Volume Ten
Chapter
Seven
Pokin’
and Pryin’
In which Dodger digs a little deeper
“Well?”
Torque said. “He obviously knows something. Follow the man.”
Dodger
pushed the door, holding it open for Lelanea to pass through. He motioned to
Torque. “Come on then.”
Torque
whizzed past Dodger with a whistling snort.
Dodger
shook his head as he followed the others outside.
The
town had formed a semicircle around the inn, listening to the words of their
mayor.
“So
just get back to work, folks,” White said. “And let them get back to theirs.
Don’t bother them.” He took a long draw on his cigar before he added, “At all.”
With
that last stress of a command, the crowd dispersed, leaving the mayor alone on
the steps with the newcomers. Though, not for long, considering the mayor was
well on his way to wandering off again.
“Mayor
White,” Lelanea said before the man could get away again. “This is important.
Do you have the PAUL or not?”
The
mayor looked over his shoulder at her. “It was destroyed. In an accident.”
Lelanea
did her best to hide her disappointment. “Then he is no longer functional?”
“No.
It is not. As I already tried to explain.”
“How
unfortunate. Well, I suppose that is that.”
“What
happened to him?” Dodger asked.
“Arnold,”
Lelanea said. “They don’t have what we need. We should leave these nice people
alone and move along.”
“What
happened?” Dodger said again.
“Arnold.”
“No,”
Mayor White said, turning about to face them again. “The man is curious. Tell
me, sir, if I sate that curiosity, can we all get on with our respective lives?”
“Sounds
good to me,” Dodger said.
“Fine
then. The infernal machine got itself buried under twenty feet of rock and
stone. Where it remains, to this day.”
Dodger
looked toward the cliffs in the distance. “What kind of accident can bury a
machine like that?”
Lelanea
didn’t call Dodger down on that one. Instead, she turned her attention to
White.
The
mayor chewed on his cigar as he eyed Dodger. “I’m afraid I don’t know all of
the details. Now, again, if you folks will excuse me, I have a town to run.” Mayor
White walked off and left the newcomers standing around on their own.
“What
an odd man,” Lelanea said.
“He’s
more than just odd,” Dodger said. “He’s full of it.”
Lelanea
stepped closer to Dodger, lowering her voice to a whisper as well. “You think
the honorable mayor is lying?”
“I
do.”
“I
thought as much, too.” She smiled and nodded at a passing couple.
Dodger
scratched his chin, using his hand to cup his whisper toward her. “Boy I sure
miss underspeak.”
“As
do I.” She drew closer to him, until her breath lay hot on his ear. “Do you think
the machine is here?”
Dodger
almost shuddered at the intimate proximity. He turned his head to whisper, “Let’s
just say I have a hunch that it isn’t as destroyed as he lets on.”
Lelanea
thought on this for a moment, then placed an arm affectionately around his
shoulder, pulling him to her in a fake hug.
Dodger
dithered as to where to place his eager hands.
“My
waist,” Lelanea said, as if sensing his moral quandary.
He
did as commanded, placing his hands just above her shapely hips.
“I
don’t want to doubt your hunch,” she said, “but do you really think it’s worth
wasting time here to find out? Every extra minute we tarry puts us behind. Rex
expects us in just a few days.”
“I
realize that,” he said, “but if PAUL is half as massive as the professor claims,
we not only want him on our side, we need him. Especially now that monster has
monsters of his own. Rex expects us, but he won’t expect what we will bring
with us.”
“Why
would the mayor lie? Or for that matter hide the thing if it’s still
operational?”
“Who
knows? Perhaps he worries someone will come along and take it.”
“He
is right to worry.” Lelanea finally released Dodger, taking a step back to look
up at him. “How do we find the thing? Where do we even start? The mayor so much
as commanded the town not to talk to us.”
Movement
caught Dodger’s eye. He glanced over her shoulder to the inn, just in time to
see the nervous innkeeper duck back inside the establishment. “Then we need to
find someone who will ignore that command.”
“Who?”
“Tell
you what, take a stroll around town. See if you can get anyone to talk to you
about the history of Jubilee.”
“And
what do you plan on doing while I gather information?”
“I’m
going to go have a word with the barkeep.”
Lelanea
crossed her arms and stared at him. “A word? Or a drink?”
“Come
on, wifey. You know me better than that.”
She
thought about this for a moment, then nodded. “I suppose I do.”
“You
take the bucket of bolts and meet me back here in a half hour.”
“Why
do I have to take him?”
