“Thank you for meeting with me Baker Blinker. Are you sure you don’t want a beer?”
“Yes, thanks, but I have one. It’s just hidden inside my leg right now. Silly animations.”
“Silly world!” Karoz said. He was right. It was just a flash in the pan virtual reality in the long run, she thought. Then why is their relationship turning out to be so difficult and twisty-turny? Maybe it was longer lasting that either one of them could imagine presently. World *and* relationship.
“Really love the school, Karoz,” she said. “Thanks for the tour. You’re doing a wonderful job.” She thought about asking when it would open but didn’t want to put any pressure on him.
“Thank you. And thanks for the generous donation. It seems you are doing quite well for yourself lately.” In his mind he reviewed his recent meeting with Dr. Mulholland. She could have something to do with this money. She must have.
“I’m doing okay,” Baker Blinker offered. She thought back to opening the shiny black purse the doctor carried in with her from the woods. All that dough: thousands and thousands of Linden dollars. $L5000 to be precise. “Karoz needs,” the note at the bottom of the purse plainly stated. Signed: Old Kent. And the doctor knew nothing about it. She didn’t know anything about anything. She claimed to have amnesia. Baker Blinker was starting to doubt it.
“But you know Baker Bloch is always willing to give us more lindens if we need it,” Karoz continued. “Within reason, of course. Can’t go off buying ocean liners or whole sims, mind you.”
This made Baker Blinker chuckle. But they were beating about the bushes again. Typical. “I suppose you want to know about her,” she ventured.
Fifteen minutes later, both had more information to chew on. They traded stories about recent gifts from Old Kent. “We went to the spot in the woods she said the tree fell down on her, knocking her unconscious.” explained Baker Blinker at one point. “It was right at coordinates 168, 168. At sunset.” She eyed Karoz knowingly. “Then it must be Unch who did it,” shot back Karoz. “Unch, yes.” Baker replied. But both of them were thinking something further, something more twisty-turny: Maybe this *is* Unch.