Afterthought (Silas, Tiffany, & Ionone)
Quote from Adriana on May 5, 2019, 9:21 pm"Jack Moren. Not to be confused with Jack Moron, allergic to dogs. Copy that. Call me if you need anything." I checked the left lane blind spot, flipped my blinker and jumped over. Morning was a long time til coffee, but I seriously doubt the clerk at the corner store would appreciate a wolf helping himself to their coffee maker. On the other hand, they were minimum wage and probably sleep deprived, ergo it'd probably just be another night at the corner store. Too tired to do anything than open a cash register-let alone write a witness statement about a bipedal mutt at the coffee machine. Still, I decided it would have to wait. I had a change of clothes in the back, and a couple pack of cigarettes stashed in the glove box. That would have to do.
---
It was almost impossible to stay awake. I blinked once and it was three AM. I blinked again, the clock read "4 : 57 AM". Almost sunrirse. If I thought I was hairy now, I couldn't wait until I saw the shadow on my face. I'd been keeping my facial hair short, but Greek-Italian genes were not conducive to the clean shaven look. I stayed awake this time, watching the road for my Mr. Moren, hopefully gazing on at every eighteen wheeler passing through.
The sun came up. Another full moon survived. My form whittled away into the less impressive man, and I got changed in the car, something I had done plenty of times before. I got it down to approximately three minutes, forty seconds. Soon I was in black slacks, black oxfords, and a navy blue button up, rolled casually at the sleeves. I slicked my hair back-no matter what effort I went through to get it to sit flat, it curled rebelliously at the ends. I slipped on a silver watch, but decided against the tie. Then I fixed my eyes on the road and waited some more.
"Jack Moren. Not to be confused with Jack Moron, allergic to dogs. Copy that. Call me if you need anything." I checked the left lane blind spot, flipped my blinker and jumped over. Morning was a long time til coffee, but I seriously doubt the clerk at the corner store would appreciate a wolf helping himself to their coffee maker. On the other hand, they were minimum wage and probably sleep deprived, ergo it'd probably just be another night at the corner store. Too tired to do anything than open a cash register-let alone write a witness statement about a bipedal mutt at the coffee machine. Still, I decided it would have to wait. I had a change of clothes in the back, and a couple pack of cigarettes stashed in the glove box. That would have to do.
---
It was almost impossible to stay awake. I blinked once and it was three AM. I blinked again, the clock read "4 : 57 AM". Almost sunrirse. If I thought I was hairy now, I couldn't wait until I saw the shadow on my face. I'd been keeping my facial hair short, but Greek-Italian genes were not conducive to the clean shaven look. I stayed awake this time, watching the road for my Mr. Moren, hopefully gazing on at every eighteen wheeler passing through.
The sun came up. Another full moon survived. My form whittled away into the less impressive man, and I got changed in the car, something I had done plenty of times before. I got it down to approximately three minutes, forty seconds. Soon I was in black slacks, black oxfords, and a navy blue button up, rolled casually at the sleeves. I slicked my hair back-no matter what effort I went through to get it to sit flat, it curled rebelliously at the ends. I slipped on a silver watch, but decided against the tie. Then I fixed my eyes on the road and waited some more.
Quote from Mae on May 6, 2019, 10:24 amThe sun crept into the sky like a caterpillar out of the earth. Higher and higher it climbed. Trucks came. Trucks went. Trucks stopped. Trucks left. None of the trucks matched the description. By ten o'clock, it seemed clear that Jack Moren would not be coming.
Before the sun reached its meridian position in the sky, however, its light superseded the shadow of the hills. Brightness engulfed the landscape. The windows of passing trucks and cars flashed. The shadows in the doorways of the public outhouse deepened. And something previously hidden behind the bright red trash receptacle glinted.
The sun crept into the sky like a caterpillar out of the earth. Higher and higher it climbed. Trucks came. Trucks went. Trucks stopped. Trucks left. None of the trucks matched the description. By ten o'clock, it seemed clear that Jack Moren would not be coming.
