Chapter 4: The Package Arrives, Time To Check Out!
Part Two: Gneiss' Trip To Market, And Maternity No Fly Zone! (Day 2)
It was early morning, and Gneiss sat on a chair
near the guardrail of the penthouse and looked at
the mountains. She had forgot the salmon, but
Conkenu did not seem to mind being caught up
with Kita as they planned and rehearsed the way
they could have intercepted the baby carried by
a pelican. The tiled ashen rooftop of the
penthouse was darken brown from the
downpour, and the railing that Gneiss hung her
arms and head above dampened her long brown
hair that collapsed against it. "What's going to
happen today?"
Yesterday...
Gneiss cruised in her car, and looked for the
bridge that would get her to the otherside of the
river so she could go to the town market. The
town across the river from the hotel was much
larger than the other, as highlighted for the
purpose of Gneiss journey, it had a market that
the village where they stayed used, plus the
town had many other enticements with a movie
theater, a baseball stadium for a professional
team, and a two level mall. She caught the
bridge closest to the hotel and crossed over the
green and rusted lane that was two meters the
width of her car. She now was driving north up
the river, and she looked up at the town she was
staying. The travel time was close to an hour,
the time she said it would have taken her, but she
did not conceived of the bridge being as far
away and thought of it as she had when
processing to the hotel to check in at the front
desk. The car drove up against a sidewalk and
stopped. She carefully stepped out of the car
onto the sidewalk to avoid the puddle that
dwelled under the driver's side. Gneiss turned
back into the car to get her purse before
shutting the door. She seized the attention a man
with a black leather jacket propping a brick wall
with his hand and talking to four other males in
shabby clothes. The man, whose attention
located on Gneiss's struggle to keep her shoes
dry for anyone but Conkenu, approached her as
he removed his jacket presenting his white muscle
shirt. He placed the jacket on the puddle. "Here
you go madam. Call me Lars." He spoke up and
sent her a hand that she took and got out of the car.
Lars closed the car door with but a click made, and
Gneiss furnished curtsy and a relaxed smile. He
smiled backed and bent down to pick up his jacket
and returned with a short broad knife. "Now, give
me your money, babe."
She hopped back until she settled standing
straight up near the back bumper. She stared at
him with her eyebrows bunched and a slightly opened
mouth. "It's Gneiss!" She said in an irritated voice.
The group laughed. Lars took a step forward and
spread his hands.
"Sure, when we get the money." He responded,
and looked at his men who withdrew from their
lethargic stances to join the leader.
"G-n-e-i-s-s," she spelt out to end the confusion, "but
I would be surprise if any of you could spell correctly
what you thought I said."
With the knife in his right hand, Lars thrush at Gneiss
who threw her back against the trunk of the car and
reached over to the back door with her left hand. Lars
turned around with a meter and a half separating the
two fighters. She opened the door slightly, and
prepared as he ran at her again. With her body staying
in contact with the back door, she rolled against the car
and opened the door as the knife smashed through the
end of the window breaking the glass that flew pass
Gneiss. She got her back away from the front door and
slapped the back door on his elbow causing him to let
go of the knife. Her next move as she stood close to Lars
as he faced the car trying to open the door with his left
hand was crossing her right foot behind the left leg and
kicking him in the side of his right leg. He fell to his knees,
and she twisted around right on her left foot to raise the
other up to kick him in the head. That was the end of the
fight for Lars, but his company remained standing, with
not enough time to react to her defense, and they were
not going to take anything lightly. They lined up in
formation to confront the woman who paid more
attention to her long skirt that stained with blood and
she licked her hand to moisturize the small but
attractive blot. When she busied herself with cleaning,
the remaining four guys removed their grungy clothes
and started to expose their pristine black tuxedos, which
detained Gneiss's attention. Her skirt dropped down back
to her ankles. "Where did you get those suits?" Gneiss
interrogated the group of men mending their tuxedos as
dutiful as Gneiss once did with her dress not too long
ago. A man to the outside of the line jumped high into the
air into a crouched flip. She evaded with a two handed
back spring and watched as the man drop kicked the
cement cracking the sidewalk bringing up dust and bits
of stone covering his black dress shoes which anyone
could have missed in his previous attire. "Nice suits.
