On Life and cat

Ch 5. Question Game

The last Smiths pub

Brrrrrring!

The doorbell chimed dimly. I didn't notice it. I was lost in thought, staring out the window with a warm cloth to a candle. Ambrose' conversation was hovering in my head. I cracked off melted wax. The breeze in my neck told me the door was still open.

"A slice of your apple pie please, and some custard if you would."

I kept my head down, looking at the candlewax in my cloth.

"Apple pies are on Tuesdays and custard we're all out of, sorry. Please close the door if you will."

"Still haven't figured it out, have you?"

Slowly, my head shifted up.
Underneath the bell stood a timid, yet familiar figure. By the sight of him, my eyes jointed. "You!"

In my hands, the candle wax was crushed to bits. "Why have you come here?" I asked harshly, putting emotions before thought, yet again. It was the Hendricks boy from before. Death. "I'm a customer," he said, showing off deep dimples in his cheeks. "I've come for your soup."

"No, you're not," I corrected. "I know the trait of a customer. You, boy, do not resemble one. Are you even old enough to be in here?"

But SimpleCheeks just smiled dumb back at me, without a concern in the world for my apparent distaste in his presence.

A harsh voice came from the storage room behind me. "Ann! How can you be so rude to a paying guest? See to that he gets what he wants- immediately!" It was the owner.

I rolled my eyes. Our guest seemed perfectly happy with this and rubbed his hands together. "It appears I'm staying" he chirped on. "What's today's special?"

I gave him a grim look, deciding whether or not to throw him out anyway. After yesterdays funny encounter I didn't like his face much. Weighing on this possibility my hands lingered. Then I flung the cloth down and grabbed a chalkboard from over the counter. "There's only one course today- like it or leave it!" I grabbed the menu from the bar and dropped it on the table in front of him.

"Broccoli...interesting. I've never tasted broccoli soup before. I'll go with that then. Did you make it yourself?"

"We have a cook" I lied. We didn't really. It was the old wife that made every meal served here, a ragged old lady with ten ears and three mouths, but she was as good a cook as any as far as I'm concerned. She would boil the water hot, drifting out into the guest rooms until all the windows had been dimmed out, throw it around in different pans until the dogs outside started barking by the noise and finally pour a big lump of it into a plate and give it to her husband for breakfast. The rest were kept in a massive saucepan throughout the day. Sometimes I would sneak in fish from Kerrigan just to pimp the taste. From bland to bland with fish! The house slogan.

When I came back from the kitchen he pushed out a chair from under the table. "Please" he gestured, "take a seat. We have much to talk about."

I tossed a look over my shoulder and eyed the owner still staring suspiciously at me. Then he disappeared into the storage room again. "Fine. But first, you tell me who you are."

"I'd rather not." our guest replied.

"-and why is that?" I said.

"I would lie"

I felt my inner lion jump forward and take control of the ship. Perfect. A lunatic. I could almost hear Sophie's voice in the back of my head going 'well, at least he's an honest one'

Honest, my ass. For two seconds, maybe.

"-and if you didn't?" I said. "Liars don't make it far in this town." I put the broccoli soup down.