Merry - Chapter 67

   A gaggle of people were arranged around the small campfire ring outside Merry and Panic's little cabin. Merry would now and again go back inside, to wipe him off with cool, clean water. Get him to drink some, and let him pass back out. Merry came back out from such a trip, plopped down in her camp chair, and addressed the newcomer.

   "Well?"

   The new guy stopped fiddling with his pipe, long enough to look out over his reading glasses to eye her. Right now he seemed to be scraping it with one of those bizarre, folding pipe tools.

   "Well, what?"

   He idly blew some of the scraped ash out, then tapped the rest. Tested it, it passed whatever muster he required of it.

   "You're the Doctor, what's wrong with him?"

   "Hmm. By wrong, do you mean… physically? He's obviously really sick."

   "Wow, Doctor. Impressive diagnosis."

   Doc as they called him? Was a fairly tall, heavyset guy. Older, with a long full beard. Instead of drinking the 'awesome brandy' he claimed he had been promised? He had a few fingers of it in a styrofoam cup in it's receptacle on the camping chair he had claimed for his own. He dropped his pipe down in it, making sure the mouth stem stayed upright, and only the bowl stayed below the brandyline.

   "Your sarcasm? Noted. Yet… entirely unfounded. Not everyone called 'doctor' has a medical degree, Merry. Do you still want me to guess for you? I will, as most people can't seem to use the internet for anything other than porn and shopping."

   Doc fiddled with the pipe. He wiped out the inside with his finger, loosening and smearing the char around. Everytime he did this, he experimentally twisted the stem to see how much it was swelling. It wasn't done yet, and it went back in and under the brandyline.

   "Well?"

   "Well what?"

   "Are you going to guess for me? Or, do I have to… do something special to get you talking."

   "If you could answer simple yes no questions? That would help. I'm not a medical doctor, and, I can't read minds either. I asked you, if you wanted me to guess for you? You sat there like a bump on a log."

   Merry sighed.

   "Yes, I want you to guess for me."

   "Then… pick up your phone. Don't open up porn, don't open up shopping. Search for… things like… 'this year flu map' and 'this year flu tracker'… you'll know when you find it… click on Pennsylvania… then click on this county we're in… then let me see your phone when you think you might have it."

   He had that slightly dull monotone some educated people have. Anyone with even a year of any sort of college has experienced it before, coming out of some intellectual. Some brilliant and educated people had that sound and tone, some didn't. Others merely adopted the affectation. Merry sighed and followed his instructions. After a couple minutes, she seemed to have it. More than one official website, was tracking the flu viruses around this year. She moved to hand him the phone.

   "Let's see how well you can read and write, before I have to do it for you, Merry. How many flu variants are here, where we're at?"

   "Looks like just the one. Came up from south of us slowly… they call it Flu-I, variant Ia…"

   Doc waved the phone off she held out, Doc was more interested in retrieving his soaking pipe now. A final wipe out and blow out.

   "Because there is a variant? I'm sure there's a little blurb about Ia… find it, and read it. I bet it matches up to his symptoms. Unless he's had recent contact with outsiders."

   Merry sighed, and Doc filled his now brandy soaked pipe bowl up with his tobacco, from a pouch.

   "They are calling it a 'nasty' variant of I, which was apprently already bad enough. Seven day version. 48 hour incubation period… four days of main symptoms, which are severe. Profound sweating… nearly complete incapacitation… periodic awakening, with bad fever hallucinations. Inability to focus correctly on objects and stimuli. Complete confusion."

   Doc prodded her, as he prodded his packed pipe bowl, testing it, before lighting it.

   "Final day?"

   "Yes… day seven. Weakness and dehydration. Ability to focus on objects and stimuli. Confusion goes away immediately."

   "Excellent, you can read… I kind of suspected you could, I was having trouble imagining our Colonel Panic sleeping with some dimwit."

   "How do we know what day he's in?"

   Doc was starting to light his pipe with a large wooden match…

   "Well… how many days did all you geniuses let him lay here like this, without water?"

   Everyone looked at Rob…

   "He's… up at the campfire for a late lunch, early dinner. He's in a great mood. He goes home early… he's waiting on a call from Merry. That's the last we hear from him."

   "What day was that, Rob?"

   Rob told him…

   "Merry? Did you talk to him like it was planned?"

   "No. He never answered the phone or a text."

   "Yet… he was here, most likely. Now, follow the math. Two days incubation, you wouldn't know he was sick yet, even he wouldn't know it. Five days of showing the symptoms. I think, the first of five days? Begins around he won't answer his phone… I mean, I'm assuming he wants to talk to his girlfriend, obviously."

   Everyone started counting on their fingers…

   Doc fussed over his pipe. Pulling on it, and occasionally pushing down on the brandy soaked tobacco from being packed in the soaked pipe.

   "Yes… how many days did everyone leave him here, with no one to care for him, other than a housecat, hmm?"

   "Looking like three days…"

   "Today? Day four…"

   Doc had his pipe where he wanted it, it seemed…

   "Up till it breaks? His eyes don't really see anything but blurry shapes. He can't focus his eyes. He has a high enough fever? He's having fever hallucinations. Of course? He's fighting people helping him… he's babbling in a strange foreign language I never heard of… Rob says he's afraid we're going to burn him alive… he's either posessed by evil spirits? Or, hallucinating. I'm going to go with fever hallucinations, just a wild guess there… my crystal ball says, symptom day five? Is tomorrow night around or after nightfall. Won't be hard to miss. He will recognize people he looks at when he wakes up."

   "He's gone three days without water. That's the goo all over him. That's what bad fever sweat looks like… when no one gives them water. You about dehydrated him. Tomorrow night sometime? When he can talk normally, and see things and it isn't all blurry blobs? He'll be five days without food. I'd suggest getting some warm, soft food into him. If he doesn't want water? I'd go with warm tea or warm coffee. If he won't take anything else? Let him dunk toast in the warm tea. Ginger ale is famous for settling the stomach. Make it room temperature. Everything. All food, all drink… room temperature or slightly above. Nothing hot, nothing cold."

   Merry was slightly irritated…

   "Why did no one check on him for over three days, and his only caretaker was a cat?"

   Rob spoke up, if uncharacteristically quietly, to answer her.

