Dreamlocked

Chapter 9: A Lack of Taxi Cabs

Shanghai!!!! Sup little fishes? I am now going to install another enthralling sequence of words for your enjoyment because I can and I want to.

Love y'alls.

Enjoy chappie 9!!

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I stepped on the stairs, but something wasn’t right. I could no longer hear a second pair of footsteps paired with mine. I stopped in the middle of the steps and turned. John was currently three steps from the top and taking his time to get on the fourth. My patience was deteriorating at record speed. I watched him place one foot on the fourth step and get to work with the other. His left foot was on the step and that suggested he was probably left-handed. He was barely moving. My temper was lurking just below the surface.

      “Oi! Smith” I yelled up to him.

      “Yes?” He drawled, taking time with his words too.

      “Having fun?” I asked impatiently.

      “I am quite enjoying myself, thank you.” He said back totally cool and collected while my anger was about to boil over. Curse my short temper.

      “Care to pick up the pace?” I asked with emotion.

      “Not particularly. Unless, you’d give me an answer to one question I have to ask.” He spoke with cocky confidence as she set his right foot on the fourth step and began to pace.

      “Fine!” I yelled up. “What could you possibly want to know?” I asked. I looked at him closely and he seemed to be talking to himself.

He stopped pacing.

      “I want to know why on Earth a blue box across the street would be of any interest to you.” He said down to me simply.

      “You could’ve asked anything and you want to know why I was curious about a box?” I asked him right back.

      “Yup.” He popped his ‘p’.

      “Can I enlighten you later?” I asked impatiently. I placed my hands on my hips.

      “Nope.” He popped his ‘p’ again.

      “Can I enlighten you in a cab?” I asked raising one eyebrow in challenge.

      “Maybe.” He sounded completely noncommittal. He sat on the step.

      “Before we get that cab, what hospital did you say you were visiting?” I asked him, a plan forming in my head.

      “The Royal Hope Hospital. Why?” He asked down at me.

      “Well, now you have two options. Option number one is,” I raise one finger, “you come down the stairs as fast as your long legs can carry you, we get in the cab together, and you get your explanation. Option number two is,” I display a second finger, “you keep walking down those steps agonizingly slow, I get my own cab, you meet me at the hospital, and then you don’t get an explanation at all; not even a hint. Oh and there will be no guarantee that when you get there, I won’t have hopped off to investigate elsewhere.” I raised my eyebrow once more and crossed my arms. “So, Mr. Smith, what’s it going to be?” I ask tauntingly, already knowing his decision.

The man took the stairs at the speed of light compared to his previous pace.

      “So? We hail a cab then you spill, correct?”