“Because
I have men stuff to do.” Dodger threw his fake spouse a wink before leaving her
fuming behind him.
“See
you later, darling,” Lelanea said, all but spitting the words at his back.
Dodger
felt kind of bad leaving it like that, but what else could he do? He knew this
fake marriage was wearing just as thin on her as it was him. One minute they
were all too comfortable playing the parts, but the next it was too close for
comfort. He supposed in another world, another time, maybe they could’ve had a
real chance. But with things the way they were—with Boon alive and the world in
such peril—now was not the time to discuss feelings, attractions or desires.
Dodger reminded himself once again that her ship had sailed, and that sexy
sloop was never docking in his port again.
He
pushed such lecherous thoughts from his mind as he made his way into the
abandoned bar. He took a seat at the counter and waited for the innkeeper to
make his appearance. And waited. And waited. Just when Dodger was ready to give
up, the man in question appeared in the back doorway. The innkeeper caught sight
of Dodger waiting on him and without missing a beat he spun on his heel,
turning about to leave.
“Hey
there!” Dodger shouted.
The
innkeeper stopped in place and hung his head with a soft sigh.
“Is
this a bad time?” Dodger said. “I thought you were open. I can come back
later-”
“No,
no,” the man said. He turned about again and approached the counter with a
wide, forced smile. “What can I do for you?”
“I’d
like something to drink.”
“I
heard you were in a rush to leave.”
“Sure,
but thought I’d wet my whistle before we hit the trail again, if it isn’t too
much trouble.”
“Certainly
not. What’ll it be? We have beer, whiskey and gin.”
“No
sarsaparilla?”
“No.”
Dodger
grunted. “Are you sure?”
“No.”
“No
you aren’t sure, or no you don’t have any?”
“I
am sure we don’t got none.”
Dodger
decided to skip the lesson on double negatives. “Well then, I guess I will have
a glass of your finest beer.”
“Right
away, sir,” the innkeeper said. In less time than it took to order the thing,
Dodger had his hands on a nice, warm beer.
He
took a sip, eyeing the barkeep over the rim of the mug. “You married?”
The
innkeeper shook his head but kept on wiping down glasses.
“Good
on you,” Dodger said. “Sometimes it ain’t worth the trouble of a warm bed. She’s
all uppity ‘cause we didn’t find what we came for.”
“Sorry
to hear that,” the innkeeper said.
“Me
too. She’s just so used to getting what she wants. Like most gals, I suppose.”
“I
hear ya.”
“I
don’t think we got a chance to formally meet.” Dodger stuck out his hand. “Arnold
Carpenter.”
“So
I heard. I’m Gerald Benton.” The innkeeper swiped his hand across the front of
his apron, then quickly shook hands with Dodger before returning to his work.
“You should know Mayor White said you would leave soon.”
“Did
he?”
“Yes,
sir. And you should also know what he says sort of goes around here.”
“Ah.”
Dodger leaned across the bar and lowered his voice “We’ll, we aren’t from
around here, are we?”
A
soft fear rose to the man’s eyes. “What are you saying?”
“That
the little lady and I will leave when we’re ready.”
“And
the m-m-mechanical man?”
“Him
too.”
The
pair of men fell quiet as Dodger gave the Benton a chance to brood on what that
meant. There was a chance the innkeeper would panic, and decide that messing
with the likes of Dodger was far too risky. In that case, Dodger would have to
convince Lelanea to move in with a softer touch. To Dodger’s delight, the fear
on the innkeeper subsided. He smirked as he slid another beer mug across the
counter.
“On
the house,” he said.
“Are
you certain?” Dodger said.
“Yeah.
In fact, all of your drinks are.” The smirk grew into a broad grin.
Dodger
thanked the man and scooped up the fresh mug. Benton left Dodger alone at the
bar, heading to the backroom to do whatever his work required of him. Sipping
on the free beer, Dodger wondered just how far he could push the innkeeper for
information before the man folded under the pressure. Benton was all but
chomping at the bit to talk about something. Hopefully that something was the
same something Dodger wanted to talk about. If only there was a way to bring it
up without tipping Dodger’s hand.
“Mr.
Carpenter?” the innkeeper said.
Dodger
glanced across the bar to see Benton lingering in the doorway to the backroom. “Yes,
sir?”
“I
hate to ask, with you being a customer and all, but do you think you can give
me a hand with this keg?” The man jerked his head toward the room behind him,
then slipped away through the open door without giving Dodger a chance to
refuse.