   "This might come as a shock to you, Merry, but… when you aren't around? Panic is prone to be a… moody creature. He'll go from being a comedian? To… quiet and brooding. In fact, that's not anything being wrong with him, that's how he was for years before you showed up. If he shows up at the campfire, and is all social and friendly? Fine. He went off for some phone call from you… we don't know how that call went. If he disappears for three days? Nothing weird for him."

   "Rob? I can take it from here, I only need to care for him another day, then, I can get him up and around, according to the doctor's schedule. Except…"

   Rob nodded.

   "You can't handle him if he starts talking funny and yanks you over by your wrist."

   "Yeah… what was he calling me? Loona-tie, mostly. Over and over again. Then he changed it the last time. Loona-tie, loona-toot."

   Rob got quiet.

   "He's out of it, we all know that, right? He… thinks he's in a friendly village. Down at the equator. We only figured out a few words of their language. I nicknamed the language? Speaking fuck-sticks."

   "Okay. I was starting to think he was calling me a lunatic, and couldn't talk right."

   "No… loona is thanks… tie? Is 'you'… you were wiping him off? Giving him water? He kept saying thank you, over and over again…"

   "What was toot then?"

   "Uh… he said thank you a bunch… then he finished with… well, toot means 'everybody'. He finished with, literally… thank you, thank everybody."

   Doc was finishing up his pipe, and wondered aloud.

   "Right before he yanked me off my feet by grabbing my wrist, he kept saying 'twah… twah…' and it honestly sounded like a three year old asking for a straw?"

   "Twah? Means 'stop'… he thought you were… preparing him for a funeral pyre. He was trying to tell you, he wasn't dead, don't burn him…"

   "Well then, that does explain the death grip he had on me then. Where the fuck did he get that idea from?"

   "Well… once he thinks he's back in the village… let me guess, you were smoking your damn pipe, weren't you?"

   "Sure…"

   "Only person that has burning stuff that smells good? The witch doctor. Remember, he can't move or talk very much. He can't see anything… plus? When I got him talking, when I pulled him off you? He told me not to let you all burn him, he wasn't dead yet."

   Doc repeated quietly…

   "Twah… twah… twah…"

   "So, doc… who's gonna stay with me here for the night?"

   "Merry, obviously. You heard her…"

   Rob pointed at his ears…

   "These? They work… who else?"

   "What else do you need?"

   Merry put her face in her hands…

   "Little Robbie? Can you drop the bullshit, for just one fucking night? It's obvious he hears your voice, he'll listen to you, he trusts you. Plus… if he grabs me up like he did Doc, your the man for that job."

   Rob now raised his voice.

   "Miss Merry? It's not fucking bullshit. You get someone else here with me? Or I walk back to the main camp. Skykid's on watch."

   Merry sarcastically imitated Rob…

   "I'm so big and so tough? I'm scared to be alone after dark with a girl."

   When raising his voice didn't work? Rob lowered the volume, but turned the intensity up.

   "Listen to me. I explained the rules to you. I don't remember an 'except if it's fucking convenient' clause, do you? Now then… if you think, that your pathetic attempt at shaming language, is going to make me do whatever you say, just because you have a twat? You have me seriously confused with some left-wing, liberal fucktard you must be used to dealing with. We're not bargaining, little girl. No escort? No little Robbie. Oh… and I can see the look on your face, and I don't give a fuck about that, either. You raise your hand to me? I don't suggest you try me on that. Now then, you already know my rules. I'll be up at the other camp, having a snack. Come and get me if you accept my rules. Or don't. Bye…"

   And Rob walked off.

   Doc started to go after him, Merry waved him back.

   "Let him go. We probably don't need him for a while."

   Doc shrugged.

   "Probably. Most likely. Hopefully. Sounds decidedly unscientific to me. On the other hand? If we do need him? That won't be the time to be looking, calling, bargaining… all that shit should have been done now. Not… whenever, later on. You know… when my arm is about to come off…"

   Merry looked at Doc, they were now seated in opposing camping chairs.

   "You don't think Rob is being ridiculous?"

   "Actually? I'm long already aware of Rob's odd escort rule. What does it hurt, anyways."

   "He's being difficult, at the wrong time to be difficult about this…"

   "Oh. I see. And… you, had a choice of simply helping him find an escort, or… making fun of him and challenging his masculinity to his face. Gee. Was it as helpful a plan, as you must have imagined it in your little head right before you said it?"

   "You approve of his shit."

   "I didn't say I approved. I also, didn't say I disapproved, either. Logically, either it's a harmless rule, or, a rule that prevents harm. Then… what gave you the idea that you can just call Rob a faggot or a sissy to his ever loving face… and expect good results. Honestly, where's the brilliance in that plan coming from."

   "Okay… I give up. I can't play this fucking game all goddamn night. What do you propose I do?"

   "Well. All I want you to do, is be logical. First off? Rob and Panic? Are extremely tight. You? Will come way farther down the list, than you think. Believe it or not? Skykid has the same relationship with both of them."

   "So?"

   "No matter what… both of them know that you're important to Panic. I don't even have to know how important or unimportant you really are to Rob or Sky. Now. On top of being important to Panic? You are, right now, trying to take care of their best friend when he's weak and vulnerable. That makes you even more important. So yes? Rob will be like a pissed off momma bear. I honestly don't think you should try to make a habit of trying to tell Rob what to do, after he says no, by making fun of him. Also? I highly doubt you can flatter him into doing what he says no to, either."

   "You still haven't told me what you think I should do… more of a lot of what not to do."

   "My advice? Easy… go get Skykid. Explain what happened, in detail. Be honest, and admit exactly what you did, and what the result was."

   "Skykid is on watch…"

   "So? Any idjit can watch the main trail. Go. Tell Skykid. He'll get a replacement for watch. Skykid? Will go to Rob… and voila, you have your escort. Those two? Will sleep in shifts, watching over him, if they think it helps."

   "Actually? That makes a lot of sense…"

   "Yeah, doesn't it? And one more thing, while you're still discovering being rational."

   "What's that?"

   "I could have been… and still could be? The escort until Skykid gets off of watch duty, if you can't get a replacement for that. But? You had to go and kick Rob in the nuts, so… now you have to apologize to Rob, and we have to play ring around the rosy, to get what we already had in the palm of our hand before you launched your brilliant plan into action…"

   "Okay. Will you at least stay here, while I go get Skykid, and see about apologizing to Robbie?"

