Blacklake-Book4-1 Three Cousins

Chapter 58
~

“Come, talk to Ezra,” Aunt Tizir begged on the phone. “She’s packin’ bags. Don’t know what she’s thinkin’. She won’t talk to me. Please come.”

I told her I’d be there in ten minutes. Twenty minute drive to the other side of the Lake. All of our twenty miles-an-hour lanes can stress a bull’s patience. But I’d make it in five if I could. Told Kriz what was up, and ran for the parkin’ lot, which shoulda been empty at midnight. Instead, seemed like it could be mid-day, considerin’ the number of cars. What with the gearin’ up for the fabrication facility, and preppin’ for the new Plain site, a lot of ogres—I guess trolls, goblins, and orcs too—are missin’ sleep in the Valley for OW. Kriz and I will owe a lot of folk.

The highseason traffic, with all the stinkin’ summer vultures, pressed my patience. And it was even past bedtime for a sane ogre.

In my headlights when I pulled up, I saw Aunt sittin’ in what she calls the garden, to the right. It’s just a bench nestled in pine needles, and a bird bath, feet from the tree line. She didn’t look my way, so decided to let her be. She couldn’ta missed my arrival. Walked to the side door. Wasn’t gonna knock. But it burst inward before I could reach for the knob.

Uncle Erut blocked the entrance for a moment, face hard as granite. “Don’t understand why she’s takin’ this so hard,” he said. “Pretty much the best thing that coulda happened.”

“What?”

“The human boy, is done with us ogres. I say good riddance.”

A tingle worked from my feet, up through my body, got serious as it gripped my shoulders, leapin’ directly to my finger tips. Never, ever, woulda expected that kind of attitude from a Birs.

“Don’t give me that look,” Erut said. “Him stickin’ around woulda kept the emotion broilin’ indefinitely. Woulda made things worse, not better. For the clan. Between humans and ogres. Not sayin’ we don’t got some growin’ to do, between the races. But that fool threw a bomb into the middle of our culture.

“We may intermingle plenty in the future. But it has to be gradual. Not in yar face, like this was.”

I studied his face. Race relations was his biggest concern right now? Aunt was in the garden, I think in tears, ’cause her youngest was packin’ to leave, who knows where. Well, like I couldn’t anticipate where.

“What about Ezra?” I asked.

“She’s always been more sensitive than ten hens. Tizir treated her more princess than ogre. My youngling erred by gettin’ attached to the human boy in the first place, who’s rejectin’ her now, showin’ some sense.”

“Rejectin’—”

“Reasonable about the situation. Go figger. Didn’t think em humans have enough brain kindling to smoke a gnat. But maybe this one has a synapse or two.”

Realized my mouth hung open, and clopped it shut, maybe comin’ close to cleavin’ my face with my tusks.

“No ogre bred in the Valley,” Uncle continued, softer, maybe so his voice wouldn’t carry throughout the house, “has managed to stay away. If Ezra needs to run away for a bit, cleanse her thoughts, escape her embarrassment, whatever—she can take care of herself. Will be back.”

“Kind of a cold attitude,” I murmured.

“Best not judge,” Uncle answered with a growl. “Best ya simply support her, not try to talk her out of, whatever.”

Our eyes remained connected for a bit longer than I was comfortable with. But gave me a moment to give him the benefit, of maybe havin’ his thoughts well collected—less influenced by emotion. We ogres are an emotional bunch, so go figger.

“Aunt Tizir, not in line with yar thinkin’,” I suggested.

He smiled the tiniest bit. “What hen ever looked forward to her youngest seekin’ their own life.”

That almost made me cough. I think Mama is prayin’ to the gods to get me moved off on my own. Me goin’ to the Plain to college, had her grinnin’ ’cross her tusks.

“Ya gonna let me in?” I asked.

“Never kept ya out,” he said, movin’ just slightly more away from the door. “Just don’t get her feelin’ more conflicted than she already is. Hear me? Ain’t what she needs.”

I nodded, and stepped over the threshold. Did I have a right to question if Erut knew what was best for his hen youngling? I just didn’t want her to leave the Valley. Which of us were thinkin’ more about their own wishes?

~ Ezra ~

A thing about bull voices. All that bass turns into vibrato through walls. Not like I could hear every word. Wasn’t tryin’ to. But most of Papa’s intentions were clear enough.

Ya’d think Papa’s—not exactly prejudice. Don’t have a word to describe it. But his sentiment did challenge my sinuses to leak a bit more. All I needed.