Dodger
gulped the last of his ale then wiped the back of his mouth with his sleeve as
he got to his feet. He followed the man’s lead, slipping behind the bar then through
the open doorway at the back where a flight of stairs greeted Dodger. He took
the stairs with caution, just in case this was as setup after all. The staircase
bottomed out in a storeroom filled with barrels, extra chairs and tables, dusty
bottles of rotgut and wine, but no innkeeper.
“Mr.
Benton?” Dodger said.
“Over
here,” Benton said from behind a stack of kegs.
Following
the voice to the back of the cramped room, Dodger found the innkeeper poised
over a wide mouthed barrel on its side.
“If
you can get that end,” the innkeeper said, patting the huge keg at his feet.
“I’d really appreciate it.”
“No
problem,” Dodger said, and stooped to grab the far end.
“There’s
a pulley near the stairs. To my left. Lift on three.”
On
the count of three, the pair lifted the barrel and duck walked it toward the
stairs. The weight of it almost overpowered Dodger, but there was no way he was
going to let the smaller man know that.
The
innkeeper grunted with the weight. “I don’t know … why I order them … so
large.”
“The
bigger kegs … are easier … to pull from,” Dodger said between grunts and gasps.
“What
… do you know … about pulling?”
“Used
to … work a bar.”
“Here
is good.”
At
the command, Dodger lowered his end, setting the huge thing on the floor near
the stairs. “Phew. You need help lifting it up the stairs?”
“Naw,
the pulley makes it simple.” Benton had already looped the roped around the keg
and was in the process of yanking the keg from the floor.
“All
right then.” Dodger lingered a moment, hoping the man had more than help in
mind. When the moment stretched into an uncomfortable silence, Dodger decided
to cut his losses and try to fish for info somewhere else. “I suppose the wifey
and I should shove off.”
“Yeah,
that might be a good idea. You’ve probably seen everything you want to see in
Jubilee.”
“Yeah,
I reckon.” Just as Dodger turned to leave, the innkeeper cleared his throat.
“Of
course, you might wanna check out the old mines.”
Dodger
smirked briefly before wiping the smile from his face and turning about to eye
the innkeeper with exaggerated curiosity. “Old mines?”
“Oh,
yeah, this town originally sprang up around the old mines. Course, there’s
nothing in them now. The gold dried up years ago, but the people stuck around
once the land was cleared for farmin’.”
“Isn’t
that what the miners bought PAUL to do? Clear the land and make it
inhabitable?”
The
innkeeper nodded.
“That’s
pretty clever,” Dodger said. “Was that White’s idea?”
“Nah,”
Benton said. “It were Travis’s idea. He used to be Mayor White’s foreman. He’d
worked on plenty of crews before and he knew once the mines were empty, the
people would leave. We needed a way to make folks stay. Can’t build a town
without people. Can’t have people without a place to put ‘em.”
“And
PAUL made a place for people to stay,” Dodger said, finishing the idea.
“Yes,
sir.”
“I
take it all of that happened before this town was called Jubilee?”
The
innkeeper wrung his hands and dropped his gaze to the floor, falling quiet as
if he had said too much.
Dodger
was losing him. But to be fair the fellow had given away just enough info to
move this investigation along. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t
want to-”
“No,
I want to tell you. I need to. Mayor White means well, but he sometimes forgets
the truth of the matter.” Benton continued to wring his hands and look at his
feet.
“And
the truth is?”
The
man swallowed hard. “If you head straight out of town from the back of the
church, you should find a trail that leads right to the old mines. If you wanna
see it. And I think you and the missus will want to see it.”
Dodger
couldn’t ask for more. “Thanks. I appreciate the help.” As he reached the top
step, Benton spoke again.
“Arnold?”
the man said.
Dodger
looked back to the innkeeper on the bottom step. “Yeah?”
“Please
be careful.”
“I
appreciate the concern, but I’m always careful.” Dodger smiled.
The
innkeeper furrowed his brow. “You don’t understand. I … that is to say … well …
if you find what you’re looking for, just be real careful. White may act like
he has a poor memory these days, but there are certain things that none of us
can forget. No matter how hard we try.”
Dodger
left the man and his cryptic counsel at the bottom of the staircase, and made
his way back to the Rhino and his friends waiting there. As Dodger traveled
along, he couldn’t help but recall the words Decker said to him just a few
weeks prior. The Orphic warning that sent Dodger on his way. That cautionary
advice that boarding the Sleipnir would be the death of Arnold Carpenter.
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