Ms aCorn: Gloyd is the easiest of the boys for me to write for, plus he's one of my favorite racers anyway. It was just a matter of personal preference, no deep reason for it :) And yeah, there was no way he was going to stay with one of the girls lol, but he will get to hang out with them too, of course. Thanks for the review and for reading! :)
Save Me from My Dark Side
Chapter Sixteen
The Candy Corn Fields stood before the two racers, both from different generations of gaming, in all its sweet glory. Acres of copper-red stalks bearing ripe cobs of candy corn made up the backyard of Gloyd Orangeboar's house and, quite frankly, Turbo hadn't really looked forward to seeing it again. The last time he had went through there, Skittles had tried to incinerate him...not exactly his idea of a good time. He shuddered at the memory of the pony's hot breath blowing down his back. Gloyd unfolded his mystery paper and jumped up a bit to put it in Turbo's direct line of sight, prompting him to grab it so he could view it without Gloyd having to reach up on his tiptoes the whole time.
What Turbo saw appeared to be a large square made up of small dots, and the dots had lines all through them, some of them encircled. There were also numerical notations on the square's perimeter. He turned the paper around upside-down to see if it made more sense that way but it didn't. Finally, he sighed in defeat and asked,
"What the hell am I looking at?"
Gloyd gasped in an exaggerated manner, prompting Turbo to look down with alarm.
"What?" he asked in an embarrassingly high-pitched tone, thinking something had happened to the lad. "What's wrong?"
"You said a curse word!"
Turbo's panicked face dropped back into an annoyed one, then he wiped a hand down his face in exasperation. This was gonna be a loooooong two weeks...
"Gimme a break, kid," he remarked grouchily when he sneered back down at him. "You guys may have the rest of the world fooled, but I know you're not all that innocent. What do you think you really mean when you say stuff like 'oh, fudge' or that you're going to kick someone's 'molasses', huh?"
"Yeah, but at least we disguise it in clever 'Rated E for Everyone' puns and not the actual word!" Gloyd argued back, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
The two of them held a glaring contest for a while, Turbo's yellow eyes piercing into Gloyd's brown ones. Turbo finally had enough and turned his head away from the boy, who smirked triumphantly to himself at "winning" the contest.
"Just answer my question," insisted Turbo impatiently, gently shaking the paper he was still holding in his hand to remind Gloyd why they were out there.
Gloyd's eyes brightened up at the reminder and he grabbed his paper back and skipped towards the fields with his arms open wide. "We're going to make a maze!"
The reaction from Turbo was not what he had wanted though it should have been what he expected. The older racer had a flat expression on his face and he stared at the child through dull eyes.
"We're...what?"
Gloyd turned around at his unimpressed tone and bounced back towards him. "A maze!" he repeated excitedly. "You know, one that you can walk through and get lost in and all that fun stuff!"
It would be no different than a corn maze that children went through in the Real World, usually during the autumn months. Turbo had no knowledge of this sort of thing, of course, so he didn't understand the point of it. Sugar Rush was a racing game after all, and this had no relation to the sport whatsoever...unless you drove your kart through it, which he doubted would be the case here..
"What's the purpose of this?"
Gloyd rolled his eyes dramatically. "For fun! What else?"
The adult of the duo didn't understand what was so fun about getting lost but he wasn't about to get into an argument about a child's logic...with a child.
"What's all that stuff on that paper supposed to be?" he asked instead, twirling one finger towards the scribbled-on sheet.
Gloyd opened his paper back up and held it up in the air at Turbo's eye level, using his finger to point out the stuff that was on it.
"The dots represent the actual stalks. It took forever to count them all, by the way," he told him as he began to explain. "Anyway, I have the stalks circled that need to be removed that will become the paths and dead ends in the maze. We have to go around and tie those off with licorice rope so we'll know which ones to go back and chop down later."
Turbo realized what he was looking at was a detailed map. He also realized that the numbers on the side were supposed to represent how large the field was and the area of it, and all that mathematical jazz. To be honest, he was quite impressed that a kid had put this much work into something this complicated.
"You realize this is going to take forever, right?" he said at length, looking back down at his "gracious host".
Gloyd just smiled and shook his head, folding his paper back up to put in his jacket pocket. "Nah, it's not like me and you are going to be the only ones working on it. Everybody else is helping out, not at the same time though, so it shouldn't take near as long as you think it will."
Well, that was a relief. Turbo felt pretty lazy admitting to himself that he was glad he wasn't going to be worked to the bone like he thought he was. Then again, the idea of being surrounded by all the kids at once sounded like a nightmare...and overwhelming. Gloyd at least wasn't proving to be as much of a pest as he had expected or even giving him a hard time about his past, but what if the other kids were different? He suddenly wished he had another adult around to keep him company. Also, the desire to have a drink hit him but he forced himself to push the urge away.
"Sounds like a good plan," he allowed himself to smile softly. "Except for one problem."
Gloyd's face fell. "What's that?"
