The Devil on Kazoo

6: Sunday Afternoons

"Though you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun
It's not aimed at anyone
It's just escaping on the run"

"Mr. Tambourine Man" by Bob Dylan

Syl sat at the breakfast table with Kathy as general Crumb chaos ensued all around, but her thoughts were far from their conversation.

She watched Bash absently as he and Smiley ribbed each other and laughed in the kitchen.

His joy was usually contagious, but today Syl had too much on her mind to participate in the merriment, even though there was an ongoing bet she was hoping to win that morning.

As a rule, Syl Krista did not respect many people because very few people deserved her respect.

Bash was not one of those people.

If it weren't for him, Syl would either still be scrounging for food on the streets of the East End or, more likely, have joined the Russian mob outside of London.

Bash was a person who didn't need to be thanked. Who did things not only because they were right, but because he had a genuine care for human beings that perplexed and awed Syl.

It wasn't that she was the opposite of this, she was simply unused to kindness. It had never been shown to her until she met Bash.

In Russia, even though she knew her family loved her, they were a cold, unfeeling people. Syl was raised to look out for herself and spit in the eye of anyone who tried to rob her of her pride.

She saw now how sad it was to live in a world all alone and she had Bash to thank for showing her otherwise.

All of this only added to her guilt. She'd secretly been entertaining thoughts of spying on the Mad Teddy's ever since Bash had mentioned their new competition.

Try as she might to change his mind, Bash was firmly set on not causing any unnecessary confrontation.

But it wasn't a confrontation that Syl wanted. It was an advantage on the enemy.

What was wrong with seeing what they were up against? Syl saw opportunity where Bash saw danger, so she told herself that she would wait.

She'd thought about involving Smiley in her scheme, but the last thing she wanted to do was pit the two brothers against each other.

That only left Kathy...

Patience, Syl told herself. For now, she'd have to wait and see how the coming days unfolded. Perhaps Bash would end up being right and the Teddy's weren't as big of a threat as they'd assumed.

Though Syl was hardly convinced of that.

For now, however, she had a bet to win.

Sundays aboard Wolgemoth and Sons were the only days when the radio took a break, which meant The Crumbs did as well.

Bash and Smiley worked on a breakfast of beans and ham, Kathy and Syl talked at the breakfast table, and a new record Bash had bought spun on the player.

"All I'm saying," Kathy argued, "is that his voice just isn't good."

"It isn't about his voice." Syl shrugged. "Bob Dylan is a lyrical and musical genius, even for an American. Just listen."

Everyone fell silent, listening to the record.

They were quiet like this for a long time as "Mr. Tambourine Man" played. Some were dissecting the pentameter, some were following the guitar, some were simply being still in the moment of the lyrics.