My mind was troubled with serious thoughts and I was focused like a laser pointer. The appearance of two or three strange cats held little interest for me, in much the same way that I was little interested in just where the hell Napoleon found that sleigh he used to escape Moscow.
"Inn of The Three Sisters"
"Are you concerned about my driving to the cat hospital in the remnants of the Great Flood?" she said. She referred to the blustery winds and torrential rains that had recently rolled up their sleeves and begun throwing their weight about south Durham.
"No, no," I said. "Not the storm. I care not a whit for the storm. The storm is like the idle wind, which I respect not."
That's what I said although I doubt I would say it again if the opportunity arose. I have a habit of quoting Shakespeare when I don't have anything better to say. It doesn't always get the job done but it could be worse.
"Not concerned about the storm? We have high winds and possibly flash flooding all day," she said.
I held up a hand. "I didn't come for a weather report," I said. "I have pressing matters that require your fish-fueled, size 10 brain."
"I'm listening," she said and for some reason I thought of Seattle and morning rush hour in the 80's. I don't know why. Just a whim I suppose.
"Well, it's the Village of course," I said. "I thought I could forget that hell hole until the solstice rolls around, but," and I emphasized that last word to set her up for the punchline, which was, "it's gone and reared its ugly head again."
"You mean Pittsboro?" she said.
"Please, Wonder Thing, let's be perfectly clear," I said, "Pittsboro is quality. Pittsboro is full of special little treats, like unique shops and even uniquer events. No it isn't Pittsboro that concerns me, it's what lies near there on the shores of Deep River--it's Cyrstal Cove village, for god's sake, and it's hovering again."
"Hovering?" she said.
"Hovering is what I said," I said, "and it's beckoning."
She put an arm around my shoulder. I should say she tried to put an arm around my shoulder but I'm a good deal taller and so she rather draped an arm from my shoulder. Still, it was enough. I felt better immediately.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it," she said. "I'm sure you're imagining something far worse than the future actually holds. Remember, the universe has your back."
And before you ask me, yes, it's what she said. I wouldn't mislead you, ever. You've stuck by me through thick and whatnot. She actually said the universe has your back. I felt worse immediately.
"You wouldn't worry?" I said.
"Not at all," she said.
"Just one of those things, you think it to be?"
"Precisely."
"Then what the hell are those dozen text messages on my phone, all sent by denizens of the village, and most of them from inmates of the Three Sisters Inn?"
I thought that would get her attention and it did. She raised an eyebrow and I raised one back at her. She raised a second eyebrow. It seemed to be catching.
"Well," she said and I waited to hear what would come next. But it was a bust. She said nothing and I realized that her finely tuned brain had finally come unglued. The Genome was now adrift on an angry sea and the blustery gale outside the window was nothing compared to what waited at the end of those text messages.
"Fraiser!" I exclaimed.
"What?" she said.
"Fraiser," I said. "It's what I was thinking about when thoughts of Seattle popped into my head."
I couldn't actually see her as I turned and walked out the door but I have a feeling that she was watching me leave and shaking her head.