With my fourth try, the empire toppled and its prisoner released. Free at last, free at last.
The refugee went back with Brent and Laurel for safe keeping. I’m sure he’ll be well taken care of until he’s delivered to his new home and guardian.
Brooke was impressed with my victory. After leaving the booth, hefting that immense stuffie, I was forced to come clean about my fictitious sibling.
“You mean you DON’T have an 8-year old sister who absolutely adores porcupines?”
Yes, in hindsight, perhaps the idea does stretch one’s credulity a bit, considering the age difference. Though, “I never said she was eight!”
“Uh huh.” Pause. “Well, what ARE you planning to do with the little guy, then?”
“Well… I…”
Snatch. Hug. HUG. Butterflies. “I love it. Thank you.”
All that money, all that frustration, all that embarrassment, immediately worth it. Phillip the Provcupine, (“Howard sounds too formal”) is now right where he belongs – or will be soon.
Laurel was wise enough to bring, and kind enough to share some motion sickness medication. That made the tilting and whirling a lot more tolerable, even though I did suffer drowsy spells on occasion.
We even went through the… Words… words… aimless mumbling. Almost… just… out… of...
Ok. No one should be able to overhear.
I’m on an “Ibuprofen break.” Old man pains, etc. I want to get this down but talking about it in front of everyone feels disrespectful.
Brase is missing. The others are mostly annoyed or angry, but I feel something else, something very strange. His siblings and long-term friends certainly know him better than I do, but, I just can’t shake it.
I’ll tell you what happened so you can decide for yourself.
At the fair, we started with all the standard stuff : rides, foods, meandering. I saved my showdown with the bottles until after we ate. “You’ll aim better with a full stomach,” Cal assured me.
When the time came to confront my nemeses, Brooke and Cal joined me. While we were away, a comment was made. Brent stopped one of the workers and, jokingly, said, “Excuse me. Do you know if you have any job openings here? My brother could really use one.”
Though I didn’t witness the exchange first-hand, Brase’s reaction, at least, is not in question. He was not happy about Brent’s passive-aggressive dig. Brase is currently not “officially” employed. (I don’t know what that qualification means), and this is not the first time that Brent has made a disparaging comment about it.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
I was present for one of them, but assumed it was, like most of the group’s intra-hazing, all in good fun. The three siblings seem to function more as best friends than kin, but apparently there are some sore spots in those bonds. Brent invited Brase to stay with him during his fight with their parents, but he, too, isn’t terribly excited about Brase’s lackadaisical mindset toward gainful employment. It is suspected that without Laurel’s influence the housing offer may not have been made.
Still, after some initial tension, Brase seemed to let tonight’s comment go. When Brooke, Cal and I returned, hoisting the hard-won porcupine, everything seemed normal, and the night went on as expected. I didn’t hear about the dust-up until Brase’s disappearance.
We decided the next order of business was to see our old pal Ergo again. Though the fortune teller obviously recognized us – he explicitly stated it – Brent insisted on using a DIFFERENT alias. R.I.P. uh… whatever his name was. Ergo played along throughout the interview process, but at the end gave Brent, word-for-word, the same fortune from their last encounter. Brent enjoyed this outcome.
The rest of us received new, but equally useless fortunes. As soon as I sat down, Ergo greeted me as “Providence,” with the faintest smirk. Brooke chuckled beside me.
Throughout the questionnaire that followed, I reflected on how different things had been when I last sat across from Ergo : how much had happened, how circumstances had changed, how I had changed. I’d graduated from nervous and nauseous to, well, I was still pretty nervous around Brooke, but a GOOD nervous, if that makes any sense. Ergo regarded us as a couple, questioning her multiple times during my interview. Yet, when it was her turn to take the chair, she STILL received a forecast about meeting a charming suitor in the future. That soured me on the guy a bit. Brooke just laughed.
We left the tent, discussing what to do next. “Maybe I want a porcupine, too, Have you thought of that?” Brent was saying.
“Maybe we all want porcupines,” Dean agreed, “and we can snuggle down with them and take our nappies on the ferris wheel. Won’t that be fun???”
Before I could reply, Brooke squeezed my hand. Leaning close, she whispered, “They’ll never understand what we have, Phillip and I.”
She released me, tipped her hand in front of her mouth, and walked toward the nearest beverage vendor. Porcupines have all the luck.
Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling, a big, meaty grin spreading across my face...
… Which promptly drooped into a frown when I heard my name frantically spoken. Following the voice, I looked to Cal. Though he continued to quietly call to me, his gaze was fixed on something near the corner of the tent we’d just exited.
“Cal, what--”
He was turned away. If I hadn’t recognized the posture, slightly stooped, head swiveling suspiciously, I would have at least recognized the hooded jacket he wore. It was the same one I’d seen him in three days earlier.
Not to mention his other VERY distinguishing feature, though in the shadow of the tent, his face was barely visible, an irregular, black smear in the shade of his hood.
He scrutinized Ergo’s line. As I watched him, though, his attention slowly shifted, finally settling on Cal.
“Uh-uh,” Cal announced, jogging toward the line and, I assumed, the attendant at its summit. He paused, though, when he saw another pair of employees strolling down the concourse, nearer at hand. Altering course, he hurried toward them.
As soon as Cal reached them, his arm shot out, pointing toward the tent. But when the employees -- and I -- directed our gazes in that direction, its previous occupant was already gone.