The waterfall was relaxing. That’s why I decided to choose this cabin over the others, including the one where I could chop wood. Oil heated but that’s okay — I could use (cleaner) kerosene. Jem should be home soon. Out pretending she lives in the big treehouse I suppose; answering old phones, playing with someone else’s computer, overlapping screens on top of theirs. It’s all good fun, though. There’s no no trespassing signs around here. Eveything is open, all the way from Towerboro to these neighboring woods. And no dummies to worry about either here — that’s a big advantage over town. I can focus on Jem and Jem alone. Especially after Tessie (our Tessa) left for the castle to find that book. I wish her luck!
Water sounds; I can get sleep for a change.
—–
“Minus 125,” he cussed mildly downstairs after a nap. “Out of ice cream.” Oh well, he thinks. I can make some later out back with the cream and the strawberries here. Prefer chocolate, though, or vanilla at the least. Maybe run into town and get some. But the dummies…
—–
“Tired of your book?”
“No. It’s just I’m a little depressed.”
“Depressed? Why?”
“Because… didn’t you wonder where I was today?”
“I figured you were at the treehouse. Pretending we’re better off than we are.”
“I was in *town*.” How blind could this bastard boy be? she thought.
“Town, eh? Oh yeah. I think you mentioned that.”
“I *did* mention that. Do you remember where I was?”
“You said ‘town’.”
“No. Where I *was* in town.”
“No I don’t think you did. *Oh*”, he realized. “The *hair*.”
“Yes, Bob cut a lot of it off.” Finally! she thought. “Wellll?”
He wanted to go into town to get some proper ice cream and Jem came back with a doo that looked like a big scoop of vanilla was dropped on her head. What could he say? “The bob looks great on you, honey.” He tried to reach over and stroke it for reinforcement but Jem knocked his hand away.
—–
Later we find him chopping wood at that nearby cabin. At least he has himself tonight. How was I to know that Bob was the hairdresser instead of the style, he thinks. I need to pay attention better.
—–
The next night he tried to make up but she wouldn’t have any of it. “I’m going to go see John tomorrow,” she said, her mind set. She needed to find out about that duck. Finally!
At least I can move back into this cabin and listen to the waterfall and stop chopping wood, he thinks. Wait… *whaat*? “John??” he parroted. But maybe it was another hairstylist or a hairstyle at the least.
No. It was John.
Sunklands 