Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Day Ninety-Three: A most unfortunate tree


It's tough to have two ladies in your life, diary. Even tougher when one of them seems to hate the other. So, while I was lying broken in bed last night, listening to Libby snore, I concocted a plan: I would bring my wife and my daughter together.

(Why I thought that when I don't even really get along with Eve mystifies me now, after the fact. I shoulda known better.)

The kangaroo came to get me again today, and even though it managed to land a punch on my cheek I was still ready. I'd heard that it likes meat, so I had some leftover rat from last's night's dinner waiting. It stopped in mid-punch, sniffing the air, licking its lips at the sight of the meat.

"Kangaroo," I said, "take me to the prince and the meat is yours." I've seen the prince talk to the kangaroo before, so I KNOW it understands English. And I guess it did, 'cause it DID take me to the prince…

… though he was in a weird spot: a shed. Sleeping on some hay. I'll give the prince one thing, diary - he may seem spoiled, but he knows how to live like a commoner. Though he, ah, wasn't too happy when I woke him up, 'cause the moon was still out, surrounded by stars.

"Dragomir, you boob, I'm sleepin'," he said. "How'd you find me?"

And I said "Well, Prince Logan-"

"JUST LOGAN."

"Logan, I had an idea for today. Rather than me getting, you know, beaten to hell for no reason."

"What do you mean, 'no reason?'" He shook his head. "Get on with it, I'm tired."

So I told him. And even though he was still crabby, the prince liked the idea. He only ordered his kangaroo to kick me once on the way out.

Hours later, I was on the training grounds, as usual. This time, though, there was a big tree in the middle - made by one of the carpenters, of course, we couldn't bring in an ACTUAL tree - and Libby was sitting at the top. The prince had ordered her up, and like me, she can't go against the prince.

Doesn't mean she can't mouth off, though, and she did. A lot. "What the hell is the point of this, you nimrod?!" She was lookin' right at me, so I guess I know who the nimrod was.

I couldn't say anything, 'cause Logan cut me off, addressing Eve, who was, as usual, staring off at nothing in particular. "Teacher! Knights are supposed to be gallant and stuff. Show me how by rescuing that woman from that tree!"

Eve looked at the tree. Libby glared back.

"Go on, Lord Knight!" Logan called. "Or are you not a true knight?!"

The plan, diary, was for Eve to clamber up the tree, gently take her mother in her arms (I've seen Eve lift a cart covered in fruit over her head, so I knew she could do this) and bring her safely down. Show her gentle side. I KNOW she has a gentle side.

Instead, she grabbed a war axe from a weapons rack and cut the tree down with one big swipe. I've never heard such foul words come from Libby's mouth as the tree went crashing down.

I'm sleeping in the rat farms tonight. It's not safe to go home right now.

That should have worked,

Dragomir the Stymied

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