Not here, eh? thinks visiting Wheeler from over at NWES City. He said he’s *always* here, spinning around the place on that oh-so-handy skateboard of his. And I so wanted to thank him for the other day. Oh well… just have to tell the others here that I came by; leave it at that. Maybe next time. I’ll try to message the little fellow.
Tag Archives: TIGERS
“It’s over, Sandy,” Baker Bloch said from the bench in front of the canvas. The search for All Orange: done.”
“I know,” he speaks over from the game he and Wendy and perhaps several others are playing. Not Carcassonnee, but close, because tiles are involved, jigsaw shaped ones in this case, which they are sitting on as well as playing with. They are playing with themselves.
“Whose move, Wendy?” he asks.
“Yours.” They switch jigsaw pieces with each other while Baker continues to stare.
For instance, maybe this moss covered rock is suppose to be next to the blue-yellow-green-*orange* Mmmmmm’s and also next to the church. The monkeys (Ding and Dong) know. One perches on top of the rock, the other on the roof of the chapel. The Veer is the same in each, although the new Herman Park location for the model rr track contains 11 pieces instead of Chesterton’s 12. This is The River of the game Carcassonne that all is built around. The Earth is built around The River, usually identified as The Amazon because of its size but, really, any large world river would do. Mississippi is also commonly used because of its inherent mightiness.
But we must get back to characters and away from just dry, didactic text. Nice to know that Hucka Doobie and Baker Bloch are getting along better now. Orange helps. The search is over.
“It really was quite simple, Hucka Doobie. I inserted the 5th piece — orange — connecting red and yellow together, The Cones were revealed again beyond the Victory Restaurant, Lu Ellen Hutchinson or Hutchison’s red cap disappeared behind it (another red to orange switch), and much more is at stake (!).”
“Much more ahead, yeah.” Hucka Doobie had to admit to herself that she was pretty proud of Baker boy here. Now he just had to figure out where the real Bigfoot was. Was it in Herman Park in that new, top secret spot Carrcassonnee recently dreamed about? Or is it still next to the Blue Mtn. Urban Landscape in the “old” Bigfoot, or more specifically the Bigfoot section called Chesterton.
Tigers are a link. She smiles with this. Baker boy is good. Good boy.
Baker Bloch and Hucka Doobie had finished their trip through West Virginia. “We better close up the portal before we leave.”
“I’ll do it,” volunteered Hucka Doobie, getting out of the car. “You stay here and make sure no one goes through.” She pats the top of the door twice for emphasis.
“10-4.” Hucka Doobie glares at him before leaving, daring him to add “Eleanor.” She wasn’t Eleanor. Not any longer.
She pauses before entering the code that will shut it all down. “Blue rose,” she ponders, looking at the 2701 Bland Rd. yard sign. “Gordon Cole would be so proud.”
Barry DeBoy stares at the blank canvas he knows he must fill in soon. CITY, a concept that must be born if the city itself is to be saved. Almost a 90 percent chance of it now. He’ll take the odds.
He pinches himself to make sure he’s awake (he is). Wearing the red tie has made him nervous about that down through the months — before, he was always dreaming when he had it on. No more. Something happened: a reversal, a change of heart even, he senses. Miss Graham has given it back. But why?
“It was me,” Hucka Doobie spoke at a nearby table. Come on into the picture. PICT ON PICT. Come on,” she urged.
“What’s he doing?”
“She. But that’s what we have to find out. Temple.”
“Wheeler. Of course.”
“Tiger eyes, moved from the front of the head to the back to meet in the middle again, just like (with) Aunt Fannie. Black Diamond is revealed. It is time to tell the truth.”
“Partial truth,” I respond.
“Black Ice is not Black Ice,” I spoke to the city or town council, as yet undecided. *Maybe* tonight (!).
“Well??” Head councilman and well respected resident Walter “Homer” Westinghouse was waiting for an answer.
“It’s Black Diamond.” Gasps from the members at the meeting. They hadn’t heard that name in a looong time.
“Bu-bu-but *Diamond*fyre* is the only Diamond named sim.”
“No,” I corrected Homer. “The actual name of Diamondfyre is *Ice*fyre. Sometime in the past, with a bunch of hoodoos like you lot, it was changed. “The decision –,” I measured out, “was – made,” I paused again, “to change. Switch. One replaces another, like if you had a set of eyes you weren’t pleased with and you switched them out with someone else’s.” I let that sink in. No one responded for what I considered an appropriate amount of time to absorb so I added, “and Ice is the same as Diamond — almost — because you can have the glass version of the former while Diamond always remain pure. Always — remain — pure,” I metered out again.
“What about the *belt*?” Murmurs from the members, agreeing with Walter “Homer” Westinghouse. They must talk about the Great Belt of Black Diamond next. How did it get imported into Marwood? And what did *Icefyre* have to do with all this?
(to be continued)