Clockwork Firefly

Clockwork Firefly - Chapter Eighteen

"That's the last of them."

Though he was well aware there had only been the four crates, he was none the less a little disappointed they'd given all the bounty away. Rabbit had been all ready to go this morning, but then he begged off, saying he needed to help The Spine with something. He slid behind the wheel, his fingers idly petting the steering wheel, trying not to look in her direction as she finished her conversation with the Mother Superior. He glanced into the back seat of the Liberty, where Mary had ridden thus far. Not, he knew, because of dislike of riding up front, but because she'd had all the jellies beside her on the seat, and she had to keep them from falling over. The question that plagued him was where she might choose to sit when she did return.

"Is there anywhere else you would like me to drive you, Miss Mickleson?" Peter asked politely from behind the wheel when she approached, a small smile offered, trying to look obliging.

"It feels very odd, Mr. Walter, to answer that. Makes it seem as though I am treating you like my driver. Pressed to answer though, I must say that I have nowhere else I need to go, but if you have somewhere you would like to visit, I will happily go along."

He thought on it a moment. "I know you must be getting homesick. Since you won't be in San Diego much longer, I was thinking perhaps I might show you some of the city. "

"That would be very nice of you, Peter.  I haven't really had time to sight-see..." She let it slip away at the end as if there were a 'but' she chose not to speak.

Peter sensed it and turned in the seat to regard her with a wider smile. "However...?" he began for her.

She shrugged a bit. "However it is a little bit hard to see out from back seat. Do you mind if I ride up front?"

He tried not to smile too wide. "No, of course not. Please." He started to get out to go open her door but she waved him to stay seated. "I have it this time." She slid into the seat beside him, smoothing her skirt and closing the door firmly. He checked traffic and then pulled out. The trip was a rather haphazard sort of thing. He seemed to drive from place to place as he was inspired, not following any particular route. A little girl eating ice cream outside of the site of the soon-to-be opened movie palace reminded him of the best place in the city to get ice cream, and an orange dress in a shop window next door triggered a drive toward the orange groves. They visited the beach, but having no swimming togs, chose simply to drive along the coast road for a while before he turned back and cut across the city to Balboa Park.

The day was slipping toward afternoon, the sun warm and the scenery beautiful as they strolled along, chatting. Peter was telling her how the band had performed here back at Panama-California Exposition at the World's Fair. "We were only about nineteen, and every day we'd be out here, watching Rabbit and The Jon and The Spine, even Upgrade, performing for hundreds, thousands of people." His smile faded a bit. "It was a wonderful time. Everything was so peaceful and happy. Then the war began and I bet not one of those people who sat here and cheered for the band would say 'Look at those future war heroes."

"What?" She asked looking up at him.

"Oh yeah. All the lads were in the war. Rabbit, The Spine, The Jon, Hatchworth." He shrugged faintly. "They ran into fields pitted and smoking from bombs and filled with mustard gas, plucked up dying men and carried them to clean air and medical attention. Saved hundreds and hundreds of lives. Think they've got a single medal between them?" He frowned sharply. "People just... treat them like ... like..."

"Like they're not really people?" She said quietly.

"Exactly. A man does half.. no... a tenth of what they did every day and he'd be paraded down every main street in America and courted for a life in politics." He looked to her and eased his frown. "You've always treated them like normal folk though. Why?"