Blacklake-Book4-1 Three Cousins

Chapter 23
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Papa called me, said something about things gettin’ out of hand. Think he’d already said something like that to me, recently. Maybe his irritation connected with more of my synapses than his words, because I couldn’t recall what he said exactly.

“Ezra gonna have to mate with that human before the Valley gets over itself?” he continued.

Mate? Rude. Gets over itself? Odd sentiment comin’ from the leader of every ogre in the Range. And by default, every folk, little person, human, or giant in the Range. Funny—that moment I thought it odd no one but ogres can vote for the person runnin’ the place. Since everything is clan driven. Maybe we should allow a human and troll—no, trolls have their own council—an orc clan et cetera, participate in the Range council.

Tryin’ to reset my thoughts, I mumbled, “That was a tacky thing to say.”

“That the whole relationship, social connection, between giants and humans is being reconsidered, is a good thing. But just about any change is painful. Especially for us hardheaded ogres. I was told this morning, in confidence, that the troll community is quite entertained by our conundrum.”

My papa is callin’ what almost happened to Ezra a conundrum now? He continued, not givin’ me enough time to give that due consideration.

“Ya didn’t help, actin’ as though Thomas wasn’t even in the room during last night’s gathering. Ya don’t think Ezra noticed? For whatever reason, she clasped on, protective-like, to the human. Ya don’t want Thomas to drive a stake between ya two cousins, do ya?”

Papa usually makes a lot of sense, but his current rant, babble, didn’t appear to point in any particular direction. Except to display a bit of frustration, maybe. I asked him if he had a point.

That maybe ticked him off, ’cause he hung up on me. I maybe shouldn’t upset my council leader like that. Might need approval of another property, some day. Plus, I do sit beside him at the kitchen counter every day.

After a sigh, I realized there was a tad of melancholy dancin’ about my head, diggin’ in my chest. That hasn’t happened often to me, but when it has, it’s lingered painfully long, if I ignored it—tried to ignore it. I sighed deeper, maybe. ’Cause I sensed Wekz studyin’ me.

“Everything okay, boss? Ezra okay”

“Just dandy,” I said. “Our hens are tough as mountain cliffs, ya know.”

I think he nodded, but I didn’t look over at him. I needed to nip this undefined gloom. Many times Papa would be my first call. No he wouldn’t. Psh. I took up my phone again and ripped a text to Kriz. “Can ya get away for an hour?” He might not be a great conversationalist, but he’s really good about just being there for me.

He replied as though he was expectin’ my text. “Need a hike up Gladdie Trailhead?”

That was more specific than I expected. He added, “Got no conference calls. Just reviewing paperwork I’ve avoided since finishin’ up my second thesis.”

He trusts Crita, as much as he trusts anyone that isn’t Ezra, but has a great sense of corporate responsibility that I may lack, which often surprises me. I texted him that I’d pick him up in five minutes. He’d know it would take twenty to get to the other side of the Lake.

~ Ezra ~

I’ve got the best boss in the world. I didn’t even have to open my mouth. Guess she read on my face I had to work to get something settled—away from the kitchen.

I gave her another mental thank you as I pulled up next to Daze’s SUV. As I got out I got a view of Daze and Thomas sittin’ at a picnic bench on the east corner of the house—we call em houses, but trolls like to embed their homes at least half inside the mountain.

Thomas was bundled up in a deep-winter parka and knit hat, gloves and boots. Where’d they come from? He didn’t have those when he arrived. Funny. Daze wore cargo shorts and a polo. Of course, nothing on his feet. Both of em sat in front of cups, prolly long emptied of tea.

As I neared, Daze called out, “Hey, Miss Ezra.” How long have giants been usin’ that human title? A lot of us still don’t use the terms brother and sister—which is weird, because they’re a lot more convenient than bull and hen sibling. Think he would have said Hen Ezra, a generation or so ago. Or more likely used no title.

Thomas stood up quickly, as though feelin’ guilty about something. I noted Daze gave him a strange glance too, so it wasn’t just me.

“Hey, Ezra,” he said. His face had already turned about five shades left of pale. “You doing okay today?”

Who knows why he thought I might not be okay. These humans are so odd. I growled at him to sit, before nestlin’ into a spot of my own across the table from him. Hmm. The rough wood snatched a bit at the linen of my skirt. I worked to spread it out nicely across my legs. Was pretty easy, on the troll-sized bench and table.

“Ya always stand when someone comes near,” Daze murmured as Thomas settled. “Why ya do that?”

“Uh.” The human was blushin’ even deeper now. I’ll never figger him out. “Among humans. It’s a proper thing when an elder or lady enters a room. Joins us.”

That was idjiotic. But what isn’t when it comes to humans. Daze maybe took the high road, sayin’, “That’s a nice—custom.” Maybe we shoulda already been aware of the—custom. Not like there aren’t any humans livin’ in the Valley.

“I’ll leave ya two younglings to talk,” Daze said. Thomas maybe freaked a little. Didn’t know why he was so afraid to be alone with me. Though in truth, this conversation may have been a lot safer with Daze stayin’.

As Daze strode away, I asked. “Ya afraid to be alone with me?”

The color that was just beginnin’ to turn more natural about his face flamed again.

“Well—” I waited a bit for him to collect his words. Really weird I was wonderin’ what his lips touchin’ mine would feel like. They look so soft and delicate. Really freakishly thin. Maybe part of that was the absence of tusks. Tusks would make a mud wall more attractive. “Ike, and the rest of the community are kind of nuts over you and me.”

I considered that. No one has ever gone out of their way to give me much consideration one way or another. I mean, I’m well liked, I guess, like the donkey that comes to the fence lookin’ for a carrot.

“We ogres are bein’ horse’s patoots,” I said, usin’ one of those colorful human expressions. Should I appreciate the newfound attention?

“I’m really confused,” he said.

I sighed on the inside. “Humans, who aren’t born in the Valley at least, aren’t—” Wasn’t sure how to say it.

“Takes being born here to be accepted, huh,” I think he suggested.

Truth in that. “A lot of old, and older, animosity between giants and humans.”

“On the plains,” he said slowly, “giants and humans are—that animosity is missing. Why do you suppose?”

“Really?” I asked. Ike hadn’t gone that far, though he’s talked-curious about livin’ so closely with em without a lot of drama. He’s had a human roommate since he left for college, for goodness’ sake.

“Maybe because,” he said, “since the prairie began to be settled, been a somewhat even number of giants and humans, for the most part. And that togetherness is multi-generational.”

That made sense. Though I don’t think there are that many giants on the plain. Still didn’t explain why I wanted Thomas to kiss me.

~