Darn stove. Won’t heat up again. Oh well, they can eat at the cottage now. Hope it’s well stocked.
“Hurry up and brush your teeth, dearest.”
“Arr arr arr Arr arr arr Arr.”
“Have you taken your shower?”
“Arr arr ar — *spit*. Not yet. Arr arr arr.”
“Well hurry. Landfall should be in any (*hard clunk*) minute.”
She looks around to see if anything has fallen off the walls or appliances in the kitchen. Collision with the island obviously. They’re here, automatic pilot accomplishing its mission.
“Looks like we’re here.”
“No joke. I spit all over my jacket this time. My nice green Columbia.”
“Yeah, why are you wearing that thing indoors anyway? Must be 70 in here.”
“Thin blood obviously.”
“*Green* blood you mean,” replied Roberts to this. “Like everything else about you. Except your cash oddly,” she wondered aloud.
“Yeah, gotta draw the line somewhere. I thought I’d make it the obvious.”
“Well no one else I know has got red money.”
“Coins,” Mabel (Mabel!) replied to this. “I almost always pay in coins, gold and silver, true moolah.”
“You put you on the scale at any random moment in the day and your 25 over, ha. Just go all the way. A girl of Purest Green.”
“You know I can’t do that.” She’d finished cleaning the white off her jacket. “Time for a shower still?” she called over hopefully.
“Only if I can join you, tee hee.” F-ck the stove.
—-
20 minutes later they were staring over at their new home for a week. Martha had left a big pot of beans cooking on the beach. Good ol’ Martha.
“It’s small,” complained Mabel — we’ll still call her Mabel. For the moment.
“It’s cheap,” shot back Roberts.
“And that *thing* at the door.”
“Yeah, ha. I guess you’ve never seen one of those — don’t know what it represents.”
She took the joke in stride. “Oh I’ve dated men.”
“We started dating when we were 14. *When*?”
“Before you, sister. Jim. Yeah, that’s his name.”
“Another made up lover. A man this time. Ridiculous. You’re about as straight as the coins filling your pockets.”
“I paid *cash* for him. The straight stuff. The *green* stuff. Why do you think I’m so loathed to carry it now?”
“Jim, huh.” Roberts was starting to be convinced.
“Yeah. Right before we started dating. I ran from men to women as fast as I could after that encounter. And wasted my money as well.”
“How much?”
“Cash?”
“Yeah. I just want to know. How much would you have paid for *me*?”
“Fifty.”
“Fifty. (pause) That’s all? A male hooker in upscale Wampumtown? What, did you go all the way down to the docks –”
Mabel turned and glared at Roberts with this. Enough was enough, line drawn (again). Docks it is.
(to be continued)
Sunklands 