10:14
What did they say about hope? Besides it sprang eternal? Or from Dan’s knuckles? Something about it being, in reality, the worst of all evils? Because it prolongs the torments of man?
Thanks Neitzsche, Kim thought as she kicked the floor that was not cobbled stone with the tip of her toe. The quote was very apropos considering that the door which should have lead back into the hall – should have – opened instead to a large, very fancy room reminiscent of a soignee hotel with tea service.
The light was subdued but there. After the dark in the art museum gallery space Kim’s eyes had dilated so they stung like a mofo as they adjusted to the new lighting. She squinted and turned her chin down, scrunching her eyelids shut and waiting for the burning to stop. Only after that did she crack her eyelids to assess if her eyes had adjusted enough. When nothing stung and no tears formed, she opened her eyes fully and looked around, reading the edges of the room for any threats before shifting her attention to the remainder of the space.
The walls had dark wainscotting capped with chair rails, above which the walls were broken out into panels separated by similar dark wood frames. The inside of some of the panels were papered or painted in a very soft minty green while others held large, multi-paned windows letting in soft light. The ceiling, high enough Kim had to crane her neck to see it well, was equally paneled though the wood separating the sections was light where the walls were dark. Chandeliers hung at intervals along the ceiling, dripping crystals which cast rainbows on the floor’s light green and cream carpet with fern accents.
Two dozen or so feet from the door was nothing but carpet. Beyond that small square tables stood on spindly legs that barely made a dent in the thick carpet. Each had two chairs, equally as delicate looking, pulled up to it. The tables were considerably bigger than the chairs pulled up to them, the better to hold the multiple tiered serving sets sat under domes at each table.
Patti smacked into Kim’s back as she entered the room. “Sorry.” She looked around Kim, taking in the elegant looking setup of the room. Rubbing the side of her nose she grinned at Kim. “Oh, very scary tea tables.”
Kim stepped aside so she wasn’t blocking the door. “That’s what they are?”
“Uh huh. See the too precious pastry tiers? And the super fancy tea pots? And the frou frou plate sets?”
Gwen sidled up to lean an arm on Patti’s shoulder. “How about the girly hats hanging on the back of the chairs?”
“Oh.” Kim focused on the details Patti and Gwen pointed out. “What test do you think this is?”
Ben wandered over to join the line Patti, Kim, and Gwen formed, lining up his toes along the line in the carpet the others had inadvertently queued up to. He dug his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his toes as he swept his gaze over the room. “Musical chairs?”
“We could only be so lucky.” Dempsey stepped up next to Ben and hiked his shield. “No threat?”
“Unless you are diabetic?” Gwen quipped. “No.”
“Maybe this is a clue?” Siobhan asked from behind them. Kim and Patti turned to look where Siobhan stood next to a placard on a fancy easel just inside the door.
“What is it?” Patti craned her neck to try to see what Siobhan was looking at on the sign.
“Welcome, Ladies.” Siobhan read. “Tea will be served at four. Service will consist of a petite salad, egg and cress sandwiches, cucumber sandwiches, savory muffins, rhubarb and custard scones, walnut scones, blackcurrant jam, rhubarb and ginger jam, cherry jam,” she paused to breathe, then continued, “Earl Grey teacakes, lavender shortbread, star anise meringues with raspberry coulis.”
“What’s coulis?” Patti interrupted. She pronounced it Coo-Lee, emphasis on the ‘Lee’.
“I’ve got this,” Kim said, “somewhere between a thin jam and a thick fruit sauce. Usually light sugar. It’s good.”
Siobhan eyed them over the bridge of her nose. “Can I continue?”
“Is there that much more?” Ivan walked over and looked over Siobhan’s shoulder.
“Yes.”
Ben wandered over with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. “Keep going.”
Siobhan barely got out “Raspberry religieuse,” before Patti was interrupting again. “What’s rel—Uh, that?”