How did you afford them?" Gneiss asked to the guy
who got off the ground. Before the answer, she got
close enough to him to place her left foot behind his
right heel following up with a two handed push to make
him off balance. With his right leg off the ground, she
crouched down and sweep backwards with her right
foot and stretched to take the other leg from behind
him. As the man laid there, she hopped on to his
chest knocking the wind out of him. One man came
from behind her, and caught her off guard taking
advantage of the situation, he lifted her up and threw
her over her car. She smashed against a shaded
window of a tour bus shattering the glass. The bus
halted with shrieking tires. Gneiss twirled off the
window and landed on the ground down on a knee
and a foot. She looked up; the men jumped over
her car. The three formed a triangle with a single
man taking the lead. A swoosh came, and they
looked over to an average height man with black
hair and a good build come out of the bus with
his baseball uniform on belonging to the number
one team the Titans.
"It's the King Crimson." A tuxedo mentioned.
Though, it was just a nickname given to him by
the pitchers of the professional league suitable
for this homerun slugger. His real name was
Yamacha, and he had a double face about his
fans calling him a hero. He knew what a real
hero was, and he wanted to be a hero, even if
it was for a game. "So you think you are a
fighter? I have to warn you, because I am no
baseball player."
The challenger crossed his hands to press
down two buttons on his cuffs. The tuxedo
cleaned up, and his shoes dug a few
centimeters into the ground. Gneiss backed
to the bus followed by a narrow steady cracking
of the street. The man took a step forward and
slid on his right foot across the pavement raising
his left leg to kick. Yamcha vanished and
reappeared beside Gneiss taking her left hand
with his right to raise her head down over his
head and placing her feet first on the ground to
the left of him. Yamcha looked at the man who
thought he had made contact with the kick who
hadn't stopped yet and started to split the metal
of the side of the bus then out the other end.
The last unconscious trouble maker lounged
face down in the impact he had made in a car
on the other side of the bus. The condition of
bus was deemed unsafe to drive with two rows
on gone and connected only by the roof as
Yamacha looked through the bus towards the
end of the wreckage, to the man who gathered
much attention and fellow players who were in
the path getting up to check their injuries, which
were more shock than physical. Yamacha
walked inside the bus to the man who attacked
him. Before clearing the bus, the fallen baseball
players sat up and looked at Yamacha. "So you
do more than beat up the players?" One of them
said to him, as he did not turn his attention to
the comment that remarked on King Crimson's
latest fine putting him way under his original
highest paid player position. This did not bug
him as he looked over the lifeless man man. With
a current running across the tuxedo, the suit
dematerialized back into the watch. Yamacha
lifted up the limp arm, and removed the watch
into his pocket.
"Everyone, the game today is going to be
cancelled." The coach said with a grim face
as he told his players who had picked up their
fallen allies and formed a mass on the side
of the bus where Yamacha was.
Gneiss sat at a table in a small narrow
restaurant near the window on a small
table for two that overlooked the destruction
outside. A waitress wearing a downy white
apron with a canvas of spills and stains walked
from the other end to the only client in the room.
Gneiss or the waitress kept attention on each other
very long as the waitress place the coffee pot on
the table and joined her in watching the cops escorted
the Penguin Patrol (not the only animal
based gang) in the crowd into the squad cars.
"I hope the crowd doesn't come into this place."
The waitress remarked and walked away without
filling or taking the coffee pot with her.
A ring from the door sounded, and Yamacha
slit in and rushed on to a stool at the counter. He
sat with his back towards the window, and
kept his face down and a hand on his hat to
adjust it. His uniform was covered by a brown
smoking coat. "Can I help you?" The waitress
asked. So, he ordered a tea, a package of
sugar, and a container of cream. After the
waitress handed this to him, she leaned on
the counter. "You shouldn't be too mysterious,
Yamacha. Don't worry, I wouldn't tell. I really
don't want any more people here."
Gneiss overheard. "Snowda did mention to
take care of her son entailing this task more
than a footnote." Gneiss recollected the day
that when she had become from a nurse looking
after faceless, and sickly people, who some had
no hope, to look after a child of a caring mother.
The patient was no longer colourless and faceless,
but was as bright as Easter egg, and one more
would not have unexpected, yet more sudden.
She picked up her coffee, with a its saucer and
spoon and sat next to Yamacha. "Thank you
for helping me."
"No problem, I, uh..." he passively guarded his
tea with his eyes as Gneiss slit it over to herself.
She would have done the same for Conkenu
once she thought he was old enough for a hot
beverage that can be harmful. She skimmed
her hand to the right across the waxy counter
to put her hand face down to the right of the cream
container. Yamacha saw what she was doing
was more of a gesture as she had flipped her
hand and the cream soared over the cup. Once
over, her left index nail pieced through the paper lid.
She caught the pouring container, and brought
it down. The spoon was spun around the cup to
mix the tea and cream, and placed to the left. "I
think I can add my own sugar."
Yamacha halted his reaching hand for the
package of sugar, as the spoon somersaulted
up in the air and landed with the head down
covering the sugar. They grabbed for the
spoon, but Gneiss got her thumb on the head
and twisted the tail towards Yamacha. She then
flipped the spoon face up with the sugar cradled
in the curve. The sugar dispatched onto the tail,
then she pressed her thumb down to set the
package up that met with an incisive long hair
pin. The sugar sprinkled into the water and after
stirring, Gneiss tested the warmth.
"It's adequate." Gneiss remarked and gave
the tea back to Yamacha. She promptly realized
before letting go of the tea that Yamacha politely
flushed making no eye contact and unnoticed
to the tea that split on to Yamcha's overcoat
that produced a high pitched scream. The first
reaction of Gneiss in her least experiences in
stains was to get some hot water on the jacket
and rub detergent on it. The jacket came off
with a quick apology, and rushed to a deep
metal sink behind the counter. Water from
a kettle poured onto it, and Gneiss waited
prepared, to the best of any one's ability that is
less than the bachelor's experience of Yamacha,
with a soap dispenser. The water had a strange,
in an unexpected way, reaction to the coat. The
coffee spill did the same thing as the water and
another high pitched sounded with an extra
corollary as a puff of smoke. This puff of smoke
surrounded the upper half of Gneiss and her hand
waved away the cough inducting smog. From the
clearing, a blue and grey flying cat with a much more
glowing colour than normal, held her tail up to
her reddish grey face and blew on the tip. This was
the formal introduction that Gneiss received with
this cat named Pwar; the friend and unofficial manager
of Yamacha.
While the humans had conversations, the flying
cat sulked and ate meatballs from a plate that channeled
her inadvertent bad treatment by Gneiss. "Yamacha,
you shouldn't feed a cat human food." Gneiss infused
to her more curious interrogation of Yamacha. The
remark brought the sulking up to the surface as Pwar
lifted the plate off the table to place on her chair, and
sat with her full back against the target and obstructed
from view by Yamacha. "I didn't mean to offend your
cat."
Yamacha bursted out in song:
"Lady Yellow Stamper
with a fillet in a hamper
Dying to finish the course;
Don't think I am that rude
if I tell you that it's cat food
Not even fit for a horse!"
(King Crimson, "Cat Food")
"Pwar hates it when I sing." Yamacha said.
The sun rays darted through Gniess' drink
and projected in a multifaceted shadow as she
held the glass still on her leg and stopped
reflecting on last day. "I have many questions
yet to ask Yamacha," she tilted the glass and
played with the shadow then resumed her
routine of turning around to look inside to
Conkenu and Kita would have kept to their
own routine of Kita catching Conkenu's foot
as he ran at her and throwing him over her
onto the bed. The light, stomach, and hotel
restaurant agreed in harmony, and time had
come for breakfast. The chair emptied and
Gniess made for the bedroom. The glass
door opened, and thieved the attention of
Conkenu and Kita in the middle of a practise
to be oblivious to the imminent collision, for
a moment. They clawed their way with the
blanket on the bed, and looked at the humorless
stare of grown up eyes. "We are going down
for breakfast now."
