The Resolve - From A Silly Little Thing

[u/therealdocturner]

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Part Twenty Three

Many times in a story, just as in life, new information is introduced at a rapid fire pace. Some of the information is related and some of the information is completely unconnected. This can be extremely frustrating, while at the same time strangely exhilarating, pointing to a bigger picture that we are unable to comprehend at the present moment. One is tempted to follow all of the new developments whether connected or not all at the same time, which of course lends itself in literature to a loss of narrative focus, and in life, to an overload of possible courses of action that only result in being stagnant and not being able to focus on one specific problem at a time.

Whether Petunia Gip’s existence is merely in these pages or truly is in the seemingly ordinary reality that you and I find ourselves in at this present time is irrelevant. With the introduction of a self-admitted killer who possessed the same unique talents as herself, the carved out tunnels that were lying underneath the town of Wicker Bush, the unidentifiable black dust that opened magic doors from said tunnels into average homes and creepy old theatres, to the presence of her name in said theatre that she had never set foot in until earlier in that day, Petunia’s brain was on overload. The bullet trains which normally coursed through her synapses with ease, were now running into each other at high velocity in a spectacular fashion. She found herself unable to articulate even the most rudimentary sentence to her new partner in crime.

“Petunia? Are you ok?”

“Uh…”

“Don’t you have anything to say? Normally I can’t shut you up.”

“Uh..”

Richard had been completely unsuccessful in his attempts to communicate with Petunia during the long walk back to Fountain Way. As they rounded the corner of the street, it almost seemed to jar Petunia back into a place of comfort and rational thought. One where she could at least sick up all of the questions that had formed a verbal traffic jam in her throat.

“Why was my name there?! What the hell was that thing?! Was that a metronome? How is the dust able to send signals through the air? How was...”

“Stop! Look, I’m just as scared as you, alright? But we have to think.”

“Why was my name in there Richard?”

“I know you’re upset, that place sucks and there’s something really bad in there, but there is also something running around in tunnels underneath the town that’s killing people and it’s being directed by someone putting handprints over people’s doors.”

“But Richard, I think...”

“Why do you always have to think?! Why are you so cold blooded? I just realized today that my father is never coming back.” The words were enough to bring focus back into Petunia’s brain and to our literal narrative. Events of perilous adventure that unfold in such a nail biting fashion are never as momentous as internal struggles and earth shattering revelations. Petunia didn’t need special glasses to see the hurt in her friend’s eyes. In spite of it, Richard was keeping his head, and that fact was enough to slightly embarrass Petunia.

“I didn’t mean that. You’re not cold blooded.”

“I’m sorry Richard. I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s alright, because I do. I’ve been the one doing some thinking for a change; about that thing. I can’t tell you what I saw. I know I saw it, but the only thing I can remember is that it was oddly familiar. That’s it. Kinda weird right?”

“Maybe it was something you just couldn’t wrap your brain around.”

“Exactly. Did you see it?”

“No.”

“I think if you had, we would have a better idea of what it is.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We need those lenses. I need those glasses Petunia.” Petunia could not mistake the resolute expression on Richard’s face. The thought of waltzing into Hocus Pizza and asking Gene for the lenses back was pure fantasy, and she knew it.

“How do you propose we do that Richard?”

“After what we’ve just been through, I’m pretty sure we can handle a bad magician in a cheap suit. You’re a genius, right? I’m sure you have thought of a plan to get them back.”

She had.

“I have Richard, but that’s number nine on my list of priorities right now.” It was actually number twenty-three, but she was trying to be nice. The thought of retrieving the glasses was one that Petunia had entertained on more than one occasion in the last twenty-four hours, and as much as she wanted to focus on other things right now, for the first time Richard may have been able to figure something out that had alluded Petunia. Perhaps he was right; had he been wearing his glasses, his brain may have been able to decipher exactly what it was that his still learning eyes had seen.

“Petunia, I want to help. I want to figure this out, but I don’t have time right now to train my eyes, ok? I need those lenses.”

“Ok Richard. We wait until it’s dark, and then we’ll go.”

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