Before the sun reached its meridian position in the sky, however, its light superseded the shadow of the hills. Brightness engulfed the landscape. The windows of passing trucks and cars flashed. The shadows in the doorways of the public outhouse deepened. And something previously hidden behind the bright red trash receptacle glinted.
Quote from Adriana on May 6, 2019, 3:00 pmI sighed and leaned back in my seat, drumming my fingers along my knee, watching, waiting.
That's when I saw it. I took out my Browning .22 pistol which was locked on a holster connected to the underside of my dash, and tucked it into it's place on my ankle, turned the ignition off and stepped out of Arcadia. Lifting a cigarette to my mouth and holding it between my lips, I lit it and began to make my way to the trash container, braced myself, and peered around it carefully.
I sighed and leaned back in my seat, drumming my fingers along my knee, watching, waiting.
That's when I saw it. I took out my Browning .22 pistol which was locked on a holster connected to the underside of my dash, and tucked it into it's place on my ankle, turned the ignition off and stepped out of Arcadia. Lifting a cigarette to my mouth and holding it between my lips, I lit it and began to make my way to the trash container, braced myself, and peered around it carefully.
Quote from Mae on May 6, 2019, 8:26 pmThe outcome of the investigation was a medium-sized tin can with a hefty amount of paper inside. It had the appearance of something chucked from the window of a passerby, but something about its concealed location in the weed and grass appeared awfully intentional.
Upon further investigation, the wads of paper and tissue stuffed in the can proved a disguise for the neatly folded papers, carefully preserved, in a sandwich bag underneath. These papers appeared to be important, and even further investigation revealed why: It was a map, marked with ink, accompanied by multiple out-of-the way locations along a predetermined route.
The outcome of the investigation was a medium-sized tin can with a hefty amount of paper inside. It had the appearance of something chucked from the window of a passerby, but something about its concealed location in the weed and grass appeared awfully intentional.
Upon further investigation, the wads of paper and tissue stuffed in the can proved a disguise for the neatly folded papers, carefully preserved, in a sandwich bag underneath. These papers appeared to be important, and even further investigation revealed why: It was a map, marked with ink, accompanied by multiple out-of-the way locations along a predetermined route.
Quote from Adriana on May 6, 2019, 8:44 pmI raised an eyebrow, turning the map in my hands. When Daine had said game, I hadn't thought she meant a literal game. I continued to hold the map in my hands, the cigarette between two fingers preciously angled away from the paper. I dropped it and stepped it into the gravel, turning on a heel back to the car.
Sitting, I pinched my brows and picked up the car phone, connecting it to Diane.
I raised an eyebrow, turning the map in my hands. When Daine had said game, I hadn't thought she meant a literal game. I continued to hold the map in my hands, the cigarette between two fingers preciously angled away from the paper. I dropped it and stepped it into the gravel, turning on a heel back to the car.
Sitting, I pinched my brows and picked up the car phone, connecting it to Diane.
Quote from Adriana on May 7, 2019, 4:22 pmI put the carphone back on the receiver. I only had one option. And that was to obey the map. Ask and ye shall receive.
After a much needed stop at Milly's Cafe and Bakery on the corner of Main Street, and then a less needed, however necessary, gas stop, I was on the road again. I picked up an up to date map of the surrounding areas to compare against the treasure map I had discovered, just to make sure the routes were still the same. Then I made for the first location.
It had been a long night, and now it was looking like my day wasn't going to be any better.
Driving with one hand and eating danishes or drinking coffee with the other, I wondered how, why and by whom this adventure was orchestrated. Then I began to think I should have waited for that Mr. Moren, maybe he would have showed up eventually. Maybe he got pulled over and had something to hide. Or maybe he never existed to begin with. The map was clearly there to be found, whatever the case.
Then the more dramatic, somewhat less likely and yet still feasible reasons for this started to surface in my mind. The kind of thoughts that soon had me driving along with my window down, chain smoking for the next several miles. I didn't exactly have a good track record with crime syndicates. I'd always managed to make myself the black sheep of the black sheep. Still, I'd hoped Diane would have less reason to do me in than her father-who had what was probably really good reason if he was privy to all that had transpired in spite of his knowledge.
