|
Episode
054
“Just what is . . . the real me? Who is it that looks through
these
‘Sorry.’
Marilyn
sat back from her computer screen, chewing on her lip in anger. She looked
away, her eyes held closed. She turned back to the screen, an angry glare
in her eyes as she typed her response in the tiny window in the center of
her screen.
‘Victor,
I need you.’
‘I
can’t.’ Came the response. ‘I’ve got to go. My parents will be
mad.’
‘I
know,’ She typed. ‘But this is really big.’
‘Yeah,
but how do I explain that to them?’
‘Can’t
you tell them you have another meeting or something?’
‘They
won’t listen. They want me there and that’s final. I don’t really
have a say in the matter.’
Marilyn
turned away from her computer again, digging her nails into the ergonomic
pad at the base of her keyboard. She pushed her chair back away from the
desk, bending her body almost parallel to the floor as she grit her teeth.
With
a fast yank, she pulled herself back up to the computer. ‘Fine.’ She
typed. She hit a few keys and her computer logged off the university’s
internal computer net. She hit a few more and the machine began to power
down.
Marilyn
stood up in her small room and quickly looked around. She grabbed up her
brown leather jacket from the back of her chair and threw it on quickly.
She looked up, at the mirror on the door and at the girl in the mirror. A
few tears had stained her cheek.
Slowly,
the face turned from sad. The tears shifted suddenly into anger. Marilyn
reached over to her bed and grabbed her purse. She threw open the door
violently as she stormed out of her room, slamming the door as she rushed
out.
Mint stood in the empty parking lot of the hotel, standing in front
of the chain-link fence that lined the property; that kept it separated
from the vacant lot that stretched out for entire blocks in the small
excuse for a town.
The
small woman breathed out, the act causing a few locks of her hair to go
skittering up into the air. She stared uninterestingly at the row of seven
candles that had been dug into the fence, the wicks lit, the flames
rapidly flapping like wishes in the windy, pre-storm night. Up above, the
clouds blocked the stars and the moon, while the mountains that seemed to
loom ever closer were half-hidden by the ominous clouds.
Mint
closed her right hand, the leather handle that she held rubbing hard and
closing with resistance against her. She took a deep breath, letting it go
with a seeming boredom.
There
was a crack of thunder.
The
candle on the far left went out.
Mint
let the whip drop back lazily to the ground, it’s head laying on the
pavement in front of her like the eyes of a viper staring at it’s pray.
Standing just behind the curb of the parking lot, with several yards of
grass and dirt between her and the candle, she glanced down at the whip,
then back up at the candles.
Mint
whipped gently with her hand, pulling the whip back behind her. She
glanced around the parking lot, at the small group of local children who
had gathered just behind the stairwell railing, watching in silent wonder.
She wasn’t much taller than them, but the whip in her made her an
entirely different breed.
The
thunder struck again.
The
candle on the far right went out.
Mint
let the whip fall to the ground, but as soon as the tip touched the ground
she cracked the whip again.
The
left candle went out. The
right candle went out.
The left candle went out. The
right candle went out.
Mint stopped. She let the whip coil up behind her again, a serpent
ready to strike out. She stared at the flame of the candle, smiling as it
danced in the wind, danced before her eyes. Her smile turned into a
delighted laugh.
Another
crack of thunder. The
center candle went out.
“How do you feel?” Edgar said, looking over Sydney’s nose.
The girl sat on Everett’s couch, her head tilted up so the older knight
could appraise the damage done. “Does it still hurt at all?”
“Only
when you touch it.” Sydney said with a smile.
“Like
this.” Edgar said, touching her nose gently, but with just enough
pressure to cause her to wince. He smiled at her and she glared playfully
up at him. The knight turned over to the door, where Everett stood in
solemn thought.
Dressed
in sweats and a tank top, Everett was still cooling down from his evening
workout. But his mind was obviously elsewhere. “What’s eating you?”
