The Ace of Spades

Chapter 8

It's been officially a week since Mea arrived at Viv's. A lot has happened, compared to life at home, and Mea is grateful that's it's not even all bad. The storm of the previous night is the worst that's happened.

Jojo is sitting at the dining table at breakfast, still in pyjamas and looking rather tired, when Mea and Toto walk in the kitchen. Viv is at the stove, cooking sunny-side-up eggs (Mea thinks she's going to probably gain a hundred pounds from eating such heavy, filling breakfasts everyday). Toto squeals when he sees Jojo, and Mea's expression of fondness is inevitable.

As it turns out, Mea was right. Marching bands, parades, and a thousand victory dancing Meas celebrate in her head. Mea was fucking right. Jojo was with Elliot, safe and sound.

Elliot the Idiot, though. Mea's not letting that go.

The rain is still drizzling outside, but the kitchen window is open and Mea can feel it's humid out. The wind has stopped too, not a leaf on a tree moving.

She's going to keep her word and meet Victor at the cave as per usual.

**

Mea gets to the cave before Victor, so she settles into the corner, thankful that the ground inside is dry. She pulls her knees to her chest and sits contentedly in the silence. There are hardly any birds chirping, no squirrels chattering, the only sound is the silence. Mea just might fall asleep.

She's nodding off when Victor comes wriggling into the cave, his usual backpack flopping to the left side.

"Mea! Ah, see, you didn't die in the storm. I knew you wouldn't!" Victor's voice is loud and Mea nearly pees her pants.

Victor chuckles a little at her expense.

He removes his backpack, sits down, then begins to rummage through it.

"There's a pear tree a little while into the woods, which I'm going to today. You have to pick pears before they're ripe then let them ripen in a cool, dark place," Victor says.

Mea's never picked fruit, especially not at the rate at which Victor picks fruit, so she's interested in this new fact. She raises her eyebrows, hoping he will catch on and elaborate. To Mea's favour, he does.

"You never pick pears when they're ripe. If you wait too long, then animals and bugs get to them and there's nothing left."

He produces a bowl from his backpack, the same one from the dandelion days, and looks back up to Mea.

"Do you want to pick some, too?"

Mea contemplates it. Does she?

She shrugs. Victor can decides whether or not he wants her to help.

"Perfect! I'm going to need lots of help."

That settles it. Mea is pear picking today. She is most certainly going to add "helping weird hippies farm" to her resume when she applies for a job (if she ever works up the nerve to do so).

Victor pulls out two pairs of gardening gloves from his backpack. Mea thinks that backpack is bottomless. He has everything he needs in there. These gloves in particular are the brightest pair of gloves Mea's ever seen. One pair is florescent yellow with florescent green polka dots, the other pair blood orange with rainbow smiley faces all over. Mea makes a mental note not to stare at them for too long, less she goes blind.

Victor hands Mea the smiley face gloves, taking the polka dotted ones for himself and bringing along the bowl. He leads her up, deep into the woods, where he says the pear orchard is.

The walk is silent as soon as Mea reduces Victor's babbling to static background noise. The rain drips every so often through the leafy canopy, but otherwise Mea and Victor don't get wet in the steady drizzle of rain in the outside world. A few birds chirp every so often, few and far between, but the forest noises are mostly inactive today.