Anxious Tough Guys

 

Writer Lady steps into the hallway with Carp following close behind her. She continues down the hall, checking the bedrooms first. “House show me Dobby's room.” She calls to the ceiling. A door appears in front of her with a sign on it that reads: Real tough guys only. No Posers Allowed. Spots and Smudge this means you. A bright orange paw print signifies the end of the ginger tabby’s message. Writer Lady reaches out for the doorknob grabbing it. TP’s voice fills the hall. “No Touchie Touchie! Only the secret Tough Guy knock will allow entry.” She turns to Carp who shrugs.

“Don't look at me, I don't know anything about this.”

“Aren't assassins supposed to be tough guys?” Writer lady asks.

Carp puts his hands to his chest, the assassin-in-training responds, “I'll have you know that I have yet to give a target so much as a hangnail,” correcting her. “I did manage to put an arrow into my former literary agent’s boss’ back tire. Of course I was aiming for my ex-agent's new Timmy Chews at the time.”

“Don't assassins kill people?”

Carp rolls his eyes, “The Timmy Chews were from a special collection of highly sought after ultrahigh heels on the market for a limited time. Each pair had its own registration number. How many times do I have to keep telling people this?” He asks.

“What would a Tough Guy knock be…”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Writer Lady thinks for a bit. “This is my house.” She says before banging on Dobby's door with her fist.

“We keep telling you Daemon the answer’s 'No.' You're not mean enough to be a tough guy.” Dobby says opening the door.

Writer Lady and Carp look at each other.

“A demon from a place so deeply lodged in Hell that the only way inside is located at the base of Faerie’s most dangerous volcano isn't mean enough to be a tough guy?” She asks.

“He is a bit of a marshmallow.” Carp points out.

“He was the only one to remember me on Mother's Day.” Writer Lady admits turning to Dobby.

“Didn't he just give you a big box of tissues?” Carp asks.

“There were flowers on the outside of the box. He didn't know they weren't real.”

“Lame.” The ginger tabby says.

“A lame gift is better than not being acknowledged at all.”

“Sorry Mom.”

Writer Lady looks at Dobby with her most disapproving expression. “Apologies mean nothing...” she says.

“...unless I change my behavior.” Dobby says finishing Writer Lady's sentence.

“I do listen.” He says. “Part of the time.”

The sound of explosions and rapid fire can be heard in the background. Dobby comes closer stepping into the hallway closing the door nearly all the way, placing himself squarely between Writer Lady and the inside of his room.

“Who do you have in there?” she asks.

“Peter, Dylan, Ray...Diomedes might come later if he's not feeling as nervous he's been lately. The game was too stimulating for him the other day. All the usual people, what's up?” Dobby asks.

“The anxiety alarm has been going off. Carp and I are both fine so we're trying to figure out who’s triggering it. Does anyone in there with you seem well… jittery?”

“No. We're all fine.”

“Are you sure there's no one in there that seems to...I don't know...be taking losing a little too personally?”

“No Mom we're having a great time.”

More sounds of rapid fire and explosions go off behind the ginger tabby.

“Dude your plan totally worked. You got to come see what happened.” Ray’s voice calls out. "Hurry man.”

Dobby turns his head in the direction of the sounds coming from his room.

“If you notice anything strange..”

Dobby turns back to Writer Lady and nods.

“We're resuming in five…” Ray calls. “Four…”

The ginger tabby looks behind him and turns back to Writer Lady.

“Anyone a little nervous? Having random outbursts…”

Dobby looks at Writer Lady.

Three... can be heard from the other side of the door.

“This anxiety seems to hit creatures very suddenly without warning.”

“Yeah.”

“Call me if you see anything.”

“Okay Mom I've got it.” Dobby says closing the door.

Writer Lady and Carp stand in the hallway as the sounds of Halo commences in the distance.

“Did he seem anxious to you?” Writer Lady asks.