Lofting her brows, Siobhan looked at Kim who answered, “It’s a choux bun filled with cream and it sounds like in this case raspberries.”
“What’s a choux bun?”
“Really? You work in a food serving establishment.”
“We serve steak pie, fish and chips, and bangers and mash. Very pub food. This stuff is way fancier than anything Marcus makes.”
“Ever had an éclair?”
“Yes.”
“That’s choux dough. A choux bun is a big one, about this big,” Kim held her hands together with tennis ball size space between. Choux buns are usually filled with pastry cream. And other stuff.”
“What’s the difference between that and an éclair?”
Kim shrugged. “Shape? That’s all I got. I’m not a pastry chef just a pastry friendly tummy person.”
Ben rubbed his stomach. “I think I could be too. Keep going Siobhan. There’s more, right?”
“There is,” Siobhan looked back at the placard. “Salted caramel choux buns,” she slanted a look at Patti who made like she was buttoning her lip, “crème brulee tartlets.”
Patti’s button clearly did not hold. She peered over Siobhan’s shoulder and read out, “Cream Brew Lee. What’s Cream Brew Lee?”
Ivan raised a finger. “May I?”
“Sure.”
Ivan looked down at Patti. “Crème Brulee,” he pronounced it correctly, Crehm Brew-lay, “is basically a Pot de Crème with a thin caramelized sugar top.”
“Poh Da Crehm?” Patti quirked a grin, “Sounds like a rapper.”
“Ha ha.” Ivan quirked his brows and crossed his arms. “Are you interested in this answer?”
“More interested in how you know what crème brulee is. You strike me more of a pub food guy.”
“Because I’m big?”
“Because you hang out with this guy,” Patti jerked a thumb at Ben.
Ivan shrugged. “Valid. But as a local politician I get taken out by a lot of people and sometimes take people out to fancy restaurants where they serve the kind of food that seems to be at this party.” He waved his hand towards the room at large.
Patti eyed the delicate tables and chairs then eyed Ivan’s large frame. Then shifted back to looking at the chairs again with an assessing look.
“The places I go have sturdier furniture. This party definitely is targeted at people with more delicate frames.”
“Like dolls,” Kim muttered.
Gwen, standing next to Kim, nodded in agreement. “Dolls. And little dogs.” She sloped a mischievous look at Ivan. “Little farty dogs.”
Siobhan sighed and shook her head. “Can I continue?”
“There’s more?” Dempsey wandered over, probably tired of holding the line against the immense threat of tiny chairs and pastries.
“Yes.” Siobhan looked around the group, reading expressions for more interruptions and promising retribution should that occur with a narrow-eyed look.
Again Patti made the motion of buttoning her lip. Gwen dragged her hand over the line of her lips in a “zipping it” motion. And Ben just dug his hands deeper into his pockets and grinned.
“If you have questions about anything else on the list write it down. I’ll answer at the end.” Siobhan turned back to the sign. “Strawberry daiquiri and espresso martini petit four, ginger cookie sandwiches with lemon mascarpone, rose and pistachio window cake, dark chocolate blood orange madeleines, and crepes suzette.”
Dan walked over from where he’d been propping up the wall next to the door and started writing the menu down in a book. Siobhan stared at his scratching pencil. “Can I get a copy? I feel like this is important.”
“What’s a window cake?” Patti whispered to Kim, making a point of looking over at Siobhan and giving her a bright smile. Siobhan turned back to the placard and ran her fingers along the words. She asked Dan a low question about the possibility of a code in the words and Dan murmured something back while continuing to write out the selection.
Kim turned slightly to shoot Patti a look from the side of her eye. “I’m not sure. Never heard of one. Want to wander around the tables and see if we see something that looks like a window?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll come too,” Gwen offered from Patti’s other side.
Abe bounced on the balls of their feet and folded their hands in front of their cassock. “Me too?”