No reason to wait on Ike’s knock. I blew my nose, walked to my bedroom door, and opened it with a bit of anger. Ya’d think that emotion would be used up, too.

He didn’t stride in. Leaned against the jamb, arms crossed. Appraisin’ me maybe. Givin’ him a route to escape in case he said the wrong thing. I studied his gentle right hand, claspin’ his left arm. Not as thick and rough as the average ogre’s. Spent more time hoverin’ over a keyboard, than—whatever the average ogre bull does these days.

I began it. “Kriz texted me, ‘Love ya.’ Just, ‘Love ya.’ Didn’t ask where my head is. What I’m gonna do. Just givin’ me love. Ya here to do that, or are we gonna have a problem?” Maybe that sounded confrontational. But, I’m a hen. Expected to be irritable by nature.

Ike’s eyes traveled across my over-sized suitcase and three, hundred liter, stuffed duffles on my bed. “Ya expect to be gone a while.” Wasn’t a question. His eyes dashed to my nightstand, where the teddybear he gave me when we were wee ones, shoulda been.

I nodded. Asked him if he’d do me a favor. His eyes widened, as though insulted I had to ask, maybe. I grabbed a notepad off my desk, wrote the URL, ID, and password for my financial account. “Sell a few shares of Birs stock for me? I can’t sit, to do it myself. I—I—please.”

“Sell off Birs stock? Are ya nuts?”

“I don’t need that right now,” I hissed.

“Sittin’ there it’s like free money growin’. More sense to borrow against—”

“Don’t need a financial advisor right now.” The rumble deep down shoulda made him back away. But he just glared back at me.

“I’ll cover ya for whatever ya need. I keep a few million in liquid assets, for emergencies. Ya get where ya’re goin’—”

“Stop it,” I hissed. Occurred to me, to ask myself why I’m so mad at Ike. He’s—

“Maybe ya should stop, and use a few synapses,” he said.

I turned to face him dead on. Dead on—a bad way to be faced by an irritated hen. My fingernails dug into my palms. Imagined ploughin’ my fist through his face. Prolly not something he’d recover from. Especially considerin’ the state of his brain already.

“Ya do what ya need to do,” Ike growled. “I’m not gonna let ya multiply yar pain unnecessarily.”

That rumble from that ogre muscle deep inside the chest, with a name I can never say ’cause some idjit used fifteen syllables when they made it up, rattled the windows. The way Ike twitched, think the vibration in the jamb gave him a tickle.

“Ya were irritatin’ as a ten-year-old, bein’ all too grown up for yar britches. I’m not in the mood for—”

“Too bad,” he growled back. “Whatever ya’re gonna do, Kriz and I will cover ya. Ya need to buy a property down in the Wildes, we got ya covered. Not gonna let ya sell Birs stock. That’s just idjiotic.”

“Who says I’m headin’ for the Wildes,” I growled.

“Ya ain’t goin’ north. I know that. Ya’ve imagined yarself an owner of yar own barbecue place since kindergarten. Like I can’t figger out wherever ya’re headin’, doesn’t involve ya cookin’.”

“Maybe a meat shack on an eastern beach,” I said.

“We ogres can’t take that heat, day in day out sun, not for long. Ya’d cook like the meat ya think about slow braisin’.”

“I hate ya, how ya think ya’re always the smartest ogre in the room,” I said, and maybe snarled.

“Not the smartest. Hardest workin’.”

And practical, the jerk. He had a point, the twit. Butt nut. Prolly never wasted a second of his life watchin’ a video, listenin’ to some other fool’s ideas on the Internet. “Still hate ya.”

“No ya don’t. Ya’re just hurtin’. That fool didn’t reject ya. He rejected the situation a relationship with ya would entail.”

“Don’t go explainin’ the world to me. Don’t need that. Don’t want it. Keep it to yarself.”

“Don’t disappear on us. Okay? Kriz and I, won’t know what to do, without ya around. Keepin’ us fed. Keepin’ our egos in check.”

I wanted to laugh. But I had enough anger stashed away to keep me deadly-armed for a few more hours, maybe. Not just anger. I hurt from something else.

“Ya know,” he said a lot more softly, “Kriz still has about every penny he earned from the first apps we sold, fifteen years ago. He’d get really ticked if ya sold any Birs stock. That’s generational wealth. Meant to be kept in the family.”

“What good does it do, sittin’ there, if we don’t use it?” I growled.

“Ya can live off the dividends like most Birs folk. It’s like brain cells. Good to be used, not discarded.” He smiled like he just thought up something really bright.

~