“Iowa??” Daniel eyes the red car wall decor mounted above Father Fecked sitting at the counter, knows where this is heading. Iowa?? he says to himself this time.
“Mountain in the Air,” Newt metes out. Knew he was going to say that, Daniel thinks. Roger Pine Ridge. Or was it Marty?
Turns out it was both.
——
“Roger Pine Ridge is sick on Pill. That malady is spreading throughout the state, maybe something to do with the corn I don’t know.”
“Or Hy-Vee in particular,” spouts Daniel, proud of his addition.
“Okay, *corn* in Hy-Vee, let’s say.”
“Alright.” Always has to one up me, Daniel thinks here.
“But patient 01 — or I suppose patient 00 is the way they put it…”
“Yeah?”
“Roger Pine Ridge.”
“Yeah I remember him from the blog. *And* the attached photo-novels.” Always have to tack that on after mention of precious blog, Daniel thinks, or else Newt *could* get upset. Doesn’t always happen but he doesn’t want to take the chance. Gotta get to the bottom of this tonight. As in: bottom of the state.
“Right,” says Newt. “So he can’t sit in front of the Beaconsfield Hy-Vee, um, building, the original location. Can’t wait for Marty any longer.”
“I see.” Indeed he did. More than he wanted to let on. You see, his memory is excellent and he recalls what happened to Roger Pine Ridge at this location in the blog. “You’re… putting me in a place similar to the castle,” he reveals what he’s gleaned. “Wooden. So wooden I can’t smoke there either. And (he turns toward the 4th wall, looks for a camera), all because of a laugh? At my expense?”
“There’s the wind too,” Newt doubles down on the laughs. “You can’t smoke because of that either. Wood and wind.”
“*Great*, THANKS.”
“Have you packed your bags?” Newt asks, understanding time doesn’t exist here, not in Cedar Creek, not in Nawt Vaya either, anywhere in Our Second Lyfe. Maybe not even in Iowa.
“No. I mean: yes; what the heck: yes. I’m packed. I’m ready to go. Am… I already there?”
“Yes.” TBC?
Sunklands 