The Poop That Lived...in a Sauna

Some Answers

"So—where is it?" Dan asked. This seemed, to him, the only question available. His thoughts flitted uncomfortably to Horace, whom he'd almost forgotten, writing off their entire interaction as something that would have to be coped with and examined later, perhaps in a therapist's office. Now he finally began to feel uneasy, worrying about the creature's well being. Though Horace hadn't presented himself as exactly healthy upon their first meeting, he did exist. And could probably fall prey to some negative variation on existence.

Woodi didn't answer right away. Her gaze had fallen back down to her metallic finger, which she was stroking gently. Her short hair fell across her cheeks, obfuscating her expression.

"It was confiscated. That's why I need to talk to you, Dan." Woodi swiped her fringe off her face, meeting Daniel's eyes. Her gaze was clear and strong. "The same thing happened to you." Dan stammered a little, struggling for words. Woodi's face was very close, the dim light of the treehouse softening the sharp edges of her cheekbones. "I'm sorry about this, but you're in it now. There's a lot you don't know, but I'll fill you in. You just have to remember to fight, ok?" Dan had gone slack jawed, confused. Almost entirely sure he'd taken something weird in his bran flakes that morning. Woodi was about to say more when they noticed movement in the yard below.

Peering through the slats of wood, Daniel saw something else his brain wasn't prepared to comprehend. Ma had walked onto the lawn from the study and was standing a few yards away from the base of the Woodi and Dan's tree. Her arms were hanging limply by her sides, and she was staring at the neighbor's wooden fence. Dan had never seen her this aimlessly distracted before, as though she didn't know where or who she was. Stranger still, someone was approaching her from around the other side of the house. 

Dan didn't recognize the interloper, who neared Ma, taking intentionally careful and quiet steps. He was quite short, with thick, curly hair. Dan couldn't see the man's face from the bird's eye angle, but didn't feel settled about the way he was tiptoeing across the grass. Dan exchanged a glance with Woodi, whose brow was also furrowed.

"MA!" Dan yelled from the treehouse, as Woodi leaped through the trapdoor. The stranger's head jerked toward the loud cry and he stopped in his tracks. Ma didn't move. Dan followed Woodi down as quickly as he could, snapping a rung of the worn ladder as he went, so that he ended up falling hard on his rear. When he regained his footing, he saw Ma blink blearily, as if waking up. Dan rushed to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Are you ok?" he asked. Ma shook his arm off.

"Of course I am," she snapped.

"I just thought you looked a little weird," Dan said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. He turned, looking for Woodi. She was standing with her arms folded in front of the short man, who Dan now saw was bearded, with a long nose and thick eyebrows.

"Hi, I'm not sure we were ever introduced?" Woodi said accusatorially. The short man didn't seem embarrassed. A little put out, maybe. His eyes wandered over to Daniel's. Eyes that were a deep moss green, and warm. Comforting. Dan began to smile in spite of himself. He felt a little foolish for suspecting any ill intent from the little man.

"I'm Roberto. An old colleague of your mom's. I only just arrived—I was too late for the surprise, but thought I could get a rise out of the old girl anyway," the man said. He moved towards Ma and chucked her gently on the arm. "Surprise!"

"'Old girl', he says. I'm only 60. The way things are looking in the medical field, we'll both be around for my 120th." Ma said, rolling her eyes. Dan smiled. It was nice to see Ma talking to someone from work. Her job was her happy place, a retreat from the chaos and disorder of home.