by Logan Jacobs
It took us twice as long to find our way back to the Green Parrot, after a few turns down roads that suddenly ended and walking several blocks out of our way to avoid a pack of protesters covered in blue dye and crying and coughing uncontrollably. We did a quick check of the crowd, but neither of us spotted our companions in the mix, so we slipped away and found a less busy route to the inn.
“Oh, there you are,” the clerk greeted us when we finally plunged through the door. “Your friends said I should send you on back to the tea room when you arrived.”
“Tea room,” the parrot squawked. “Bring us biscuits!”
“Hush, Emma,” the clerk chastised the bird. “You’ll have your biscuits at the regular time.”
“Where’s the tea room?” I interrupted.
“Just follow this hallway to the end then make a right,” the clerk explained as she pointed toward a doorway with a sign that said ‘Conference Rooms’. “It’s at the end.”
“Thanks,” I replied as we started toward the conference rooms.
“Oh,” the clerk interjected and when we glanced back, she was fanning herself with her hand. “The dog…”
“He’s with us,” I said as I glanced at Barnaby.
“I don’t think he’s allowed in the tea room,” the clerk explained though it was clear she didn’t think she should have to explain.
“I’ll leave him in my room, then,” I replied.
“Are you sure he wouldn’t be more comfortable in the stables?” the clerk pressed.
“I’m sure,” I snapped, and the clerk jumped back.
I couldn’t believe we were back on that topic, but Freya touched my arm, and I realized I was probably still operating on a lot of adrenaline. I took a calming breath, counted to ten in my head, then nodded politely to the clerk. Freya and I climbed back upstairs to our rooms, and I shooed the large dog inside where he promptly climbed up onto the bed and started to snore.
When I turned around, I saw that Freya’s door was open. I walked over to the patch of sunlight from her window and peered inside. The room was identical to mine except the bed cover was in a pale blue. Freya had dumped the contents of her satchel onto the bed and was picking through it despondently.
“I guess gramps didn’t think to pack another hat for me,” she said without looking up.
“Do you want to wear mine for now?” I asked as I pulled the hat off and wondered why I hadn’t thought of that before.
The rabbit woman looked up and studied the drover’s hat in my hand. With a sigh, she strode over and plucked the soft felt from my hands, then placed it on her head. It nearly covered her eyes, but Freya laughed and tilted the brim up in front so she could wink at me.
“I’ll definitely be able to hide in this thing,” she declared. “Maybe you should be the one to borrow one of Sorcha’s hats.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d look ridiculous with one of those perched on my head,” I snorted. “This one is just a loaner, until we can find you one of your own.”
“Uh-huh,” Freya snickered as she closed and locked the door.
She strutted all the way to the stairs, even though the hat kept tipping forward over her face. With as much grace as she could muster, she managed to climb down the steps even though the hat must have blocked most of her view every time she glanced down at the steps. I tried not to snicker as I watched the mutant walk slowly downstairs, but she finally made it to the bottom and pushed the hat back once again.
We passed the desk, where Emma the parrot was once again in charge, and turned down the hall to the ‘Conference Rooms’. We passed several doors with designations like ‘Lackawanna Room’ and ‘Wilkes Annex’, then turned right when the hallway abruptly ended.
The tea room, as promised, was at the end, in a glass-enclosed room that smelled vaguely of tea leaves and soil. Strange plants with long roots that hung down from wood frames and purple and yellow flowers with frilled edges filled the space while giant ferns in pots provided screens between the tables. The room was full, and the gentle buzz of quiet conversations and the clink of teacups filled the air. It was hard to believe that we’d just escaped from a dose of weeper’s mist, or that angry protesters had been gathered just a few short blocks from here.
The hostess had spotted us and started toward us, but Freya’s nose twitched and she tugged me toward the far side of the tea room. The rabbit woman led me to a table next to the wall of windows, which looked out on what would probably be a lovely garden during the summer. But at the moment, covered in snow and with only a few narrow paths cleared away, it looked more like what my mom always called a ‘winter wonderland’.
I only spared a single glance for the view though, because Sorcha and Darwin were at the table, a pot of hot tea between them. Two more spots had been set, but more interesting was the fifth setting, complete with a half-eaten sandwich and a still steaming cup of tea, that sat between Sorcha and Darwin.
“You made it,” the Irish mage proclaimed when she saw us. “We were starting to think we would have to send out a search party.”
“We got caught in the crowd trying to run away from the weeper’s mist,” I explained as Freya and I sat down.
“We were afraid you might have been hit with it,” Freya added.
“We nearly were,” Darwin mused. “But Sorcha here sensed that the police were about to move, so we had started to walk away. We were hoping to find you two, but then they released the tear gas, er, weeper’s mist, and all hell broke loose.”
“Everyone just started to run in every direction,” the Irishwoman sighed. “It was pandemonium.”
“Same where we were,” Freya agreed. “I even lost my hat.”
“That explains the new look,” Sorcha said as she studied the mutant. “It looks really good on you, though it would work better if it didn’t keep slipping down.”
