“Could it be… could that horse be eating — sniffing…
… blue roses? Yesss!”
“I’m so close.”
But Casey One Hole quickly learned he was banned from the 4096 square meter property dominated by the giant tree and its topping house, speculating that someone else higher up was reading the Baker B. blog as well. He couldn’t get beyond the blue roses. For reasons yet to be understood, he would not suffer the same horrible fate as Dixon One preceding him.
“Alright, Brevin. Show me where the treasure is.”
END OF “COLLAGESITY 2018 EVEN LATER”!
It seemed like the only form left for her. Back to the drawing board after this. She rehearsed the ending wedding in her head. Takes place on this very spot.
“Do you take Dixon for your newly minted husband, to honor and obey until derezzing do you part?”
“I now pronounce you cousin, er, *husband* and wife.” She pictures the crowd laughing with this little “mistake”, purposely inserted into the vows by Reverend Jimmy Buffee, a long time Snowwhite admirer and a bit jealous of the proceedings. Both Dixons were her cousins, true, but soon one would be more. And Aunt Emerald soon to be the mother-in-law, whichever. Maw.
“You may kiss the dazzling bride.”
Snowwhite kisses the air in front of her. Several fluttering birds, some yellow, some more mutely colored, look on. She imagines them, as a group, holding up the wedding dress train behind her as she walks north through the green meadow to these two central trees and her husband-to-be, with the even more central sakura weeping cherry just behind, almost as brilliant white as herself and about as tall.
Life is good in the centre of it all.
Klancaster. Whence he came from. The dirt, the grime. He must cleanse himself in this mountain environment. Forget about Snowwhite Well. Forget about Dixon Too, Maw, Cousin Odie, the rest.
No, this was not the snow peaked mountain of treasure lore he’s on. (Dixon walks across the stone patio.) But he’s *close*. He can feel it. Maybe even that far summit over there hidden behind the tall pines?
Hold on. What’s that?
*Linden* trees. And in such profusion. He’s never seen so many in one place. He must go check it out!
So thick you can’t see what’s inside. And the property’s banned.
Oh well, Dixon thinks. Moving on.
“One down, one to go, Young Duncan. Hold on.”
“It’s not that one, Dixon Too. Too low, you see. No snowy peak.”
“Stop calling me ‘Too.’ *You’re* the ‘Too'”
“How about just Dixon again,” he compromised. “We call each other Dixon from now on. We’ll deal with the One and Too when other people are around.”
“Agreed, er, Dixon. But… we’ve already done this. Our entire lives.”
“Agreed,” the other repeats.
“She says she’ll sleep with you. You have that to look forward to.”
“Maybe I don’t want to sleep with her,” the other countered, making his doppleganger laugh. The other then laughed with him.
“Good one, *’Too’*.”
Alone again, he surveys the world he comes from.
“What a load of crap.”
“I’m it, Dixon,” she pleads. “I’m the treasure.”
“Cut the crap, Snowwhite. I know the treasure is in the mountains. It says it right here on this map.” He pushes the map more across the table toward her. “Snowy peak and all. You *know*.”
“I don’t know, Dixon.” Tears begin to form in her eyes again.
“I’m leaving town. I’m going to find it.”
Dramatic pause. Tears are running down her cheeks now. “I’ll… I’ll sleep with the other Dixon who remains. You know I will.”
Dixon huffs. “My no good doppleganger, pheh.”
“The one who tracked down and captured Duncan Avocado…”
“I *know* what he did, Ms. Well.”
She sniffs, dries her eyes with the back of her hand. “He did a good thing.”
Dixon didn’t reply, looked out the window at the bright aspen leaves. Snowy peak. She *knows* goll darnit.
“So will you tell me where the mountain treasure is *now*?”
“Well… it’s not here, that’s for sure. Central forest — in that central park — may seem pretty from a small distance, but up close: no maintenance plan. Terrain doesn’t meet the roots. It won’t live.”
Axis was becoming impatient again. “Then *where*?” He quickly backtracked his emotional outburst. “Please. I-I’ve been waiting so long now.”
Absinthe Fairy finished up Sibelius’ “5 Pieces for Piano” with a flourish. She lifted her hands from the keyboard, caught her breath a bit. “Okay, *now* I can concentrate.” She paused thoughtfully. “What were we talking about, then?”
Later, at 128/128 in the small wood:
“He fell for it, Dixon.”