“So…Normal,” said Sam as he pounded his fist against the back of the man in gray, “feels like you’ve got quite the stiff muscles." He was far enough away from Flat and Meriem that he was confident the two could talk privately without the prairie witch overhearing.

“Used much,” replied Normal with some somberness to his voice.

“I bet. I’ve seen how much you use that big arm of yours. Quite a lot of strength there.”

“Uneven strength.”

“Yes, but definitely more strength that any of my two arms combined!” Sam pounded a little harder on Normal’s back to demonstrate. “That’s the best that I can do.”

“Thank you.”

Normal was an alright guy, Sam thought to himself, and not just because the big lug had saved his life. But savior or not, he and Flat were in the Cheyenne Crossing Caves with a purpose; and if that purpose now could include some of the money Normal had stolen in the bank robbery in Fox Den, that was just as swell by Sam.

“Say, Normal,” Sam tried to ease into the topic on his mind, “I heard an interesting rumor yesterday. When Flat and I were escaping from the marshal, before we got here.”

“What rumor?”

“Well…” he paused. “It’s a pretty impressive rumor if true.”

“What rumor?” Normal repeated.

“It was about a bank robbery. I wasn’t there, but witnesses say they saw a guy who kind of looked like, well, you. Said he was strong enough to tear the bank vault door off the wall and take everything inside. Normal…was that you?”

Normal stayed quiet, like a little kid who had been caught being naughty and did not want to admit to it.

“It’s okay, Normal,” Sam prodded, “you can tell me. Flat and I are horse thieves, I’m certainly not going to judge you if you’ve done something illegal.”

“Feels wrong,” Normal answered.

Sam laid a little more pizzazz into his massage. “You can tell me, Normal. I was impressed when I heard, not disappointed!”

There was some reticence, but slowly Normal nodded.

“Was me,” he said with hesitation.

Sam had no doubt of that, but did his best to play surprised. “I thought as much! I must say, if the rumors are true, that arm of yours can do incredible things! Did you tear that door off the hinges like they whisper?”

Normal nodded once more. “I did.”

“With just the one arm?”

“Only one.”

“Well,” Sam smiled as he moved his massaging to higher up on Normal’s back, “that sure is something. You sure are something. “

“I’m nothing,” humbled answered Normal.

“And, so…did you get a lot of money from the bank?” Sam pried some more.

“Oh, yes.”

“How much?”

Normal let out a scoff. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I mean, sure, it doesn’t matter, but you aren’t curious to count? Just to know?”

“Am not.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Not mine.”

“Well, no, you’re right, all the money technically belongs to the people you stole it from, but it’s now yours to spend now.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Not mine,” repeated Normal.

“Sure it is-“

“-For orphans.”

Oh, so that’s it, Sam thought to himself. “Normal, you’re saying you’re going to give all that money you stole to…to the orphans you and Meriem help?”

“For orphans,” agreed Normal matter-of-factly.

“Surely you’ve given them a lot of money already. Haven't you done this before? Robbing banks and giving the loot away, I mean?”

“Many times,” agreed Normal.

“Don’t you ever…don’t you ever think of maybe keeping some of that money for yourself?”

“For orphans,” Normal seemed quite taken aback by the suggestion. Sam quickly pivoted.

“No, no, I understand,” he explained, “but what about keeping some for you in case you run into someone else that needs money too? Wouldn’t you want to be able to help others? What if you used some of that money to, say, get a back massager or pay for regular massages so that you wouldn’t be in pain like this? Don’t you want some money for that too? That would allow your body to be in top shape and then allow you to be even better at robbing banks and then you could give even more to orphans…”

Normal seemed to contemplate what Sam was saying. “Regular massages..?”

“Sure, not necessarily from me, but I know some folks who give better massages than I do. They could help you. Your muscles would be well cared for. If you had some of that bank money you could lend me, I bet I could take it to them on your behalf.”

Normal shook his head. “No need.”

“'No need'? You don’t want massages? You like being in pain?”

