Three days had flown by so fast that all which had happened almost felt like a dream.

But that was all it was: felt. Because Elmer remembered seeing the maggot-faced man and the Lost; they were all clearly etched into his memory so that anytime he closed his eyes their pictures would come back faintly to him.

He had even unwillingly woken up very early this morning with sweat drenching his face despite the cold air that had filled his room. But even though those things that prowled his mind anytime they wanted were beings so frightening, they always seemed to lack their otherworldly chill whenever Elmer saw a particular person—the one who was currently approaching.

Elmer shook his head exasperatingly with a sigh, as the boots of the sole competitor of the frightening horrors that tainted his psyche, showed themself before his eyes.

“What was that for?” Patsy asked, towering over Elmer where he sat at his favorite spot: the edge of the alleyway.

“Did you ask a question?” he said. “Wow. Since we’re doing that, let me do you one better.” And with those words, he dragged his gaze from the ever-busy road of Atkinson’s train station and looked up at her of his own accord. “When will you leave?”

“Harsh,” she answered quickly, and Elmer rolled his eyes with a smack of his lips.

It was the same thing she had been doing for the past two days whenever he asked her that question. She’d first say: ‘harsh’, then follow it up with…

“Just one more night. Why do you want to chase me out so badly?”

Beautifully done… Elmer turned his eyes back to the road. Never fails to amaze me, this lady…

“Look.” Patsy plunged herself beside him quickly, snugging up her arm against his despite his constant shifting, which he had hoped would make his aloofness for her obvious. She did not put her mind to his actions though, she never did. “I brought us bread,” she added, and Elmer now took notice of the breadsticks she held in her hands.

He silently swallowed his saliva, then immediately shook his glutty thoughts away and peeled his eyes from the crusty made delicacies with a scoff. If he took that bread there was no telling if he would be able to chase her away anymore. He needed his home back to himself first, bread could come after that.

“I’m not hungry,” he lied, and it would have worked perfectly if only his stomach did not stupidly groan.

Patsy momentarily burst into a soft laugh. “Even if your stomach did not say anything, I already knew you were lying,” she said, then poked his nose twice with her finger while Elmer tried to shake her off. “Your nose always twitches twice when you lie.”

What…? That caught Elmer well off guard that he turned back sharply to her with a scrutinizing gaze. What is she? A spectator?

“Don’t be surprised?” She stretched a stick at him. “I’m a learner. I learn everything, and that includes people. Gathering knowledge is my flair.” Her thin lips curled into a sly grin that sent shivers down Elmer’s spine, and it made him moan fearfully as he shifted his arm from hers.

“You’re crazy,” he told her, shivering still.

“Am I?” she asked, her sly smile fading shortly after. “Just take the bread, my hands are hurting.”

Reluctantly—which was a vast contrast from the eagerness he had deep within—he took the bread from her outstretched hand, relieving her of the burden she complained about.

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Patsy beamed gleefully as she turned away from him and bit into her bread, her freckled-face turning pink immediately after with somewhat of a relish Elmer suspected was for the bread’s taste.

Is it really that good…? Elmer hungrily swallowed his saliva once again as he watched her chew joyfully for a second, before he finally turned his face to his own stick. But just as he was about to bite into it he suddenly heard a muffled shout.

“Woah!” Patsy stopped Elmer from taking a bite of the bread, and forced his eyes to turn back to her, though this time with a severe glint of frustration. “I forgot,” she added, a bit too softly that it was almost as though she had not just shouted.

“You forgot what?” She was probably going to make him lose his appetite with whatever she was about to say—if that was even in any way possible.

Patsy took her time swallowing at the expense of Elmer’s. “Your name. You never told me your name. What is it?”

Really…? That was why she shouted…? Elmer’s face had nothing but a grimace which should normally have told her that he was tired of her, but of course she was not bothered.

Well, at least his appetite still remained.

“Elmer,” he answered briefly with a sigh, then finally bit into his breadstick, and he felt his cheeks turn red with warmth at once. The bread tasted majestic.

The crusty feeling of the outer layer mixed in with the tender taste of the crumb of the bread made his mouth water for more. It was too sweet.

Elmer quickly gave Patsy his gaze, and interrupted her before her mouth was able to give way to the words she looked to have readied.

“Where…” He tried to speak but the bread caught in his throat, forcing him to cough first. “Where did you get this?” he asked with widened, curious eyes as he pointed down at the breadstick in his hand.

Patsy’s eyebrows creased then softened immediately after as she allowed the type of smile that was usually associated with the cunningness of a fox to grace her face.

“Somewhere,” she answered cryptically and briskly turned away from Elmer.

“Somewhere?” Elmer shrugged, his mouth swollen with bread. “Somewhere is nowhere. Where did you get it?”

I have to get one for Mabel…

“You have a nice name,” Patsy lauded him as possibly a means to boycott the question.

Elmer would not let that happen though, not on his watch.

“I asked where for the bread. Where?” Slight traces of spit mixed with bread flew out of his mouth in the same fit of rage he had used to repeat the question.

“Why…” Patsy complained with a slight shift and a loss of her smile. “Why are you spitting all over me?”

Elmer drew himself closer. “I’ll spit more on you if you don’t tell me where you got the bread, ostrich-lady. I have to get one for Mabel.”

“I’m not ostrich-lady.” Patsy pursed her lips first before her smile returned. “And I have Mabel’s right here,” she told him while tapping on the pouch about her waist.

Right here…? Elmer looked at the pouch and back at her, then his eyebrows knitted in realization. “Don’t tell me?”

“What?” Patsy pouted. “I already told you I was going to stay one more night.”

“Why though? Why? Don’t you have your own place? What is wrong with you?” Elmer took off his cap and rubbed his hair.

“What?” Her pout remained. “I’ve not paid you your share yet, so—”

“Then pay me now.” Elmer donned the behavior of a persistent beggar. “Pay me the money now and be free of the burden I’ve placed on you.”

Why was she still holding him back? It’s been two days. She knew how much he needed the money—what he needed the money for—so why?

“Fine,” she voiced as she jumped to her feet. “I’ll pay you now then. Let’s go.”

“To where?” Elmer reverted back to himself, his other persona going lost in the twinkle of an eye.

“To a pawnbroker. Don’t you want your money?” she answered, then chugged the rest of her breadstick into her mouth.

Elmer let out a deep breath and rose to his feet. “Where is that exactly?” He now also took in the rest of his stick and chewed on it, his and Patsy’s mouth almost moving in rhythm.

With a muffled voice she answered, “Merchant’s District.”