“Sure. Any chance you know what some of the things on the menu were? I’m guessing Patti is going to be along for moral support–”
“Thanks,” Patti muttered but she grinned in acknowledgement of Kim’s quip.
Dempsey leaned in over Siobhan and Dan, staring at the sign, then asked Dan for a piece of paper. Dan pulled a folded sheet out of the back of the book he was writing in and offered Dempsey a pencil. Dempsey declined the offer, pulling out a pen that appeared to have multiple nibs.
“Actually if you can give me a few pieces of loose paper I can make a few copies.”
Ben eyed the contraption in Dempsey’s hand, a look of cunning in his eyes.
“Yes,” Dempsey said before Ben could ask, “It’s Magick. Makes multiple copies of documents.”
“Handy.”
“Very.”
Dempsey turned to a small table next to the easel and began writing.
Prairie walked over to Kim with Kirby next to her. There was a real air of “bull in a china shop” waiting to happen hanging around the large dog. Prairie looked down at him then patted each of the three heads and whispered in the central head’s ear, “This might not be the best place for you.”
The right most head leaned over, looked Prairie in the eyes, and nodded its head so hard it almost clipped her on the bridge of her nose. She giggled and pulled back slightly to not suffer major trauma and patted that head again.
“No, Hello. Dogs do not like cake. And cookies. And buns. And…” she paused and tipped her head, “cumber sammiches. They will not settle well on your tummy.”
The right head got a decidedly downtrodden look. Poor puppy look. Give the puppy a cumber sammich look. Kim wasn’t sure how Prairie resisted the cute.
Prairie straightened and patted her side. Kirby nodded all three heads, the center one solemn while the right one was goofy and the left one threatened to lose a ear from the vigorous way it shook. Then the dog dissolved into a mist that wended under Prairie’s shirt. Prairie smoothed her hand over her ribs then looked at Kim.
“I’d like to help.”
“The more the merrier. You know anything about fancy desserts?”
“A little.”
“Great.” Kim ran her gaze over the friends loosely gathered around her. “Divide and conquer?”
“What are we looking for?” Ivan asked
“Anything suspicious.”
“So, assassins in the salad. Got it.”
“And if you see a cake that looks like a window, or a pastry or a cookie because who knows what qualifies as a cake, let me know? I’m curious.”
That said the group dispersed to wander between the tables and chairs. Kim figured there were at least fifteen. Tables. Not friends. Fifteen people on an adventure would just be stupid. That wasn’t a party, that was a riot!
Because ten was so manageable, she thought with a snort. Moving on.
There were three tables across each row, separated enough for privacy if it was wanted but close enough a lady could lean across the aisle and speak with someone at the adjoining table. And there seemed to be five rows. So, yeah, fifteen.
Gwen walked next to Kim, peering intently at the table in front of them. “Huh.”
“Huh, what?”
“Maybe different tables have different things?”
“Why?”
“No cucumber sandwiches. I may not know what all the fancy was but I know cucumber sandwiches and there are none on this table.”
“Huh.” Kim catalogued the food items on the table. There was a fancy hunter green ceramic tea pot with two matching cups and saucers next to it. Two place settings were set in front of each chair with three plates of various circumferences stacked on top of each other. The plates were all the same dark green of the teapot, with gold flowers on them that looked like they were hand-painted. Very fancy.
Next to each of the place settings was another small plate with a salad on it. A petite salad, Kim corrected, recalling the wording of the sign.
The table was big enough it easily held three clear domed tiered trays with three tiers each. Each of the tiers held tea offerings. Kim could see buns with shiny tops speckled with fruit that she was pretty sure were the Earl Grey teacakes. They sat next to neat rectangles of shortbread. Next to these were the classic triangular shapes of scones.
“Hey, Kim?” Patti called from two rows forward. She was waving a fan-shaped cookie between her thumb and forefinger. “What’s this?”
Kim called up a small wind and sent it wending to Patti. It curled around Patti’s hand and Kim used its senses to get details of the delicacy. One side was bare and largely flat. The Other side had even indentations in it, reminiscent of the sticks of a fan. One end was flat, the other curved. The end that was curved had a glaze of dark chocolate with an orange powder sunk into it.
Running quickly through the menu she could recall she tried to place the cookie. Because for sure it was a cookie. A madeleine. She was pretty sure of that.
“It’s a madeleine.”
“Is it good?”
“Are you suggesting that you are going to eat it?”
“I’m hungry.”
“Do not eat the potentially poisoned baked good. In fact, put it back exactly where you found it and try not to leave your fingerprints in it.”
“Poisoned?” Ben’s voice rose a bit at the end of the word. Kim sighed and turned to where he stood next to the table two over from the one Gwen and she were at. Something dropped from his hand to the tiered tray exposed to the air by the removal of the dome held in his other hand.
“Did you take a bite?”
“What kind of idiot do you think I am?”
Kim gave him a look and he grinned.
“No. I didn’t.”
“Don’t make me come over there!” Siobhan called from her spot next to Ben and Dempsey.
“Okay, Mom!” Patti called back. Prairie giggled and leaned over to peer into the top of one of the domes on the table she and Patti were standing at. Patti picked up something else from the tray she’d moved the dome from. She waved something darkish and cookieish at Kim. “Is this the lemon mascarpone sandwich things?”
“Seriously,” Kim heaved a sigh. “What part of don’t touch is a struggle?”
“The part where you said not to eat,” Patti emphasized the word, “the food. You didn’t say anything about touching.”
“I told Ben to put the baked good back and to not leave fingerprints.”
“You told Ben,” again with the emphasis, “to put it back.”
“She has a point,” Gwen said.
Kim turned and gave Gwen a narrow-eyed look. “Hush, you.”
Gwen did the zippy-zip across her mouth again. Kim rolled her eyes hard enough they hurt then focused on the table and the offerings on it. She frowned. “You are right.”
“I often am.”
Kim snorted and shook her head.
“In this case about no cucumber sandwiches. I see petit fours,” she pointed at the second domed tray with her pinky finger, “and one, two, three kinds of jam,” these were in neat little jars with bows and little labels nestled in the juncture of the three domed tiers. Walnut scones,” she pointed back at the triangles, “and I think those are rhubard custard ones next to them.” This time she pointed to small rounds of what looked like biscuits, sliced across with something creamy with red fibrous strands speckling it seeping out of them.
“Yeah,” Gwen peered at the third dome. There’s sandwiches in here but they definitely look like egg salad. I’m guessing that’s the egg and cress. But no cucumber. And the things down on the bottom I think are the meringues, right?”
Kim leaned in to look at the bottom row of Gwen’s dome. There was a white cloudy, well cloud, in a swirl there. The white was dotted with small brown dots and swirls and there were fresh raspberries on the top of it with a red sauce oozing from beneath them.
“Definitely looks like a meringue with raspberry sauce.”
“And there’s these eggy things on the middle tier that might be a savory muffins?”
Kim shifted her attention up one row in the dome. Something yellow with what looked like veggies nestled in paper muffin cups. “I’d say that works. So that’s the savory muffins down. Do you notice anything besides the cucumber sandwiches missing?”
Even as she asked this Kim tilted her head left and right, cataloguing more of the tea offerings. She counted two colors of petit fours on the second row of the dome closest to her and some really gorgeous choux buns with craquelin next to them.
The ginger cookies sandwiched around a creamy filling like the one Patti waved at her before were on the bottom row of the far dome and next to them was a tower of choux sliced into four with cream and fruit between the bottom two a splodge of pink and runny topped with piped cream points between layer two and three, and another layer of cream and fruit between the third layer and the top cap which had more pink running off it with a raspberry in the pool.
That had to be the raspberry religieuse. It definitely made Kim think some uplifted thoughts looking at it. Yum. Next to this beauty was a sliced cake with alternating squares of pink and green.
