Chapter Three

“And then I says to that mean old hag, ‘No, you listen! I refuse to work for this much money under these conditions! Hire someone else to be your fuckboy.’ That seems to be the long and short of it, I do believe.”

I was wiping the tears from my eyes, I was laughing so hard. “Oh, Clovis! That’s why you got the boot at the Botanical Gardens?! You didn’t really say all of that, did you?”

“You callin me a liar? Have I ever told you a single lie? A single mistruth?”

“Well, I ain’t callin you a truther.” I pulled the reference from one of the many shows and movies we had watched together. I didn’t remember where I learned that one from, but Clovis sure did.

“You still remember that movie? When we saw that one you were real itty-bitty, didn’t even know what the big people on the screen were saying!”

“No, I don’t,” I admitted shamefully. “But, I recall that little bit.”

“It’s funny, the little bits we all recall. It seems that there’s no rhyme or reason to ‘em. Just when we think a moment, place, or person is lost to us forever, it comes back when you least expect it.”

This is why most of the people who really knew Clovis thought him to be one of the smartest people on the Emerald Isle- sure, he may not be able to do Calculus or Astro-Physics, he could figure out what really mattered.

I thought on his words and committed them to memory. If there was one thing that Clovis was, it was a wise old man that had enough thoughts in his head for the rest of the rest of us Mortals, and then some. “Clovis, what would I do without you?” I asked quietly.

“Well, you’d probably be a hell of a lot smarter from the absence of John Wayne in your life,” he retorted humorously. (We had watched all of the movies together.) “By the way, where’s Bard?”

“No clue. He’ll come back, though- he always does.”

He scoffed. “I’m sure that’s what many a married woman has said about a man and then poof! He’s gone like the all of the family money he withdrew from the shared bank account.”

“We’re not married,” I retorted.

“No, but I reckon Bard’s smart enough to take half.”

I laughed. “Oh, and I wonder where he got that from. I’m not the only one who had a part in raising Bard if you’ll remember correctly.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t take half.”

“Really?” I quipped.

“Really, Miss Stella. No, I’d take as much as I earned. If it’s more or less than half, then so be it.” Bard interrupted our friendly banter by landing on Clovis’s shoulder. “See!” Cried Clovis. “He knew to interrupt our meaningful conversation that could lead to an expose of his reckless ways and the ways that he plans to steal all of your life savings!”

I shook my head. “He loves me!”

“He loves your food,” said Clovis as Bard hopped on his shoulder excitedly. “See?” He asked again, gesturing towards the over-excited bird.

I shushed Clovis. “Clovis, I think there’s something wrong. C’mere, Bard.” I held out my finger. Attached to Bard’s twiggy leg was a rolled slip of paper, wrapped with a small slip of string. Bard hopped onto my finger, still chirping urgently. “Hey, Clovis, can I have a sec alone with Bard? Your trainees are probably wondering about you anyways,” I muttered distractedly.

“Are you sure? If something is wrong-”

I cut him off. “Clovis.”

He nodded. “Right-O, Miss Stella. Have yourself a nice day. You know where to find me if you get to be needing my assistance.” He hustled off. Anyone who knew me well enough knew better than to bother me when I became fixated on something.

“What is it?” I muttered soothingly to the distressed, not excited, bird. I unwrapped the tiny piece of paper, which was about four centimeters by ten centimeters long. India Flower, blue leaves. -Adda. My heart seized. I pulled out a pen and wrote something along the lines of I’ll be there soon, don’t do anything until I get there, and reattached the paper to Bard’s leg. “Back from whence, you came,” I commanded. Bard took off, cutting through the air like a hot knife through butter.

I took off at a sprint, towards the shed, where I grabbed Blue and rode to the main building. “Oi! No ridin’ that bike! This a memorial!” I heard behind me. “Her name’s Blue, a*s-hat!”I shouted back; I didn’t have the time to properly address the gardener. Sure, Clovis would be mad, but I couldn’t care less at that moment in time. Something big was happening, and I wasn’t about to miss it.

Author's Note

Hello again! Thanks for reading on, and hopefully forming some opinions on what I've put on your literary plate. (You could share these with me OR your friends, possibly both if you so chose. If you don't have an account, that's cool too, but I highly suggest making one. Then you can write too!)

Happy reading, and your's truly,
Firabelle

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Very nice discussion in the chapter. I like the honest tone and the questions asked. I like the new characters. The story is getting better and interesting. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote