Elise Runs and Dorothy Falls

Chapter 37

Dorothy took an impulsive swing at the man's face. Fortunately for him, the fist failed to connect when he withdrew. She came tumbling into the open air, to finish what she started.

"Hold on, tiger!" The man skipped backwards to evade a tandem of kicks. "—but say, you're pretty good."

He jumped back at her, throwing two jabs. She knocked them away and tried to get in close again. Smartly he retreated. However, when she tried a low kick, he only scooted his rear back, and then with an easy counter swept low and upended her.

Or so he thought. Although she completely left the earth, Dorothy rebalanced herself with a strong off- leg landing, and, as he started to stand up straight again, pivoted almost three-sixty degrees toward him again.

"Holy—!"

WHAM. She threw a punch into his stomach. The man crumpled to the ground.

Taking no time to gloat, Dorothy ran for it through the hedges. Although she maintained a clipping sprint, the garden sprawled much further than she initially thought.

Ahead, she saw a little green waterfall spurting from a wall in the corner of the garden. There were fewer lights and plenty of trees in this area, too, and if she could climb it, it was her friend. In stride she scrambled up one of the furry, mossy trees.

When she reached a good branch, good enough for sitting upon and good enough for cover, she paused to breathe deeply. She was about midway up the tree in total darkness, and, although she could see lights on the ground and in windows, there were none so close to cause her worry. She could wait it out. Straddling the branch, she leaned back.

"Boo."

Zapping upright, Dorothy pushed her hands against the branch like a balance beam and spun around. There, quite nonchalant against the tree trunk, sat the man, only now with a lit cigarette.

"Swiped a new one on my way up," he explained, as if telling his chums which store he dropped by to get the beer.

"How the fuck did you get up here?"

"Don't take it too hard, squirt. I've been doing this a long time before you were born. Speaking of your birth, who taught you that naughty word at such a tender age?"

She started to reply.

"Do you smoke, kid?" Held out his pack of cigarettes. "Do any powders? I've got six dice of pure white thrill up in my room."

Frowning, but less now, Dorothy took a cigarette. She hadn't a nice fag in ages. He lit her up.

"So, what brings a sweet lil' cherub like yourself out to the Ombaba?" he asked.

The girl took a moment to enjoy the tangy uptake. "Me and me friends came in onna zeppelin and were taken prisoner," she said, "—put to work. The boss spirit, some bloody wolf man, said that humans don't come around here..."

"He's right, nine cards out of ten. 'Course there's me, and there's you."

"I didn't think you was a spirit. What are you doing here?"

Relaxing against the trunk he replied, "Enjoying the refreshments, no different than anybody else. Had the coins to spare, thought to make a date of it. Emptied the piggy bank."

"Yeah, and apparently lost it. What game was it?"

"Poker."

"Your lady friend didn't seem real pleased."

"No reason to be, in her place. Missing me, though, that's missing a helluva night."

Having grown up on the street, where talk and swagger went a lot further than most people realized, Dorothy had to be impressed with the way he jived. She wanted to write down everything he said, and the way he said it, so she could use it later.