“Think that’s the rose and pistachio window cake?” she asked Gwen.
Gwen leaned over and stared into the dome. “Maybe? The squares might be windows?”
“It’s the right color.”
“It is.” Kim shifted her attention back over the domes and the jars and the tea pot and the cups and saucers and plates and silverware folded in thick linen napkins. “Where’s the crepes?”
“They’re–” Gwen trailed off then craned to look over the entire table too. “Yeah. Uhm. No crepes. No cucumbers. Maybe the party arranger doesn’t like the letter C?”
“Then why put it on the menu?” Kim pulled a stiff piece of paper from under the closest stack of plates. It was a copy of the menu on the sign, written in a feminine script, green ink on cream paper complimenting the color scheme of the room.
“They didn’t have to make copies!” Gwen said, then turned to holler across the room, “Hey, Dempsey you can–”
Kim shook her head and tapped hard on the table. Gwen looked down at the tap then back up at Kim with a quizzical look.
“I don’t think moving things from the table willy-nilly is a good idea. It could be part of the test.”
“Oh.” Gwen turned and hollered again. “You can totally keep copying that menu!”
“Great.” Dempsey’s tone was droll. “And there I was stopping.” He shook his head and turned back to his task.
“See,” Kim tapped the menu where Cucumber Sandwiches was written then ran her finger down to the listing for Crepes Suzette. “On here too.” She turned to look at the others slowly moving through the tables. “Did anyone notice anything missing on their tables?”
“I can’t remember the menu?” Patti’s voice rose, making the statement a question.
Abe called over from the table they were looking at with Ivan one row up from Kim and Gwen and over to the left in front of a window. A ray of diffuse sunlight drifted over the table, spotlighting the three domes on it. “I think one of the sandwiches is missing? There’s only one kind.”
Something about the acoustics of the room made it easy to hear each other despite there being distance between them. Which was weird considering the plush carpet and all the wood probably should have absorbed sound. Kim was pretty sure that was the point of the lush materials. To be safe she called to several wind ladies and asked them if they could move between the tables and carry sound. They indicated their joy at doing the simple task with smiles and soft touches in Kim’s head.
It never ceased to amaze Kim how creatures of literally limitless lives who had seen the creation of the world, or yeah reflecting on Rapunzel’s revelation probably had? Nah, the elements were an intrinsic part of the world, whether created by a big release of Magick or in some other manner, the elements had been around as long as the world was.
You’d think elementals would have more weighty things to do than amplify Kim’s friends’ voices but what did she know. She didn’t even know why the complicated, Magickal creatures wanted to hang around her. But they did and she was immensely grateful, whether it was to call on them to decimate her enemies or light a candle or carry peoples’ words around a fancy dining room.
One of the ladies settled behind Ivan, drifting at shoulder height, and rested her chin on his shoulder. He’s dreamy, she whispered in Kim’s ear.
Kim lifted a finger to her lips but waggled her brows.
Ivan frowned at Kim’s brow waggle then quirked a grin and looked down at Abe. His voice was as clear as if he was right next to Kim, amplified by the wind maiden. “You noticed that?”
“I notice a lot of things.”
“Notice anything else?”
“Remind me what the menu is?” Abe called back to Kim who was apparently the keeper of said menu. No big.
“There’s a copy under each plate.”
“Oh. Okay. Let me just,” Abe looked up at Ivan. “Ivan can you read this and I’ll check each item off?”
Kim’s heart started in her chest. She called across the space. “Don’t remove it from the table.”
Ivan hovered with the menu mostly pulled out from under the plate. “Because?”
“It might be part of the test? I don’t know. Guessing here.”
Ivan gave a big shrug and just tugged the menu he had until it cleared the plate enough he could read from it. He started to talk then stopped and ran a tongue over his mouth only to grimace. “Hold on.”
