Mid-morning sunshine broke through the blinds and woke me from a halfway decent sleep. I'd slept in later than normal. My one day off this week had been bookmarked for sleeping and rotting. It was glorious. A couple of errands to run at my own leisure with plenty of time for coffee breaks in between. It's the small things in life. My phone was on the charger so I roll over to grab it and see if I had gotten lucky enough that the world had dissolved itself while I was asleep. Alas, no such luck. There are a couple of missed calls (spam likely) and several text messages. My friends had obviously been awake much longer and had polluted my phone with every video they had come across. The modern love language of videos and memes. I feel so cherished.

My bladder is demanding that I leave my nest and pretend to be a rational adult. I turn the furnace up from my phone (thank you, modern living!) and make a dash for the bathroom. I'm just getting in the shower when the phone chirps again. I give half a thought to ignoring it but grab it while the water is warming up.

Eli: are you awake yet?

I debate ignoring it again.

Me: just barely

Three dots keep appearing and disappearing. Yup, shoulda ignored it. I get in the shower while Eli tries to get his words to work. Whatever he's wrestling with will take a minute. Or 20. However long I decide this shower needs to be. The hot water is just the thing I needed. I'm debating whether to just live in the shower when the water starts cooling. I've so far decided that I need to start eating better, start playing bass as my new hobby, and that the bathroom needs remodeled. Very productive planning time. I'll definitely follow through this time.

The phone screen is fogged up but I can see the light flashing in the corner for a new notification. Eli must've learned how to use his words.

Eli: I need a favor. Just a little one. I know it's your day off.

Either that's an apology or his way of telling me he knows I've got nothing else going on and no excuse to fall back on. Either way, it's not a small favor.

Me: I have plans. they involve coffee, a couch, and a tv.

Eli: It's a quick one. Coffee will be on me.

I put the phone down and let him work out some more words while I find sweats to put on. If Eli really wants something done, he's going to have to put in the work of actually asking. Too many times, I've been roped into some BS idea or another at his insistence that it's "not a big deal".

Eli: you'll need boots and gloves

Me: like hell I will. what are you trying to do? it's all of 30 degrees outside

Eli: work stuff. I need help with a pick up job.

Me: and you're paying in coffee? I suppose I can volunteer my services.

I hate that Eli and I are in the same line of work. Thank fates not as competitors. Different clients and specialties. But close enough that professional courtesy is expected.

Me: I'm not using my truck. You're chauffeuring.

Eli: My truck is empty. and clean. it'd be an upgrade for you.

I snort. Not a chance. But if I'm on the hook now to help out, I'm riding shotgun and playing passenger from hell.

Me: what time? I'm not changing out of my sweats. No way I'm getting dolled up for you.

Eli: wouldn't expect anything less than your best. Give me 30 minutes. That give you enough time to put on your makeup?

I toss the phone on the bed and try to track down my boots. This should be a fashion statement.

Eli pulls up the drive and blasts the horn. Of course he does. As if I didn't hear the driveway alarms, exhaust, and his shitty music from the main road. "I'm not listening to that garbage," I gripe as I climb in. The seats are heated, at least, and I can feel my muscles relax. I should probably shop around for newer trucks but prices have gotten a bit ridiculous. Inflation is a bitch.

"You're a whole lot uglier and hairier and grumpier than my usual passenger princesses. I think I've been catfished," Eli grumbles as he turns the music down.

"Oh, I'm just getting started. Wait until you have to get my Starbies order right. And I'm expecting a five-star lunch for this." I'm fiddling with the radio and heat vents. It really is barely tolerable outside and not the kind of weather I had been planning on spending much time in. "My usual stop is the place on Main and Locust. They have the best baristas in town."

Eli rolls his eyes and pulls the truck back onto the road. "The pickup is in the opposite direction. Isn't there a coffee place somewhere east?"

I looked at him. "No," I deadpan. "If you're calling in favors, you're the one on the hook. You coulda called someone else but I'm guessing you need the extra oomph to get this thing in the truck. And back out of it."

He grunts again and heads west towards Main St. Guess that answers my question. He'd normally call me on my petty bullshit and give me more grief for it. Dammit. That means I'm actually going to have to work. On my day off. I toy with whether the friendship is worth saving or not. And decide it probably is. Making friends as an adult is hopeless. Can't throw 30 years down the drain over one lost day off. Eli has been around since we were boys terrorizing the hillsides and hollers. I'll keep him around a while yet.

Coffee in hand and music changed to something much more appealing, he has the truck blasting down a gravel road doing Mach20 with the confidence of a toddler that can "do it himself". It's awe-inspiring and terrifying. I check my seatbelt again and get an annoyed eyeroll from him. "I'm not going to wreck the truck. I just got it paid off. I'd rather keep this one for a bit." He checks the upcoming road sign and swings right.

"Pretty sure that was a stop sign," I comment.

"Do you see any cars at all? Pretty sure the intersection was clear. This whole end of the county is abandoned."

We finally come up on a big house tucked into the hillside. I whistle. "That's a helluva house to be hiding out here. And gotta be new cause I don't remember ever seeing it out here growing up."

Eli backs the truck right up to the garage. "The pickup is upstairs. It's a big bastard. the first time I tried, I pulled my damn shoulder. That's why you're here. All that protein powder and steroids are about to pay off."

I glare over the console, "I don't take steroids. I've worked hard to look like this. Dedication and discipline. Two words you know nothing about."

He blinks at me, "Let's see if those cultivated muscles are actually functional then, shall we?"

"Have I ever called in a favor from you to help me lift anything?" I ask blandly.

His answer is to get out of the truck and walk around the back of the house. Hopefully he's opening the garage door. I'll give him a couple minutes. No need for both of us to freeze when he can do this part on his own just fine.

The garage door begins rolling up and I climb out of the truck and stroll into a very tidy, very white garage. Traditional BMW sitting on one side and an empty space on the other. "Where's the other car?"

"Airport. Out of the way. Homework has all been done. Boxes are checked and it's a pretty standard routine. I just got hung up on the sheer weight. Or I'm actually getting old." Eli opens the door into the house and gestures inside.

I slide my gloves on and turn to him, "Do I need to mask up?"

"No. It's all dealt with. Inside job this one. Pretty textbook really. Just heavy."

He leads the way through the kitchen and upstairs. One hall door is open and he heads for it. I sigh and prepare myself for whatever shitshow I'm getting into. "I really can't believe you got me out of the house for this."

The pick-up does actually look pretty neatly wrapped and ready. Wonders really never cease. Eli gestures to the package on the floor, "Told you. Heavy."

The body on the floor has to be tipping in over 350 and heading for 400. I'm not sure how he ever got him prepped for transport. The cleanup and wrap job really are top notch. Eli at his finest. But this guy is flabby with a capital F. The kind that comes from a lifestyle that also bought this house and what I'm betting is the trophy wife that found Eli. Heavy. Eli warned me. "Allright, let's get this show on the road then. You still owe me lunch after this." I stooped to test lift the shoulders. "If I can get the shoulders and you take the legs I think I can handle the top heading down the stairs first." The weirdest parts of this job sometimes are the logistics.

"Do you think we can do it without breaking the wrap? He's pretty snug but I'd hate to have to redo the nastier bits of cleanup through the whole house. Contractor is trying to keep the house mostly intact." Eli inspects his wrap job again for weak spots.

"No problem. That's what I'm here for." It would, in fact, be a problem. I'm going to be kicking myself for ever putting it out into the ether.

A couple of minutes later, I'm hoisting the stiff up a bit to even the load somewhat between my downhill position and Eli making his way slowly down the steps after me. I've reconsidered and decided the guy is closer to 400. And wasn't carrying it well. Pathway to diabetes and chronic joint issues if Eli hadn't solved that problem for him. We make it to the bottom of the steps and I breathe a sigh of relief. The vision of the poor sap rolling down the stairs and taking me with him had been replaying in my head a couple of times. It didn't end well for me in any of the versions.

We set down to give Eli's shoulder a break. The pained look on his face was nearly enough to make me feel bad for him. Then again maybe not. He's made enough on this job to cover his chiropractor bill, I'm sure. He sits on the stair. "I owe you for this one. I'm not sure I know another meathead within range to help me tackle this one. All the scouting and pictures, I knew he was big. Nothing I haven't done before. I must've really done something strange to cause the shoulder issue."

I frown at him. "You know, if you hit a gym once in a while, you might be in better shape to do these jobs. Then you wouldn't need the meathead. Or figure out how to create a pick-up dolly to strap them too. Patent it and make your fortune on easy-stow body moving tools." I grin and perk up at the thought. "And give me royalties for the idea."

Eli groans and gets back to his feet. "Not sure there would be much demand. That's a very niche market that may be hard to break into with that advertising plan." He gestures back to the wrapped pick-up job. "Let's get this over with."

I stoop and lift my end and ease my way back towards the kitchen. Thankfully an open concept with a straight shot to the garage. Then the steps down and to the back of the truck.