Unless he had found out about everything after Diane had been injured. How would he not find out? She was his daughter. Did she make up an excuse? Come clean? Did he look into it? Did he know what it was? If he had found out... was this her way of repaying me for not doing a better job at keeping her safe, both physically and from whatever manifestation of her fathers wrath may or may not have come about?
My mind sprawled about two dozen different directions, and I imagined an old meat warehouse and a few shadowed figures with guns, me traipsing in with some skeevy map to find my X marks the spot in the form of a bullet between my eyes.
HHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONKKKKKK
With a few dozen curse words, I swerved back to my side of the road and listened to the driver of the Ford pickup curse his own string of expletives, fading in the wind. My eyes were probably the size of saucers and I think my heart was still in the process of starting again, so I decided to pull over and catch my breath, get some air. At this rate, nobody would have to do me in. I seemed determined to do it myself.
Cigarette in hand, I examined the map again, pacing up and down the side of the road. I glanced at the area to see if there was anything that seemed familiar, but the hills made it difficult to figure out exactly where my first stop would be.
I put the carphone back on the receiver. I only had one option. And that was to obey the map. Ask and ye shall receive.
After a much needed stop at Milly's Cafe and Bakery on the corner of Main Street, and then a less needed, however necessary, gas stop, I was on the road again. I picked up an up to date map of the surrounding areas to compare against the treasure map I had discovered, just to make sure the routes were still the same. Then I made for the first location.
It had been a long night, and now it was looking like my day wasn't going to be any better.
Driving with one hand and eating danishes or drinking coffee with the other, I wondered how, why and by whom this adventure was orchestrated. Then I began to think I should have waited for that Mr. Moren, maybe he would have showed up eventually. Maybe he got pulled over and had something to hide. Or maybe he never existed to begin with. The map was clearly there to be found, whatever the case.
Then the more dramatic, somewhat less likely and yet still feasible reasons for this started to surface in my mind. The kind of thoughts that soon had me driving along with my window down, chain smoking for the next several miles. I didn't exactly have a good track record with crime syndicates. I'd always managed to make myself the black sheep of the black sheep. Still, I'd hoped Diane would have less reason to do me in than her father-who had what was probably really good reason if he was privy to all that had transpired in spite of his knowledge.
Unless he had found out about everything after Diane had been injured. How would he not find out? She was his daughter. Did she make up an excuse? Come clean? Did he look into it? Did he know what it was? If he had found out... was this her way of repaying me for not doing a better job at keeping her safe, both physically and from whatever manifestation of her fathers wrath may or may not have come about?
My mind sprawled about two dozen different directions, and I imagined an old meat warehouse and a few shadowed figures with guns, me traipsing in with some skeevy map to find my X marks the spot in the form of a bullet between my eyes.
HHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONKKKKKK
With a few dozen curse words, I swerved back to my side of the road and listened to the driver of the Ford pickup curse his own string of expletives, fading in the wind. My eyes were probably the size of saucers and I think my heart was still in the process of starting again, so I decided to pull over and catch my breath, get some air. At this rate, nobody would have to do me in. I seemed determined to do it myself.
Cigarette in hand, I examined the map again, pacing up and down the side of the road. I glanced at the area to see if there was anything that seemed familiar, but the hills made it difficult to figure out exactly where my first stop would be.
Quote from Mae on May 7, 2019, 10:44 pmA road map provides very little by way of detail to the landscape, and how much land around Pinerich city was mountain country could only be ascertained by percentage estimate. There were still areas of the north country that never saw man; forests too dense to populate; mountains too treacherous to climb; wilderness too inhospitable to consider. Hills, forests, and small settlements spanned the south horizon - a vista afforded only by the elevation of the land, which rose steadily with constant faithfulness to the mountains, blotting out the north horizon. Right between the two vistas was the city herself, well named, for it was heavily besieged by trees prospering off the Monvac River. The only suggestion of the rolling landscape on the map were the lines, indicating roads, bending far out of their way to go in any single direction. In reality, the roads marked the only negotiable plane between dimensions; everywhere else was wilderness.