   "Sure. Go."

   Merry? Went to Skykid and another member, watching the main trail. Skykid started laughing halfway through the story, then Merry finished. Skykid chuckled, shaking his head.

   "Hey… will you call around? See if you can get a replacement for me?"

   Merry was happy it was going easier then she thought…

   "Okay, so… go with me, to get Robbie?"

   "Uh… with what escort?"

   "Oh, fuck… you too…"

   "Yeah, Pocahantas… me too. No big deal. Go, and apologize to Rob, then go back to the cabin with Doc. Rob will bring my replacement out if I don't already get one. Then? Me and Rob will meet you at the cabin, and relieve Doc."

   Merry returned to the cabin, and sat and watched Doc fuss with his brandy soaked pipe. They talked idly and easily about various things. Within approximately 45 minutes, Rob and Skykid came. Rob more or less acted like nothing had happened, with the exception he didn't engage Merry in conversation much.

   Merry apologized to Rob, and explained she was exasperated because everyone let Panic fall into this state by not checking up on him once in over three days. Rob explained that part was fine, he understood the motivation… but…

   "Merry? You need to understand something about me. If I tell you something violates one of my rules? Especially if you already know it's important to me. And… you try to force me to go against it, the way you tried to? That's what you get. And… before it comes up, I'll address the other issue. Maybe you've put your hand across Panic's face, and he let you get away with it once or twice? That's him. Just remember, I won't. Now, you can argue, and we can disagree, but… no one, man or woman, puts their hands on me. I treat both of them the same. Everyone is always whining about equal treatment? I treat men and women the same on that count. I refuse to be sexist."

   Merry asked…

   "So? Are we good?"

   "Hell, we're fine. How else you going to understand my rules and my code, that I'm serious about it? No other way."

   Skykid cut in…

   "This is wonderful and all, but… right now? We have four people here watching him. If we all stay? It'll be easier for us to take turns watching him… and… if anyone needs the rest? Or… the extra help? We're right here anyways."

   Rob observed…

   "Yeah, you're right. No reason one or two people be wiped out the next morning, when we can spread it out and everyone gets sleep."

   Doc opined…

   "Too early to turn in for a nap anyways… anyone have a deck of cards?"

   Merry had a deck in no time.

   Doc started…

   "Bridge?"

   To which no one raised their hands.

   "Spades?"

   Again, a no hands choice.

   "Euchre?"

   One by one, all the hands went up. Euchre it was.

   Amidst all the drama that was beginning to subside, against all the leftover sarcasm still going around getting burned off… Doc could finally vent some…

   "My goddamn turn to complain, you know."

   Skykid wanted to know about who? Merry pointed at Robbie, and Rob pointed at Merry. All three started gently arguing about who was getting the brunt of Doc's frustration. Doc finally raised his voice. Which as it turned out? Was rather deep and resonant and a hair gravelly. He just hardly ever used it.

   "Enough! Enough is enough! Listen to you three, would you? I said I'm finally irritated, and about to complain? You three start arguing like little kids, who's in trouble. All three of you? Shut the hell up! I'm doing the complaining now! It's my turn! You're a-l-l a pain up my ass now, you know that?"

   Everyone stopped playing with the cards. Stopped and looked at Doc, looked at each other and back around, then back to Doc once again.

   "There's a man, so sick he could be said to be on death's doorstep in there… and honestly, just look at yourselves. You're more worried about… everything else, than just taking care of the sick guy."

   All three start talking softly, explaining themselves, all at once. A soft cacophony.

   "What is it with you three?!?! Shut up!! You're doing it again!!"

   All three stared at him.

   Doc started accusing. He pointed at Rob…

   "You! This escort business. It's wonderful, it's even noble. I mean, it's greek philosopher noble… and? We could stand to get a… goddamned Papal Dispensation, to suspend it. When an emergency calls for it. Now, I know the odds are against it? But still… I had to sit here for 45 minutes, risking getting my arm ripped off, if Panic woke up and I had to go in there. All because the White Knight refuses to wear a black handkerchief, in an emergency to make do. Don't even start…"

   Without taking pause, he pointed at Skykid…

   "You? You could have been the voice of reason. You usually are, but… instead you encouraged him. With Panic out of the picture? You're about the only person left, that can butt heads with the Teutonic Twit here, and live to tell the tale. Thanks for all the diplomatic help, while I'm sitting here for 45 minutes, looking at my arm, that still hurts by the way. Every time he moans in there? I'm nervous to go in."

   He next came around to Merry herself…

   "And you… if you already know these guys, what they're like, and what they're about… why wait for a pressure situation, then try to do juvenile six year old tricks. No, in a pressure cooker? You do whatever you know's gonna work. Even if it's the long way around the barn."

   Doc continued to grumble even after all the official accusations were over.

   "Meanwhile, back at the ranch? Everyone left me, and poor Merry here… alone. Oh, my, god… the things we did Rob? You should have seen it… Merry stole her big chance. She climbed a tree naked, and did a triple half gainer, right onto my sixty year old dick… I couldn't believe it…"

   Everyone was shocked at Doc's sudden use of perverted imagery and black humor and foul language… it was completely out of character for him.

   Merry chuckled…

   "Yeah, Rob… then? A goddamned squirrel came down, tried to climb right up my ass. I didn't know I'd like it? But… oh my god…"

   Doc was finally off his tirade, it seemed…

   "Yeah. Me, her… the squirrel? We swung from the branches, like little fuck monkeys… you should have seen it! All? Because you weren't here, for 45 minutes, Rob… we couldn't handle it… where were you, when we needed you the most, Rob? Huh?"

   Rob wanted to know…

   "Is everyone done making fun of Rob?"

   "Rob, make no mistake… it was all three of you. Honestly, it reminds me of my house at the last holidays. I got three grandkids staying. We're talking little kids, they're going to do weird shit. One of the kids? Starts wearing a empty box of breakfast cereal on their head. Says you can't leave the kitchen without one…"

   "Now… somehow, instead of making fun of him? The other two? Start crying… they can't leave the kitchen. They won't leave the kitchen. Those two? Keep eating the next box of cereal, till they about wanna puke, just to get the empty box. Now? Those two? At least got an empty box to share to get out the kitchen."