"Why can't I wear a dress?" Conkenu asked
Gniess at the breakfast table set up in the
garden. The guest of honor, Kita, had
suggested this question for Conkenu to
stage while they had met after dressing up
for breakfast and in a casual look, had
compared Kita's tropical sea blue dress,
which was inspired with cowboy western as
usual, to Conkenu's mismatched blue
khakis and black work shirt. Knowing that
the up coming orange juice had nothing
to add to this conversation, Gniess painfully
reshallowed. Conkenu swigged some
milk from the straw. "You don't want to
say no."
"Well, I must say no, then."
"You would look just adorable in my
old dresses." Kita held her hands together
and smiled.
"Did you hear that?"
"Yes, but we will ask your father" Gniess
accepted. "Oh, I'm sorry, we can't do that."
"My father!" Conkenu said. "I would
like to speck to him."
The excuse did not come for Gniess,
but a sudden postponement happened
when Kita looked at her wrist watch. From
where she was sitting, she saw a
pelican fly across the window. Inspired
by vision, today was going to be the day
that she and her friend would have
revealed the truth.
-----------------------------
Conkenu and Kita stood on the platform
outside the garden on the second floor
overlooking the cliff. The platform had
meter fence around it and was the roof
of the platform below it that the chef
used to bring the peligans in and sort
the contents of the cloth parcel. Conkenu
tied the twisted blanket around his waist
and the schemer adjusted the lifeline, which
was a few rolled up bed sheets about eight
meters in length that secured on the railing
behind them as they faced the way Conkenu
would have jumped; the large window that
slanted down from the bottom of the third
floor, to the bottom of the first floor, which
revealed the outside from the garden and
the restaurant. Time checked correct for
the plot to steal the bird around 4'o clock
as the pelican flies close to the window
and lands on the lower platform until
the chief comes ten minutes later. The
bird appeared and approached the window,
at this time, they were ready with Conkenu
touching the farther railing, and Kita with
her back to the railing, closest to the bird,
waiting to give Conkenu a lauch. He started
to run, which was different from the practice
as there was less room to run, and stepped
on Kita bonded hands and she threw him,
which was different than the practice as
there was much more room to elevate him.
About twice the height he got from this
powerful young girl, and grabbed the bird
underneath his right arm. The bob then
swung back, and with enough rope, Conkenu's
hair brushed against the bottom edge of the
lower platform and hit his head against the
floor. A whip in the air resonated behind
Kita then she plunged to the ground to dodge
the railing that tore from the rusted nails that
connected it to the stone. All three sides of
the railing falled. Conkenu watched as he
hung from the lower platform by a hand
and acted with promptness to kick a leg
and twisted his foot to locked between
two poles. Pulling down on him, he
remained passive to the railing that
swayed and so induced him. His arms dropped
down, but he did not gamble losing the bag
that he supposed a baby was in there; a very
quiet baby in that Conkenu granted, until he
looked down into a bag full of eggs. Kita had
managed a way down to the lower deck, and
tried to pull him up by the leg. She was half
way there when she slipped and the impact
on the railing caused this one start to give,
but only in one side. Kita seized his leg
once again. She reclined on the pavement
with his foot in two hands. The railing inclined
towards Conkenu, and gave way sliding down
to his leg, but jammed by his free leg. "Let me
drop and I'll throw the bag to you."
"No, I wouldn't let you drop."
"You were right, babies start as eggs."
The grip on Conkenu relented, and he fell.
Before he could throw the eggs up, he saw
he was no longer succumbing to gravity.
"I'm flying." Conkenu said. "I'm choking."
Conkenu reached back to feel a hand.
Kita had jumped and caught up. She flew
up slowly with decreasing acceleration, and
Conkenu passed out.
When Conkenu established his conscious,
he lay in his bed with Kit resting on top the
covers facing him with her eyes closed.
"Kita?"
She opened her eyes, and blinked.
