PBUY Chapter 06

 06

After joyfully finishing the dishes, Nellie went upstairs.

It was her first time going up to the second floor since she had started working at 331 Fitz Street.

Contrary to her wild imagination that the place might be completely neglected, the second floor had several doors, and among them, one room had a nameplate that read 'George.'

Nellie carefully opened the door.

George came out of her little house and barked.

"Woof!"

"Oh my, George."

Nellie couldn't help but admire what she saw. 

Honestly, George's room was nicer than her own boarding house.

Inside the large wooden doghouse was a cozy blanket, and beside it were two large bowls.

Just as Chester had said, George had already eaten, her bowls were spotless.

Nellie gracefully extended her hand and asked George.

"Miss George, shall we go for a walk?"

George seemed to understand and began hopping and spinning around excitedly. She clearly wanted to go out too.

Nellie attached the leash to George's collar and picked her up. She was lighter than she looked.

After greeting Chester downstairs, she stepped outside.

"George, do you often go on walks with Mr. Coleman?"

George tilted her head as if wondering what she meant.

"Well, I suppose it would be hard for Mr. Coleman to go walking, since his leg is injured."

"Woof!"

"Oh? Is that so? Then from now on, come with me instead."

Nellie interpreted George's bark however she pleased. Then she slowly strolled down the quiet Fitz Street.

Lined with expensive homes, Fitz Street was mostly deserted even in the middle of the day. Occasionally, a luxurious car would drive past.

Despite being over eight years old, George had the most refined walking habits. She never got overly excited or ran, and if something piqued her curiosity, she would pause to sniff at it. She never relieved herself in the middle of the road, always choosing a patch of grass or the roadside.

"George, you're such a well-trained dog! But how did you end up with someone like Mr. Coleman?"

George looked up at Nellie with her deep black eyes.

"Oh, I don't mean Mr. Coleman is a bad person, George. Don't go telling him I said that, alright? It's just…"

Though there was no one around to hear, Nellie lowered her voice.

"He feels… distant? Like he keeps himself apart from everything. But then again, seeing how he takes care of you, maybe that's not entirely true…"

George tilted her head again, as if she found her words hard to understand.

"Maybe I should just ask Mr. Coleman directly. But then again… would he even give me a straight answer? I don't think so. He seems like someone with a lot of secrets."

Regardless of what Nellie was saying, George trotted along beside her, occasionally stopping to sniff around.

Nellie chatted with George throughout the walk, trying to keep her entertained.

On the way back, George seemed tired and lay down on the ground, so Nellie ended up carrying her home in her arms.

Wandering here and there, they had been out walking for over an hour.

"Mr. Coleman! We're back!"

Nellie shouted as she unlocked the front door.

As expected, there was no reply. She had assumed he was in his room… but instead, Chester was sitting on the sofa, clutching his chest, his face twisted in pain.

Nellie quickly set George down and rushed over to Chester.

"Mr. Coleman! Are you hurt?!"

"…Close the door…"

Nellie turned back to shut the front door, which she had left open in her hurry.

"Breathe! Mr. Coleman, please try to breathe!"

Chester was breathing rapidly and shallowly. He didn't seem to hear Nellie clearly as he groaned in pain.

"Woof woof!"

George also barked anxiously, circling around her owner.

"Please hang in there, Mr. Coleman! Just for a moment!"

Nellie opened the cupboard and pulled out the brandy she had noticed while cleaning the day before, then poured some into his mouth.

The brandy spilled from his lips as he couldn't swallow it. Nellie slapped his cheek and shouted.

"Mr. Coleman! Snap out of it! Drink this!"

The brown liquid finally trickled into Chester's mouth, and Nellie kept slapping his cheeks.

"Cough!"

Chester suddenly coughed up the brandy and sat up. His face was severely contorted in pain.

"Should I take you to the hospital? Where does it hurt the most? Your heart? Or is it hard to breathe?"

"…Miss McKay…"

His voice was extremely hoarse, likely from the pain. Nellie leaned in with a tense expression, listening carefully.

"Yes, yes! What is it?"

"…My cheek… hurts the most."

"…What?"

Nellie blinked in disbelief.

Chester rubbed his cheek, which had begun to swell and redden.

"It seems you put quite a lot of heart into that, Miss McKay."

"I did not! I only did it to wake you up!"

"I see. Well, it certainly did the trick. Your hands are just as sharp as your tongue."

"…I'll take that as a compliment."

"If that's how it sounded to you, so be it. I'll be lying down in bed now."