“I guess I’ll be forced to go hat shopping,” Freya sighed, though it was hard to miss the smile that flashed across her lips.
“I do have that hat I picked up in Short Hills,” Sorcha offered. “Though it’s really more of a summer hat. It wouldn’t do much to keep you warm, and with winter on its way, you’ll probably want something heavier.”
“Oh, definitely,” Freya quickly agreed.
Both women smiled at each other, and then turned toward me.
“I do have some money,” Sorcha mused.
“I have just a little,” Freya added.
“Yes, fine,” I agreed. “I’ll figure out what we can spare.”
“You know, I have some as well,” the ex-trooper finally interrupted.
“Of course you do, gramps,” his granddaughter agreed. “And you can contribute as well.”
Darwin shook his head but signalled to one of the waitresses instead of responding to the suggestion. The waitress tottered over on a pair of impossibly high heels and smiled at the new arrivals.
“Another plate of sandwiches,” Darwin ordered. “And fresh tea.”
The woman nodded and tottered away.
“So who else is joining us?” I asked as I nodded toward the last spot at the table.
“The owner,” Sorcha explained. “She’s old… er, like Darwin.”
“It’s okay, you can call us old,” the older man snorted. “We are old. Anyway, she was in the front hall when we returned, taking care of any guests that might have been caught up in the ‘horror.’ I recognized her voice right away. She used to be a dispatcher for the Pennsylvania State Police. We used to coordinate with her back in the day.”
“Wow,” I noted. “What are the odds?”
“Well, better than you’d think,” Darwin admitted. “I used to know a lot of the people in the Scranton area, and it was one of the reasons I liked the idea of coming here.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Freya asked curiously.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to find anyone,” Darwin explained. “And even if I did, there was no reason for them to help us. Besides, we aren’t st
aying long, so it wasn’t that important. It was more of a crap shoot, really, and to be honest, I couldn’t believe it when I recognized her.”
“You should have seen her reaction,” the Irishwoman added. “She practically leapt into his arms.”
“She did not,” the older man denied.
“I did so,” a woman with a perfect coif of white hair, piercing golden eyes, and a figure trim enough to make a twenty-something jealous declared as she stepped up to the table.
Both Darwin and I started to stand but the woman waved us back into our chairs as she took a seat at the empty spot.
“This is my granddaughter, Freya,” Darwin said, “and this our other traveling companion, Hex Theriot.”
“I’m glad to see you’re all right,” the lady said as she poured out tea for myself and Freya before refreshing her own cup. “I was all set to send the hands out to find you when Darwin said you had been separated during the demonstration, but he insisted we should give you time to return here on your own. He said his granddaughter would know what to do.”
“That she did,” I agreed as the rabbit woman glanced shyly at her cup.
“And this amazing woman is Genevieve Apple,” Darwin continued. “Viv, around the station. She was just explaining what was going on in the city right now.”
“I’m a bit surprised that so many people are opposed to the train,” I stated. “I mean, they had one in York you could ride around the tunnels for fun and no one protested that.”
“Yes, but that one was supported by the mages,” Viv explained. “As a way to show people how bad and inconvenient trains really were. No one is offering to turn it into a full service that would carry goods and people to destinations outside the city.”
“Which is what the one here does,” Sorcha added.
“Well, hopefully it will,” Viv mused. “It’s just had the one run and that was a success, though they had a few problems along the way.”
“Like what?” I asked, genuinely curious as to what problems could befall a train.
“Well, someone had pulled up part of the rail,” the older woman replied after a sip of her tea. “And either one of the workers didn’t make sure that all of the cars were securely fastened, or someone else managed to loosen the connection without being caught. In either case, several of the cars were left behind at about the halfway point.”
“That’s not good,” Freya commented as she tried to sip her tea without the hat falling over her face.
“Viv was telling us that the protesters fit into one of two categories,” the ex-trooper added. “There’s the usual pro-Magesterium lot who are opposed to anything that smacks of old technology.”
“And threatens the livelihood of some of its members,” Sorcha noted.
“And then the more mundane group that fears the train will siphon away their business,” Darwin concluded. “I gather they teamed up and joined forces for that demonstration at the Tower Block today.”
“We never did make it inside the Dunder Mifflin building,” I sighed.
Viv snorted so hard she had to set her cup down on the table.
“Lord, I do regret that,” the one-time dispatcher laughed. “It was a bit of a lark when I first suggested using the old Scranton sign from the mall, and then when someone found that old promotional sign from some long forgotten Office festival, well, it seemed natural enough to reuse it. I thought it would be a signal of sorts to other old timers like myself. Sadly, most people these days miss out on the joke.”
“Gramps caught it,” the rabbit woman said quickly. “And he did try to explain it to us.”
“Something about a man burning his foot,” I added.
“The smell of bacon in the morning,” Viv and Darwin said together before bursting out into laughter.
“Oh, dear,” Viv said as she wiped a tear away. “Some days I think I’m just fine with the world we ended up with, but there are moments when I really miss everything we had.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Darwin agreed.