“Don’t like.”

“So…what’s the problem? You robbed the bank good. You got a lot of money to spend. Surely a portion of it could be set aside for your own use, such as massages, or-“

“-Already solution,” said Normal with some poise. Sam paused.

“There…there’s already a solution to your stiff muscles?”

Normal nodded.

“That…isn’t regular massages?”

"Not massages."

“Like what?” Sam pressed, curious to know.

Meanwhile, by the fire, Meriem and Sam worked to prepare the cave buffalo steaks for dinner. Flat had seen the look the Sam had given him; it was clear his friend wanted Flat to dive right into grilling Meriem about the location of her spell book. But Flat worried that would affect the good rapport he and Meriem had already begun to build; surely he did not have to rush into such a conversation…?

“Something on your mind, Flat?” asked Meriem, bringing him back. She was poking the buffalo steak through a skewer she apparently had on her.

“Haha, no,” Flat lied poorly, “just…wondering how we’re going to cook these things!”

Meriem giggled. “Over the fire, silly.”

“I know that,” teased back Flat, “I meant with what spices. Or do I presume too much? Will these be basic buffalo steaks? No problem, I just wondered if there’s-“

“-Oh, you’re right,” said Meriem, “they’d probably be a bit bland if we didn’t add something to them. I think I have some salt and pepper in that pile over there.” She pointed to a pink cloth that was wrapped up like a bag. “Maybe you can go and check?”

Obediently, Flat went over. After all, it gave him a chance to scour the area for the spell book as well, which was much less awkward than asking Meriem directly about it, he decided. As he untied the cloth he glanced about but could not see anything that stood out to him as the book the prairie witch had used earlier.

“Are you finding anything, Flat?” Meriem asked innocently, causing Flat’s heartrate to race.

“F-Finding anything?” he repeated nervously, “Am…is there something you think I’m looking for?”

Meriem giggled again. “No, I meant the salt and pepper! That’s what you’re looking for! Why, did you think I meant something else?”

“Haha, oh, no,” Flat awkwardly laughed back as he looked down. As Meriem had indicated, both salt and pepper were before him.

However, while Flat was distracted by the task at hand, Meriem took the opportunity to reach into her cleavage. This time, she pulled out a vial with a reddish powder; with a quick shake she dumped some of it onto two pieces of cave buffalo meat and quickly stuck the vial back down her front unseen. For a second there was a strange sizzle, but the color of the powder matched well to the color of the meat, making it practically undetectable to the naked eye after a moment.

“Do you have the salt and pepper?” Meriem called sweetly again, as if nothing had happened.

“Yes, sorry,” Flat answered, trying to give the area one last look over before he returned by the fire. He was disappointed not to find anything; that meant he would have to try and directly ask about the spell book.

“Now, how much salt and pepper do you and Sam like on your steaks?” Meriem inquired.

“Enough for flavor.”

The prairie witch shook the seasonings onto the two pieces of meat she had placed the powder on. “Like this?”

“Maybe a little more salt.”

“There, that should be good.” She handled the salt and pepper back. “Does that work for you?”

“Don’t you and Normal want some seasonings?” Flat wondered.

“No, it’s fine. We both aren’t big seasoning sorts. Besides, this way I can tell which steaks are yours- the ones with pepper on them!”

Flat shrugged. It seemed a tad odd that Meriem had seasonings if she didn’t enjoy using them, but perhaps this was only in the case of meat. Flat wasn’t going to question it too much. After all, he needed to ask her about the spell book first before asking about dietary habits.

But before he could ask anything further, Meriem was pointing once again to the cloth. “You can put those back, Flat,” she said, “I don’t think we’re going to need them anymore. I do like to keep things organized.”

“Oh, okay, yes,” he nodded, taking the return trip to look at the wall for any special nook or cranny that might have hidden her spell book.

Meriem watched him do so as he went back to the cloth.

What are you up to? She pondered to herself as she observed his movements, though came to no conclusions.