Turbo pointed out towards the fields, his face developing a more aggravated look. "There's a fire-breathing pony in there, in case you don't remember!"
He was astonished that the boy started laughing at him, not to mention a little pissed off at the impudence.
"I see nothing funny about getting burnt to a crisp, Orangeboar."
Gloyd had tears coming out of the corners of his eyes. "Wow, you mean Skittles? He's totally harmless!"
Turbo's eyes bugged out. "Harmless?" he repeated, disbelief evident in his voice. "That furry furnace is anything but harmless!"
The young prankster shook his head at the ground before looking back up at the adult. "Just give him some sugar cubes and you'll be his best friend for life."
"I highly doubt that will be the case with me," Turbo muttered, remembering that even during his reign as "king", the uni-candy-corn had never liked him despite all his efforts at being nice to the fiery beast.
Gloyd rolled his eyes for what felt like the fiftieth time since Turbo came to him. However, he had offered up his home rather than being forced into it by his president, so it was his own fault that he was having to deal with this guy. He was determined to get him to lighten up, whatever it took, and hopefully it didn't take the entire two weeks that he was here.
"Boy, I'm glad I can't grow up and be a grumpy old guy like you."
Turbo twisted his head down at him with a scowl. "I'm not old...or grumpy," he retorted, crossing his arms.
"You certainly looked old when you were playing king."
"I aged myself purposely," he explained bitterly. "I'm only thirty, thank you very much."
"Whatever. You're still grumpy," Gloyd shrugged with a hint of a smirk still on his childish face. "How does Missus Turbo put up with you?"
Gloyd was surprised that he managed to get a genuine smile out of the not-old-or-grumpy man when he mentioned the wife. Then again, he supposed it was only natural for married couples to smile when they thought about each other, otherwise they wouldn't be married.
"'Missus Turbo', huh?" he couldn't help but chuckle at the cutesy title bestowed upon her. I wonder what she's doing right now...
The echo of the gunfire rang in Rosie's ears even though she had the protective ear muffs on. She was standing behind and slightly to the left of Calhoun as she finished emptying her magazine into the target in front of her, both of them at the shooting range in Hero's Duty. Every time Rosie heard the gun go off, she jolted a little bit even though she knew it wasn't her that was being aimed at. Finally, the tall blonde removed her goggles and headgear, tossing them carelessly in a small bin behind her and snapped her fingers at Rosie to get her to do the same. Rosie didn't know Calhoun very well but she had figured out pretty quick that if she told you to do something, you did it immediately.
"So, pom-poms, what did you want to talk about?" the sergeant asked as the two walked out of the room and into a long corridor. She wasn't one for chit-chat or especially girl talk but when the redhead had asked to speak to her about something, she had seemed rather anxious and Calhoun found herself unable to say "no".
Rosie looked down as they walked, fiddling with her hands nervously. It was a habit that Calhoun despised, even though her own husband was guilty of doing it sometimes, but she couldn't help but be annoyed with it.
"Well, I sort of wanted to ask about you and Felix," she answered her, finally craning her head up towards her as she tried to keep up the pace with the taller woman.
Calhoun cut her eyes to the side as if trying to figure out if that was a good idea or not. She eventually nodded her head to the side down another hallway where they ended up at a door that Calhoun had to swipe a card key through, granting access into what turned out to be her personal chambers. The apartment was designed like any other army barrack: a simple bed decked in olive bedding that was tucked in tightly due to military standards, a simple black chrome night stand with a glowing digital alarm clock, off-white bare walls with the exception of one with a mirror on it that was positioned in front of a breakfast table, a small kitchen just big enough for one person to go into, a small door to the side on the far wall that led to a small bathroom and then a smaller one beside it that was the closet.
Rosie sat down in one of the table chairs that Calhoun motioned for her to go to while she reached inside her closet for more "civilian" clothes to wear and ducked into the bathroom.
"What about me and short stack did you want to know?" the sergeant queried from behind the closed door. "Better not be for any bedroom advice."
"Oh, no...we don't need help with that," she smiled shyly to herself, a blush creeping along her cheeks. "I was just wondering...how long did you two know each other before you got married?"
Calhoun stepped out in an olive tank top and khaki cargo pants, her dog tags hanging loosely from her neck. She went to hang up her armor in her closet, her silence rather unnerving to her guest.
"About three months," she answered at last as she shut the closet door and then headed towards the kitchen. "Coffee?"
Rosie shook her head in declination, a shocked look present on her face at the same time. "Three months? That's it?"
"That's all we needed," Calhoun told her bluntly from the kitchen. The muted sound of the coffeemaker filled the air and she went to take a seat across from Rosie at the small table. "Sure, it was a little faster than most people, but when you're in love, why wait?"
Calhoun noticed Rosie had a worried, if not nauseated, look on her face, her brow knitted with worry.
"Yeah, but you don't ever think about all those years Felix lived before he met you?" she wanted to know, her fingers playing with the ends of her skirt under the table. "Like, all the stuff he did, all the life experiences he had?"