“Not at all, the gamers seem to be okay. If you want to get that query letter wrapped up today we need to get going.”

“House.” Writer Lady calls to the ceiling, “Show us the kittens. Art on the walls surrounding the pair fades and new art appears as Writer Lady and Carp find themselves at the opposite end of the hall, in front of Aunt Purdy's door. A cheerful wreath of flowers marks the entry to Aunt Purdy’s room. Sounds coming from the other side of the door are softer than the sounds that had been coming from the other side of Dobby's. Carp knocks on the door. It opens within seconds, Aunt Purdy stands on the other side of the entry, she is smiling.

“Hello.”

“Hello.” Carp says, mirroring her greeting.

“I was wondering how you're feeling.” Writer Lady says.

Aunt Purdy thinks for a moment. “As we all know I'm not the same as I used to be. I have to admit that I’m feeling more relaxed than have felt in recent weeks. The herbal teas, music, and meditations are helping.”

Writer Lady and Carp smile.

“Not to mention the changes in diet, increased exercise, and being more mindful of what I watch and read.” Aunt Purdy continues. “They say this time of life is like a woman's second spring, it's more like spring cleaning if you ask me. The only way to get through it is to clear away your bad habits. All of them.”

Writer Lady reaches out and hugs Aunt Purdy. “We can't go through menopause for you, but we're all with you.”

“Don't forget what comes after spring cleaning.” Carp says.

Aunt Purdy and Writer Lady look at Carp waiting for more information.

“Redecorating!” He sings. “I'm not just talking about home décor, your body is doing new things so you can have a whole new look, I mean everywhere girl.”

And Purdy's lips turn up ever so slightly showing no indication whether she's up for making big changes or not kind of like the woman in the Mona Lisa, only happier.

“You heard the alarms?” Writer Lady asks.

“I did.”

“We're just checking on everyone making sure everything is okay.”

“I have quite a group of visitors today would you like to come and take a look?” Aunt Purdy asks before leading Writer Lady and Carp into her room.

Spots, Smudge, Furnatche, Paige and Daemon are all inside. Paige is blowing catnip bubbles for the animals as Daemon watches. The kittens watch the bubbles float along thoughtfully, anticipating where the bubble might go then quietly yet efficiently popping it with their claws. The baby dragon goes after the bubbles with greater enthusiasm, there's lots of jumping and happy yipping sounds. It’s an idyllic scene versus what had been transpiring in recent days.

“That was easy.” Carp observes as the pair leave Aunt Purdy's room.

“A little too easy.” Writer Lady counters.

“Pixie One is resting in her room. Diomedes is getting better but returning to his room when he feels overstimulated. TP and Pixie Too haven't been here for weeks so it's not them.”

The anxiety alarm goes off again.

“Someone's triggering it right now.” Writer Lady observes. “Who? Everyone's been accounted for. House, can you tell where the anxiety is coming from?” Writer Lady asks.

“Coordinates of anxiety outbursts are 8.6.75.309.” House responds in a monotone.

“Where is that?” Carp asks.

“How the hell should I know! Where do you think you are, in a Sci-Fi movie?” House responds.

Writer Lady rolls her eyes, “Thanks House.”

“Don't mention it.”

A thumping sound comes from the other side of the house. Writer Lady turns her head in the direction of the sound. There's another thump, this one is louder than the first.

Writer Lady and Carp take off in the direction of the sound. The writer and assassin-in-training stop in the entry to the bonus room. Tinkletoes is sitting next to the carport door. The self-proclaimed mercenary is sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his knees are tucked in close against his torso like a child struggling to feel safe. Tinkletoes slowly bangs the back of his head against the wall. “Have you ever wondered,” the self-proclaimed mercenary asks. “what the meaning of a mercenary’s life actually is? Have you ever wondered why you're here. If lighted sabers, semi-automatics, and fancy cupcakes is all there is. Have you ever asked yourself if you're wasting your life?”