He moped his way towards the back room, but it was empty, save for a large number of boxes, bottles, chairs, a desk.. Not that empty, then. Still, Fabian was nowhere in sight. Guess I’ll wait for him, then...
In front of the desk was what appeared to be a lillypad, but the way it was positioned made it look like a chair. Anana was known for her green and nature-esque themes sometimes, so it didn’t seem that unusual to Gunpowder. When he placed his big butt atop the chair and it spoke, however, he knew something was amiss.
“Watch where you’re pointing that thing there, muchacha!” The chair stood up on its feet, being surprisingly tall for a.. lilypad. Gunpowder’s lack of deductive reasoning was sometimes surprising, but in this case, it did not fail him, and he guessed correctly that this creature was Fabian.
“Eh.. Yeah, that’s me,” replied Fabian in a most sluggish voice. “I was enjoyin’ a bit of a siesta while waiting for my chica to come back. We got a lot of countin’ to do still.” He scoped Gunpowder out. “Why’re you here, anyway, eh? This area’s for employees only, muchacha.”
“Aye, I am an employee. Just started. Been helpin’ Anana for a while, but not here at the shop. This be rather new to me, and I got sent back here ‘cause--” Gunpowder thought for a moment, his face turning a bit red. Best not tell the truth to someone he only just met. “--well, ‘cause I’m not feelin’ too well today, yeah. So Anana sent me back to give ya a bit of a hand!”
“Oh. An idiot, then, eh?” Fabian scoffed. He knew that Anana wouldn’t let someone in the back unless she trusted them enough to not steal, or if she thought they were too stupid to do so. Since Fabian hadn’t heard of Gunpowder before, process of elimination pointed to only one answer.
Despite those words cutting Gunpowder real deep, he laughed. His situation was rather amusing, after all. It’s not like he was in this God-forsaken bay by choice anyway. He didn’t actually care what the residents thought of him. He knew he was wise in ways they would never understand.
Gunpowder wasn't about to leave it at that, though. He explained to Fabian his arrival at the bay. Gunpowder remembered being on his ship with Bluegill, and then.. something.. happened. His memory was foggy about that point. A total blank. He remembered being on the ship, and then waking up in the care of some doctors at the bay. Anana was there to comfort him; she later explained that her and Bluegill were associates. Surprising, since Bluegill was a scurvy pirate and Anana was but a child. Life is full of surprises, though. From then until talking to Fabian, he had just been helping Anana.
Fabian listened to the whole story intently and, in fact, seemed to quite enjoy it. Once Gunpowder had finished, Fabian apologized for his previous remark and said that Gunpowder was a “buena muchacha." Whatever that meant. Gunpowder felt his story had wasted enough time and was about to ask what work was required of him, but Fabian had a different idea: more time was to be wasted with stories. The onslaught of questions was almost unbearable. About Gunpowder's hometown, about what it was like to sail on the sea, about his experiences with Anana. It was just too much.
Finally, Fabian gave up on asking Gunpowder for more stories. Unfortunately, the pirate was not free. Not even close. It was time for Fabian to tell his own stories, and he could probably spend an entire week telling them. All of them were long, all of them were boring. Well, all of them but one, though Gunpowder’s lack of attention made it hard to catch. It was something concerning Anana's sister.. Apparently, this girl had run away and no one had seen her since. Anana had never mentioned her sister to Gunpowder before, so it was worth storing in Ye Olde Mental Bank. Otherwise, Gunpowder’s mind had left.
"H-hey," shouted a familiar voice. It was Anana. "What are you two-- Fabian! Are you wasting time again?!" She had placed her hands on her hips and spoke in a firm tone. Almost like an angry mother. For all Gunpowder knew, Fabian was actually Anana's adopted son.
"A-ah, Miss Anana. I was just tellin' this new guy how we do business around here and--"
"No buts, Fabian," interrupted Anana. Fabian hadn't said 'but', so Gunpowder thought it a bit odd...
"Right, right. Lo siento, chica." Fabian bowed his head in shame.
"It's OK, dearie. You'll just have to stay back extra late to make up for it! Then I'll let you go home." She winked at Gunpowder when saying this, as if it were an inside joke for the two of them. She then turned her attention directly to Gunpowder. "Speaking of home... it's time to close up shop! I've already finished everything, so I hope you're ready for some supper!"
Gunpowder was always ready for supper. And lunch, and breakfast, and mid-day snacksies, and before-bed-comfort-meal, and the list went on. He liked to eat, in any case. Of course, instead of informing Anana of his gluttony, he simply nodded and followed her out of the store.
Part 3 of
's unnamed story