It seems to happen in slow motion. I see Eli open his mouth to say something and my back foot comes "down" on open air. There's no floor. Those visions of rolling with the wrapped body come to mind again for half a second. And then they're coming true. My hands let go out of reflex to catch myself. Eli loses his grip. There were steps into the kitchen. Rookie mistake. And I'm going to pay for it.

I land hard on my back, thankfully keeping my head from cracking on the tile but the air is knocked out of me. The body is coming next. It lands half on me taking the rest of my breath and half on the floor with a sickening slap. Eli is standing at the top of the small three step flight with a shocked look on his face. He jumps down to push the guy off me. With that done, I try to suck in a breath.

"Did you really just miss the step???" Eli is asking. I'm staring at the ceiling gasping like a fish wondering at what point my day took this turn for the worse. My ankle is throbbing like someone took a hammer to it. My back feels like an over-tightened guitar string. My head feels clear and my arms seem intact. I take a deep breath and feel a pinch along the side. A big pinch.

"I think that bastard cracked a rib," I hiss.

Eli looks over at his pick-up. "Shit, he's leaking into the wrapping. We either have to move him now or rewrap him before he busts a seam somewhere." I groan again. He looks me over, "Can you move or did you actually break something?"

"I think I broke a couple things but let's get this done. I'm not hauling my ass back out here again." I push up and grimace. "And I sure as hell didn't volunteer to do a cleanup job." I roll and feel the pinch in my side get worse. At least cracked.

He scrambles to his feet and rolls the package over checking for splits or leaks. He seems satisfied enough and rolls it back onto its back. "We should probably carry him. That wrap isn't going to hold up through a fall and being drug across the floor. Can you do it?"

I'm still laying on the floor dazed. Job's gotta get done though. I've always came through for Eli and he's always came through for me. I can't believe I fell down the steps. What kind of karmic justice was that? Had I offended the cosmos lately?

"I can do it. Let's just make it quick before the swelling sets in. Where is this dude going? Is the unload going to be this bad?" I'm at least on my hands and knees working my way to my feet.

"Unload is easy. Roll off and done. The rest is already taken care of on that end. We're just the delivery service today." Eli grabs my hand and pulls me up. "You leave any body fluids? I've got wipes in the truck. I'll come in and do a quick wipe down once he's in."

We hoist the pick-up again. My ankle and side are now screaming in tandem. I'll have hell to pay for this. But it's only 40 more feet and then home free. I've never been so glad that Eli never had that truck lifted. I wouldn't have been able to heave the guy up any further. The garage steps go much smoother. And slower. We have to swing the guy a bit to get him rolled into the bed of the truck. Not graceful and I'm sure not dignified. Poor guy is probably watching us abuse his corpse and figuring out who he wants to haunt more. Hopefully it's Eli. I'm just the unwitting help on this one.

I climb back into the truck slowly and carefully. Every breath has a bit of burn. My ankle now has it's own heartbeat. Eli's heated seats are doing their best to sooth my back. I'm never answering another text message on a day off. In fact, I may just start silencing my phone and leaving it in a drawer.

Eli climbs in and tosses the wipes into the back seat. A glance in the mirror shows the garage door is shut. The truck lurches down the driveway as he stares straight ahead and begins navigating the gravel roads to make it back to civilization. "So, are we doing lunch at the hospital?"

"No, nothing they can do for cracked ribs that I can't do myself. And I'll let the ankle go a couple of days and see what it does. You know, this is really going to set back my gym routine. I may need someone to prepare meals and help me shower even."

"You were nearly crushed by a pick-up job. I'm not sure how you're going to justify what happened when it was clearly caused by your own negligence. I'm not at fault for your inability to watch where your big feet are going." He snorts, "And I want nothing to do with your shower. You can find some poor woman with daddy issues to help soothe your wounded pride. Though finding one that can cook too might be a reach."

I settle back in the seat and check my seat belt again. He's only driving Mach10 this time. Poor guy in the back is having a rough day today. I look down at my sweats and hoodie. No signs of blood or mud. Coulda been worse I suppose. Eli's good for it. He'll have my back next time no questions asked. "Let's go to that Italian place down on 7th. The breadsticks there are better and the sauce isn't as sour as the one on Sycamore. I don't care how much you like the waitress, I can't stand that sour sauce of theirs. It tastes rancid. You're going to pay for my to-go order for later, too. Then we can do drop-off."

He nods like he knew what the demands were going to be and for once doesn't even argue with me over which Italian place. Makes falling down the steps and being crushed by a body almost worth it. I flex my ankle a bit. Then again maybe not. I'm going to regret volunteering for this job for weeks to come.