Set in the midst of this wilderness, out of sight but never too far from civilization, was each location on the map. No vista, small or great, would reveal them. Each mark on the landscape had to be sought, or else never found. Some locations dotted the saddle of Middlecrest, others were in and around Pinerich city. The nearest location was some miles off the road, in the heavily forested north-western hills.
A road map provides very little by way of detail to the landscape, and how much land around Pinerich city was mountain country could only be ascertained by percentage estimate. There were still areas of the north country that never saw man; forests too dense to populate; mountains too treacherous to climb; wilderness too inhospitable to consider. Hills, forests, and small settlements spanned the south horizon - a vista afforded only by the elevation of the land, which rose steadily with constant faithfulness to the mountains, blotting out the north horizon. Right between the two vistas was the city herself, well named, for it was heavily besieged by trees prospering off the Monvac River. The only suggestion of the rolling landscape on the map were the lines, indicating roads, bending far out of their way to go in any single direction. In reality, the roads marked the only negotiable plane between dimensions; everywhere else was wilderness.
Set in the midst of this wilderness, out of sight but never too far from civilization, was each location on the map. No vista, small or great, would reveal them. Each mark on the landscape had to be sought, or else never found. Some locations dotted the saddle of Middlecrest, others were in and around Pinerich city. The nearest location was some miles off the road, in the heavily forested north-western hills.
Quote from Adriana on May 8, 2019, 8:20 pmI pinched my brows together and put out the cigarette like I had a million times before. I gazed at the map and then the lay of the land again, and knew where my first stop would be. I got back into my car and drove her a little further up the road, then pulled off and parked her a ways into the field. I took my dart gun out of the trunk strapped it across my back, locked up Arcadia, then began forward, following a splotch of ink on a map.
I'd be lying if I said my first thoughts in all of this weren't how dusty my car was going to be, how I'll probably scuff my shoes. I'm a simple man with simple needs. To have clean shoes, a clean car and to not get dead. More or less in that order.
The long walk to the middle of nowhere gave me plenty of time to think about my life. Particularly every life choice leading up to this moment, which was an easy feat in the thirty-forty minutes it would take to get to wherever it was I was going. I could have changed into my secondary form-nobody would see me out here, but I couldn't be bothered. Besides, I actually liked walking. It was good exercise for my mind and body, and I'd been basically immobile up until yesterday.
"Regrets, I've had a few, but then again, to few to mention, I did what I had to do, and saw it through, without exemption."
I sung aloud to the Frank Sinatra playing in my head. My eyes wandered hither and thither,
"I planned each charted course, each careful step-along the byway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way."
If anybody saw me, they might definitely have me admitted to an institution. C'est la vie, as they say.
"Yes there were times, I'm sure you knew-when I bit off, more than I could chew. But through it all, when there was doubt, I ate it up, and spit it out."
The grass got thick, and turned into bramble and brush. The ground became steeper, and soon trees dotted the landscape around me, before swallowing me up.
"For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, than he hath not. To say the things, he truly feels, and not the words, of one who kneels. The record shows-I took the blows-and did it my way."
I was carefully stepping through brush and briar, attempting not to snag my pant legs, trying desperately to avoid the inevitable. I decided if I didn't snag my pants today, I would do a little gambling tomorrow. The tune of different Sinatra songs kept going in my head, but I decided to spare the forest animals. Besides that, I didn't know where this map was taking me. Opting for stealth, I continued forward, but I had to be getting close to the marked place...
I pinched my brows together and put out the cigarette like I had a million times before. I gazed at the map and then the lay of the land again, and knew where my first stop would be. I got back into my car and drove her a little further up the road, then pulled off and parked her a ways into the field. I took my dart gun out of the trunk strapped it across my back, locked up Arcadia, then began forward, following a splotch of ink on a map.
