Thursday, May 22, 2014

Day Seven-Hundred-Four: Detective work

my wife is in on it

I don't know what it is but she's right smack in the middle

I am distrustfulllll

My head hurts. It hurts less than when I woke up, but it hurts. That said, the pain ebbs a little whenever I'm outside, especially in the early evening. The cooler air is good for my headaches. So, today, eager to prove myself capable of moving about without the aid of my son, I resolved to go for a walk on my own.

She was having none of it.

"A walk? No." Libby put her foot down. (She'd been tying her boot.) "No no no. You're still too fucked up. You wanna go for a walk, you take Fynn with you."

"I don't mind, dad," Fynn confessed.

I patted his shoulder. "Thanks, son, but I'd like to walk for a bit on my own. What's wrong with that?"

"Things," Libby said. She bit her lip and looked away, then, grasping at her resolve, she swivelled decisively back to me. We locked eyes. "I know what's best. Take Fynn or stay inside. That's that."

"But I just wanted to walk to the Dauphine and back, see how it's - "

"NO." That single syllable near shattered my eardrums.

Reeling, I blinked hard and clutched my head. "Oh, come on, this is ridiculous - "

"Don't let him leave," Libby commanded our son. "You stay with him. Got it? Don't let him leave."

Fynn nodded and threw Libby a salute as she left the room. Once she was gone, he turned to me and shrugged. "Sorry, dad. Orders."

I sat hard on our bed. We were in one of Desert's Edge's many hotels, and perhaps not the nicest amongst 'em. The bed's wood frame damn near bruised my butt. "Ow. Orders for what? Why am I stuck in my room?"


"Because why?"

"Because..." It was Fynn's turn to bite his lip. He looked like his mother for about two seconds before settling back into my dark-skinned clone. "Because orders?"

"Thanks, kid. Real helpful."

I've been confined to my bedroom for the night. Fynn's with me, napping on the bed, though his eyes open wide whenever I move around. Making a break for the door is pretty much a no-go. I've been forced to observe Desert's Edge from the balcony, to watch the thinning crowds as they reveal more and more members of my crew moving from store to store, buying things.

Curious things.

That jester fellow who occasionally hosts comedy hours in the Neo Neo Beefiary purchased a giant bundle of string from a sewing store.

Grylock appeared to buy a bag of apples from a grocer. I don't think I've ever seen him eat fruit. Hell, he barely eats anything but meat.

Logan and Jeffrey wandered down the street towards the Dauphine with kegs over their shoulders. Judging by the stagger in their steps, I'd say the kegs were at least half full.

And Libby... Libby carried something lumpy and heavy in a leather satchel, right towards the Dauphine. When she spotted me watching her from our room, she gave me the finger. I gave it right back.

What the hell is going on...?

I want to know.


Dragomir the Wanderer

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