The sergeant pondered for a second. "I'll have to answer in the negative for that one. Felix isn't the most adventurous guy in the world, so I don't think I have to worry that he did any daredevil stunts before I showed up," she replied with a crooked smile.
"And you don't think you moved too fast? Not even a little bit?"
The coffeemaker beeped, signalling that the brew was ready, so Calhoun paused the conversation momentarily to go and fix herself a cup. Rosie didn't think she could come back any slower if she tried. The blonde finally returned, sitting back down in her seat and sipping her hot beverage before placing the mug in front of her.
"I don't think you really wanted to ask about me and Felix," she deduced after another moment of silence. "I think you feel like you need to validate your own marriage."
Rosie instantly shot her eyes to the floor. "It's not that I think we moved too fast," she began, wringing her hands in her lap. "I mean, we were together four years before he...disappeared. But then we didn't see each other again for a quarter of a century, and-"
"And you got married the same day you found each other," Calhoun finished for her, trying to get to the point here. "So what? You think there's some mumbo-jumbo you needed to clear up that happened in that 'little' chunk of absence?"
"Well, it's just...I guess I didn't realize that it was going to be this way," Rosie confessed, feeling bashful at discussing this with a near stranger. "We both went through a lot but I think I fared better than he did, since I'm not the one having nightmares or having social issues. I sort of wished we'd cleared that up sooner."
Calhoun studied her as she took another sip. "You're not regretting marrying him are you?"
Rosie's eyes widened at the very thought. "Oh, no, I would've married him regardless."
The sergeant shrugged her hands up above her head briefly. "Then what's the big deal? Who cares how fast or slow you guys went so long as you love him?"
A hurt look filled the other girl's eyes when she heard that and a lightbulb clicked in Calhoun's head.
"You don't think he loves you back?"
Rosie seemed almost ashamed of herself. "I...I started thinking that...I know he loves me, but..." Her bottom lip began to quiver as she spoke. "I think not as much as I do him."
She held her face in her hand to cover her eyes to try and keep tears from flowing but it didn't work. She cursed herself inwardly, hating that she felt this way. Fortunately, she didn't go into a full-on cry session because Calhoun had reached over to grab her arm in order to shock her into reality.
"Why do you think that?" she demanded to know as she leaned back in her chair again.
Rosie wiped the tears from her face, trying to get a grip on herself. "I...I had asked him...if he could pick me or his old home...which one would he want...and he didn't even answer."
Calhoun looked a little surprised. "You mean you actually asked a man to choose between two things?" she smiled wryly. "You realize that's impossible for them to do, right?"
She choked a laugh despite the somber mood she was in.
"Listen, I don't know you two very well, but...come on, give the guy a break," the blonde had to chuckle. "This week's been pretty rough on him, he's probably not thinking the way he normally does. Obviously, since he got boozed up and tried to drive through a giant piece of candy."
Rosie had to crack a smile at that, appreciating that the hard-nosed sergeant was trying to lighten up the atmosphere.
"And trust me, beauty pageant, I'm not one for sentiments but I've seen the way he looks at you. It's the same way Felix looks at me," she assured her, a real smile coming to her own lips as she thought about her sweet little husband. "So, I don't think you have to worry about him loving you because all you have to do is glance at him and tell. And the last thing he needs right now is you doubting him, because everybody else is already doing that."
She hadn't even considered that notion. "You're right," she told Calhoun, a bigger smile forming now. "I'm probably just overreacting."
"Sure you are!" the soldier barked in agreement, slapping the table for emphasis. "Now get out there and be supportive! And no more kleenex moments out of you!"
Rosie walked through Game Central Station after she left Hero's Duty, a few people saying "hello" to her as they passed by. She was glad she had decided to talk to the sergeant, she felt much better and a little more resolved than she had earlier. Of course Turbo loved her, she had been silly to think otherwise. He was just going through a hard time and needed to work it out. She felt pretty selfish about how she had felt earlier, this was about him, not her, after all.
She approached a bench and muttered a rather vulgar word under her breath when she saw who was sitting on it. Her stomach tightened but she clenched her jaw and strolled over there with a look of determination. She cleared her throat to prompt Officer Bob to turn around and give his trademark shit-eating grin at her, that stupid toothpick jutting out of his mouth like an unlit cigarette.
"I just want to thank you for not killing my husband," she smiled sarcastically as she peered down at the policeman. "I appreciated having him come home in one piece."
Bob turned his head to chortle stupidly and then turned back around towards Rosie. "I didn't force him to do anything. He came to me wanting that shit. Poor guy was whining about you leaving him, how could I decline his request?"
Rosie glared at him, her green eyes dark with hatred for the man before her. "Don't shit with me, dickface," she growled. "You come near him again and I'll be the one you better be watching out for."
She stormed off before he had a chance to respond but she heard the laughter anyway. Why couldn't someone just "accidentally" kill that guy already? It was a horrible thought, but dang it all she really hated him. She shook it off as she headed towards a certain sugary world, hoping she wouldn't get too lost as she had never even been there before.