“Well, I know travel these days isn’t a simple undertaking,” the older woman continued. “So what brings you four all the way to Scranton?”
“It’s a long story,” Darwin sighed. “Let’s just say we’ve gotten on the wrong side of the mages. But we heard about the train from some fellow travelers and thought we could save ourselves some time and trouble if we could get on board.”
“That’s a tough one,” Viv sighed. “They’re not letting very many people onboard for these trial runs.”
“That’s what we heard earlier today,” Sorcha agreed. “And that’s why we went to the Tower Block, actually. We were told the company’s offices were there. We hoped to convince whoever is in charge of passes to give us some.”
“They probably would have sent you to see Duke,” Viv sniffed. “You wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with him. No, if you want on that train you need to speak to one of the owners.”
“And how do we do that?” the ex-trooper asked.
Before Viv could respond, the waitress arrived at our table with a plate of thick sandwiches, a bowl of piping hot potato chips, four more cups, and another pot of tea that smelled suspiciously alcoholic.
“I changed the order a little,” Viv explained as the waitress started to unload the tray.
Somehow, the waitress managed to place everything on the table without accident despite the fact that she was swaying in her shoes. When she was finally done, I did a quick study of the revised order and was happy to see that the small finger sandwiches that had been served earlier had been replaced with thick slices of beef on toasted rolls and that the chips came with a bottle of vinegar.
I snatched a couple of the sandwiches and scooped plenty of chips onto my plate while the inn’s owner poured us each a cup of the new tea. The sandwich was tangy, with a bit of horseradish in the sauce, but the chips stole the show. They were crispy, perfectly salted, and soaked up the splash of vinegar without losing any of their crunch. I could have eaten the entire bowl by myself but I made myself wait until everyone else had taken a scoop before refilling my own plate.
“Oh, what--” Sorcha stammered as she sipped the tea. “Um, this is really, really good, but not what I was expecting.”
“It’s an old drink,” Viv replied. “It’s called a Last Stop Darjeeling.”
After that reaction, I had to try the drink. I sipped at my cup, and wasn’t surprised to catch the taste of alcohol along with the tea. But like Sorcha, I found the concoction to be really tasty. I picked out bitters and lemon, and something dry and nutty. After another sip, I caught a hint of sweetness as well.
“I guess we needed this after the day we’ve had so far,” Freya laughed.
“And the day’s not over yet,” I pointed out.
“We still need passes,” Sorcha agreed.
“Well, I might be able to help with that,” the one time dispatcher murmured over the edge of her cup. “I happen to know two of the three owners personally, and I’m on good terms with the third.”
“You always did know everybody,” Darwin chuckled. “I’ll never forget that story about the time the new commissioner was welcoming the governor to the station and the governor spent most of the time catching up on news and gossip with you.”
“That story was greatly exaggerated,” Viv sniffed. “He only spent half of his time with me.”
“Then you can get us passes,” Freya declared in excitement.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Viv said quickly. “But I can get you in to see one or more of the owners. The fact that you’re my friends will count for something, but these are businessmen, after all. They’ll want something in return.”
An image came to me of a dimly lit room filled with men in suits sitting in leather armchairs, all of whom laughed as I opened up my money pouch and dumped its paltry contents onto the table. I shook my head to dislodge the scene, and caught the arched eyebrow Sorcha cast at me.
“We don’t have a lot of mo
ney,” I replied.
“Oh, it doesn’t have to be money,” Viv laughed. “Just something that helps their business.”
“I’m sure we could come up with something,” Darwin noted. “We’re a rather talented group.”
“Mmmm,” Viv snickered.
“So what do we do in the meantime?” Freya asked. “Besides shop for hats.”
“Oh, do you need a new hat?” Viv demanded. “I know just the place.”
“Uh--h,” Freya stuttered as she glanced at her grandfather.
“Trust me, you’ll love it,” Viv insisted. “It’s got every kind of hat imaginable and they won’t bother you unless you ask for help.”
“I do like the sound of that,” Freya admitted.
“It’s called Bree’s Emporium,” Viv continued. “It’s on the other side of town, so you might want to take a cab, but if you do walk, you’ll pass some other wonderful stores along the way that I just know you’ll want to stop in.”
Freya had sunk a little lower into her chair, and I could tell she was uncomfortable with the idea of walking into so many stores. For the first time, I realized that the rabbit woman’s shopping expeditions had probably been limited to things like visiting the general store, where she wouldn’t have to worry about exposing her ears or tail to someone outside the family.
“That sounds great,” Sorcha interjected. “Maybe we could take the horses, just to give them a chance to move about and then we could make tons of stops without having to worry about cab fare.”
“Oh, yes, that would be fine,” Viv agreed. The dispatcher glanced up from the table then, and I saw a frown crease her brow for a moment. She took another long sip of her tea that drained the cup, then dabbed delicately at her lips. “It seems I’m desperately needed for something, if Magda’s frantic hand signals are anything to go by, but you stay and finish your meal. Charles, dear, I’ll look forward to talking to you again, maybe this evening?”