His Soul

Your Guest

As much as you'd prefer monitoring Curioso the entire time he was out of the box, you still had a phone call to make. The hour was getting late and you didn't want to intrude at a bad time. You told him you were making an important call down in the office and warned the jester not to not break anything in your absence. After giving you his promise, you excused yourself and dialed Brianna's number.

...The call was not easy.

She was upset her wife was in custody and demanded to know what happened. You tried to spare the gruesome details of what you'd found, but even that wasn't enough to prevent the sobbing you'd heard over the line. You could do nothing but offer your condolences. The conversation ended abruptly when Brianna couldn't handle speaking anymore and hung up while you were mid-sentence. You weren't really offended, just glad that it was over with.

For now.

You returned the phone to your desk and headed back upstairs. It was getting darker outside as the hours dragged on. You were surprised to hear the sound of your television on from your living room. When you went to investigate, you found Curioso sitting in front of the screen, his legs crossed and his attention completely entranced in the cartoon that was on.

'A cartoon?' You wondered with a chuckle. Your guest heard the noise and his attention snapped over to you.

"Welcome back, Detective," He dramatically tipped his top hat. "I trust the call went well?"

You huffed and plopped down on the couch. "I think you can guess how it went."

The jester said nothing, moving his attention back to the screen. You watched him for a minute or two - noticing how still and quiet he was. His posture looked relaxed and he must've been thoroughly enjoying what he was watching, as you doubted he'd be sitting there otherwise.

"You, uh, like cartoons?" You brought up awkwardly. Curioso bowed his head, and you rushed to defend yourself. "That's not a bad thing! I still watch some of the classics myself from time-to-time. The Flintstones was my favorite when I was a kid."

He turned his mask just enough to see you in his peripheral vision. "Mine was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles."

A smile lit up your face. "Really? Who's your favorite turtle?"

"Michelangelo."

"Mine was Leonardo," You got more comfortable as you began a small tale. "When I was little, I had this toy sword I played with, and I cut one of my shirts to make my own bandana so I could look like him. My friends and I would pretend to be the turtle; I got to be the leader each time."

Curioso fell silent. You expected him to share more with you - about why he liked the orange turtle or share some of his memories with the show. Instead, he turned the TV off with a click of the remote, then set it aside. He continued to sit there with his hands clasped in his lap. You felt awkward at the quietness that fell upon the room. As you opened your mouth to say something that was surely going to be stupid and unnecessary, your stomach growled loudly, reminding you of what you had yet to do.

"That's right." You stood to your feet and hurried over to the kitchen. "Dinner."

You opened the fridge and looked around for any leftovers you could heat up. You must've finished them recently because there was nothing left. With a shrug, you gathered a few ingredients to whip yourself up a salad for tonight. You needed to use your lettuce before it went bad. Something healthy would make you feel better from today's ordeal, you think.

When you looked up, you saw Curioso perched on the counter across from you. You jumped at the sight - you hadn't heard him enter the room or climb up on anything at all . You were about to scold him for scaring you until he tilted his head at the cutting board.