A Summer Story

We stopped suddenly in front of a large brick building. He released me and I asked, “Is this where you live?”

The building was nice, nicer then my house. It was three stories high and six rooms wide.

“No, we’re just stopping here for my health.” He replied sharply. “Of course it is. Let’s go.”

“With who?” I asked curiously.

“There’s me, a couple castoffs, some runways, a few orphans and Doc McPherson and his assistant, Bishop.”

“What are you?”

“I’m me”

“Are you sure there’s a bed free?”

“If there ain’t your original plan should do nicely,” He joked.

“Simple as that?”

“Simple as that,” he laughed, “You sure do ask a lot of pointless questions,” he noted.

“I like everything to be clear, if it means asking a few pointless questions- even though there are no pointless questions- then so be it.”

“Do you always speak like a newspaper?”

“How’s that?”

“Like you’re mind was edited for grammar.”

“I never noticed but I guess I do,” I replied, “Is it annoying you?”

“A little bit, but more then that, it’s making me feel stupid.”

“I can’t help it.”

“You wouldn’t have to ‘help it’ if you just shut up,” He mocked.

“Not gonna happen,” I replied flatly, then I asked, “This is just a lodging house right?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sort of, McPherson calls it a… a safe house, you can stay as long as you need, as long as you’re not wanted for murder or something like that.”