32- Interlude
"Then the LORD said, 'If they do not believe you or pay attention to the first sign, they may believe the second.'" – Exodus 4:8
One hand supported her chin as the other tapped with boredom against the living room table. Pa-tump. Pa-tump. Pa-tump. A slow blink fell, beginning to carry the stress of idleness. She curled her fingers onto the wood like it was a piano's keys- and one last time, it was too forceful. She suddenly felt something shift underneath their tips.
Nothing moving but her gaze, the woman glanced down. Underneath her left hand was a paper; some sort of writing was obscured beneath her palm. She lifted it, and what it revealed made her head tilt and one eyebrow raise.
"Hey Sammy," she chimed for him. In the corner of her sight, Sammy lifted his mask to face her, banjo on his lap as he casually sat upon the floor to fiddle with it. In return, he saw her gesture with a momentary nod towards the table. "Who's this?"
It was indistinguishable if Sammy's exhalation was a sigh or a groan as he slowly came to his feet, neck of his favorite instrument still in his grip. And as he stood over the paper, he too tilted his head.
"Henry and Boris," Francine read. They were the titles over rows of tally marks, organized in a way not unfamiliar to anyone that had played a series of games to pass a long, rainy day. Her tone seemed to carry both amusement that eased the stale drear of the apartment as well as genuine curiosity. She stared at the paper for a bit longer, waiting for Sammy to respond. When he didn't, she turned up again to look at him.
"Ring any bells?"
As she realized that silence had fallen heavily upon him, it was unknown to her if it was because he didn't understand that phrase, or if it was yet another episode of drowning memories trying to crawl to the surface of his consciousness.
Either way, he seemed dismissive.
"I'm certain you've seen a 'Boris' on some of the posters that line the walls, Francine."
She had to concede to that, and she admitted so with a few sideways bobs of the neck and a small, "Ah, yeah." It was a wolf, right? Certainly seemed more like a Goofy rip-off, if she recalled. But anyway, so that took care of that.
"Wait, but what about-?"
But as she looked to him again to inquire about the other name, she saw his back was already turned at her, lingering into the doorway and eventually leaving down the hall.
She frowned, and her brow furrowed in annoyance. There was no awareness that this instance would be of any significance; she was merely frustrated with the man's wandering mind.
And so the moment passed without any acknowledgment about how odd it would be for two people she believed to be all alone in the world to find evidence that at some point, there had at least been two more. She recognized the nature of a game without recalling that in order for one to play it, it was required they physically exist in the first place.