Chapter Twenty-one
~
“Why’d it take ya so long to call me back?” Mama hissed. “Hale’s been out of the hoosegow for almost two hours.”
“We had to get somethin’ to eat,” I said.
“That’s a lousy excuse. I may disinherit ya. I’ve been beyond myself. Stressed out the wazoo. Even yar papa’s been pacin’ back and forth. Don’t ya love us? Care anythin’ at all about us. Just disregard us. We just gave ya life. Not important. In the slightest.”
Not like Mama to be so—weird was a good word.
“Hale hasn’t called me. Is he alright? He didn’t have an episode, did he? He okay? How’s he doin’?”
“Great,” I said.
“Great?” She paused. “My baby was just arrested. He’s great?”
Baby? “Wasn’t arrested. They just took him downtown to get his statement.”
“That isn’t what the news is sayin’,” she jabbered.
“Since when do ya believe anythin’ the news reports.”
“It’s all of ’em.” She sounded a little hysterical, honestly. “Sayin’ the same thin’. That he ripped a caucus member to pieces, likely be charged with murder. And that he called an ogre bull a liar.”
“He did do that last part,” I admitted. “And why are ya checkin’ all the stations?”
“Well, when a mama can’t get a call back, she seeks information where she can.”
“How many times has Papa said the main stream media is corrupt? Say anythin’ for a click.”
“Same answer,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. Good thin’ she couldn’t see me, or she’d knock my head into next month. “Why don’t ya let me talk to Papa, while ya relax a bit.”
“I don’t need no stinkin’ relaxin’. Ya little twerp.”
Twerp? She hadn’t called either of us that in a while. Maybe that time I complained about the horrible sunburn I got at the beach. She reminded me our kind have lived in the mines for a millennium, that we had no business bein’ in the sun. Some truth in that.
“So Papa wants us to come home?” Time to change topics.
Mama didn’t speak. I waited a bit longer. Finally she said, “Here.”
Papa’s voice replaced hers. “Hey snookums.” Which sounds sweet in Standish, not so much in Trollish.
I opened my mouth but Papa got to business. That’s my papa. “Yar Uncle Ike has bought out all the champagne at the local package store. Evidently he thinks this whole thin’ is wonderful. I think he’s an idjit. But he’s the politician.
“Plans a big celebration.” Oh—thus the liquor buyin’.
I closed my eyes, a bit stumped. “Explain, please.”
“Evidently this puts his mate’s normalization platform in a different light.”
Funny he hates to use Nuel’s name. “Uh, what kind of light?” I asked.
“The opposition to it, off the back burner,” he said.
“Celebratin’ that ought to rile Aunt Nuel a bit, doncha think?”
“Couldn’t care less,” Papa said. “Ya comin’ home, or pushin’ yar trip North up?”
“So, we aren’t encouraged to stick around?” I asked.
“Think ya’ve done more than was expected already,” Papa said. “But—”
“But what?” I waited, even too long for Papa to collect his thoughts.
“There’s a contingent so ecstatic—”
Again, I had to wait so long I worried we’d lost the connection.
“Ready to vote the two of ya as partner clan leaders. Even put yar names out for the Greater Council.”
“Ya’re lyin’, surely.”
“Not even exaggeratin’,” he said.
Our lives would come to an end. Ick.
~
Hale
~
“He’s not tellin’ us what he thinks we should do?” I asked a second time, since, it isn’t uncommon for me to miss sarcasm.
Bele shrugged. I was tryin’ to analyze the shrug when the hotel line rang. Who knew those thin’s even worked these days. I think, but I’m not sure, Bele gave me a don’t-look-at-me look. I motioned a suggestion to her to answer it. I wasn’t gonna willin’ly talk to a stranger if I didn’t have to.
She answered then did some listenin’. She looked at the bare wall as though a message might majically appear, explainin’ somethin’ profound to her. She nodded a couple times. Pretty sure the folk on the line wasn’t pickin’ that up, but maybe one of Bele’s witch buddies had called her. She gave whomever our suite number and hung up.
Didn’t like the look on her face, even though I had no idea what it suggested.
“Don’t look so worried,” she mumbled.
The witch thought I was worried.
“And stop callin’ me a witch.”
Witch.
She scrunched up her eyes. Whatever. She was gonna need to be more transparent. I waited. Did we need to do somethin’? Was someone comin’ up here? That sounded like the most reasonable possibility, but odd Bele wasn’t talkin’. She is half ogre hen. Shoulda been givin’ me an earful.
I waited, sat back in the armchair. Two minutes later a knock at the door finally motivated Bele to move. She almost jogged to the door, acknowledged whoever it was cordially, so I stood. Figgered I could act polite-like.
The smilin’ countenance of the local clan leader peered around Bele at me. “Ya youngling, have raised more excitement than the last eclipse,” he said walkin’ toward me. He stopped five feet away from me. A little close. I have a wider personal space requirement than most. “Officially, I’m notifyin’ ya ya’re under Greater Council sanction.”
“Wow,” Bele hawed. “The Greater Council has already—”
“Political types can get thin’s done in a hurry when it’s—in the majority’s best interest.”
What did that mean? Bele asked that out loud.
“We acted, so can’t be accused of brushin’ it under the table. Can we sit?”
Bele motioned him to the couch, and she took the settee. I returned to the armchair. Not as comfy as the couch, but I like my arms supported. Otherwise I never know what to do with my hands.
Like a politician, within a few words his double-speak drew a cloud of oh-can’t-this-end over my eyes. Not that I allowed my mind to wander. I let Bele do all the noddin’ while I struggled to pull out the important words.
After ten minutes I think he had admitted to which side he was on, but wasn’t very clear. Seemed to want the clans of the area to think he was this way or that, while still bein’ able to appear as though he was open—for whatever.
When he stopped talkin’ five minutes later—I could tell Bele was confused too, considerin’ her eyes were closed and any features I usually saw on her face dependin’, were absent. I watched her, waitin’. Decided she wasn’t gonna speak.
“I think,” I started, “ya think I’m a fool. But don’t mind if I attend the last of the hoedown, to show—that’s when I lost ya.”
The ogre laughed. Slapped the nice silk and wool coverin’ his knee, and stood. “The majority, though ticked a youngling acted disrespectfully, respect ya for voicin’ yar opinion, though it was unexpected, considerin’ who ya’re related to, and where ya’re from.”
Bele hurrin’ to rise clued me in I needed to also, while I thought about this shorter set of more comprehendable words.
“And the minority?” Bele prompted.
The clan leader lost any of his smile. “A small enough group of fools we can ignore.”
He extended his hand to her, and then me, and strode from the suite.
We stood unmovin’ for a bit. We had been violently thrust into politics we’re not armed to deal with, unable to comprehend, clearly. A strange quote, no idea where it's from, came to mind—slaughter of babes.
“Did he say there might be those who might want to—harm us?” Bele asked.
Had he? I thought about the jumble of thoughts that bounced around in my head. Maybe he had. A half-moment later Bele’s phone rang. She acted as though she might let it go to message, but she angled her head to look at the face, then lunged to answer it.
“Hey, Uncle,” she said.
Great. Uncle Ike. Got us into this. Likely dig our hole deeper. Throw a spade of dirt on us after.
“If ya think that’s—uh, okay.” She nodded a couple more times. When the conversation evidently ended, she said to me, “Uncle Jam is sendin’ a constable to stay with us until we head North.”
Are we stickin’ around here til Friday?
“I don’t know. Do ya wanna?”
Did I? Do ya?
“I asked ya first.”
The final banquet was always supposed to be pretty nice.
~
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