Nothing But Bones

36: Strawberry Jam Gashes

Because it seems like a fantastic idea, Tiff waits until Elton and Dingus are gone and decides to sit in the bathtub with her legs over the side. This way, she won't get blood everywhere. She navigates her near-dead phone to the contact of one Melvin J. Berrycloth, wishing she had a longer charging cable.

She left a store-bought key lime pie on his doorstep once, as an apology for the way she acted when he and his husband saved her from being consumed in the space between dimensions. Aside from the occasional passing piece of conversation in communal spaces like the Book Nook, the gas station, and the sidewalk outside his house, she has barely spoken to him since.

She doesn't really have a choice, does she? She isn't going to die, but she is going to steadily lose her mind as she loses blood. It's going to get worse and worse, until she's a giddy mess of nothing and her heart stops beating. And then what?

She makes the call.

Groggy and still very British, Melvin J. Berrycloth answers. Hello?"

"Hi, Mr. Berrycloth!" She draws out her greeting more than she means to. "Can you read Elvish and-or is Ellis there?"

Melvin laughs. "Oh, Tiffany May! It's lovely to hear from you."

"Can you—" She repeats, "Can you read Elvish? I know you were there for like six years, but— Or is Ellis around?"

"Oh, Tiff, of course I can read Elvish. I can write in Elvish, if you need to know that. And yes, Ellis is here with me. We're in bed."

"Ew. Gross."

"Not in that way, silly girl. Well, not yet anyway."

She repeats it.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yeah, uh—" She can't stop laughing under her breath. "So— I have this book and I can't read it right now. Could you help?"

He makes a loud humming noise before deciding, "I could, yes. Absolutely. I'm quite capable of helping."

"Thank god—"

"However, it is getting quite on in the evening, my dear. Could this not wait until tomorrow?"

"I mean, I— I guess?"

Kepler smacks her. It isn't gentle.

She blurts, "I'm bleeding out in a bathtub. I won't die but it feels weird so no, probably not."

Tiff hears a slight rustling. "You're what? My dear, what have you gotten up to?"

"I went to Canada."

"I've been to Canada. I went to Vancouver last month! I had an absolutely lovely time and I never bled out in a bathtub."

She giggles. "You're such a special boy."

"My point is, Tiff, is that you're being terribly vague and I hate it. You want my help, then tell me where you are and I'll come to you."

"I got stabbed and I can see my heart. And I have a book. I'm in..." She takes a long second to think about it. "Beaverdell? I'm in Beaverdell. It's in British Columbia. I'm not sure what that means."

"British Columbia is a province, dear. Beaverdell. Beaverdell..."

"It's in Canada."

"Yes, I could put that together."

"Just— give me a second. It's been like two hours since I got this wound, but I've been steadily losing blood for hours, and I got maced earlier, so it's just kind of abysmal here, and this bathtub is not a great place to be—"