Robbie Remembered

2:8

It was difficult for Sportacus to knock on the silo's hatch with his arms full but he managed. Eventually Robbie came up and opened the lid. As soon as he saw Sportacus his eyes widened and his mouth snapped into a smile.

"You got them all!"

"That's right," Sportacus said, smiling big enough to match the other man's enthusiasm. "Should I bring these in for you?" Robbie was already scuttling back down the chute, only his flapping hand remaining to beckon the hero inside.

Sportacus had come down this way a couple times before, sliding and careening like a bobsled. Now he had to take his time going down the long and winding chute so as not to get stuck or drop any of his cargo. The crawling pace made the distance from the base of the billboard all the way down into the subterranean chamber feel that much farther, and it was already an impressive depth.

At the end of the long tube it leveled off horizontally and Sportacus wriggled along on his back, swinging his legs out first so that he could ease himself onto the floor without any incident. The temperature had been steadily dropping all the way down and it bottomed out at a chilly baseline inside the lair.

Robbie rushed him as soon as he was on his feet. "Took you long enough," he declared as he plucked one tool after another out of Sportacus' arms, piling them into his own. "I'll be taking that, and that, and this, and..."

The man paused. He wrinkled his nose.

"What are those?" he asked.

After the hammer and the saw and the pliers, Sportacus had still more to deliver. Only slightly wilted from being crowded together, the bright yellow petals were just as vibrant, maybe even more so now for being in the dimly lit bunker.

"They're sunflowers," Sportacus said. Now that his arms were free he could spruce the bouquet up and hold it out. "They're for you. Unless..." He lowered them back down so that they drooped. "You aren't allergic, are you?"

"No," Robbie said, his nose wrinkling even more. He jerked to the side right before he let out a head-banging sneeze. The man sniffled. "Maybe a little."

"Oh Robbie, I'm sorry," Sportacus said. "I should have asked first. I'll get rid of these right away."

"Wait," Robbie said, and paused again. He sniffed and cleared his throat so that the words were nearly lost under his breath. "I actually really— like— sunflowers. They're... my favorite."

"You mean, you want to keep them anyway?" Sportacus asked.

"... Yes."

"Really? That's great!" Sportacus exclaimed, his cheer booming in the cavernous room. Robbie's expression was planted somewhere between a grimace and a grin and colored like a ripe tomato. He huffed and jostled the tools around as he strode away from Sportacus towards his work bench.

"Yeah, great, whatever. Keep your hat on, Sporta-sprout." He dumped the tools on the table with a bang and a clatter.

"Where's the best spot to put them?" Sportacus asked. There were so many dark corners and shadowy recesses, the flowers were sure to brighten things up wherever they went. Robbie didn't answer. The villain had already immersed himself back in his work.