Outside, Twigs had grown a tad impatient with his girl. She was taking longer than any girl should ever take to be on her way. He had said they should do this every week, and she had said she was busy. So he had arranged for all of her day’s work to be stalled so that she would have the day to spare. He considered himself incredibly thoughtful for pushing her obligations back for her so that she would not have to, herself! And here she was, not being nearly as prudent or timely as he had known her to be...

He silently hopped from his carriage, stifling any noise when he landed with his soft pads, and slid along the wall of the hut. It was considerably less shabby since the last time he had laid eyes on it, though really nowhere near as good as he felt was necessary for his girl. It would never be nice enough for her, not ever. By simply being within radius of this... pit, he felt it would slowly erode his capacity for class. He hated the place. He was glad to have nothing to do with it anymore. In his head, he thanked his girl for the good service she’d done him, even if it cost him years without her. He hunkered against the wall next to the door to eavesdrop as soon as he heard Malt speak up.

“... don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be going out there today, even if there’s nothing much for you to be overseeing anymore. There’s always something else I could really use your assistance with.”

That stupid, unsophisticated hick of a cow, Twigs thought.

“Well, yeah, I know, but I should at least visit Chisel to explain what’s up. I think Mica mostly knows what types of things I need done today, and I already talked to the teams who are gonna be helping her out. That stuff can go on without me. Everything else kinda relied on Chisel coming here, so I just need you to tell everyone that’s off and we’ll be doing it tomorrow,” his girl said. She would come with him, and they would have a splendid time together, he knew it.

Twigs heard reluctant resignation in Malt and grinned. But as Malt spoke, his words grew more confident, and Twigs’s grin fell. “Listen PK, I just... I think that guy’s lying to you. I think he’s bad news, and I know you think you should deal with his crap because he gives you things, but that’s a load of bull.” A pause. “And trust me, I know bull.” Apparently this was meant to be comedic, for his girl gave a laugh. Absolutely outrageous.

“I know you... mean well,” she said, ”but it’s just more complicated than that. I’m doing what needs to be done for everyone, all right? Can’t you just...” she said, fumbling for words. Twigs could barely be said to be paying attention to the scene after that point. His mind turned to Malt’s fate, instead. The rest of the conversation rang hollow in his ears.

Eventually--soon enough, at that-- the conversation between the two merchants had finished. Twigs took this as a cue to return to his prior throne atop the pillow. He expertly posed in a matter of seconds in such a natural position that he might have been there for centuries. It was a trick that any cat worth its meddle learned as a kitten. He commenced lazily grooming his paw, both because it gave the appearance of idle boredom and because he really had dirtied his beautiful pads with the dust of this filthy village.

His girl reappeared from beneath the towering Kecleon building and marched over toward him. “I don’t know where you got the idea that I wasn’t busy today, or that you were correct in pulling any of the shit you’ve pulled.” Twigs regarded her anger with indifference. He would be correcting the situation before long, anyway. There was no need for him to get worked up.

“Why, I got that idea from you, darling. We talked about this last week.”

“Yeah?” she said, regarding him with cautious defiance, “cause I thought about that too, and I don’t think we did.”

“Are you certain?”

“Pretty damn certain.”

“You do not recall our conversation? Shortly after I picked you up, after our meal you know, I suggested we do this every week. You said we couldn’t because you had things planned. So, I rearranged your plans for you.”

And then the recollection must have taken her, he was sure of it. Now she would understand the favor he had done her, now that she remembered her predicament and could see how he had helped.

She shuffled on her feet, glared down at the ground and then back up before speaking. “That’s not really what I meant. It’s not okay to mess around with my work. It’s... never okay to do that.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “This isn’t going to work unless you get that. Okay?”

“Of course, darling. You should just be clear next time. I’m not a mind reader.”

She exhaled a sigh--or maybe it was closer to a huff--and then climbed into the other side of the carriage. He already knew that she had wanted to see Chisel, but knew it wasn’t a good idea to reveal that he’d overheard. Not a good idea if he wished to have her decide to mute Malt herself.

=====

Part 24 of "The Dates"
Prev:
Next: