“Once I press this button we only have thirty seconds to leave before the alarm activates,” Mallory warned, and Albert made to stand by the door. He pressed the button on the curious device on the wall by the office door, and walked briskly from behind the counter, grabbing his beige sweater and umbrella as he went. He unlocked the door and held it open for Albert, locking it again behind them with a swift and practiced motion. Albert watched him pocket the key, breathing in the night air in a sigh.

“I’m not lucky,” Albert said, briefly feeling the outline of the wishbone through his shirt. He’d come to terms with the fact a long time ago when his life was in shambles, and he needed a kind of help he didn’t know how to ask for, and there was something fundamentally wrong with the way he was interacting with the world around him. There still was, but he was coping with it better through support and discipline.

“How come? Collecting cans no fun?” Mallory smiled, and the heaviness seemed to lift from Albert for an instant. 

This guy had no knowledge or context behind what he’d said. He had no reason to think Albert was anything other than a guy in his twenties who got caught in the rain and fell asleep outside Wingdings. He wondered what he must’ve looked like to Mallory. He knew too well how he looked to the people in town who saw him scavenging bottles and instantly pegged him as a grifter. He knew what he looked like to Jim and Eleanor and even Raven who knew him so briefly as a kid and could only wonder how he came to be in the sorry state he was in now. He knew how he looked to his many deceased companions with whom he’d shared his story and who treated him like a character of fascination. 

Mallory was none of those things, and Albert didn’t want him to become any of those things. To Mallory, he was just some guy. Some guy who liked to collect cans in the parks and spook local kids in the woods and take naps in the rain. Mallory hadn’t seen him be insane or lonely or interesting, he’d only seen Albert be Albert. So how would Albert answer? How would Albert interact with someone who was just some guy, not even a friend, but an acquaintance? Like so many normal people were allowed to have but Albert seemed to always miss?

“Uh, yeah, collecting trash sucks.” He said casually as they made their way through the parking lot and to the sidewalk. “Sometimes you get sticky ones or broken ones that cut your hand open.” He rolled back his glove to reveal a couple deep finger gashes he’d gotten the week before.

“Holy…wow that’s not good.” Mallory looked closely, unashamedly interested and concerned. It was refreshing, to feel someone's concern but not pity.

“Yeah, and that’s not to mention what’s inside. The bottles are mostly safe ‘cause they’re see-through, but soda and beer cans hide wasps, spiders, sometimes small dead things like mice.” He listed and Mallory just stared at him wide-eyed.

“Poor mice.” He remarked.

“Mice? Poor me.” Albert grimaced and Mallory snickered beside him at his offense. “Sorry, poor Mr. Ghost.” He corrected himself. 

“Much better.” Albert declared, feeling lighter. He felt inexplicably lighter like a rapidly rising pita bread, but he squashed it. He was just having a normal conversation, the first one he’d had in a very long time, no need to make it weird. “Plus the teenagers think they’re smart, taking the labels off their bottles and crushing their cans before throwing them out so they can’t be returned. I found one the other day that was filled with…” He hesitated, wondering if this was too much information, he couldn’t remember what was and wasn’t off limits for a regular conversation. “Let's just say it wasn’t apple juice.” He decided.

“Ah, dude, gross,” Mallory remarked, but there was humor in it. His cringe hid a smile. “You’re right, that does suck.” 

“Teenagers suck.” Albert concurred, thinking of all they’d been up to to make his life worse, backpedaling once he realized what he’d said. “No offense, though.” He tacked on a little too late to sound sincere.

“You’re completely right. Teenagers around here suck.” He gestured to the open air as he pressed the button on the streetlight to let them cross. The night was young and there were still plenty of cars on the road.

“Aren’t you a..?” He trailed off, trying to get a good look at the guy out of the corner of his eye without drawing suspicion. He’d thought the guy was a teenager but with the doubt, he wasn’t as sure. 

