I headed out the door and faintly heard Dante and Rosey going back and forth again. Wendell followed behind me. We stood on the porch as he closed the door and glared down at me. His tone immediately became much more serious. I could tell he wanted to yell but needed to keep his voice down due to the others in the lodge. So instead he added a low growl from his gritted teeth, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!?”
I was a bit scared at first but couldn’t quite understand, “Uhm… there’s not anything saying I can’t go get a small job right? Like for extra cash?”
The hair raises a bit more on Wendell, “Not THAT.” He pulls up one side of his shirt to reveal a large bandage over his ribcage and gestures to it, “THIS.”
I stare down at the bandage. The surface of it was tinted with fresh red blood. I grew more confused, “What? What happened?”
He shoves his shirt back over the wound as he growls with more furry in his eyes, “We had a deal didn’t we? You follow my script I sent you and do what it says WHEN it says to. I woke with a broken kitchen knife wedged between the floorboards and the corner of my sheets wrapped around my leg. You’re lucky I fell off to the side of the knife a couple inches. You’re not supposed to even attempt to kill me for another month! Or you won’t be getting away without booking a lifetime in jail.”
I started to panic, “I-I didn’t do anything though! I swear! That wasn’t me. Maybe it was someone else you hired!”
He folds his arms with a huff, “I already talked to them and it has to be someone here.”
I speak up a bit, “Wh-what if it’s an outsider? Someone not staying in the lodge. I mean you don’t have security cameras or locks on the doors. Anyone could have walked in while we were all asleep.”
Wendell pauses a moment to think, “Well whoever the fuck it is won’t be hearing the end of it from me when I get my hands on them… You didn’t have any more lost strays like Rosey that followed you up here did you?”
I shook my head, “Well not anyone that isn’t from here. I saw someone at night though.”
His interest peaks, “Ok? And who were they?”
I nervously looked off to the side, “They called themselves the Herald of Hoaxes.”
All of the interest in his eyes drain into a hollow annoyance. His tone flattens as well, “...Herald of Hoaxes… are you hearing yourself right now? You know teens and thugs in this area pull bullshit like that all the time. You don’t actually believe that someone would be born with a melodramatic name like that right?”
“I’m telling the truth. They showed up in the backyard last night and threatened me to find your weakness by the next full moon. Not to mention they had a set of real wings capable of flight separate from their normal arms. No nonferal bird looks like that. They only every have those weird hand wings that fumble around with the feathe-”
Wendell waves his hand at me as he interrupts, “I know I know! I know what a bird nonferal looks like. I seriously doubt this guy is legit though. I mean it could be fake wings or arms or uhm… maybe you were seeing things?”
I shook my head, “I know what I saw.”
Wendell sighs heavily as he grumbles under his own breath. He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Ok. So we have a butler, a woman who will not shut up, a superstitious hippie, “ he gestures to me as I glare at him, “and now a homeless guy in the backyard making threats for my weakness.”
I grumble a bit, “It’s not a homeless guy.”
He ignores the comment and continues. The fluctuations he gives now however are exaggerated as if he’s starting to bend a bit under all the pressure. He laughs, “So just give him a weakness. I’m allergic to poison! How about that? Maybe even a gun! I’m really weak to a 9 millimeter!”
I narrowed my eyes at him, “Are some people not?”
He scoffs, “NO. Look if that’s not good enough of an answer for them then I don’t know what you tell them. That’s a weakness.”
I tilt my head some, “But if everyone is weak to those then why would they even ask? They must be looking for something more unique to you. They could mean a more emotional weakness. Something more internal.”
Wenell nods, “And this is why you’re a superstitious hippie.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. If guns or poison don't work I’ll tell them you have a sensitive ego.”
Wendell seems to want to snap back with a remark but refrains as to not further cement the comment, “Fine. Just tell them that, tell them to leave the property for good next time you see them, and never talk to me about the job I gave you again, got it?”
“Well could I ask you why-”
Wendell growls, “NO. Do I make myself clear?”
I sigh and nod as he opens the front door again. He looks back at me for one last comment, “Oh. And go find something else to wear. You look homeless.”
I glare back with resentment before turning and heading out to town.
It was still a fresh morning. As I walked down the path to the sidewalks of the town, I felt a cool calming breeze. The morning air was chilly and quiet. The town was vastly different from how it was at night. It was busy but slow. People took their time setting back out signs for their shops and seating for cafes. Potted plants and decorations were back out. Even small bees and butterflies in the area were used to the routine. A few of them came out to see the plants set out.
All of it made me feel like I could finally breathe a little easier now. But some things still weighed on my consciousness. Remembering last night still scared me but not nearly as much anymore. I was more awake now and had a whole day to research it. But Wendell’s last comment on my clothing and Dante mentioning first impressions reminded me of my attire. Pajama pants and a shirt weren’t exactly taken seriously so I needed to find something more like what I was used to wearing while I was out and about.
It didn’t take too long to find what I was looking for. By 10am I was stepping out of a local clothing outlet, now wearing a baggy sweater and pre-ripped jeans. The holes of the jeans are covered with an extra layer of cloth to not actually show any skin or fur. The ends tucked into a pair of combat boots similar to Rosey’s. The ones Rosey borrowed indefinitely. In my hands was also a bag of extra clothes in a similar style so I wouldn’t seem strange wearing the same clothing day in and day out.
Leaving the store however my shoes felt more uneven again. The money I had stashed in my shoe was almost gone. Only a few bills were left. At this point I think I may actually need at least a parttime job just to get small things as food, water, and shelter were already covered. But the thing showing up last night seemed a more pressing matter. So I roamed the streets of town in search of a library.