He wiped his hand over his mouth and drew back paint.
Abe looked at Ivan’s hand, then gave his face, jacket and hand a once over. “The paint didn’t disappear?”
“The paint didn’t disappear.”
Ivan stooped and grabbed the bottom of the tablecloth. The wind maiden trailed along with him, dodging gracefully as he dragged the edge of the tablecloth up to scrub at his face and goatee.
“Eep!” Kim’s heart jumped and she inadvertently reached toward the table. “Don’t remove it from the table!”
Patti craned her head to look at where Ivan crouched, wiping his neck down. “He didn’t remove it from the table.”
Ben strolled passed the table and looked down at Ivan. “Can’t fault that logic.”
Abe dropped a hand on the table, holding the tablecloth in place so it didn’t yank all the stuff off the table. Pulling back the collar of his jacket, Ivan glared down at the dried paint on it then carefully pulled his shirt away from where it adhered to his chest.
“My favorite shirt.”
“It could still be your favorite shirt,” Abe offered with a bounce and head bob, “It would just be your favorite shirt with paint on it.”
“Maybe the paint will go away when we leave The House.”
“Maybe.” Ivan grimaced then started reading quietly to Abe from the menu. Abe peered into each dome, calling out what items were on the table that matched the menu.
At the table Patti and Prairie were at Prairie pulled a menu out from beneath a plate, leaving a small portion of it in contact with the table. “I’ll read ours if you’ll look?”
Patti peered into a dome. “I’m good as long as you can figure out what some of these things are based on a description?”
“I can.”
“Okay.” Prairie started reading in her soft voice and Patti got to looking at the items on the table. Every second or third item she’d ask Prairie if ‘this was it?’ or ‘does it have orange stuff on it?’.
When Ivan and Abe finished their list Abe looked over at Kim. “No cucumber sandwiches. And we’re pretty sure no Crepes Suzette. What do those look like?”
“Crepes? Like the ones Gwen and I made at my place.”
Ivan gave her a look that questioned her intelligence. “We know what crepes look like. But are Crepes Suzette something special?”
“In they have a fancy sauce, yes. In they are crepes, nah.”
“There’s no crepes in fancy sauce on this table.”
“Here neither,” Prairie said, her soft words carried by the air lady sitting delicately on the edge of the table next to her with her palm pressed to Prairie’s cheek.
A small smile quirked the corner of Kim’s mouth as she looked at the lady. They were such curious creatures. And tactile. And forever in love with pretty things like Prairie. Prairie gave no indication she could feel the touch although she did give a delicate shiver suggesting she felt the chill.
The lady leaned in and blew a puff of air over Prairie’s face, ruffling the soft halo of hair escaping Prairie’s ponytail. Prairie raised a hand and brushed the hair back then looked at the ceiling, as if for hidden fans. The lady hid her hand behind her mouth to cover her little giggle.
This time Prairie looked back at Kim. “Are you messing with me?”
“Messing?” Kim tried for an innocent expression. Prairie’s dubious look told her she didn’t really succeed at it.
Kim tilted her head at the air lady who was now leaning back, leaning on her palms. As she was incorporeal she didn’t disturb anything on the table. Which was good as one of her hands was firmly ensconced in one of the domes. Kim could taste the raspberry religeuse through the air lady’s senses. And it was delicious.
The lady raised thin shoulders and met Kim’s gaze, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Which, ya know, it wouldn’t. Because she didn’t so much have a mouth more than because she was so very innocent, despite the expression the lady molded her features into.
Prairie crinkled her nose and turned back to Patti. “Do you see crepes or cucumber sandwiches?”
Lifting a hand Patti used her pointer finger to count each of the items in each of the domes before turning and shaking her head. “No.”
Dempsey must have finished copying the menu from the placard because he, Siobhan, and Dan walked over to Kim and Gwen’s table. Dempsey had some papers in his hand and Dan was finished a note in his book.