I'd be lying if I said my first thoughts in all of this weren't how dusty my car was going to be, how I'll probably scuff my shoes. I'm a simple man with simple needs. To have clean shoes, a clean car and to not get dead. More or less in that order.
The long walk to the middle of nowhere gave me plenty of time to think about my life. Particularly every life choice leading up to this moment, which was an easy feat in the thirty-forty minutes it would take to get to wherever it was I was going. I could have changed into my secondary form-nobody would see me out here, but I couldn't be bothered. Besides, I actually liked walking. It was good exercise for my mind and body, and I'd been basically immobile up until yesterday.
"Regrets, I've had a few, but then again, to few to mention, I did what I had to do, and saw it through, without exemption."
I sung aloud to the Frank Sinatra playing in my head. My eyes wandered hither and thither,
"I planned each charted course, each careful step-along the byway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way."
If anybody saw me, they might definitely have me admitted to an institution. C'est la vie, as they say.
"Yes there were times, I'm sure you knew-when I bit off, more than I could chew. But through it all, when there was doubt, I ate it up, and spit it out."
The grass got thick, and turned into bramble and brush. The ground became steeper, and soon trees dotted the landscape around me, before swallowing me up.
"For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, than he hath not. To say the things, he truly feels, and not the words, of one who kneels. The record shows-I took the blows-and did it my way."
I was carefully stepping through brush and briar, attempting not to snag my pant legs, trying desperately to avoid the inevitable. I decided if I didn't snag my pants today, I would do a little gambling tomorrow. The tune of different Sinatra songs kept going in my head, but I decided to spare the forest animals. Besides that, I didn't know where this map was taking me. Opting for stealth, I continued forward, but I had to be getting close to the marked place...
Quote from Mae on May 9, 2019, 5:36 pmIf the road map made a poor topographical map, it made an even worse trail map. That is to say, there was no trail to speak of - the road lines ended, the location was a splotch of ink on blank, and all that lay between them was anyone's guess. Forests obscured hills, hills obscured forests, and where a trail ought to have been there was nothing but bramble.
Yet, for all its irritating discontinuity, the trek was marked by beauty. The morning light made each leaf and tree look painted, and each leaf and tree painted the morning light. The smells of earth and water (for there were many streams in the area) grew thick in the air as the sounds of cars and trucks faded on the highway. Both the beauty and the shame of it was that around every tree, every boulder, and every dell, the forest seemed to go on forever.
However, just when the prospect of finding the "ink splotch" was looking dismal, and the possibility of getting lost looking more likely, a gravel road suddenly appeared underfoot. The verdure had grown up so thickly that the road went completely unseen; One moment was characterized by forest and bramble, the next was stone and grit. Nonetheless, the road was wide enough for a single lane and spanned in both directions unobscured. If the bearings were correct, one direction wound back around to the highway, the other continued through the forest north-west. However, neither direction were indicated by any line or road on the map.
If the road map made a poor topographical map, it made an even worse trail map. That is to say, there was no trail to speak of - the road lines ended, the location was a splotch of ink on blank, and all that lay between them was anyone's guess. Forests obscured hills, hills obscured forests, and where a trail ought to have been there was nothing but bramble.
Yet, for all its irritating discontinuity, the trek was marked by beauty. The morning light made each leaf and tree look painted, and each leaf and tree painted the morning light. The smells of earth and water (for there were many streams in the area) grew thick in the air as the sounds of cars and trucks faded on the highway. Both the beauty and the shame of it was that around every tree, every boulder, and every dell, the forest seemed to go on forever.
However, just when the prospect of finding the "ink splotch" was looking dismal, and the possibility of getting lost looking more likely, a gravel road suddenly appeared underfoot. The verdure had grown up so thickly that the road went completely unseen; One moment was characterized by forest and bramble, the next was stone and grit. Nonetheless, the road was wide enough for a single lane and spanned in both directions unobscured. If the bearings were correct, one direction wound back around to the highway, the other continued through the forest north-west. However, neither direction were indicated by any line or road on the map.