   "Now… our grown children, and their spouses? Are all out shopping. For the holidays! Next thing you know, the two with cereal boxes on their head? Are outside, I can see them out the kitchen window. The third one? Trapped inside? Is crying now… his partner isn't sharing their box. Me and Grandma, knew what to do… we dumped out another box of cereal, so, the third kid now gets his own cereal box helmet… now he can sneak outside, and get the other two, they don't know he has one yet."

   "I know, this would be cute. Until it's time for bed. We have to get the cereal boxes off their heads, or, there's no sleeping. No boxes? They have to be in the kitchen! Remember… you're not allowed out the kitchen, without a box on your head."

   "So now? We got three little kids, sleeping in the kitchen, with blankets and pillows. We steal the boxes, so… ironically? They can't escape the kitchen till morning, when we promise to give the boxes back. Everything's okay now. Me and the wife? Grandpa and Grandma? Finally, get to go to bed. With empty cereal boxes locked up in the closet, for god's sake."

   "Our adult children get home late, with their spouses. What do they know. They pick the three little kids up, and put them into the beds they were supposed to be in all along. You wanna know how I woke up? Around 5am, screeching of three terrified children, like sirens that won't go off… one gets up to pee, figures out they're out of the kitchen, and, there's no box! This gets the other two up, now they're frantic too."

   "Me and the wife? We're not stupid grandparents, we locked our bedroom door… three pissed off screeching kids invade all the adult children's rooms, waking them and their spouses up, screaming, jumping up and down on the beds, beating the parents with pillows, demanding to know where… the helmets are."

   "Me and the wife? We covered our heads with pillows, like two little kids, so no one can hear us laughing our asses off. Because at this point? Screw the grandkids, screw the adult children, and screw the spouses. It's now our turn to have fun with everyone else. So? We let this circus go on for an hour. See, there's no more cereal boxes to get? We got them all locked up in the closet…"

   "After a half hour of fun? I can't take anymore. I go out my door, and there's complete, and I do mean complete pandemonium in the hallway. Honestly now, I got 2 adult boys, and an adult girl. All three? Are college educated, have somewhat important careers of their own now, and spouses with them. All of a sudden? It's just like they're little children all over again! With sleepover friends!"

   "It's funny. The two boys? Are arguing which kid is weirder, therefore, more responsible for this weirdness. My daughter? Not a shrinking violet… she's pushing and shoving right with the boys. All three spouses? The two girl spouses, are arguing with each other, and arguing with the children, who are beating the adults, by the way, with throw pillows. The girl's husband? Is pushing and shoving with the two brothers."

   "Now… this is what I come out of my room to. Three, graduate college degree educated children… with families and careers… all now yelling and pushing like they're six years old again. Kinda nostalgic? But, mostly irritating. I screamed for everyone to quit!"

   "Now… didn't anyone see my note?? That I left the grandkids sleep in the kitchen, it was fine? Sure… and the wives of the two brothers? Decided that wasn't good for the children, they should sleep in the bed, where they should be. Which caused the whole problem, by the way. Everyone wanted to know what I wanted? Told everyone to shut up…"

   "I took all three kids, and took them to the kitchen. Soon as the three kids are in the kitchen? They magically quit screaming. I went and got the blankets and pillows off the kid's beds? Dragged them in the kitchen… kids laid right down. I then sent everyone back to bed… that's three adult children, and three adult spouses."

   "The brother's wives were the problem. What kind of grandparents, leaves kids unsupervised in the kitchen all night. Why, I asked? Well… they'll eat cereal all night. Ha! We're out of cereal now! We're all okay… go… to… bed! Brothers wives are still pissed… soon as we're asleep? The kids will 'run around' and get into 'something'… Aha! The kids can't leave the kitchen without screaming, without the magic helmets. Which are locked up in my closet, and not coming out of said closet? Until Grandpa and Grandma are done sleeping in. Everything? Covered! Go… to… bed!"

   "I had to tell my adult daughter? To handle the brother's wives… see, my daughter? Grew up earning the respect of the two brothers, so, she's not to be taken lightly… then? I go back to bed. Me and the wife decide, it's our house, we're sleeping in, till 10am if we feel like it. I also informed my kids? They need to go out and buy more cereal, because the kids ate it all to get magic helmets, I'll explain in the morning."

   "Now… can any of you three, tell me the moral of the story? Rob."

   Rob pouted…

   "Little goddamn kids need to sleep where and when they're told, anything else is the tail wagging the dog…"

   Doc jumped him…

   "Err! You sound like the two brother's wives… they were the whole problem. Besides? We're all in Grandpa's house, which means Grandpa is in charge, anyways. I leave a note, to let the kids sleep in the kitchen? Just happened to have been a good reason. And, little children will not die if they camp out in the kitchen for fun instead of in the holy sacred bed. I hate that OCD shit…"

   "Merry? Care to tell me the moral of the story?"

   "Well, if Rob's got OCD and is wrong, then…"

   "Err! Just because Rob's wrong? Doesn't make you magically right, Merry. You're not so different from my daughter, pushing and shoving with the brothers. Butting heads. My daughter? Wasn't… useful… until I sicced her on the brother's wives, which was the root of the problem, which I had already engineered a particularly elegant solution to. Butting heads, without purpose or direction? It's just more pandemonium, and it's not terribly helpful."

   "Skykid! You're all that's left. Please, tell me you have some grasp of what the moral of the story is, here…"

   "Uh… if Rob isn't right… and Merry isn't right… that means you don't think anyone's right or wrong. We're then… all… fighting in the hallway like a bunch of grown up six year olds?"

   "Amen. Close enough. Not to mention? When you encounter a special situation, and everything's working? Consider letting it go, until morning and seeing what's really going on."

   Rob wanted to know if they were ready to play cards yet…

   "Almost. Tomorrow morning? I, am personally taking Merry here, into town. Alone, unsupervised. With, or without? The magic butt squirrel. We're having coffee… we're having breakfast… we might even walk around the shops while she shows me what's here… I don't give a crap, if everyone sits around and comes up with gossip, how we're screwing in the bathroom somewhere… I honestly don't think Panic will buy that one, I give him more credit that that, I think…"

   "Great… so, now we can play cards?"

