After the Storm

18. Newcastle upon Tyne

Puerile: Immature/foolish

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“Are we there yet, sir?”

“No.”

Silence, except for muffled voices from other cabins, the rumbling of the train and my constant fidgeting.

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“When will we get there?”

Silence.

Grumbling, I tried to peer out of the sad looking window that was no larger than my head. Trees whizzed past us and I spotted a few cattle grazing serenely. We had left the city long ago and I was beginning to miss the familiar sight of tall buildings dotting the scenery.

"Mr Ambrose, sir?"

Ignored.

"Are we bloody there yet?"

Cold silence.

It went on like this for God knew how long. Me continuously asking questions while he assumed the personna of a frozen stone.

I jumped up from my seat and gave the metal wall a firm kick. It let out a clang of disapproval. Serve it right! "Blast this train! This is taking forever and I'm starving!"

"This is not 'forever', Mr Linton. Do not exaggerate. It has only been four hours, thirty nine minutes and twenty two seconds."

"Oh it talks!" I glared pointedly at Mr Ambrose. "So how about you tell me how long more we are going to be in this goddy hell hole?"

Freezing silence.

"Come on! Tell me!"

Karim suddenly leapt up. "Oh shut up!"

"Make me!"

Karim drew his sabre, his eyes burning with wrath. "I will slice your head off, you ifrit! Then you will no longer be able to keep on talking until my ears bleed!"

"Oh yeah? I'll bash your monkey brains in, you wanker!" I squared my shoulders and reaised my fists.

Don't be daft! He has a sabre and what do you have? Two flimsy hands that cannot punch for toffee!

Thank you brain, for always granting me words of encouragement.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Mr Ambrose snapped.

"Killing this ifrit that has wiled you with its evil charms, Sahib!"

"Mr Linton has not wiled me with any of her-his charms. What nonsense are you sprouting, Karim?"

Slowly, Karim turned to look at our employer. He raised one large, bushy eyebrow.

"Can I kill him?" Seeing that my enemy was distracted, I asked Mr Ambrose. Wait. Why was I asking for permission? "Actually no. I'm going to kill him!"

Karim snapped back to me.

"Die!" The massive Mohammedan growled. "Allah is my strength. He will help me defeat you demon!"

"Well...chocolate is my strength! And it will help me beat you to pulp!"

Karim stared at me, even his excessive amount of facial hair could not hide his look of confusion.

I raised my hands up defensively. "What? I thought we were stating our gods!"

If I couldn't defeat him with my power, I would have to baffle him with my bullshit. Not that I was sprouting much poppycock.

The brown beast shook his head, clearing his disbelief. "Your god is no match for mine!" Wielding his pig sticker, he got ready to charge.

"Stop!"

We both froze.

"You two are the most puerile grown-ups I have ever had the displeasure to encounter."

"Thank you." I smiled.