“This is not ideal, Philip Dilip.”
“I know, I know,” he gruffly relented. “It’s all we could afford. Rent here is out the roof!”
“You said something about Clyde. Where is Clyde?” Billy Jean Kidd puts her hands on her hips for emphasis. This was important!
“Um, well, let’s just go meet Marion Harding over at that Vineyard he found yesterday.”
“Vineyard *cafe*,” Billy Jean Kidd corrected, still in a steam. “I could use some coffee. This heroin is beginning to wear off.”
“Well, we had to give you *something* for the trip. And to prepare you for, well, *this*.” He indicates toward the cottage he’d rented just several days back. Their new home: he and the Kidd and Marion. The kid who wasn’t really a kid atall. So the drug part is totally legit, at least in Caledonia. I’ll have to check the local laws on drug use before the 3 settle in. All heavy imbibers they are, Marion with his pot, Philip his pills, and Billy Jean, well, she’s the worst of the 3 now. Old souls can falter in that manner.
“Coffee!” The Kidd begins to stomp in place on the melting snow. “Coffee, coffee, coffee!” She was having a caffeine conniption.
“It’s so laggy here, Philip, Kidd.”
“It’s the beginning of the end,” states Billy Jean plainly. “And where’s my *coffee*?”
“In a minute, babe,” spoke Marion, smooth and gangsterly as always. “Just gotta knock the edge off this pot with some wine. Then we’ll shift — over.”
“Wine, beer, booze, drugs, cigarettes.” It’s all we do any more. It’s like we don’t *exist*.”
Philip and Marion try to absorb the impact of this statement. “*Clyde*” Billy Jean harshly interrupted their ruminations. “The *reason* for the *being*.”
Marion finally thought to take another sip of wine. Buzz was strong this afternoon. Blur the higher regions a bit, the parts he’s not suppose to know yet. The blue above the red. Red wine, blue pot, hmmm. He drinks deeper. Must return to red.
“Well I for one am going to get some sugar… donuts hopefully. Take the bite out of these barbiturates I’m on currently.” Philip scoots his chair back and gets up to go to the other side, across the wooden swing bridge. The side of the cafe that has the coffee. And the pastries.
Marion then stares at The Kidd, who stares back. “You don’t… really like me do you,” Marion states, seeing the hatred in her eyes.
“No, I don’t really like you Marion Star Harding. Not at the moment, anyway.” But Marion thought it went on longer than that. Through eternity, maybe, but that was the blue beyond the red again. ‘Nother sip of wine. Oh… he realized, she just wants some coffee. And I’m here, taking my time, drinking my wine. Slooowly.
“Oh… I see,” he spoke aloud. “You want…”
“Duh,” she interrupted. “Are you through with the wine?” She pauses a beat. “How about now?”
“Listen, doll… kid. We’re here to show you something, Philip and me. There’s something special about this place. It’s not… just about getting away from Caledonia. It’s *fate*.” Marion ends here.
“It’s fate *what*?”
“The, er, Oracle.” He decided just to blurt it out. “It’s in the other side. The pastry part.”
“Well,” states Billy Jean Kidd, unimpressed. “Down the rest of that precious wine and we’ll head over there. Join Philip in his sugar binging. It will probably be cocaine after that. Usually is after sweets. We may have a clear spot between…” — she checks her watch which she actually isn’t wearing — “… between 5:30 and 5:45. That gives us 15 minutes to make some actual sense to each other. Not red… blue… black… yellow. I need some coffee, I need some drugs. We’ll actually *talk* to each other. Like a regular family.” Billy Jean Kidd thinks again how she desires a normal family, not necesarrily a father and a mother instead of 2 fathers — pseudo-fathers. Just… normal. White picket fences, red apple pies, blue skies, green trees, yellow dress — well, she has that… but the rest. She so wants it. And she thought this mythical Clyde might supply it.
Marion finally remembers to drink the wine again. And that they need to get to the other side. He stands up, a little wobbly but then steady (as she goes).