Chapter Thirteen: The Negotiators — Part 2

Jynx follows Arpie more out of curiosity than anything else. She and Daria had spent fifteen minutes listening to his discourse on property boundaries, and then had to listen to it again when ChoCho and Kevin showed up. One thing nobody has said in the past, but which is obvious to her now, is how two distinct truths are possible based on where George moved all of them in. The first thing she thinks of is that they were moved here because George thought they would have some protection from prying eyes. However, given George’s recent ignorance of property boundaries and legal issues, Jynx is now quite certain that George moved them here because somebody else, concerned for their influence on the now crippled community, thought it would be best to keep them off the incorporated main. Maybe nobody but Arpie knew about the boundary issue. If so, Jynx thinks it must have been fortunate that she and her friends were set up here while Arpie was sleeping off his emotional collapse.

The distinct sound of growling pulls her mind to her eyes, which are focused on Gryphon, who apparently recognizes Arpie. Arpie slows down considerably, smiling without showing any teeth, speaks to Jon quietly.

“How is the little guy?” Arpie asks.

“He’s pissed, obviously. I think we can rule out concussion. He’s keen enough to remember your boot size well enough.” Jon’s low voice is soothing, and she chortles at Gryphon, who, if only because Jon is there, slowly starts to calm down.

Arpie reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small piece of jerked venison, peels back a strip of the salty, oily meat with his teeth, and offers the bigger part to Gryphon. Gryphon growls a bit, but Arpie holds his hand out with the meat at the very end of his fingertips until Gryphon finally surrenders and takes the treat. The little dog then gingerly takes the finger sized strip, puts it between his paws, and begins pulling off strips of it, chewing each of them slowly, as if savoring it. He looks up at Arpie a couple of times, but other than a few furtive moments of growling judgment, Gryphon seems to calm down, and when Gryphon’s done eating, Arpie gently strokes the small dog’s head. Gryphon chooses to humor the attention.

“Is Gryphon going to be okay?” Jynx asks.

“I rotated every joint from his toes to his tail to his nose while Teri listened with a stethoscope. We didn’t hear anything clicking, and everything feels symmetrical and aligned.” Jon says this while stroking Gryphon’s back. Gryphon, for his part, is focused on chewing the last strip of meat with a slow languor not common in most dogs. “I’m guessing that the only thing seriously injured on this little guy is his pride.” She pauses in her thoughts, chuckling. “We’ll check on him before we leave in the morning, maybe even take him into work with us if he’s still gimping around.”

“I gotta go guys.” Arpie says suddenly. “I got two pissed off dumb asses in separate cells back at the offices. If George gets back from being stupid, tell him I’ll try to have his boy out by midnight tonight at the latest. Of course we both know that’s entirely up to Duke Gay Pride and Daddy Dearest.”

Arpie pats Gryphon gently on the head one more time, then turns to leave, Opus on his left side, and Jynx on his right. He looks slyly at the girl who is wearing all black today. She’s walking steadily with him, keeping her pace with Opus’ long stride. Her thick soled black patent shoes click faintly on the concrete, Arpie suspects because she’s placed taps in the heals to give her step some intent. Even her stockings are solid black today, as is all the lace and tulle on her knee length skirt and long sleeve blouse.

“So you coming into town for a brawl, or you just tagging along for your health?” Arpie asks.

“Just going to check up on Jude, if that’s all right with you.” Jynx says curtly. “ChoCho asked me to because he’s too sore to do any more walking today.”

“I imagine you’d check up on him even if it wasn’t all right with me.” Arpie says almost dismissively, thinking damn I could really use a bowl of that sweet green right now.

“You have an accurate imagination.” Jynx says, taking a pipe out of pocket and lighting it up.

Opus laughs loudly. It’s a deceptive laugh, high pitched and unexpected. “She’s funny.” He says.

Arpie can’t tell if it’s because of the thick smoke trailing in the humid air behind her, or the fact that her pipe looks like a rose smoldering from within, or even because she’s made a smart-alecky comment that for some reason gets right under his skin. He forces himself to laugh like Opus does, and suddenly he’s more relaxed. The sweet scent coming off her pipe isn’t pot, but she offers it to Arpie just the same. Arpie pulls deeply on the pipe, and the powerful smoke fills his mouth, lungs and nose, causing an almost instantaneous nicotine rush. He hands the fragile feeling churchwarden back to her, and the threesome walks on undisturbed and in peace, which lasts up until they are within earshot of Arpie’s offices.

Arpie can hear the argument from about two hundred feet out, and he just shakes his head. Jude and the man he’s called Daddy Dearest — whose real name is Franklin — are still at each other’s throats, even with ten feet and two sets of steel bars between them. He can hear things being thrown back and forth, and wishes his stun gun hadn’t quit working with the Storm. He’d always loved the way it made stupid people flop like fish and wake up thinking.

Arpie turns back to Opus and Jynx, looking a little uncomfortable, like a father who’s come home with his boss only to find his family engaged in the chaos that happens naturally from time to time. “You guys mind if I go in alone first?”

“Uh, no, not at all.” Jynx says, sounding like she’d rather be anywhere in the world but in the room with the yelling and screaming stupid people.

Arpie throws open the door and starts shouting almost immediately. “Knock it off you two.” He slams the door behind him, and both men stop yelling almost immediately.

Within the room, nearly everything that can be thrown from cell to cell has been tossed about, most of it ending up at odds and ends around the offices. All Arpie can do now is assess the damage and make sure that neither of his detainees have been permanently harmed. Somehow, Arpie’s favorite coffee mug has been knocked to the ground and shattered, his clock has been thrown off the desk, and paperwork is everywhere, some of it gashed open in lines. He’s wondering how this is possible, until he sees the rather ingenious sling shot Jude has made of his bedsprings and the prison bars. For the first time since before the Storm, Arpie is feeling one solid emotion. There isn’t a trace of fear in his mind, just a deep-seated well balanced rage that he finds himself swallowing even as he turns on his inmates.

Fucking engineers. Arpie almost says under his breath, but then he starts to chuckle from his own memories.

Since he can’t have that, he focuses instead on the two dumb asses in detainment, and on what they’ve done to his offices. His words, as they develop, will have to be well considered, because he knows damn well that every letter will be slow to be heard, and slower to sink in.