   "Rules. Only real choices… how many points to a game, and, screw the dealer, or no screw the dealer."

   Everyone wanted as many points to a game as possible, so, 15… eights and sevens were the score cards. Everyone voted for screw the dealer, turned out it was half the fun of the game.

   In between each game? They had to swap partners, and Merry had to go in and try to get water into Panic's mouth and down his throat. Skykid produced boullion cubes for chicken flavor. Doc liked the idea of some salt and sugar for electrolytes. After a while, they took turns staying awake while the others got to slump down in their camping chairs and take a nap.

   When they all were finally awake in the first rays of the morning light, Rob was vanished. Merry walked in the cabin to check on Panic, and found Rob had him. Rob was sitting on the mattress, and had Panic in between his long legs, his head and shoulders drawn up against his own torso. He had his chin gently cupped, and had Panic bobbing his head yes or no, for when it was time he wanted another sip of room temperature chicken bullion cube water in the cup.

   Amidst all of little Robbie's other "tricks", this one really took the cake. He was wrangling him as best he could, as if he was a giant adult baby. That level of care taken, to make sure he didn't choke on any but a tiny sip at a time, that he was ready and wasn't trying to breathe when Rob was thinking sip time.

   Rob didn't wait for being quizzed.

   "You were mainly going in to feed the baby most of the night? I took the last couple hours, to give you a couple hours sleep. Before you go to breakfast and shopping with Doc."

   Merry went and got Doc, she had to show him this… then Skykid joined him. Doc gently quizzed him…

   "Language?"

   "He's all english now. What little he says, anyways."

   "Does he know who you are? Who he is?"

   "Yeah. And I mean by name, not just by instinct."

   "Does he know where he is?"

   "Yeah Doc. He knows he went to his cabin, and he knows that's where he is."

   "Does he know what day it is?"

   "Don't expect Algebra, Doc. He takes my word for it, how many days he's been in here."

   Doc nodded and retreated out the door. Merry smiled at Rob… and waved. Warm and friendly. Rob nodded, he knew what she meant.

   "Skykid… you wanna finish this?"

   "Eh. Sure… he doesn't fight it anymore?"

   "No. We were laughing about that…"

   Skykid came, and exchanged places with Rob, to let him go out with Doc and Merry.

   Doc gently chided Merry…

   "You see, Merry? When you're getting spectacular results, you just dont question the little weird stuff. Okay?"

   Merry just nodded, slightly sheepishly. Doc, for his part, said he was going to go off, and get ready for taking Merry out for breakfast, he'd be back in a little while. Which left Merry and Rob to talk at the low morning fire.

   Rob started.

   "You are, naturally, gonna wanna know how I got like this, right?"

   "You don't have to---"

   "It's no secret. A search on our site would bring the basic story up. Anyways, I'm back from the service. I got a bricklaying and tile business going, I'm a contractor. I also? Got my own dojo going. I was a kickboxer at one time, I wanted to try to get a dojo running. Place to stay in shape, maybe make a few bucks training kids, that kinda deal."

   "Sure."

   "Had a girl, too. Nice girl, I thought. I had a kickboxing buddy, he put a few bucks into the dojo to help out, we ended up partners. He's a framing carpenter, I'm a mason. We can do our own jobs, take turns teaching our kids, yada yada. Now, this was no regular partner, this was one of my best friends from when I was a young kickboxer. Man, everything is going great… I'm engaged to be married to this pretty girl, I own my own business, I own half of another. Same for him too. He had his own girl, he had his own framing company, and now he has half the dojo like I do. Man, I thought everybody couldn't be doing better. I mean, what more does anyone want, or need, right?"

   Merry smiled wan…

   "Some kind of cheating, is what happened… I about guarantee it, right?"

   "Oh, yep, yep… I walk in the dojo one day? My old lady is there, telling my partner to go ahead, tell me already. I'm like, tell me what?"

   "Christ."

   "Yeah. Right in front of the teenage fighters, too. No fucking privacy."

   "How did that mess go?"

   "Oh. The usual. You know, every fucking goddamned time I encounter this shit, with mine, or, another buddy has the same shit go down? Always the same limp dick story. It's always an accident. They didn't really mean to… These things? Well, they just… happen."

   "Yeah… everyone says that. I'm with you? It doesn't mean shit."

   "Wow. Most people agree that shit just happens. Now, somehow, this shit never happens on accident to me. I ain't never accidentally fucked my friend's girl. Not once. I told him… this is bullshit. I gave him my terms…"

   "Which were? I mean, dare I ask…"

   "I decided. There's a 50 percent ownership at stake, in the kickboxing dojo. There's also a 50 percent ownership at stake, in the slut. She's still with me up until that fucking moment. We fight. Right now. It'll be fair… all the kickboxing students? Get to watch, and keep it fair. He thought winner gets the girl."

   "It wasn't?"

   "Fuck that shit… winner gets the kickboxing dojo signed over to them, 100 percent ownership. Fucking loser has to take the no good slut, and leave town."

   "How did it turn out?"

   "Eh. Our students, got to watch both their master's level kickboxers kick the holy shit out of one another for about a half an hour straight. One long match. No rounds, no breaks, full contact, no holds barred. I won, so, I got the dojo. He lost? He has to take the slut out of town and never return. Now, technically, no one wins a fight, not really… but… what do I do in the future?"

   "You… develop the escort rules…"

   "Merry? Everyone just keeps saying… how it just happens. So… whatever it is? I don't ever want it to happen to me. After all, I'm just about perfect anyways, I can't have something like that mar my personal record. I… wanna be on guard against it. So? Hello, old fashioned escort rules. Turns out? Old timers knew what the fuck they were doing on that shit, for hundreds of years and longer back. Standard shit, back in the day."

   "Another good old fashioned value… flushed down the commode."

   "You know what the funny thing is, Merry?"

   "What?"

   "Men? Don't complain about the escort rules. They like the idea. As long as you're not cheating into yer buddy's girl's pants? It's fine and dandy with men. No, you wanna take a guess, who complains about the escorting rules? Hmm?"

   "The women…"

   "Yeah… you know what they say?"

