The Coyote and what happened after

Chapter 9

When last we met our heroes...

The next morning dawned bright and clear. It was the kind of morning that made you want to go outside and spend all day somewhere quiet in nature. Ironic, then, that California and Texas were stuck in the confines of the house and garden. They had woken up early to start on breakfast. Texas settled on bacon and eggs, while California went for a more dignified fruit parfait. As they cooked they also began to plan their way out.

This planning went the usual way, in that soon after they started they began to have an argument. It was pointless and did nothing to help the situation. It had begun about where they would run to, when they would run, and how they would effectively escape recapture, but ended up about which breakfast was better.

This argument continued on for quite some time. They only stopped when they noticed that the bacon was burning on the stove.

"Fuck," snarled Texas, "Look what you've done."

"I've done?!" gasped California, indignant, "I'm not the one cooking bacon. I haven't touched it once."

"Buenos Dias." interrupted Mexico, coming into the kitchen. "What is the breakfast today?"

"Eggs, fruit, and bacon," replied California, suddenly civil.

Texas grunted and left the room, giving Mexico a stink eye on the way out. Mexico turned and made as if to follow him, but sat down at the table and ate breakfast instead.

Breakfast having been finished, Mexico left the room after giving instructions on what to do that day.

"Well, hermano, thanks for the breakfast. If you could clean the kitchen again, and prepare lunch and dinner that would be bien. And please find Tejas and bring him back. Past that, you are free to do what you want so long as you don't leave the property. I'll be working in town, but I'll be back for dinner, most likely." With that said, Mexico left.

As soon as Mexico left the kitchen, California slumped against the table, letting out an exhausted sigh. He didn't mind Mexico, but he did not want to be reunited with him through a kidnapping. He would have much rather gone to meet him on his own terms, although he supposed that this whole ordeal would bring to light many things about America of which the international community was unaware. He loved Alfred (in a very platonic sort of way, America was his surrogate father, and the states were his family), but he kept too many secrets to be healthy.

Standing he began to prepare some more breakfast. Texas hadn't eaten yet and was known for having a large appetite. Eggs and bacon went on the plate first. That was the food Texas had been preparing before he left, and was the best bet for what he would eat. After those had been dished up he began a bowl of fruit.

Grabbing a knife California began to slice oranges and pears. As he was slicing the second orange his knife slipped and cut his palm.

"Argh, Fuck. Oh, God damn it." snarled California, clutching his palm. He quickly wiped the knife clean of blood and wrapped his hand with a rag before putting his gloves back on to better cover up his injury.

After all of the blood had been somewhat washed away, and his hand had been bandaged California gathered the remains of the breakfast and went out to find Texas.

"Tejas, I've got food," called California, "And Mexico's gone now. You really ought to eat something."

No one answered for a solid 5 minutes. California, however, was somewhat patient and just sat on the block by the water pump waiting for Texas to come out and get the food. A crunch of the old gravel path caused California to look up as Texas' approached him.