Quest

Chapter 3

History is cool. Like, the history of the world. Things that have already happened. Those sorts of things. I always like learning about history in school, reading about it, watching Discovery and History channel shows about it, whatever. I think at one point I had three boxes of history related VHS tapes under my bed, but those all got thrown out because VHS is antiquated.

I think it's probably that the escapism I would feel was real. Like, the past is not only incredible but also definitely happened. I would sit in my room as a kid and just imagine myself in some old story. I loved it all. The kings, the queens, the pharaohs, the battles between humans, elves, and dwarves. Sorcerer towers, pyramids filled with spirits, I don't care. Once I legitimately cried because my mom told me that there were no dragons in America and that all the stories I had read about them took place somewhere else. I wanted it all, all at once. It was hard not to get sad when I thought about how those stories would never be mine. I'd probably never see a unicorn, ride a griffin or talk to a dwarf. I would've even settled for a demon or something. I mean, I know that demons once laid waste to the world and had allegedly been abolished centuries ago, but still.

Modern history is the worst history. People are too concerned with everything but screwing on their fists and having a real experience. I used to fantasize about leaving college and moving to a far away somewhere. That was unrealistic.

Anyways...

The sky was still orange with sunrise by the time I got home. Our house was set back a little from the street, which I liked. It made it feel like it was in its own hidden nook. I parked and headed straight inside to my messy, poorly decorated bedroom. My mom and I could catch up after I had slept.

• • •

Summer daylight shined brightly through my window when I woke up. At least I hadn't slept that late. I groaned and rolled out of bed, tired and grumpy enough to consider rolling right back in.

Our kitchen was poorly stocked, largely in part to my poor grocery shopping abilities, but I found a granola bar in the back of the cabinet and munched on that for a bit. I showered, cleaned myself a bit and threw on a bathrobe. Now that I was a graduated adult, clothes were more or less optional moving forward.

"Mom?" I called out. I assumed she would be around somewhere. She often left without much warning, but after only a few hours would be weird. "I'm back. Been back for a little." Still, no answer. Still, nothing out of the ordinary.

I poked into the living room, but she was nowhere to be seen. "I'm going to go out or something if you're not here," I said loudly. No one answered. I guessed she had gotten caught up catching up with some friend because she had been gone for a bit.

I threw on some flip flops and considered changing out of the bathrobe before going out, but decided that I wanted to do what I wanted and I wanted to leave that thing on.

The Rusty Raccoon was the only restaurant in Blair. It was one part bar, one part restaurant and all parts the only place to hang out in the town. I was basically a regular, but kept a pretty low key presence if I could manage it. I liked getting a big ole bowl of fries and watching the locals come through and get way too drunk on beer then drive home. Many a good memory had been spent in the ole' Raccoon and I would be sad to see it leave my life.

Old Mick, the bartender, was a crooning old woman who was definitely a shaman but didn't normally like to make it known but also had mad totems hanging around so it was pretty obvious. She was the dopest of the herbalists and could make all sorts of mixed together things. I'm talking teas, potions, you name it. More than one stuffy nose had been cured thanks to Old Mick whipping together some leaves with some other leaves.