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Stories from the Verse
Con Version
Chapter 150: Takano 131
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Brown 335
That evening Tommy packed her things, said good-bye to the room that had been her home for a few weeks, and dropped off her key. She let Brian know that she was moving into the new home, and taking the small bedroom at the top of the stairs. She liked it not merely because it would be easy to enter and exit quickly and quietly, but because it had apparently been decorated for a daughter. Brian offered to get her a cab, but she said she could use the exercise and wanted to familiarize herself more with the city.
Having said that, it occurred to her that she should make the trip as Truth. Slipping behind her now vacant cabin she pulled out the leather coat, utility belt, fur hat, mask, and kawanaga that made up her alter ego. Carrying the pack on her back and the computer case under her arm certainly impeded her ability to do any stunts, but if necessary she could stash these and deal with trouble she encountered.
Whether it was a quiet night or she just happened upon a safe path, she reached the manse without incident. Letting herself in and turning on the lights in the halls, she moved into the bedroom and unpacked some of her things, tossing her groundcloth and sleeping bag over the mattress of the unmade bed and putting her clothes in the dresser drawers. She wished she had a hanger for the party dress, but it had traveled in the backpack for a few worlds now and could survive being folded in the dresser.
She then realized that she was hungry, and that there would be no food in the house at all. She went down to the kitchen and looked through cabinets, and realized that it was worse than that–they had no dishes, no tableware, no cookware, no pots or pans. Furnished obviously meant furniture and appliances, but for the moment if she wanted to cook something she would be using her mess kit.
At least she could wash it in the sink.
There was nothing for it. Checking the cash in her pocket, she set out to find a place to eat. She was still dressed as Truth, but her costume did not include gloves or covering over her mouth, so she could feed herself without revealing her identity.
She found a pizza place, ordered a couple slices and lemon-lime soda, and took a booth about half way back. She sat facing the large glass windows up front, decided that particularly after today it was appropriate to give thanks before eating, and picked up her first slice.
A familiar costumed character came in. “Hi, girlfriend,” Robinette said. “Mind if I join you?”
Tommy smiled. “As long as you’re not in the midst of the commission of a crime.”
“No, not tonight. I’m just doing information gathering. I hear someone just rented the manse at the Presbyterian Church near here.”
“Oh, that would be me,” Truth admitted. “Well, me and my Uncle Brian; he makes enough to afford it, so I’m just paying a bit to stay with him. Please, have a seat. If I knew you were coming, I’d have ordered a whole pie.”
“That’s all right; I’ve got it. Luigi, two slices and the house red,” she said.
“Robinette, you know we don’t have a liquor license.”
“Sigh,” she said facetiously. “I guess a cola will have to do. So, does your uncle know who you are?”
“It’s complicated. Obviously he does, but he pretends he doesn’t.”
“Oh, kind of like us. I get it. So anything exciting recently?”
“I’m excited about moving. But I suppose the big news is that I helped capture someone called Gorillaxe or something goofy like that. I didn’t really do that much. Most of it was Mister Justice and, what was her name? Indian woman with animal powers.”
“Sockajawea?”
“Yeah, that was her. What about you?”
“Not much. I hear Doctor Cutter is planning a party, lots of high society bigwigs and government people. He’s trying to forge connections, I expect, but I figure there will be a lot of wealthy guests. I’m not sure whether to hit the party or get the guest list and visit some temporarily vacant homes.”
“Well, don’t tell me,” Truth said, and took another bite of her pizza, then tried to speak around her half-full mouth, “I wouldn’t want to have to try to stop you.”
“That’s fair. You want dessert? Luigi makes a decent cannoli.”
Her mouth full again, she just nodded. Then swallowing she said, “Thanks.”
Robinette ordered, and in a moment Luigi brought over two of the crispy sweetened ricotta-filled pastries. Tommy had to admit it was unexpectedly good.
“Obviously,” she said, “you come here often.”
“Well, once in a while. I’m memorable. And he doesn’t report me. Plus, he makes good food. You should try his baked ziti sometime. He usually makes it Fridays and Saturdays in time for the dinner crowd, serves it with garlic bread.”
Truth finished her food and ordered another soda. She was done, but she really didn’t want to go home to the empty house, and Robinette didn’t seem to be in a hurry. They sat chatting for a while, until Luigi interrupted them.
“Sorry, girls. Wife is waiting, I need to close up and clean up and get home.”
“But Luigi, you are home. You live upstairs.”
“Upstairs is home; downstairs is work. Is a short commute, but I keep my life ordered that way.”
Again Robinette said, “Sigh,” confirming Tommy’s conclusion that the previous one was facetious. She put some change on the table for a tip, to which Tommy added a bit.
“Well, this has been fun,” Tommy said; “and you know my new address. I don’t know if we’re going to have a phone, but you know where to find me.”
They parted on the sidewalk, Tommy walking back to the new mostly empty house, again thinking they were very odd friends, but with her life any friend she had would be very odd.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