Kim gave up her visual admonishment of the lady because really there was no changing the wind and turned to look at her approaching friends.
“Done?”
“Done.” Dempsey rustled the papers in his hands.
“So what’s up?”
Kim frowned then remembered she was the only one with a direct conduit to the chatter in the group.
She waved a hand at the tables. “They all have the same things on them and they are all missing two items. Cucumber sandwiches and Crepes Suzette.”
“Figure that’s the test?”
“I don’t know. Or mice came in and ate sammys and dessert.”
A squeak from Sass didn’t need translation but Kim decided to give it a try. I, a mouse, am truly offended for all my murine kin!
Patti sang a few notes down at the mouse who’d poked their head of the window of their house to turn and look at Kim. After giving Kim a lingering look that spoke volumes, Sass turned its head and sang back to Patti.
Patti chuckled. She pitched her voice to be heard down the rows. “Not Magick mice. Magick mice have too much class to eat other people’s food.”
Kim nodded to the mouse. “Noted.”
Sass squeaked a sharp squeak and waved its arm at Kim in a pointed manner. As in it pointed its arm and its tiny hand at Kim. It was too far away to be certain, and the air ladies made a point of steering clear of Sass which was interesting, but Kim was pretty sure the mouse was pointing its finger at her. It was just a read. Sass was very sassy.
“So if mice didn’t eat only the cucumber sandwiches and the crepes, and,” she added, “replace the domes over the trays, I’m going to say that seems like a significant detail.”
“Sound. Sight.” Dan looked up from his notes and pointed his pencil at the table. “Taste.”
Siobhan picked up his thought instantly. “The senses.”
“Yes.”
Dempsey nodded and looked up and down the rows of tables. “They are all missing the same things?”
Kim shook her head. “We only checked three tables.”
“We should check the rest. It might just be an anomaly.”
Dan closed his book around his pencil and walked over the table to the left in the first row. “Agreed.”
Flipping open his book he referenced what he’d written in there, counting off items on the table with a pointed finger then returning his attention to the book again and again. Dempsey walked over to the right and did the same on the table there. Substituting the papers in his hand with the book. Siobhan walked over and pulled one of the copies from Dempsey’s hand and moved up one row to check the table against the right wall there.
The right wall had no windows, just a long unbroken expanse of paneled and wainscotted walls. Kim didn’t feel compelled to repeat the ‘no touchy’ warning to any of the three more sensible, less spontaneous members of their group. If possible Siobhan, Dan, and Dempsey approached their task with more caution than might have been required. But better a surplus of caution than a shortage of it.
Kim looked at Gwen and indicated the table in the next row up from theirs with a jerk of her chin. They moved up to it and did their own inventory. Gwen shook her head when she came up short on cucumber sandwiches and crepes. Siobhan looked over from the right table and shook her head. Kim looked back at Dempsey and Dan. They also indicated no luck on their tables.
In this way the group catalogued every one of the fifteen tables in the room. Well, except for Ben. He just wandered along the aisles and the walls, hands in pocket and gaze flitting from place to place, never settling long on anything while giving the indication he took in everything.
“Wonder what this is?” Ben’s voice carried to Kim from the air lady attached to him. He was at the end of the room in the far right corner and there was no way she or anyone could have heard him without help. Even more so when he crawled up on something in the corner and he stuck his head into the wall.
Probably not in the wall. Probably into a hole in the wall. Kim wasn’t so good at seeing through the ladies’ eyes and the only impression she was getting from Ben’s lady was that he had stuck his head into the wall. Which for her would work so she probably didn’t apply any other logic to the phenomenon. Not like Kim was because either it was an illusion or there was a hole there. Either way she kinda wanted to see.
Without a comment she started off to the far corner. Gwen hurried her steps to keep up. “What’s up?”
“Ben’s head is in the wall.”
“What?”
Kim shrugged. “That’s all I got.”
Enter The Woods 