“See? He likes you. He’s staring at you instead of me.”
“And…” said Lucas to the left of us, the reader or readers, “… you are?” He had to ask. The other seemed oblivious to the transformation that happened while they walked up the hill to here, not really a chance meeting since the town wasn’t that big.
“Baker. Baker Bloch. We just looked at the Falls Shack together the other day. You pay me rent. 15 bucks a month.”
“You are not Baker,” spoke Lucas. “Or at least the Baker I know.”
“Well of course–” Baker Bloch looked down at his non-gloved hands, his olive drab shirt, his black-gray shoes and pants. He was not the Baker he knew.
“Explain,” said Lucas. “Explain everything. Start with Carrcassonnee. How did you come up with such a krazy kooky name?”
I sat today with blog owner and blog stranger or newcomber. They asked me questions about my source. I, Carr, came up with something. Rrrrr. RRRRrrrrr. Rrr Rrr RRRRrrrrrrr. I start (continual raspberry noise).
Tvin Tovn, neither here nor there.
Tvin Town at best.
“So tell me about this Church of the Ood. Been a while, you know.”
“Oh things have changed. No more clown sacrifices for these good folk up here. That’s all done and in the past.”
“Explain.” He looks at the pictures up front again, merged at the frames — black and white, yin and yang, he perceives. He’s explaining the situation to himself. “One beneath it all?” he guesses.
“Yes.” Guy sure is psychic, thinks Baker Bloch again, still hanging around Gold since his wife has been delayed. Suspicious but of course he doesn’t delve deeper into a reason. The Golds always seem to sort it out despite the many issues involved now, he thinks, infidelity to name a big one on both their parts. High Infidelity, then.
“I was also thinking,” Gold theorized further, “that the clowns have been exterminated through repeated sacrifices and there’s no more reason to hate them. Because none exist.”
“Yeah, that too I suppose. 1/2 and 1/2.” Gold glared over. We weren’t suppose to use that expression past novel 25, the one that changed everything. Baker apologizes, but he only 1/2 meant it. He of course kept that fact to himself. Because — it was a little thing but such things add up to make big things — he wanted to make it okay to say that again. He wanted to honor 12 Oz Mouse expressions above all else. Now that Spider has been found inside collages again. Spider equals Skillet, he knows through Missouri. Polk County, Missouri, to be specific. Home of Uncle Joe and Aunt Zoe, humanvillians both. He didn’t return the glare but he looked over all the same. Gold — could turn into platinum at any specific turn of events. Reaction. Visit from grand-niece and now grown-up Tessa could trigger it. Because she thought him dead anyway; surprised he was still a part of the Land of the Living after Baker phoned her up on a whim. He’s curious to see what happens when they meet.
And where is Preacher Zoidboro? he thinks. 7:05 now. Everyone is here that’s here so far, everyone is anticipating results from this lone religion of town now that the clowns are gone. They have to find or at least pretend to find some sort of God or else all is still doomed.
(to be continued)
“Yes this will do just fine,” Lucas spoke, looking down on the body floating in the pool beyond the top of the waterfall. “Nice view,” he added.
“We’ll have to charge you the same price as the Julia House. I’m not sure we can rent both at the same time. Conjoined, you see.”
“Twins, yeah,” said Lucas to this, still a stranger in town but hoping at least to get to know one specific resident quite a bit better in the coming weeks and months. Baker Bloch. Who’s showing him this Falls Shack, he called it, a quite leany affair but better suited to his needs. He knows he’ll be able to talk Baker down in price. After all, this was absolutely the most poorly built structure in Somoco. “10 lindens a month,” he said, turning around and staring at those oh so dead eyes directly. He didn’t tack on “take it or leave it” because he intended to go up — exactly 5 lindens.
“Make it 15,” Baker Bloch relented, and to that Lucas nodded. We have our first “permanent” resident, a mysterious one. This young man — boy really — was not what he seemed.
Philip Strevor wasn’t available, so Mr. Matrix took his spot at the Watching Booth. He was staking out the place of a guy known as The Rabbit, but The Boss correctly assumed he was just a rat in disguise. Now to dangle the carrot, er, cheese.
Whenever she’s fit and ready.
Sure the giant carrot was pointed directly at his hideout, but The Rabbit was no longer there. Or had he not moved in yet?
Directly behind his past/future hideout lived Lucas Smart, hatch open to his own home. He’d hoped someone would find him down there all sideways before now. Vertical and horizontal had become all smushed up. And the water could be rising once more!
Lemmings existed in the area. Here’s one sunbathing at Bowers Beach.
And here’s another at the same beach raiding a treasure chest of gold bricks and coins. Could this be why The Rabbit is in the area? Treasure, buried or exposed?
There use to be a village of tiny gummy people across the lake from the beach, but they seemed to have moved away in the last 5 years or so, probably because of the variant water levels. Their main street was aligned with the Rodentia Underground entrance seen in the distance here.
But it was not just a town (New Gummton). There was a tiny forest beside a tiny lake with a tiny pier. A whole microcosm for the miniature inhabitants to exist within. They needed no “outside”. I wonder what happened to them?
Back in Rodentia proper, the bait had been set. “Sure hope this work,” Mr. Matrix thinks, checking his daily sports scores.
Axis found a black and white girl slumped against a Rodentia dumpster but did not know who she was. She didn’t open her eyes.
Tealie woke Jiff up in a bad mood, who did not wish to play right this minute.
So she instead goes to visit the grave of her old friend Matthew Lodenwald. What a blow to the community when he died!
Bob Richards continues to reads scrapbooks of the war and laments how he will never see his beloved Alpha again. Oh dear, looks like Li’l Bob’s jumped out of his crib.
Uncle Doomed drinks Jack Daniels in front of the neighbor’s Blob until passing out.
Lucas Smart tries to figure out how his life went so wrong.
Chris Caveman lumbers out of the Rodentia Underground, worse off from the experience.
In the local arcade, punk band Story Room prepares to play Cruise Control with newbie Grassy Noll, snickering about whether he’ll even make it out of the first turn.
Also in the arcade, Bill (Wheeler) confers with Rocky Racco about her most recent name change and move to Iris. “Heterocera is still at the fore of my research,” she reassures the learned writer. “I haven’t forgotten about Olde Lapara Towne, Collagesity, VHC City, or any of the rest.”
“Good, Wheeler.” He scratches his nose with his free paw. “Did you know that my cousin Tealie now lives in this area?”