Political Awareness
a/n Am currently reading the book Eliot refers to. It's pretty interesting.
"Hey, Eliot?"
The hitter held an ice pack to his bruised cheek. "What, Parker?"
"What's a "daily llama"?"
Eliot turned all the way around on the coach to face the puzzled looking thief. "Huh?"
She flounced over to drop onto the floor by Eliot's feet. "I already asked Nate and Hardison."
"And what'd they say?"
A shrug. "Nate just poured himself another drink, and Hardison showed me something called The Llama Song. But neither of them answered my question. And I don't wanna ask Tara. I don't like her right now."
"Oh...kay," Eliot muttered in confusion. "Where'd you hear about this "daily llama" thing?"
"Someone at the convention we went to today was talking about how the "daily llama" ran away from Tibet."
Eliot finally understood. "Parker, they weren't talking about a "daily llama". They were talking about the Dalai Lama."
"The who?"
The hitter considered explaining, then finally shook his head. "Look, sweetheart, I got a biography you can read, or you can video conference Soph, and she can explain. But it's kinda… complicated."
"Oh." Parker stared at nothing for a few moments, and then jumped to her feet, smiling. "I'll call Sophie!"
As she skipped away, a thought struck Eliot. He was pretty sure that Parker had stolen the rosary the 13th Dalai Lama had possessed, and that the 14th Dalai Lama had been identified with.
So the question was, was Parker totally oblivious, or just looking for an excuse to call Sophie?
Eliot shook his head. Either way, it was pure Parker.
fin.