Chapter Twenty
~
Hale didn’t have his phone on speaker, but I still heard Beky screech, did you really do what they’re saying you did?
He had said he had thirty-three missed calls and a hundred-seven texts. Funny to me that he chose to call back the little orc before even callin’ Mama. She’d be waitin’ for his call, no doubt.
I heard the orc’s melodious laughter after Hale grunted an uh huh. Maybe gave me a bit of a smile, though I scolded myself for enjoyin’ a humorous moment, considerin’ the gravity of Hale’s crime. Yeah, we call Uncle a stinkin’ lyin’ ogre all the time. That’s in private. Family to family. Like callin’ a sibling stupid. But ya don’t call a stranger stupid, and ya certainly don’t call any ogre ya don’t love, a liar. Has been a cultural doctrine long before any pinhead began writin’ down dos and don’ts and callin’ ’em law.
I let out a long breath, tryin’ to recover from the drama of gettin’ out of the constable’s office. Imagine, there were a couple of staff photographers. Who knew the incident would draw so many to rant their ire. And surprisin’ly, assert support. There were smiles. Who’d have expected that? I think the angry folk were supporters of the idjit layin’ in a hospital bed somewhere. Those in the wrong are always the most vocal. As though shoutin’ makes a lie a truth.
Doesn’t even have to be a lie. Expressin’ any opinion at the top of yar lungs I guess sounds more saintly.
Kla and Gai spoke softly in the front. Frowns and embarrassed smiles interminglin’. Kla giggled, and covered her mouth quickly. Gai looked out the window, maybe hidin’ his own smile. Hale continued to do a lot of listenin’ on his call with Beky, so I took the time to browse through my own texts. The app’s counter couldn’t be right, so I ignored it. Most, oddly, were simple emojis. I guess they knew I’d be busy and not have time to read a lot. Struck me I was gettin’ more texts than I have contacts. How could that be? I’m an introvert, guess I get that from Hale, and for always bein’ such the odd one out, as the sayin’ goes. Not a lot of ogre-trolls in any group in the Range, or anywhere else. That bein’ said, I can’t say I have a lot of acquaintances. So how’d all these people I hardly know of, get my phone number?
Kla pulled up in front of the hotel’s lobby, and we exited. I thanked them for the ride and I hurried a quick glad-to-meet-ya, since there was a good chance we wouldn’t see them again. Hale didn’t acknowledge ’em—no surprise. He couldn’t interrupt Beky. How could she have so much to say?
I followed Hale inside, expressin’ a long ahhh, as the AC flowed over my face. No way could I get used to the climate here. I will always be a Range hen. Whoops. Hale turned left, toward the lounge area, and selected an overstuffed armchair. What? He ignored my pointed, irritated glare. Surprise, that.
When ya’re left hangin’ ya look around like an idjit. Which I did. Oh. I could check for messages. I had to wait a few minutes as the two at the front desk checked in new folk. I checked my watch. Yep. It was that late in the day. Finally I got some attention, and the ogre’s eyes broadened. Yep. He recognized who I had to be. Like, how many ogre-trolls are there? He handed me an overnight mailer. Should be from Hale’s professor buddy, with our visas. So how did that work? He have a second job in Customs?
~
Hale
~
Bele flipped an envelope into my lap as Beky was in her fifth minute of tellin’ me goodbye. I thought ogre hens are long winded. But I did enjoy hearin’ her voice. The fact she enjoyed talkin’ at me, made me feel kind of special. Never had met anyone I got that impression—I’ll call it appreciation—from. Not that I’m good with impressions. She came out and said she liked lookin’ at me, and talkin’ with me. Not that we’d spent much time in each other’s company, or that I say much.
I’ve mostly been called borin’ lookin’. Mostly trollish, without the long face that looks a little wilted. Have to admit I embrace the more feature-rich countenance of my ogre side. Though I don’t find humans ugly, as ogres do. Maybe why I’m so drawn to Beky. In many ways, a tiny human, but with those cute, slightly-pointed ears, button nose. Needle teeth, that put off humans, don’t bother me in the slightest.
Should I let my hair grow back out? Insults the giants that I wear it human-like. But it’s so comfortable.
Beky ended with a love ya.
And I choked.
Bele looked at me, some expression, who knows, washin’ her face. “Ya gonna live?”
I swallowed hard, and cleared my throat. Okay. It was over. “She said, ‘love ya’.”
Bele smiled. I recognize smiles. Not on everyone, but I’ve gotten used to them in family.
“Doesn’t necessarily mean she loves ya,” she said. “It can be—”
I waited.
“An endearment, to show—ya mean more to her than the cop that gave her a ticket.”
“She got a ticket?” How would Bele know that?
“I’m not bein’ literal,” she said.
That didn’t help.
“Uh—she cares that maybe a relationship is growin’ between ya.”
I sighed, because that’s what frustrated people do. “Why didn’t ya just say that to begin with?”
“’Cause I’m an idjit, okay? Sorry.” She gave me a strong look.
I waited.
“Sorry.” She shrugged. “I sometimes, once in a great sometimes, forget ya’re both a genius and an idjit.”
I think that was her bein’ mean, but softly.
“Why are we sittin’ in the lobby?” she asked.
“I have an ogre stomach, ya know. It’s after three in the afternoon. I need to eat.”
She made another strong face. Wish she’d just talk. I’m not a witch that can read her mind.
“Shut up with the witch stuff.”
Witch.
“I’ll smack ya.”
“The hotel restaurant doesn’t open for another hour,” I said.
“That means we either get fast food across the street, or we find Mama’s car and go searchin’.”
“We can use an app—”
“Shut up,” she said.
“Isn’t that a little like callin’ someone a liar?”
“Ya know callin’ a hen a liar doesn’t break doctrine?” she asked.
I shrugged.
“So chauvinist,” she said.
But then hens can’t say good mornin’ without there bein’ a lie involved.
“I’m so gonna beat ya to death.”
I think that was an exaggeration. I hate folk, exaggeratin’.
She tilted her head. “I know ya do. Let’s just walk across the street. We got a ton of messages to answer.”
~
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