It was the easiest way to end the conversation. At least Bob was hoping this was a strong enough signal.

“Busy? At night? Who are you trying to fool?” Leona replied in a childish manner that annoyed Bob even more. He stared intensely at the tin can, even though his eyes were tired from staying up all night.

“Bob, gimme another number!” the officer guarding the trash pile flapped. He was squatting right behind the can and had taken his duty a bit too serious. That was another typical thing for junior officers.

“22.”

A third round of dice went flying through the air, but none of them showed the number 22.

Bob sighed. Luck wasn’t on his side today. He reached for his pocket, but realized it was completely empty. His mind wasn’t as sharp as usual. Worst of all, he now had to try twice as hard to appear rested in front of that chatty nuisance. The last thing Bob needed were rumours.  

“I can help you out,” Leona whispered. Bob tried to restrain himself from punching her happy face. She reached in her own pocket and took out a short red wire.

“I won this in the first round. My lucky number was 5,” she flapped mysteriously, as if numbers had some sort of special meaning or pattern.

Bob nodded and took the wire. It was of good quality, probably used no more than 50 times. It might have been part of a washing machine at some point.

“I wonder why the officers left all this stuff here,” Bob caught himself flapping, but it was too late. Leona giggled at the attention he had finally shown her. He wanted to punch himself in the stomach.

“I was informed it was quite a night today. A civilian came and ruined the game,” Leona replied.

Bob froze just as he was about to get up and throw the red wire on top of the other trash. Something turned in his stomach, but he forced himself to toss the wire on the pile anyway. He then sat back down and tried to glance carelessly at the others. But Bob knew it was useless. Leona was not like him. Leona could read emotions.

He didn’t dare turn around; Bob knew he was going to be caught the moment he was even the slightest bit off guard. And in his current state that was a matter of times. He needed to do something before it was too late.

“A civilian?” he repeated, trying to appear only mildly intrigued. In the back of his mind, Bob wondered if he would have shown even that amount of interest under normal circumstances.

Leona giggled again, but this time there was something more sinister to the way she moved her body and neck.

“That’s right. Can you imagine? Not only that, a civilian in possession of private human objects!”

Bob nodded slightly, even though his heart was racing as if lightning had just struck one meter in front of him, killing everyone he had ever loved.

“A private object? That must have been quite a gambling night,” Bob added. He was dreading what might follow.

“Exactly! Even better, the object was underwear. The seniors were scared shirtless. One of them even went crazy and threw it back into the human realm to break the curse. Can you imagine?” Leona flapped and leaned closer to Bob.” It gets better still: the civilian was searching for someone.”

Bob’s wings twitched. He could feel Leona was enjoying this.

“When you think about it, most civilians know someone who works for the Grand Patrol. They must become aware of it at some point. She could have been looking for anyone.”

“She?”

“I assume it was a female. Females get lost easily, don’t they? I don’t know a single one who can find her way to this tree in less than an hour.”

Leona slapped him on the back with both wings; her eyes almost popped out of her head, and she flapped some angry jibber-jabber in his direction. Bob was relieved: his simple plan had worked. But it wasn’t going to stop Leona from poking around, that much he knew for sure. If only there was a way out of this situation.

“Anyway, when the Grand Patrol finds out who it was that gave a civilian human possessions, it’s over for them. I almost feel sorry for the poor soul.”

“Almost?” Bob asked. This was the first time he genuinely wanted to know the answer.

“Yes. How bad can you feel for someone who knowingly breaks the rules?”

Bob nodded with his eyes staring into nothingness.

“I feel sorry for them, too,” he mumbled.

“What kind of underwear do you think this civilian got a hold of? 18! How about you, Bob?”

“3,” he replied.

“Do you think it was a bra?”

“Female clothing? That’s ridiculous,” Bob replied dryly.

 The officer guarding the trash pile beamed for the first time this night. There was a clear winner.

“I guess it was your turn, Bob! Congrats! You win the tin can!” he flapped and tossed the can over to Bob. Leona giggled at the stiff way Bob caught the can.

“I hope you plan to share whatever is in there?” she flapped demandingly.

Bob nodded and opened the can. He was just as curious as Leona about its contents. Above all, he was relieved that Leona stopped asking questions. A few other officers were looking at them as well, jealous that they weren’t the ones to shout the number three.

Leona sniffed the unusual contents with her antennae up close. The scent was very faint, and the things inside the can were ridiculously small and dry. Bob felt relieved: Leona seemed to be completely distracted by the can.

“What do you think this is?” Leona asked.

“I have no idea. But by the smell of it, it would appear to be human food,” Bob replied.

“How do you know what human food smells like?”

“What else could it be, Leona? It smells salty and it’s dry and fragile. It must be food,” Bob lied.

But Bob knew for a fact that it was food. He had seen these fragile, stiff pieces of bread many times before.