Everyone loves pizza, Pete the pizzaman more than most. So he sighed at the situation in which he found himself. It would be his last delivery of the night, three large pies, two pepperoni, one cheese.

The home had been easy enough to find. A green porchlight matched the delivery instructions, and at midnight, no other houses had their lights on. On that porch, he stood, waiting for someone…anyone…to answer the door.

Should I knock again? He wondered. Yup, I need to knock again. Knock. Knock. Knock. He would have rung the doorbell, but the house didn’t have one. Instead, the place where a doorbell used to be boasted a small hole. Exposed wires poked out. The paint on the wires matched the siding.

Should I call them? His eyes glanced at the customer’s phone number on the top of the credit card receipt. Then he dropped the receipt on his pizza bag, and he used the same left hand to fish out a phone from his pocket.

Pete knocking on a door [https://storage.googleapis.com/production-domaincom-v1-0-2/962/418962/HNoiSPZo/5d91fac94cf44ff8bd893e7f451e54b6]

It was a windless night, a rare occurrence in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Something about it didn’t seem right. Even so, he didn’t need to worry about the receipt blowing away, so he wasn’t going to complain. He looked at the phone number by the customer’s name and called.

No one answered.

Three pizzas aren’t that heavy, not under normal circumstances… But after two minutes of standing there, they’d begun to weigh on his right bicep. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay there much longer.

I should get them back to the car. I’m wasting time. And time wasn’t something he had that night. If he could get dishes done before 2:00 AM, he’d be able to watch when the new episode of his favorite isekai premiered.

Isekais were some of his favorite stories. They involve someone who goes to a new world, sometimes by dying and reincarnating, sometimes by teleporting, sometimes by both. In the new world, they live a new life full of adventure. Why couldn’t something cool like that happen to him?

Tired steps carried him back to the car. Once there, he placed the pizza bag on the passenger seat. At the same time, he sat in his own seat.

I’ll text them and wait five minutes before I leave. He lifted his phone and snapped a picture of the porch, sending it to the number with a message:

This is Pete the pizzaman. I’m here with your food. If no one comes to get it within the next five minutes, I’ll have to take it back to the store.

He wouldn’t mind if he had to take it back to the store with him. Whenever that happened, the manager canceled the order in the computer system. Then the employees got to eat the pizza… And if there was something Pete liked as much as isekai, it was pizza.

Some of his co-workers weren’t as excited about pizza. They’d eaten so much of it that they’d grown tired of it. One had gone as far as to say, “pizza turns to ash in my mouth.”

Pete wondered why he hadn’t grown tired of it. He supposed it had to do with his childhood. On Monday night, his family would gather, and they’d make pizza.

His dad would handle the dough prep. One by one, he’d take turns with each of the siblings. He taught them how to toss the dough, how to make sauce from scratch. Pete’s mother would prepare the cheese and toppings. Each topping got its own small plate on the dining room table.

A smile snuck across Pete’s face. Those were some of his favorite memories. He had a healthy, loving relationship with his parents and with his siblings. Even so, those Mondays didn’t happen anymore. His brothers and sisters were too busy with work, college, and social endeavors. He was occupied with those things, too: balancing work, video games, and school.

He glanced at the clock. Since he’d sent the text, five minutes had come and gone. It was time to head back to the store.

After he put his key in the ignition, he turned it, and the engine roared to life. He tapped a button on the steering wheel, and a woman’s voice spoke. “Please, say a command.”

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“Call,” he began, reading the number off the receipt.

It went straight to voicemail.

“This is Pete the pizzaman. Since no one seems to be here, I’m taking your food back to the store. If you call us soon enough, we will be able to bring it back. If not, we’ll refund your credit card. I hope you have a great night.” As he finished the last word, he clicked a different button on his steering wheel, and his phone hung up.

Then he began to drive back to the store, moving with a slow caution through the neighborhood streets before reaching one of the avenues.

He hit the call button on the steering wheel again. When the woman’s voice asked for a command, he answered. “Call Zoey.”

“Calling Zoey on cell.” He could hear a few clicks and the faint echo of a dial tone. Then it rang.

Halfway through the first ring, Zoey answered. “What’s up?”

“They didn’t answer the door, didn’t answer their phone. I sent them a text with a picture of their house.” Pete slowed to a stop at a red light.

“If they call back, I’ll let them know.” She hung up.

He noticed some movement in the bushes to the right. When he cast his gaze in that direction, he saw a raccoon. It sent a chill down his spine.