   "It's old fashioned…"

   "No. They say, it means you don't trust them… I mean, can you believe that shit? You… of all people… have to be on my side with that one…"

   "Yeah…"

   "Now then. Miss Merry. This is how Robbie? Got to be the perfect asshole, that he is today. You see… me, Skykid, and Panic in there?"

   "Yes…"

   "We were in the service. We already know what happens the instant a married guy gets deployed. It's fucking open season on his woman, and here comes anyone and everyone on base to enjoy her, everyone knows it's true, ask anyone on any base. Us three? We ain't never gonna do that shit to each other. No fucking accidents, just happening."

   "Rob? Thanks. You don't have to explain yourself, you know…"

   "I know. I don't mind. I care about Panic in there, in case you didn't notice."

   "You… want anything? Brought back from town?"

   "Not really. Skykid's gonna get going for breakfast soon. I'll take over with Panic until you get back. If you wanna bring something back? Bring back some electrolyte bottled fluid. Maybe some of them protein drinks. I bet that gets him up and moving around enough we can help him to a camp chair to eat like an adult. Go on. Here comes Doc anyways…"

   Merry smiled, and got up to leave with Doc for breakfast and shopping, to show Doc the town. Skykid when done, went to see about breakfast. Rob stayed to make sure Panic didn't wake up and need anything. Merry enjoyed spending time talking with Doc. He had a whole other side to Panic he revealed to Merry. She of course already knew about his "spastic geek" side, as she had nicknamed it between themselves, but… Doc talking about it made it somehow "official" in some way. Official in so far as, Panic wasn't hiding it online or anything, and would basically talk about that side of things with anyone. They just had to be interested, and naturally most normal people weren't.

   While smiling between conversations with Doc about anything and everything… Merry found her mind constantly drifting towards what it would be like to have a whole another life, the way Panic seemed to. Merry of course knew about having "another life" but… her own? Was composed of "secrets", and that wasn't the same thing. Panic's own "former asset" status was what he hid and kept secret as best he could. But his gun world? Open for the world to see. His hobby lives? Open for the world to be invited in. Off of web pages and downloads offered, if no other avenue could be found.

   Merry was forced to "be" Merry with no choices available to her. Whereas most undercover pool workers were first and foremost and primarily an FBI agent… and their act was secondary to their everyday lives? Merry was a different type of undercover pool worker. She would routinely be considered a possible asset against other FBI agents. This meant her entire FBI agent status was the hidden secret part she couldn't enjoy.

   This had ended up being very dangerous. Most FBI agents no other agent would have the stones to come and try to kill them. But a single steakhouse waitress? Well… why not. No, the only fun hobby-life Merry had that rivaled Panic's "spastic" side, was her article studying/writing gig.

   Doc enjoyed the coffee donut shop. Merry got him there before the chief and his guy coming off duty and his guy coming onto duty were still hanging with him. Merry would smile politely with any of the boys from her camp having an extended "gun and hunting conversation" with anyone else, and particularly cops. So she smiled politely with the whole gun and hunting conversation with Doc and chief and both town cops.

   Doc had an ace up his sleeve though… he was a custom knifemaker as a personal hobby. Shit. The chief and both his cops were interested in that subject even more than guns and hunting. Knives went right along with hunting, and being an outdoorsman. Turned out? All cops carried a knife or two. Merry learned a new acronym as well. EDC. Extended Duty Carry. Apparently, anyone carrying a knife every day, all day? Considered it special. The cops did. Doc did too. Doc had a couple home made's to show off… Merry smiled politely as "knives and making them" doubled out the original "guns and hunting" allotment of interval.

   After the chief and both cops drifted off to all either home or work… Merry stayed politely with Doc. Merry wanted to impress her boyfriend's friend; Panic often mentioned Doc when talking about the website. Doc was mentioned of as some sort of "oracle" was how Merry thought about it.

   "Doc? Can I ask you something?"

   "Sure, Merry."

   "What's your… uhm… doctorate… in again? I apologize…"

   "Chemical engineering."

   "Were you told that the property owner of the range property back there… was a chemist too?"

   Doc was taken aback…

   "Like… a real chemist?"

   "What's a fake chemist."

   "Not… worked in a lab… actually worked as a professional chemist, I mean."

   "Yeah. George. If he wasn't on his own case? He would be here and you could… have a… chemistry fest with him, right?"

   Doc smiled…

   "We will either get along very well, or, not at all. Don't ask me why most other chemists I ever met were like that, though."

   "I met him. Hard to find a more polite or quiet man. He's a wife and kids only boy scout. Civil war re enactor with the family…"

   Doc went half nuts… he was a civil war fanatic of his own.

   "Like I said… you'll love George when you meet him one day. I'm just sure of it. So Doc… you want diner? Pizza shop? or… We always hit the secondhand shop. Doc nodded enthusiastically for the secondhand shop. And the hardware store, he wanted to know where all the above was. Apparently online at the website? It was now a thing to own a cheap single mattress from the secondhand store's now infamous stack of the things. And to put it on a two by four bunk in the bunkhouse.

   Apparently if you built the bunk beds, and plopped a cheap single mattress on each one? You got to make your own plaque and decorations over the entire thing. This was a status symbol amongst the website reloaders.

   "Doc? What would I buy, if I wanted to make a two by four bunk bed, a rough one, except for California king size? To surprise Panic as a gift with… a box of screws, I figure. How many two by fours and sheets of wood do I need?"

   "Oh… a big box of screws… I'd get, like, a dozen sheets of at least 1/2" OSB. A nice pile of 8 foot two by fours… you can never have too many sheets of OSB or two by fours, in this situation. A pile of little metal corner brackets would make it stronger and firmer. Me? I'd then screw in hardware to the bunk beds… build a desk, even a his and hers long desk onto it. Or, whatever your imagination comes up with."

   "Hardware? Like… the bed's built better, right?"

   "Yeah, but… you can now put a tiny nook, shelf, eyehook, whatever… anywhere you want. You can have a ship at sea motif? And hang a lantern from a post. A circular mirror for the porthole window. Whatever you want."

   "Sounds fun…"

   Merry dutifully showed Doc the hardware and second hand stores, among others, before returning back. Rob was sitting alone at the now only smoking morning fire, when they got back. Merry's first topic of conversation was Panic and his well being. Little Robbie smiled, and said that Panic was "wiped out" but otherwise "tired but normal". Merry was ecstatic.