“What? No, I'm twenty-two.” He corrected him, and Albert felt disbelief twist his features. No way he was in his twenties, he could’ve gotten a free kid's meal at a restaurant. “Good guess though, Ghost, how old are you? Thirty?”

“Oh no, do I look that bad?” He lamented out loud before he could stop himself. He knew he was rough, but thirty?

“Sorry, sorry.” Mallory put his hands up in apology. “How old are you then?” 

“I…” Albert very seriously considered answering, but he paused. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let this guy get him to talk about himself. Getting to know someone led to telling them about things that got them interested. Things that got them hurt. It didn’t matter if it was something so simple, Albert couldn’t see anyone else get killed because of his curse. It didn’t matter if this was the first genuine and pleasant conversation he’d had in years, it didn’t matter if Albert longed for company, it didn’t matter if he felt he’d rather be buried alive than live without getting to know people. Albert had always loved people.

No stories, no ages, no names.

They walked in silence for a while as Albert tried to think of something else to say. Some way to change the subject. He came up empty as the silence stretched for ages like the sidewalk before them until they came to the corner. Mallory kept walking after the light had changed, not even looking as he stepped out in front of the pickup truck speeding down the road. How tired was he? Albert yanked him back by his arm and it was enough for him to refocus on where he was walking. 

"Whoa…" he remarked, as the truck didn't even slow in the distance after almost flattening him. Albert breathed a shaky breath, reminding himself it was fine. People kept dying around him but it was fine. Nothing happened.

They were on a residential street in a part of town Albert didn’t frequent. It wasn’t on the way to anything else, it just existed to house people, and without a house, Albert had no reason to come here. 

“You know the longer you stay quiet, the more I think you are actually thirty,” Mallory said idly as they crossed the empty street to the equally empty other side. 

“Well, I’m not.”

“Sure, champ.”

“I’m not saying anything else.”

“So…if you didn’t come along to talk to me, were you just trying to walk me home?” He asked.

Albert looked up from his limping gait to see Mallory standing in front of a large house. Didn’t he live in an apartment? Albert didn’t dwell on this as he processed what Mallory had said. He had, indeed, followed the guy home like a stray cat. Why? It was nice to talk to someone, but he should’ve realized before that he was being a huge creep. How come he never realized until it was too late that he was being a huge creep? He backed up a couple of steps, thinking of a valid excuse to just leave before he embarrassed himself even more.

“I didn’t mean…I’m gonna head out.” He decided ineloquently, but Mallory spoke up.

“Wait, you should come to the store more often. I don’t really mind the cans, I just wish someone else could get the register.” He said with a breathy laugh. This guy laughed a lot, Albert noticed absently. 

“Ok…” He gave an awkward response.

“I mean, you were fun company today, I’d like to be friends.” The cashier suggested lightly like it was nothing. Like it was normal. In Albert's experience, you didn’t talk about having friends or wanting to be friends, that made it weird. He felt it again, that prickle of something familiar down his back. Something too familiar to be comfortable. 

And there was that word again, company. Albert knew intimately the things he would do for company. The things he would put up with for company. Unfortunately, company was a more selfish want for Albert than it was for most. Company would destroy the people he sought it from. Albert was lonely and he wanted a friend, it had been a literal lifetime since he’d had a genuine friend, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew what would happen if he chose to be selfish again, and the earnest store clerk didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that, not for Albert's sake. The only thing Albert was allowed to do to pass his days and ease his longing… was wait. 

“See you around.” He nodded curtly before turning. 

He made his way back up the road, back towards the town. He didn’t look back to see if Mallory had gone inside. He didn’t look back and he didn’t think about him as he reached the busier streets of the town. He felt the chill of the night air and the peace of the darkness that surrounded him, but as he reached his woods he felt no relief. He found no satisfaction in his traps and tapestries for only him to see. As he rested himself in his lean-to it wasn’t a comfort to hear the silence and the wind and the trees. He didn’t feel the joy of being the only person in the world.

He just felt alone.