Trash pandas might look cute, but he knew better than to trust the tenacious creatures. One time, one had snuck in his car through an open window. It was trying to pull the hot bag through the window when he intervened. Instead of running off, it went on the offensive. In the end, Pete ran.

The light turned green, and Pete continued unabated the rest of the way back to the store. He parked behind it, got out of his car—he brought the undelivered pizzas with him—and made his way inside.

When Zoey saw him, she smiled. Her bright white teeth contrasted against dark lipstick. She had her black hair cut at shoulder length. It was smooth and shiny with dyed red tips. “At least you’ll have some pizza for when you watch your show tonight.” Then her lips turned down at the corners, an eyebrow raised, and her voice took on a more serious tone. “Unless they ordered something gross?”

“Pepperoni and cheese.” He answered, slipping past her. In case the customer called back, he left the order on the heat racks.

He was in such a hurry that he didn’t notice her following behind him. As such, when he spun to head back to the dish pit, he almost ran into her. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries.” She flicked his hat. You’ll owe me for that later, though.”

“Yeah?” He shied back, her piercing emerald eyes staring at him.

“Yeah,” she stepped forward, poking him in the chest with her index finger. “You’ll have to share some of your pizza with me. And tomorrow when we play, you’ll owe me one of your drops. Nothing big, a potion or something.”

“Right,” he relaxed. Though, he wasn’t sure what he was afraid of. He liked Zoey a lot. She was funny, liked the same shows, did the same job, had a great sense of humor, and was gorgeous. What was the worst that she would do to him? Make him go on a date with her? Would she? That would be awesome. He went back to being nervous again. “Uh… Pizza…share…sure thing.” After an awkward few seconds of silence, he asked. “How much work do you have left to clean up front?”

“I’ll finish before you do.” She winked.

“We’ll see about that.”

An hour later, Pete was on the way home, excited he’d make it in time for his show. Driving at night was easier for him than driving in the day. He loved the empty roads… To be specific, he loved not having to worry about other drivers.

Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t come across obstacles. Two blocks away from his house—for example—while on a residential street, a cat ran across the middle of the road. It crossed straight in front of him.

His brain took a second to react to the animal. If not for the single white spot on the center of its forehead, he doubted he would have seen it at all. When his brain did catch up, it shouted, ‘a cat, oh, gosh, it’s a cat. CAT!’

He slammed his right foot on the pedal, the tires screeched, and he came to a stop. The animal froze in place, inches away from his bumper. Then it sped the rest of the way across the street.

A woman with chestnut hair chased behind it. He hadn’t noticed her before. At first glance, he guessed she was older than him. Even so, she couldn’t have been over thirty. He kept his eyes on the woman and cat as they reached a tree, and the cat sped up it.

Pete contemplated helping them; he had the time. Part of him felt obligated to help. If he didn’t stop, and something happened to the woman, and he read about it the next day on a local online news page…well, he couldn’t let it get to that point. He understood he was dramatic. In the end, it wouldn’t take him long to climb a tree and grab the cat.

Without further hesitation, he pulled next to a curb: parking his vehicle, shutting off the engine, hopping out, and walking toward the tree.

The girl stood at the bottom, speaking with soft words to the animal. “Come down, Max. We need to go home.”

While still at a distance—he didn’t want her to think he was sneaking up on her—Pete spoke. “Do you need some help? I can climb the tree and get him down for you?”

She turned. Where he thought it would surprise her to see him, it didn’t. Instead, her tone seemed expectant. It was like she was waiting for him. “If it isn’t too much trouble, that would be amazing. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry,” he told her, examining the tree. On the far side, it looked like it would be easier to get up. He looped to that part of the trunk and began to climb. “I’ll get your cat for you.”

He felt the woman’s eyes on him as he climbed. In a way, it made him feel nervous. He hated when people looked at him. If he slipped, or fell, or worse…like tearing his pants on a branch…he didn’t want witnesses.

Nervousness aside, at some point, he realized he was well over twenty feet above the ground, on a narrowing branch. He had two feet to go before he reached the cat, solid concrete below him. When he got to that point, fear replaced the nervousness.

One foot to reach the cat.

The cat inched away.

One and a half feet to reach the cat.

Six inches to reach the cat.

He reached for it, and it lunged at his face, swiping at his left cheek. His hand swung up to block, and he lost balance, falling face-first toward the sidewalk.