My Kind of Perfect

14th ツ

14th ツ

“What happened to the two of you?” exclaimed Dorothy as soon as we came in sight, ditching the book that she was reading.

Worry was evident in her eyes, as well as some kind of pity for our destitute state. But I wasn't sure about all that, knowing how good an actress she was. However, she certainly appeared to be more surprised than what I had imagined. For a moment, as we were desperately trying to find our way up here, I also thought that she would more pleased than surprised. Well, she should blame it on the fact that seeing me in any form of helpless state amused her.

“Hi, Grandma,” muttered John half-heartedly.

“Why are you covered in mud? And what's with the torn clothes?” she disbelievingly asked, her eyes went from him to me.

“Hi, Dorothy,” I exhaled. Couldn't she just let it go and act as if she saw us with fine clothes and decent appearance? I wasn't fond of elaborating the exhausting events that had happened to our supposed to be honeymoon.

“What happened? And where's the car?” she uttered, cutting in between us and tried finding the missing car. If she would go all the way down the mountain and across those deadly trees and pass that mountain boar, she would find that missing car.

I let out a long sigh, which in turn resounded by the worn-out man beside me. We walked away, leaving the confused Dorothy behind. I bet she was still trying to figure out what had happened.

Pleasant good mornings were echoed from the staff of the hotel as John and I trod our way in. I found it mirthful that even though I was certain that John was also as dead-tired as I was, he still greeted them back. If he was running for office, that would explain it. But since he wasn't, was that for some kind of good deed that he used to do from way back then? He owned the place, so he didn't need to act all that polite and courteous. He was paying everyone, and that alone should be enough.

“Good morning. You're doing a great job,” I echoed what he was saying to each of the workers.

I looked around, seeing that I’d been given disapproving looks by everyone. It seemed like they have heard my supposed to be soundless mumbles.

I shrugged. “I was just trying to be funny.”

Then I saw one bratty girl rolled her eyes. And the others, well, they just kind of shook their heads in disagreement. And trying to make the funny situation worse was John who reproached what I did, whispering to me, “I can still hear you from this distance. Can't you try to act a little nicer to everyone?”

“I was just trying—” I said, but he held me by the mouth and dragged me along.

“My wife is just having a bad day, as you can all see. Tired and exhausted from all the...” he paused, giving it a thought, “...walking with mud all over.”

I tried defending myself, but John’s hold was firm and unmovable. I struggled, but he didn’t give me a chance to say or do anything. He flinched with my acts, but nonetheless continued his act of goodwill to all. Hastening his footsteps and dragging me along in a pace, we arrived in our room faster than intended. That was an exaggeration, but we did arrive fast. And as soon as we were inside the room, he let go of me.

“What do you suppose you're doing?” he demanded.

“Why do you have to drag me that way? I have a set of feet of my own. I can walk. And you don't have the right to hinder what I will do or what I will say,” I stated, placing my hands on my hips.