Coming Home

After the last week, all that I can look forward to is coming home to my beautiful wife and child, of course my own bed, a hot shower and some home cooked food would be nice too. I am still not well after having been dealt a crushing blow to my chest during that recent battle with that elemental. Then being cooped up in that run-down hotel for several days reminded me of life at the Renton Ambassador Suites, where I first met Pariah. If I thought that place was bad, the freighter was even worse.

If it wasn’t for some sane conversation with Banshee, I think I would go stir crazy. I know that the others don’t care for her much, but if we have to stay together for this journey, I might as well make the best of it. She isn’t the worst person in the world, and besides that we have a lot in common. I don’t know if its the fact that I am not currently wearing my wedding ring, or more likely that it has been a while since Sitra and I danced in the sheets, but I have some stirrings in my loins for Moire. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was in this freighter with my friends sitting all around me, who knows what would have happened.

A couple of days into our journey, Red fell comatose. She seems to be in good health, and has stable vital signs, but without the proper equipment or the foggiest knowledge of her condition, there is nothing I can do about it. We’ll have to wait until we return to Seattle before something further can be done to help her.

After three days, the odors of body odor and waste start to become overwhelming and I just wish we could crack open the doors to the freight car to get some fresh air, but of course the doors are locked and open from the outside.

After what seems like an eternity, we finally get back to Seattle. Ah, the fresh air is nice. In our condition, there is no way we would be able to go to my apartment, even though it is just a few blocks away, without having LoneStar breathing down our necks. I telephone Sitra to find out where she and the baby are and when she answers, I can hear Chips say “pepperoni” in the background. I guess that answers my question. I let her know that we will be there soon. Moire and the others that had accompanied us part ways. We exchange contact numbers in case we want to meet up again.

While waiting for a pick up, up comes this luxury sedan. Out steps a man with long black hair, dark clothes and pale white skin. I can literally hear Rook swallow and then realize who this man is. He tells us that he is the only one that can help Red. We are all a little bit leary, okay a lot a bit, leary of him, but what other choice do we have. He promises she will be safely returned to us by noon tomorrow at the Clubhouse.

We arrive at the Clubhouse in the wee hours of the morning and before jumping into the sheets I take a nice long shower and repeat it with another one immediately thereafter to remove the grime that had accumulated. My wedding ring is on the nightstand. Prisha sleeps in a crib soundly nearby. In the morning, at brunch, Sitra suggests that we have a homecoming celebration tonight and says that she will make all the arrangements for a “fiesta” to celebrate Prisha’s one month birthday that I missed and our return. Speaking of Prisha, it is funny how much time Chips spends doting over her and of course trying to feed her pizza. Maybe they have some kinship that I don’t quite understand.

While Sitra is out to get food and fun for tonight’s event, Rook receives a phone call. When he mentions 5pm at the Palace of China Restaurant, in Tacoma, my mind flashes back to when I was beat up in the parking lot there, and tossed into the dumpster when walking home from the libary one night.

My mind flashes back to the current time, and I guess I might not get the rest my body needs and hopefully our fiesta isn’t delayed too much.

Coming Home

The DV8's angelonio