"Nice, he's awake."
Part Two: Gneiss' Trip To Market, And Maternity No Fly Zone! (Day 2)
It was early morning, and Gneiss sat on a chair
near the guardrail of the penthouse and looked at
the mountains. She had forgot the salmon, but
Conkenu did not seem to mind being caught up
with Kita as they planned and rehearsed the way
they could have intercepted the baby carried by
a pelican. The tiled ashen rooftop of the
penthouse was darken brown from the
downpour, and the railing that Gneiss hung her
arms and head above dampened her long brown
hair that collapsed against it. "What's going to
happen today?"
Yesterday...
Gneiss cruised in her car, and looked for the
bridge that would get her to the otherside of the
river so she could go to the town market. The
town across the river from the hotel was much
larger than the other, as highlighted for the
purpose of Gneiss journey, it had a market that
the village where they stayed used, plus the
town had many other enticements with a movie
theater, a baseball stadium for a professional
team, and a two level mall. She caught the
bridge closest to the hotel and crossed over the
green and rusted lane that was two meters the
width of her car. She now was driving north up
the river, and she looked up at the town she was
staying. The travel time was close to an hour,
the time she said it would have taken her, but she
did not conceived of the bridge being as far
away and thought of it as she had when
processing to the hotel to check in at the front
desk. The car drove up against a sidewalk and
stopped. She carefully stepped out of the car
onto the sidewalk to avoid the puddle that
dwelled under the driver's side. Gneiss turned
back into the car to get her purse before
shutting the door. She seized the attention a man
with a black leather jacket propping a brick wall
with his hand and talking to four other males in
shabby clothes. The man, whose attention
located on Gneiss's struggle to keep her shoes
dry for anyone but Conkenu, approached her as
he removed his jacket presenting his white muscle
shirt. He placed the jacket on the puddle. "Here
you go madam. Call me Lars." He spoke up and
sent her a hand that she took and got out of the car.
Lars closed the car door with but a click made, and
Gneiss furnished curtsy and a relaxed smile. He
smiled backed and bent down to pick up his jacket
and returned with a short broad knife. "Now, give
me your money, babe."
She hopped back until she settled standing
straight up near the back bumper. She stared at
him with her eyebrows bunched and a slightly opened
mouth. "It's Gneiss!" She said in an irritated voice.
The group laughed. Lars took a step forward and
spread his hands.
"Sure, when we get the money." He responded,
and looked at his men who withdrew from their
lethargic stances to join the leader.
"G-n-e-i-s-s," she spelt out to end the confusion, "but
I would be surprise if any of you could spell correctly
what you thought I said."
With the knife in his right hand, Lars thrush at Gneiss
who threw her back against the trunk of the car and
reached over to the back door with her left hand. Lars
turned around with a meter and a half separating the
two fighters. She opened the door slightly, and
prepared as he ran at her again. With her body staying
in contact with the back door, she rolled against the car
and opened the door as the knife smashed through the
end of the window breaking the glass that flew pass
Gneiss. She got her back away from the front door and
slapped the back door on his elbow causing him to let
go of the knife. Her next move as she stood close to Lars
as he faced the car trying to open the door with his left
hand was crossing her right foot behind the left leg and
kicking him in the side of his right leg. He fell to his knees,
and she twisted around right on her left foot to raise the
other up to kick him in the head. That was the end of the
fight for Lars, but his company remained standing, with
not enough time to react to her defense, and they were
not going to take anything lightly. They lined up in
formation to confront the woman who paid more
attention to her long skirt that stained with blood and
she licked her hand to moisturize the small but
attractive blot. When she busied herself with cleaning,
the remaining four guys removed their grungy clothes
and started to expose their pristine black tuxedos, which
detained Gneiss's attention. Her skirt dropped down back
to her ankles. "Where did you get those suits?" Gneiss
interrogated the group of men mending their tuxedos as
dutiful as Gneiss once did with her dress not too long
ago. A man to the outside of the line jumped high into the
air into a crouched flip. She evaded with a two handed
back spring and watched as the man drop kicked the
cement cracking the sidewalk bringing up dust and bits
of stone covering his black dress shoes which anyone
could have missed in his previous attire. "Nice suits.
