August 10, 2014

In Which Searle Is Gnawed

December 9, 1186

"It's kind of nice--you turning up unexpected." Nice... but out of the ordinary. Sparron was quite possibly the least spontaneous person Searle knew, and he'd long ago figured something a change there would require something monumental. So, much as he appreciated the visit, the question of just what monumental event had occurred gnawed at the back of his brain like a dog with a bone.

"Camaline said something that made me want to see you."

That seemed a bit weak. "That's all?"

"All that matters."

All that I'll say, Searle translated in his head. Damn it, Sparron.

"Just sit with me, all right?"

Searle put down the poker and made for the couch. Sparron may have needed a 'why', but not all people did. Searle himself didn't, not usually--unless it was where Sparron was concerned. But sometimes, Sparron needed Searle to just go along with it, and Searle guessed it was the least he could do. "I can't object to that."

"I hope tonight wasn't inconvenient."

Why would it have been inconvenient? "It isn't. The kids are in bed, and Lettie doesn't mind."

"If only everyone was like Lettie." Sparron's right hand reached across his lap and took Searle's. His palm was rough and raw from too many white knuckle nights of mental assaults, but Searle thought it fine as silk. When he was an old man, he'd take to grasping at any new material he came across, in continued vain attempts to recapture the feel of Sparron's touch.

He'd never managed to picture Sparron as an old man.

"Well... not quite like her. But I know what you mean." He thought he did, anyway. If there were lives after this one, he hoped Lettie found a better lover than him in the next. Someone who loved her properly, like Searle had always loved somebody else. "What did Camaline say to you?"

Sparron shrugged. "It's not important."

It was. But Searle let it go. "Well, I'm glad you're here."

Sparron's hand left his and instead flew to his side, guiding Searle's legs atop his own. Searle's head spun as he was dipped to the arm of the couch. Spun, but not alarmed.

"I'm glad I'm here too."

Spun, but still gnawed.




Van said...

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea to write this post while watching Monty Python's Flying Circus. But on the plus side, it seems that Photobucket has stepped up to the plate in regards to the ad issues? Hopefully not speaking too soon there.

Anyway, this is the last post of 1186. However, Naroni will be taking a bit of a break before the start of 1187. I'll post about that tomorrow, but for now, rest assured that it has nothing to do with the health or well-being of myself, my computer, or any person/aspect in/of my life.

Winter said...

Searle doesn't know that Sparron's condition has been generally deteriorating? Sparron hasn't volunteered anything as far as I remember, and I doubt anyone in the family is thinking of Searle as need-to-know. And I suppose Searle wouldn't want to jump to the idea that Sparron's personality shift is rooted in something bad.

I'm glad everything is okay on your end! There's plenty of past Naroni to keep us all happy until 1187 kicks off, anyway.

Van said...

Searle is aware of the condition, but no, he doesn't know just how it's been progressing lately. The only one of Sparron's family who might possibly think of Searle as "need to know" is Camaline, but she wouldn't say anything to Searle that could cause stress to Sparron. Sparron's comfort is more important to her than Searle having all the information.

I hope so! In any case, I'm also planning on listing a few other stories for my readers to check out while I'm gone (though I think you already read most of the ones I'll probably mention).

Penelope said...

I agree with Camaline. I don't know what good it would do to have Searle running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Van said...

Yep. Over-sharing probably wouldn't be in either Sparron or Searle's best interests.