“You do,” I assured him quite calmly. “That is why I am here.”
“How are you acquainted with any of them?” He asked quite seriously, and only
then did his eyes seem to notice my hair, which was blue all over except for its still
black tips. “You’re quite the odd one.” He admitted, while he was far from what anyone
would deem as ′normal′. “And I do not need my bigger glasses to see that.”
“Here. This is for you,” I tried to hand him my big notebook, the one that had been
resting safely beside me. Almost falling out of it was a whole compendium of drawings
and other poorly attached notes. “Father wanted you to have it.” I nudged it towards
him. “He also wanted me to go with you.”
“Father, you say?” He cautiously asked as he refused the offer, “I am afraid I will have
to doubt that. You see little one, I am not one with many friends, let alone associates.”
He then took a few steps back “No, you must be mistaken. But fret not, you may
accompany me back to my place, if you so wish of course. After all, it is not proper to
leave one so small and meek behind, especially in a place like this. Old Gorliochi over
there,” His eyes went straight towards that beast; this one was completely relaxed even
if its jaws kept finding one thing or another to chew on, “he can easily carry the both
of us for as long as necessary. He has been with me for many seasons now, lending a
hand in the carrying of all sorts of things.”
He smiled, but it was a ruse that could not hope to work on the likes of one such as
me. “Like all sorts of flowers and fungi that I so often like to come and find in these
parts... Or even -”
“You are no mere flower picker or mushroom gatherer.” I said as I kept forcing that
notebook onto him. “Go on, take it. You are the Thinker-Tinker, and you are meant
to read it.”
A short silence stood between the two of us ...
“Your father, who is he then?” He eventually asked, even if his interests appeared
to be dwindling the more he was going through those notes and drawings, “I know
many of the names inscribed here.” He kept confessing, as he tipped his glasses just
Stolen novel; please report.
in time to prevent them from falling off his curved nose; and then he looked at me
with refulgent eyes: “Some of these people, they are in these drawings of yours as well!
And this man here; a Kharn. He is my friend. A dear one.”
“That is Father,” I said to his amazement ...
A long pause took over his person.
Many of his past fears but also promises came to haunt him, and without a
moment’s notice, his head became occupied with all sorts of questions and possibilities.
There were so many ′If ’s′ and ′Buts′ and ′What’s′ swirling in his mind - and in
the end all I heard him think to himself was: “This is likely to bring me quite the
unwanted trouble, but if there is any chance of truth to it, at all; of a real connection
between this little one and that ol’ fool... What choice do I have?”
“Who are you girl?” his eyes swelled up as he confronted me again, “and how did
you get your hands on all this?”
“As I said, all of it was wrought by my hand.”
“You wrote...” His eyes travelled between note and drawing alike “all this?
What made you do such a thing?” He asked with his eyes now trembling with
restlessness.
“And then you will read it?”
“Oh, I most definitely will. The spark of curiosity has already been lit inside me.”
He then reassured me further, “My interest has already peaked way past the point of
arousal, don’t you worry.” And after he weighed all of it with both hands; “But I will
have to do so back at my place. You understand that this is quite a lot to go through?”
“Quite,” I replied after I added a few extra notes I had on my person.
“Besides, I don’t have my reading glasses on me.” He added somewhat flippantly
“I mean why would I bring them; you know? It’s not like I get to meet little girls
carrying tomes for me regularly.”
I nodded in concordance, and then he suggested we should make haste. Insisting, as
we made our way to that beast, that I should tell him, or rather prepare him, for what
could be in store inside that notebook.