   Panic was eyes half closed, but awake when Doc and Merry went into the cabin to see him. His bad illness had broke, like water on a pregnant woman. Pressure gone, instant relief.

   "Hi, honey. You're back!"

   Panic smiled and nodded.

   Panic smirked…

   "Rob tells me I was trying to speak my half dozen words of fuck-sticks language, when I was all fevered up? That's funny."

   Doc politely excused himself temporarily…

   "Panic? I'm gonna go do… a fire and maybe play with knife stuff for a little bit. You and your girl can talk if you want. When you're done? I'm next I guess."

   "Well Merry… we're alone."

   "I figured out a nice present, I thought…"

   "What, dear?"

   "I buy the screws, pile of 2x4's and corner brackets, and a pile of OSB sheets, 1/2". I want our own "bunk bed", with extra shelves and nooks and shit."

   "Ooh. Budget?"

   "Well, I could spend a couple hundred easy, on introductory, used, basically junk, furniture. How much 2x4's and wood sheets does a couple hundred buy?"

   "Anything you want, in those terms."

   "Great. I hate to pester you about bullshit when you're so recently… back…"

   "But what?"

   "I'm sorry about the long several days interviews with both IA guys. Uncle Mike has his witness 'in custody' so I go when he goes… no one can threaten me with a cage even rhetorically. And? Uncle Mike wants to meet with you."

   "Okay…"

   "And? I arranged for something, and I hope you're not mad…"

   "What, dare I ask…"

   "Well… Uncle Mike oversees long term investigations. Among other things. Internally? The in title is he's a stagecoach driver. I asked him if he could 'swap' oversight of your case, not even knowing what it is, myself…"

   "Why would I want that?"

   "Because… if you suspect your senior agent is grinding his wheels for one year, to up the ante, then closing in slowly the following year, with more murder arrests at once? Uncle Mike could potentially want… let's say consulted in private… then he could restructure the case if he wanted to. Your own Senior Agent? Seems to have an assistant director eating out of the palm of his hand."

   That oversight could be traded and managed off of the original caregiver, and the duty assigned to anyone else. Panic hadn't known that trading cases like baseball cards was a normal FBI activity. The rank and file weren't always aware when case oversight changed hands… it simply didn't matter who issued the emailed commands in many cases.

   "If this could be talked about with Speedy present? That would be so much of a better idea. Do you understand, or, approve of that conversation? He's my expert, you know."

   "No… I was hoping for a bigger… pow wow…"

   "Bigger pow wow… how?"

   "Try to get… everybody out here at once. For you, and your case?"

   "Ooh."

   "Yeah… ooh. Plus? Uncle Mike wants to talk to you. Now… mommy is going to draw you a picture okay?"

   "Sure."

   Merry produced a thin file folder. She then proceeded to talk about the weather, in a weird way. But, she winked at Panic to play along. So, he did.

   "Panic… tell me about why some clouds, have the names they do? If you know any trivia like that."

   Merry spoke about wanting to know cloud names? But instead she opened the file, and let Panic see it. It was some partially blacked out copy of one of her cases… whatever the fuck it was. With redactions. Portions, anyways. Then Panic saw it… a supposed list of the Dirty DC crew before the press had nicknamed them that… picked out for both habits to hang together, along with what was called "financial irregularities".

   Check marks had been somewhat ominously checked off of the heavily redacted list of crew names now… officially Merrycided. Or checked off in another color for being picked up in the long sweep. One straggler that should have been up at the bar at zero dark thirty? Had, it appeared, been home sick with a bad bug. His lack of a checkmark? Had been circled…

   "No, see… you start with Nimbus.. that's a base cloud style…"

   Merry made a "shhh" motion with her finger. Pointed at the circled straggler… pulled another small pile of stapled file out… it was him. Handed it over for a look.

   "Then… cumulonimbus… then of course there's stratocumulonimbus. That might even be one of those big… anvil shaped small storm cell clouds."

   "Eh. Really?"

   Panic saw she was talking about the weather. Officially. If on a wire, the true nature of their conversation didn't exist either. Merry had been taught to make the conversation polite. Uncle Mike was supposedly former military intelligence. It made sense.

   The straggler, was one of the portion that their presence on the hit damned them, and this one was just sick for the day… but, it was saving him legally.

   "It has something to do with the dew point…"

   He noticed there was an extra file in duplicate. Merry handed it to him, and made the shh/shush motion. She wrote on a piece of paper…

   "We will never talk about this out loud. Understood?"

   He wrote back…

   "I'm okay with that."

   "Well, yeah… see the dew point is the temperature differential. Anytime the temperature drops below the dew point? It rains. It's automatic."

   "Okay, thanks. I'll never truly understand weather, but, it's fun to learn a few new words of weather names. Thanks."

   "No problem. Is… your big bunk bed. Is it going to be… made with RR in mind?"

   Merry smiled mischievously…

   "Of course. Duh."

   "Fine. I get to regain the power of walking first, though… and, that weather talk?"

   "Yeah."

   "It's… going to cost you."

   "What will it cost me?"

   "More than one bag of… name brand, large size tater tots. Plus? The willpower to feed them to me."

   Merry smiled.

   "Done."

   "When will Uncle Mike get here?"

   "Well… he might get oversight of the case? Just by expressing interest in it. Uncle Mike's assistant director? Is a higher-up assistant director than your own senior agent's pet assistant director. There's a bunch of them, and there's a hierarchy. Now, if Mike non-chalantly get's plopped temporary oversight of the case from his assistant director? He could on the spot, decide to… well, whatever. Anyways… the point is, that anytime a new oversight changes hands? Guys like the Senior Agent seek to spend time with the new honcho. If that was Uncle Mike… Speedy, George, JG? Everybody would want to socialize."

   "It would be the best time to… gamma hit the senior, just in case I ended up needing it later on. Hate to need it, and not have it. Having it and ending up not needing it, is a safer option. And? I haven't seen Speedy in forever. He's like the architect of the whole case, really. Speedy… knows enough to maybe want something important? That wouldn't even occur to me to ask for."

