Their Host Tells a Story.
Carly was getting bored, and a little
sleepy. At first, this pitch black cubbyhole had seemed like a safe
place to spend the night, better than some she'd been in since moving
out of Danny's apartment, and the idea of telling stories had sounded
like a fun way to pass the time.
The tall man, as she thought of him, had originally been as eager to get out as she, maybe more so, but then he had suddenly decided that this was all okay with him. She could tell that this whole situation amused him for some reason.
After all, it must have been after ten, so the curfew was on. She'd had a dinner which was filling if nothing else, and their mysterious shuffling host had provided each of them with a heavy mug of strong tea.
But the room was completely dark, she was comfortably warm in her jacket with her hands around the steaming mug. She hadn't had coffee after her dinner with Danny because she'd been getting tired of suppressing her urge to scream, and she was pretty sure this strong, smoky tea didn't have caffeine in it either. Either she'd better get some coffee pretty soon, or their host's story about streets moving around had better get a lot more convincing.
"Should a girl sleep with a man before getting
married?"
"Oh, no, she should stay awake at all times. You can't tell what might happen when you're asleep."
Carly's head jerked up. Had somebody actually said that?
Had she dozed off for a moment? She felt a shifting in the large
shape next to her and wondered if it was suppressed laughter.
She smiled. Maybe he was snoring. Maybe it was the tall man who
had dozed off, not she. She shifted slightly on the worn wooden
bench they both sat on.
Then she realized that the room was silent. The story must have ended. She wondered what happened now.
"So, Ms. Stein," the tall man rumbled, "do you have a story to tell us, or don't you?"
Carly's mind started racing in all directions. She had dozed off. She had already been asked to produce a story. People don't invite you into their caves and give you tea and entertainment without expecting anything in return. She couldn't think of a story right now to save her life. And she was damn sure she hadn't mentioned her last name. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
After a moment, their host said, "Oh, don't alarm the poor girl, just because she started to snore in that outrageous fashion. I'm sure she'll come up with a story in good time. Meanwhile, I'll continue my little tale.
"So, neither of you have heard anything about the streets? Well, you will soon enough. The story will be all over the area in the next day or two, but I'm sure most of what you hear will be hooey. So, let me finish telling you the real story now, so you can weed out what's true and what isn't when you start hearing the rumors. You know, there are times when you simply have to alter your very ideas of how the universe is put together. I–"
"Stop trying to flimflam us and just tell the story, you old fraud," the tall man snapped.
Their host made a grumbling, huffing sound. "I'm trying to make it sound more impressive. You, of course, are tone deaf to such nuances, but it's a common trick in a story-teller's bag." He harumphed again.
"To resume: The third night, I was sitting in Duffy's (which is a fine local drinking establishment, by the way). There was quite a diverse and eclectic group there assembled, and we were engaged in some fairly abstruse metaphysical speculations. It shows, by the way, what kinds of insight can be achieved when fine minds tuned to diverse areas of thought–" There was a strange, non-verbal comment from the tall man, and their host chuckled. "Wandering off the topic, I realize. Well, there are many hours until dawn."
"How long a story is this?" Carly asked. "And what did happen when you and Fifteen went out? I think that's where I dozed off."
Their host sighed, and then suddenly a voice hissed, "Quiet!" and they all fell silent. There was no sound that they could hear from the street outside, but they were all well-trained in the rules of the curfew, so it didn't take much to make them pay attention.
After a few minutes, their host sighed. "Okay, for now,"
he said.
"What was it?" Carly whispered, not sure if it had been their host who had said "Quiet!" or if there was a fourth person in the room with them.
"A patrol," their host replied wheezily. "They didn't stop. We shouldn't be making so much noise, though."
"You're the one who was talking," the tall man rumbled, chuckling.
"And I'll resume, if there aren't any more interruptions. A man can't hear himself think around here." He let out a long sigh. "Where was I?"
"The streets," the tall man said. "You were telling us about the streets."
Something in his tone made Carly pay attention, though she tried not to tense up or make any noise. The tall man had tried to sound casual, but she suddenly got the idea that he was actually interested in the subject. It was almost as though he took the whole thing seriously.
"I'll back up a little," their host said, "and I hope everybody can manage to stay awake this time."