How did you afford them?" Gneiss asked to the guy
who got off the ground. Before the answer, she got
close enough to him to place her left foot behind his
right heel following up with a two handed push to make
him off balance. With his right leg off the ground, she
crouched down and sweep backwards with her right
foot and stretched to take the other leg from behind
him. As the man laid there, she hopped on to his
chest knocking the wind out of him. One man came
from behind her, and caught her off guard taking
advantage of the situation, he lifted her up and threw
her over her car. She smashed against a shaded
window of a tour bus shattering the glass. The bus
halted with shrieking tires. Gneiss twirled off the
window and landed on the ground down on a knee
and a foot. She looked up; the men jumped over
her car. The three formed a triangle with a single
man taking the lead. A swoosh came, and they
looked over to an average height man with black
hair and a good build come out of the bus with
his baseball uniform on belonging to the number
one team the Titans.
"It's the King Crimson." A tuxedo mentioned.
Though, it was just a nickname given to him by
the pitchers of the professional league suitable
for this homerun slugger. His real name was
Yamacha, and he had a double face about his
fans calling him a hero. He knew what a real
hero was, and he wanted to be a hero, even if
it was for a game. "So you think you are a
fighter? I have to warn you, because I am no
baseball player."
The challenger crossed his hands to press
down two buttons on his cuffs. The tuxedo
cleaned up, and his shoes dug a few
centimeters into the ground. Gneiss backed
to the bus followed by a narrow steady cracking
of the street. The man took a step forward and
slid on his right foot across the pavement raising
his left leg to kick. Yamcha vanished and
reappeared beside Gneiss taking her left hand
with his right to raise her head down over his
head and placing her feet first on the ground to
the left of him. Yamcha looked at the man who
thought he had made contact with the kick who
hadn't stopped yet and started to split the metal
of the side of the bus then out the other end.
The last unconscious trouble maker lounged
face down in the impact he had made in a car
on the other side of the bus. The condition of
bus was deemed unsafe to drive with two rows
on gone and connected only by the roof as
Yamacha looked through the bus towards the
end of the wreckage, to the man who gathered
much attention and fellow players who were in
the path getting up to check their injuries, which
were more shock than physical. Yamacha
walked inside the bus to the man who attacked
him. Before clearing the bus, the fallen baseball
players sat up and looked at Yamacha. "So you
do more than beat up the players?" One of them
said to him, as he did not turn his attention to
the comment that remarked on King Crimson's
latest fine putting him way under his original
highest paid player position. This did not bug
him as he looked over the lifeless man man. With
a current running across the tuxedo, the suit
dematerialized back into the watch. Yamacha
lifted up the limp arm, and removed the watch
into his pocket.
"Everyone, the game today is going to be
cancelled." The coach said with a grim face
as he told his players who had picked up their
fallen allies and formed a mass on the side
of the bus where Yamacha was.
Gneiss sat at a table in a small narrow
restaurant near the window on a small
table for two that overlooked the destruction
outside. A waitress wearing a downy white
apron with a canvas of spills and stains walked
from the other end to the only client in the room.
Gneiss or the waitress kept attention on each other
very long as the waitress place the coffee pot on
the table and joined her in watching the cops escorted
the Penguin Patrol (not the only animal
based gang) in the crowd into the squad cars.
"I hope the crowd doesn't come into this place."
The waitress remarked and walked away without
filling or taking the coffee pot with her.
A ring from the door sounded, and Yamacha
slit in and rushed on to a stool at the counter. He
sat with his back towards the window, and
kept his face down and a hand on his hat to
adjust it. His uniform was covered by a brown
smoking coat. "Can I help you?" The waitress
asked. So, he ordered a tea, a package of
sugar, and a container of cream. After the
waitress handed this to him, she leaned on
the counter. "You shouldn't be too mysterious,
Yamacha. Don't worry, I wouldn't tell. I really
don't want any more people here."