   "Well. That's a little ways off. Closer to now? How are you feeling. You look like every five minutes, you're getting better and better."

   "I am. Got any more electrolyte solution?"

   Merry handed him a plastic bottle of electrolytes, and a can of protein shake. He chugged first the electrolyte, then the shake.

   "Can you walk?"

   "I think so. Some, anyways. Think you could help me walk down to the main camp?"

   "Okay…"

   Merry got his right arm around her shoulders for support. She grabbed his right wrist for extra support if he flagged onto her. She got him down to the campfire, and into someone else's bigger more expensive camping chair. With back and head support, and wider arm supports… Panic could relax more. He called Speedy.

   "Hey. How you doing?"

   "All right. Coming off of being sick. Let me guess… you're still stalled?"

   "You already know the drill. Now? I got other rumors…"

   "Rumors, about… someone else taking over being in charge of the case?"

   "How would you know about any of that?"

   "Technically? I don't. Unofficially? I do…"

   "Holy shit. This have anything to do with those IA guys that owe you a favor?"

   "Yes and no. This is something else, though. Listen… am I in a position to make a suggestion?"

   "Sure."

   "The guy that takes over the case? I was thinking… Senior Agent, JG, you, George… could all come out here for a little vacation pow wow. What do you think?"

   "You want this arranged…"

   "The new head guy? Will suggest it. You? Just pick here for the redezvous. He will enthusiastically endorse the idea, which guarantees it happens."

   "Hmm. You found a way to put all the players in one room, like I did to get the case moving…"

   "Yep. With more. Figure out your wish list on what you wish we could be doing next. Be specific, be detailed. You are going to secretly present that wish list? To the new head guy. He will issue your orders, to and through Senior Agent. The case will from then on out? Run exactly the way you think it should be run."

   "Unofficially."

   "It will unofficially be you in charge, in secret. Officially, though… the case will get moving."

   "After all this screwing around, we finally get to do whatever we want, and, I get a little vacation on top of it? To enjoy watching it go down."

   "Pretty much."

   "Okay. This? I gotta see. By the way… how's Merry?"

   "You heard…"

   "Yeah, I heard. What the hell?"

   "It's all over. Merry might have had shooting lessons, before it went down…"

   "She had more than shooting lessons, I'd wager…"

   "We don't talk like that. We have official findings, with the state police homicide unit. The FBI, everything."

   "Whatever then. I wasn't there. I wouldn't know."

   "There you go, Speedy. That's the spirit. That's what I do… I just roll with the punches. Just hold your cool, and sit and watch. We're about to come out on top of all this bullshit. Soon."

   "All right. I'll call you when I'm closer to leaving."

   "Good."

   Panic happened to look at his phone. He vaguely remembered several days ago, when he had made a funny picture of the camera peeking over the cats nuts. Hadn't Merry said something about needing better porn? He found it.

   "Merry?"

   He showed her. Merry smiled.

   "That? Is how I knew you were sick, or, something was wrong. I was kinda expecting some response out of you."

   One was a short video clip of Merry in the shower. She had one leg up on the tub edge. She was shaving her legs. A couple different camera viewpoints. One was a close up of her shaving her ankle. She had to first shave under the leather anklet and gold chain, then the rest of the leg up. The last was a short video clip of Merry shaving around "Hotler" and trimming him when she was done. Then another was her getting out the shower, dripping wet. Before wrapping a big towel around her? She smiled, shook her head and whole body like a dog, then stuck her tongue out at the camera.

   "I was trying to be… personal, but, not too slutty… I didn't know what you'd want. I know the kids email pics and videos to each other, and they brag about it… so…"

   "No, I could definitely see you knew I was incapacitated. I guess your phone is waterproof?"

   "Yeah. Work perk. We get top of the line andriod phones, just last year's model. Me and Mike get burner phones, and, we make sure we get nice ones. You can really get sick of 20 dollar burner phones, you know."

   "Question?"

   "Shoot…"

   "What am I supposed to do with the sexy videos?"

   "What do you do with any porn."

   "I watch it."

   "Right… and?"

   "And what?"

   "Don't you… beat off to porn?"

   "Not really."

   "Well… this is supposed to be… different."

   "So, you want me to beat off to your videos…"

   "You… don't have to. If I should be… I don't know… juggling or something, in the videos? You'd tell me, right?"

   "Well. How does everyone else do it, then? I wanna beat off correctly, you know…"

   "Geez. You make it sound like it's a homework assignment. If you're curious? Right now, the thing is… you get cute videos to look at, and, most people seem to be using an article of the girl's clothing. Underwear, socks, T shirt… you name it."

   "Well, if everyone is doing it, I might as well. Am I supposed to be making a video? Of me… soiling your clothes…"

   "I don't think so, but, do what you wanna do."

   "Am I supposed to… save the dirty clothes? Mail them to you? What?"

   "Honey? The idea here, is that your woman is trying to take a little bit of care of you, while she's gone. If your… urge… builds up while your girl is gone? Instead of going down to the diner, and, say… staring at one of the waitresses. You… watch a little video… dirty my used Tshirt up, or whatever. Why? What would your plan be…"

   "Oh. I'd probably want a… late night phone call…"

   "Ah… gotcha. The kids call that a… naughty bedtime story. You… probably want me to tell you how… rough you're gonna get it, when I get home, huh?"

   Panic smiled and nodded.

   "There, see. You want what everyone else wants, you just want a naughty bedtime story to go with it. That's fine."

   "Am I supposed to brag?"

   "Always. The women all make the guy swear he's not showing the pictures off to his friends, and pretty much all the guys show each other the pictures, to brag. Now… look me in my eyes, mister…"

   "Good. You can brag. I expect you to. No copying the pictures and videos? No internet. Understood?"

   He nodded.

   "You better understand that. Now, If I'm gone a couple weeks? I get to come home and see how bad you missed me, based on the condition of my used T shirt, hmm?"

   He shrugged.

   "One girl on the internet? Turned off the lights, and shined an ultraviolet flashlight on the T shirt… it lit up like a Christmas tree…"

   "All this dirty talk… and I'm too weak to do anything about it. It's not fair."

   "Lunch is almost done, honey. We get some food in you? You'll be fine. Let's get you up for a short walk… we smoke you out for lunch, we'll get more food in you, I figure."