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Elden tipped the wastebasket and emptied the contents into his wheeled cart. The usual office debris tumbled out—papers, Styrofoam coffee cups, paperclips, post-it notes—but then something solid and wet plopped into the cart. Elden stared down at it for several seconds before reaching into the cart and retrieving the item.
He held it in his cupped hands, bringing it close to his face, examining it. It was battered and scarred, obviously mistreated and misused. At first Elden thought it was broken, but then it pulsed and inflated. It was struggling, but still working. Not for long, though, not unless someone took the care to mend it.
Cradling it protectively against his body, Elden walked down the hall to the break room. He took his bagged lunch from the refrigerator, dumped his bologna sandwich in the trash, and placed the item gingerly in the plastic bag.
When his shift ended at midnight, Elden took the bagged item home with him. He placed it on the kitchen windowsill, next to his potted plant. There it stayed for the next three weeks. Elden regularly talked to it, just as he did his plant, massaging it at times, rubbing ointment into the worst of the scars. He nourished and nurtured it, showering it with attention and affection until its scars healed. They did not disappear, but they did fade, and its stuttering rhythm soon became strong and constant.
Three weeks after taking it home, there was a knock at Elden’s door. He was surprised to find one of the workers from the office where Elden was a janitor on his doorstep. She was young, early thirties, blonde hair pulled back at the nape of her neck, eyes that were sad and older than her years. She smiled wanly when Elden opened the door.
“Hello,” Elden said.
“Hello, my name is Lisa. I, uhm, well, I believe you have my heart.”
“Oh, of course,” Elden said, standing back to allow the young woman inside. He led her to the kitchen where her heart beat strong and healthy on the windowsill.
“There it is,” Lisa said, relief infusing her words. “I thought it was lost.”
“You threw it out,” Elden said simply, taking the heart and handing it to the young woman.
“I thought it was broken beyond repair.” She turned the heart over in her hands, checking it by sight and touch. “Amazing, you can hardly even tell it was damaged. How did you manage this?”
“It was nothing much, really,” Elden said with a shy smile. “Just required a little attention, a gentle touch.”
“It hasn’t been accustomed to gentleness in quite a while,” she said, holding the heart firmly to her chest. “When it wasn‘t being neglected, it was being handled by only the roughest hands. I only hope I can keep up the work you started.”
“Perhaps you will permit me to help you,” Elden said, placing a hand over one of hers, the heart beating beneath their fingers. “I can teach you how a heart should be treated.”
Lisa hesitated, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “I think I might like that.”
“Please, sit. Have a cup of coffee."
Lisa sat, placing the heart on the table between them. They talked into the night, all awkwardness gradually falling away, their laughter coming often and naturally. The heart flourished under the warmth of their budding friendship, its faint scars blending in with the rest of its surface, adding to its overall beauty.
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