Edgar asked, leaving Sydney on the couch by the window as he headed over
towards Everett. As he walked, the trusted and used rapier that hung at
his side knocked against the coffee table.
“Since
when did you take to going around under arms?” Everett asked, glancing
over at Edgar.
“Old
habits die hard.” Edgar shrugged.
“Old
habits?” Everett asked, with a weak smile.
“I’m
an old man.” Edgar grinned. “Naturally, whether or not the habit has
been around for awhile, it’s old simply out of the virtue of the one
habituating it.”
“Sounds
like questionable logic to me.” Sydney said from the couch, leaning back
with her eyes closed.
“Edgar,
you’re thirty-three.” Everett said. “You’re not even ten years
older than me. You are not an old man.”
“The
business of safe-guarding the world is a job for the young.” Edgar said,
moving now towards the kitchen. “My beard’s turning gray.”
“You’ve
got like ten gray hairs.” Everett called. “You’ve got more color
than gray. So knock it off.”
“Yeah
whatever.” Edgar mumbled from the kitchen area, as he fished through
Everett’s fridge. “All you’ve got is . . .”
“I
know, I know.” Everett said, looking up at the ceiling, as if it would
help in stopping Edgar. “I need to go shopping. But with Armand running
around like an idiot, I haven’t had the time to.”
“Speaking
of idiots, where is he?” Sydney asked, laughing slightly from watching
the exchange between Edgar and Everett. “Out with the boys?”
“I’m
not sure if Roland and Ledger constitute ‘the boys’,” Edgar said,
looking through the bar opening in the kitchen. “But yes.” He opened a
new bottle of water and poured three glasses. He topped off the third
glass and looked over at Everett. “That was some number Morgan did on
her.” He said, motioning to Sydney. “It was in, what? Five strokes?”
“Three.”
Everett said, still by the front door.
“Three?”
Edgar said, his eyes wide. He looked at Sydney. He shook his head and paid
more attention to the water bottle he was screwing shut. “Morgan’s
getting better.”
“Yeah.”
Sydney said, rubbing her still-red neck. “I didn’t even known what was
happening until I hit the ground after being thrown into the van.”
“I
wonder how he’s going to explain that to his neighbor?” Edgar asked
with a harmless grin as he brought the three glasses of water into the
living room. He sat them down at the coffee table and handed the first to
Sydney. “M’ lady.”
“Ah,
a gentleman.” Sydney said, accepting the glass. “A surprising rarity
in Atlanta.”
“So
we’ve heard.” Everett said, coming over to sit down in the chair,
facing the table and his two guests.
“Some
more of your stuff arrived, by the way.” Edgar said to Sydney, as he sat
back in the chair facing the couch. “My wife and I are running out of
places to put it all.”
“In
a house that big?” Sydney exclaimed.
“Let
me rephrase.” Edgar said with a chuckle. “My wife’s running out of
places for me to put it all.”
“Sounds
about right.” Everett mumbled under his breath.
“I’m
sorry.” Edgar said, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Everett.
“Didn’t you sleep alone last night?”
“No.”
Answered Sydney, grinning as she sipped the water.
“My
my.” Edgar said, his face a giant grin. But he looked over at Everett,
to see the young knight lost in thought. “Have you even been
listening?”
“No.”
Everett said, leaning forward, staring at his reflection in the glass
tabletop of the coffee table. “I was just thinking about . . .”
There
was a soft knock.
Everett
looked at the other two knights. “That wasn’t Roland or Ledger.”
Edgar said.
“Is
Armand that much of a pussy that he knocks like that?” Sydney asked.
Everett
stood up and turned to the door. He walked quietly over to it, picking up
the ninjato that rested at arm’s reach from the doorway. He drew the
blade out and stood against the doorframe. He looked through the spy hole.
“What the hell?” He said.
“Who
is it?” Sydney asked, standing up. Edgar remained seated, but his hand
unconsciously moved closer to the handle of his rapier.
Everett
opened the door to his apartment, to show Marilyn standing before the
three. |