Gneiss overheard. "Snowda did mention to
take care of her son entailing this task more
than a footnote." Gneiss recollected the day
that when she had become from a nurse looking
after faceless, and sickly people, who some had
no hope, to look after a child of a caring mother.
The patient was no longer colourless and faceless,
but was as bright as Easter egg, and one more
would not have unexpected, yet more sudden.
She picked up her coffee, with a its saucer and
spoon and sat next to Yamacha. "Thank you
for helping me."
"No problem, I, uh..." he passively guarded his
tea with his eyes as Gneiss slit it over to herself.
She would have done the same for Conkenu
once she thought he was old enough for a hot
beverage that can be harmful. She skimmed
her hand to the right across the waxy counter
to put her hand face down to the right of the cream
container. Yamacha saw what she was doing
was more of a gesture as she had flipped her
hand and the cream soared over the cup. Once
over, her left index nail pieced through the paper lid.
She caught the pouring container, and brought
it down. The spoon was spun around the cup to
mix the tea and cream, and placed to the left. "I
think I can add my own sugar."
Yamacha halted his reaching hand for the
package of sugar, as the spoon somersaulted
up in the air and landed with the head down
covering the sugar. They grabbed for the
spoon, but Gneiss got her thumb on the head
and twisted the tail towards Yamacha. She then
flipped the spoon face up with the sugar cradled
in the curve. The sugar dispatched onto the tail,
then she pressed her thumb down to set the
package up that met with an incisive long hair
pin. The sugar sprinkled into the water and after
stirring, Gneiss tested the warmth.
"It's adequate." Gneiss remarked and gave
the tea back to Yamacha. She promptly realized
before letting go of the tea that Yamacha politely
flushed making no eye contact and unnoticed
to the tea that split on to Yamcha's overcoat
that produced a high pitched scream. The first
reaction of Gneiss in her least experiences in
stains was to get some hot water on the jacket
and rub detergent on it. The jacket came off
with a quick apology, and rushed to a deep
metal sink behind the counter. Water from
a kettle poured onto it, and Gneiss waited
prepared, to the best of any one's ability that is
less than the bachelor's experience of Yamacha,
with a soap dispenser. The water had a strange,
in an unexpected way, reaction to the coat. The
coffee spill did the same thing as the water and
another high pitched sounded with an extra
corollary as a puff of smoke. This puff of smoke
surrounded the upper half of Gneiss and her hand
waved away the cough inducting smog. From the
clearing, a blue and grey flying cat with a much more
glowing colour than normal, held her tail up to
her reddish grey face and blew on the tip. This was
the formal introduction that Gneiss received with
this cat named Pwar; the friend and unofficial manager
of Yamacha.
While the humans had conversations, the flying
cat sulked and ate meatballs from a plate that channeled
her inadvertent bad treatment by Gneiss. "Yamacha,
you shouldn't feed a cat human food." Gneiss infused
to her more curious interrogation of Yamacha. The
remark brought the sulking up to the surface as Pwar
lifted the plate off the table to place on her chair, and
sat with her full back against the target and obstructed
from view by Yamacha. "I didn't mean to offend your
cat."
Yamacha bursted out in song:
"Lady Yellow Stamper
with a fillet in a hamper
Dying to finish the course;
Don't think I am that rude
if I tell you that it's cat food
Not even fit for a horse!"
(King Crimson, "Cat Food")
"Pwar hates it when I sing." Yamacha said.
The sun rays darted through Gniess' drink
and projected in a multifaceted shadow as she
held the glass still on her leg and stopped
reflecting on last day. "I have many questions
yet to ask Yamacha," she tilted the glass and
played with the shadow then resumed her
routine of turning around to look inside to
Conkenu and Kita would have kept to their
own routine of Kita catching Conkenu's foot
as he ran at her and throwing him over her
onto the bed. The light, stomach, and hotel
restaurant agreed in harmony, and time had
come for breakfast. The chair emptied and
Gniess made for the bedroom. The glass
door opened, and thieved the attention of
Conkenu and Kita in the middle of a practise
to be oblivious to the imminent collision, for
a moment. They clawed their way with the
blanket on the bed, and looked at the humorless
stare of grown up eyes. "We are going down
for breakfast now."