"But what about the hospital? You should at least get checked to make sure nothing's seriously wrong."

Chester, now looking calmer than before, replied.

"There's no need. The doctor wouldn't find anything specific anyway."

"What do you mean by that?"

Nellie tilted her head in confusion, just like George would.

Chester took another sip of brandy, then spoke in a calm voice.

"It's an illness I developed after the war. Sometimes, my heart tightens, and I struggle to breathe. The doctors said it's a form of heart hypersensitivity caused by the shock from shell explosions."

"…Is that a real condition? Can it be cured?"

At her careful question, Chester gave a deflated laugh. It was a weak smile.

"I've had this illness for years now. Medication, alcohol… none of it helps beyond the moment. Hoping it'll go away on its own would be a miracle. I'll probably suffer from it until I die. So, Miss McKay-"

"Yes?"

"If you're afraid of someone like me, you can leave now. It's getting worse by the day. One day, I might just…"

Chester hesitated, afraid to finish the sentence.

"One day, what? You'll die?"

Nellie could easily guess what he meant by those unfinished words, and they filled her with anger.

She was furious at Chester's hollow smile and the complete lack of hope in his tone.

"Oh, Mr. Coleman… how pitiful you are."

"……"

"Did you think I'd say something like that? Absolutely not! No one knows when they'll die. Everyone dies suddenly!"

Chester simply stared at her in silence.

"My grandmother used to say, 'There's an order to arriving, but not to leaving.'"

"That doesn't seem like the best quote for this situation."

"Who knows, I could get shot today by a gangster on my way home. Isn't that possible too? Don't you worry about things like that?"

"You don't need to make up unlikely scenarios to comfort me."

"Mr. Coleman, you are unbelievably foolish."

Despite her harsh words, Chester didn't budge. He clearly believed with certainty that he would die before Nellie, and soon.

"You could be here thinking, 'This heart might burst at any moment!' crying your eyes out and waiting for death, and then get bitten by a snake hiding in the backyard bushes and die from that instead. Isn't that just how life works?"

"There are no snakes in our backyard, Miss McKay."

"It's just a figure of speech!"

Nellie responded hotly, stomping in frustration.

That defeatist attitude of his! If you're old enough to be an adult, you should be thinking about how to live, not acting like someone who's already lived out their life and is just waiting to die…

Maybe it was because he had more than enough money to live on?

Nellie glanced subconsciously at the drawer where she knew he kept lots of money.

If that's the case… maybe I can help him.

"I'm still certain I'll die soon."

He remained unshakable.

Damn it all!

Nellie was about to let loose a string of curses but barely managed to hold them back.

She couldn't risk getting fired from this job she had only just managed to get back, certainly not over a few curse words.

"So if you're afraid of me, feel free to quit right away. I've managed just fine on my own until now."

"Yes, yes. I'm sure you have, old and sick Mr. Coleman."

Nellie changed the subject quickly.

Why would I give up the best-paying job in this whole neighborhood?

Suppressing her true thoughts, she put on a falsely sweet tone and asked.

"Well then, Mr. 'I'm-about-to-die' Coleman, how about getting up now? How long do you plan to keep lying there?"

"……"

"What's wrong? Feeling like you're about to attend your own funeral?"

"…No, that's not it."

Chester looked like he had something to say, moving his lips slightly, but Nellie simply ignored him.

"Then, Mr. Coleman, who's scheduled to die of heart failure sometime next week, let me know if your schedule changes. Now, wait just a moment. I'll bring you some warm tea."

"I'd rather have more brandy."

Chester's absurd little whine was shut down immediately.

"Drink tea. If you keep drinking, you'll get drunk. You've had plenty already. Any more and I think your death date might move up, are you okay with that?"

"Were you like this at your previous job too?"

"What do you mean, 'like this'?"

For a second, a line popped into her head: "What do you mean by 'like me'?" Where had she heard that before?

"Snarky, always deciding things on your own…"

"Of course! There were even times I had to tie them down."

"…What?"

Chester's eyes widened in shock.

"Mrs. Hudson, the woman I took care of before, used to wander off whenever I wasn't home. I had no choice but to tie her up when I had to run errands."

"……"

"So you're lucky, Mr. Coleman. You don't have dementia, right? That makes things so much easier for me. After all, it's my duty to ensure your safety."

"Amazing."

"Ah, you're just now realizing that? That you've hired an extraordinary caregiver?"

Nellie remained completely unfazed by Chester's sarcasm.