"Richie?" called Mac from another room. "Is that you?"
"You bet it is," I called back. "Who else would it be?"
"One never knows," he said with a shrug, appearing in the kitchen doorway.
"Did you get – what happened?" He came over to inspect my face. I tried to duck
away, but he grabbed my head and held me still.
"Mahc!" I slurred in protest, because he had my face in such a way that I
couldn't talk. "I fah, shtop't"-
"Richie," he said sternly, "Just hold still, will you." He cleaned my face while I
tried not to wince.
When he finally stopped, I asked, "Are you done?" He nodded.
"What happened, anyway?"
"Nothing," I said. If I told him what had actually happened, he would lecture
me about not jumping into dangerous situations. However, Mac had other ideas –
he grabbed my arm and forced me to face him.
"'Nothing' did not do that," he said. "Tell me."
"All right, a brick wall did that," I said. "Happy?"
He ignored my oh-so-subtle plea for release, and instead asked, "And who put
you into contact with this brick wall?"
"Some guy," I answered. I knew by now that he wasn't going to let up until he
knew everything he wanted to know, but annoying him in the process could be
fun.
"Was this perhaps some immortal guy?" I pulled a face. How did Mac always
seem to know everything already?
"He might have been."
"Yes or no, Richie."
"Yes, the guy was immortal." He raised his eyebrows.
"There was someone else, too?" I turned around to start putting away the
groceries, pulling out of his grip.
"Yeah, there was."
"Who else?"
"A girl. She beat the guy up." I turned to look at him again with a sly grin. "She
was as good as you." Mac looked surprised.
"Was she immortal too?" I shook my head.
"Unh uh. She was just really good."
"Do you know her?" I shook my head again.
"Never seen her."
"So what was the guy like? Have you ever seen him before? Did he say what
his name was?"
"Whoa, Mac," I protested, "One question at a time. I know there's another guy
challenging your position of best neighborhood immortal, but would ya calm
down? I've never seen him before. He was like, my height, brown hair, lots of
scars. Said his name was Black Jack." A weird look suddenly came over his face.
"Black Jack?" he repeated slowly.
"What, you know the guy?"
"I might." Honestly, he could be just as stubborn as me when he wanted.
"Yes or no, Mac." He glared at me.
"I've had words with him."
"And swords?" Mac sighed, rolled his eyes, and walked out of the kitchen.
"Perhaps."
"I'll take that to mean yes," I called after him. "Now, are you going to make
dinner, or did I go get all this for nothing?"
"Yes, Richie," he replied, coming back into the kitchen. "You can go unload
the boxes from the car and bring them into the back, if you're looking for
something to do. Even if you're not, you can still do that."
"Yes sir, right away, sir!" I retorted. Mac ignored me. I grabbed a soda out of
the fridge and headed out the back door to the car. As I went, I was sure I heard
Mac mumble something about 'Black Jack.'
"You bet it is," I called back. "Who else would it be?"
"One never knows," he said with a shrug, appearing in the kitchen doorway.
"Did you get – what happened?" He came over to inspect my face. I tried to duck
away, but he grabbed my head and held me still.
"Mahc!" I slurred in protest, because he had my face in such a way that I
couldn't talk. "I fah, shtop't"-
"Richie," he said sternly, "Just hold still, will you." He cleaned my face while I
tried not to wince.
When he finally stopped, I asked, "Are you done?" He nodded.
"What happened, anyway?"
"Nothing," I said. If I told him what had actually happened, he would lecture
me about not jumping into dangerous situations. However, Mac had other ideas –
he grabbed my arm and forced me to face him.
"'Nothing' did not do that," he said. "Tell me."
"All right, a brick wall did that," I said. "Happy?"
He ignored my oh-so-subtle plea for release, and instead asked, "And who put
you into contact with this brick wall?"
"Some guy," I answered. I knew by now that he wasn't going to let up until he
knew everything he wanted to know, but annoying him in the process could be
fun.
"Was this perhaps some immortal guy?" I pulled a face. How did Mac always
seem to know everything already?
"He might have been."
"Yes or no, Richie."
"Yes, the guy was immortal." He raised his eyebrows.
"There was someone else, too?" I turned around to start putting away the
groceries, pulling out of his grip.
"Yeah, there was."
"Who else?"
"A girl. She beat the guy up." I turned to look at him again with a sly grin. "She
was as good as you." Mac looked surprised.
"Was she immortal too?" I shook my head.
"Unh uh. She was just really good."
"Do you know her?" I shook my head again.
"Never seen her."
"So what was the guy like? Have you ever seen him before? Did he say what
his name was?"
"Whoa, Mac," I protested, "One question at a time. I know there's another guy
challenging your position of best neighborhood immortal, but would ya calm
down? I've never seen him before. He was like, my height, brown hair, lots of
scars. Said his name was Black Jack." A weird look suddenly came over his face.
"Black Jack?" he repeated slowly.
"What, you know the guy?"
"I might." Honestly, he could be just as stubborn as me when he wanted.
"Yes or no, Mac." He glared at me.
"I've had words with him."
"And swords?" Mac sighed, rolled his eyes, and walked out of the kitchen.
"Perhaps."
"I'll take that to mean yes," I called after him. "Now, are you going to make
dinner, or did I go get all this for nothing?"
"Yes, Richie," he replied, coming back into the kitchen. "You can go unload
the boxes from the car and bring them into the back, if you're looking for
something to do. Even if you're not, you can still do that."
"Yes sir, right away, sir!" I retorted. Mac ignored me. I grabbed a soda out of
the fridge and headed out the back door to the car. As I went, I was sure I heard
Mac mumble something about 'Black Jack.'