"Why can't I wear a dress?" Conkenu asked
Gniess at the breakfast table set up in the
garden. The guest of honor, Kita, had
suggested this question for Conkenu to
stage while they had met after dressing up
for breakfast and in a casual look, had
compared Kita's tropical sea blue dress,
which was inspired with cowboy western as
usual, to Conkenu's mismatched blue
khakis and black work shirt. Knowing that
the up coming orange juice had nothing
to add to this conversation, Gniess painfully
reshallowed. Conkenu swigged some
milk from the straw. "You don't want to
say no."
"Well, I must say no, then."
"You would look just adorable in my
old dresses." Kita held her hands together
and smiled.
"Did you hear that?"
"Yes, but we will ask your father" Gniess
accepted. "Oh, I'm sorry, we can't do that."
"My father!" Conkenu said. "I would
like to speck to him."
The excuse did not come for Gniess,
but a sudden postponement happened
when Kita looked at her wrist watch. From
where she was sitting, she saw a
pelican fly across the window. Inspired
by vision, today was going to be the day
that she and her friend would have
revealed the truth.
-----------------------------
Conkenu and Kita stood on the platform
outside the garden on the second floor
overlooking the cliff. The platform had
meter fence around it and was the roof
of the platform below it that the chef
used to bring the peligans in and sort
the contents of the cloth parcel. Conkenu
tied the twisted blanket around his waist
and the schemer adjusted the lifeline, which
was a few rolled up bed sheets about eight
meters in length that secured on the railing
behind them as they faced the way Conkenu
would have jumped; the large window that
slanted down from the bottom of the third
floor, to the bottom of the first floor, which
revealed the outside from the garden and
the restaurant. Time checked correct for
the plot to steal the bird around 4'o clock
as the pelican flies close to the window
and lands on the lower platform until
the chief comes ten minutes later. The
bird appeared and approached the window,
at this time, they were ready with Conkenu
touching the farther railing, and Kita with
her back to the railing, closest to the bird,
waiting to give Conkenu a lauch. He started
to run, which was different from the practice
as there was less room to run, and stepped
on Kita bonded hands and she threw him,
which was different than the practice as
there was much more room to elevate him.
About twice the height he got from this
powerful young girl, and grabbed the bird
underneath his right arm. The bob then
swung back, and with enough rope, Conkenu's
hair brushed against the bottom edge of the
lower platform and hit his head against the
floor. A whip in the air resonated behind
Kita then she plunged to the ground to dodge
the railing that tore from the rusted nails that
connected it to the stone. All three sides of
the railing falled. Conkenu watched as he
hung from the lower platform by a hand
and acted with promptness to kick a leg
and twisted his foot to locked between
two poles. Pulling down on him, he
remained passive to the railing that
swayed and so induced him. His arms dropped
down, but he did not gamble losing the bag
that he supposed a baby was in there; a very
quiet baby in that Conkenu granted, until he
looked down into a bag full of eggs. Kita had
managed a way down to the lower deck, and
tried to pull him up by the leg. She was half
way there when she slipped and the impact
on the railing caused this one start to give,
but only in one side. Kita seized his leg
once again. She reclined on the pavement
with his foot in two hands. The railing inclined
towards Conkenu, and gave way sliding down
to his leg, but jammed by his free leg. "Let me
drop and I'll throw the bag to you."
"No, I wouldn't let you drop."
"You were right, babies start as eggs."
The grip on Conkenu relented, and he fell.
Before he could throw the eggs up, he saw
he was no longer succumbing to gravity.
"I'm flying." Conkenu said. "I'm choking."
Conkenu reached back to feel a hand.
Kita had jumped and caught up. She flew
up slowly with decreasing acceleration, and
Conkenu passed out.
When Conkenu established his conscious,
he lay in his bed with Kit resting on top the
covers facing him with her eyes closed.
"Kita?"
She opened her eyes, and blinked.
"Nice, he's awake."