“Alright, we saved the leg.” Doc Fin says walking out of the only other room in the tiny hospital. Jacob and Cas stare wide eyed at his bloodstained apron. “Oh, no this always looks like this. He didn’t lose a lot of blood.”

“We did have to take some skin though.” Teller says taking of her own apron.

“Thanks to Teller here, the procedure went great.”

“Skin?” Cas asks.

“Yes, the infection caused by the Pit-gator bite is rather nasty. We were able to stave off any spread of necrosis but he will have pain, quite a lot of it.”

“When will he be back on his feet?” Jacob asks.

“In three days, but full functionality won’t be achievable for at least another week or two. Mind you, when I say functionality I only mean he won’t burst at the seams. For now, I have him sedated while we move him into the Fox home.”

“You’re moving him?”

“Space here is very limited, and the Fox family have always taken in patients for us. Ever since their son died, they have converted his room into our recover ward.”

“Thank you Doc fin.” Cas shakes his hand, he and Jacob Leave to rejoin the others.

Teller smiles at the doctor as she cleans herself up. She looks over the medicine that lines the walls of the tiny hospital. She recognizes a few of them, one of them sends a shiver down her spine. It is the same medicine that, if it hadn’t been for the bandits, would have saved her mother’s life. She misses her home terribly.

A few building away Andy has come across the local artist. She is whittling away at a dinner table big enough for a family of eight. The woman looks up, they stare at each other for a moment and she points to another set of chisels. Taking her offer he takes a minute to observe her technique, nods to himself and continues her pattern on the other side.

“Not bad, how long have you been working with wood.” She asks.

“umm… about an hour.” Andy says, holding back an obvious joke.

“Wow, I should hire you.” She holds out a hand, “I’m Dahlia Fox, woodworker for fifteen years.”

“Andy Della Terra,” he says taking her hand and shaking it. “I do―”

“Tile Art, I’ve seen you work at The Rattlesnake Gallery over in Moscow. I’m so happy to meet you.”

“Moscow? Man that was nearly twelve years ago.”

“I remember you used to have a bond villain goatee.” Dahlia walks around towards Andy, “I also remember you used to wear a cravat, and a purple suede blazer. I also remember you had a reputation for wanting to see the workspaces of young female artist. Would you like to come inside and see where I hang my gloves?”

“Sure,” Andy says making his way through the open door into her home. Dahlia looks around and follows him.

“Can you believe Andy just went into the house of another woman?” Edgar says covering himself with sunscreen.

“Sweetie I have no idea who this Andy is but he is missing out.” Carlito, a well-toned half naked man says while watching Edgar intently.

The local pool was open and Edgar couldn’t help but catch sight of wonderfully oiled boys in their skivvies. He was quickly accepted when his shit magically came off and revealed an Adonis body. Carlito quickly took it upon himself to show the new comer around the pool and all of its amenities.

“My god, Carlito, you have the most amazing abdominal muscles I have ever seen. I have written something about them. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes, please. Everyone gather round, Eddie has a poem for me.” Carlito reclines in his seat, giving everyone a good view of Edgars muse.

“What is in a boy’s good looks but the promise of good thrashing,” Edgar begins, he stands up and paces along the edge of the pool.

“He’s talking about the grind stones,” Carlito interrupts and points at his stomach.

Edgar gives him a poignant look before going on, “you may say that his body is a god given gift, but from what I have seen only a touch of sin could have given him the grind stones. Fellow fiends I am not ashamed to tell you that I have very impure thoughts when I first lay eyes on his glory. I wanted―”

“He wanted to sharpen his tongue on the grind stones.”

“I did,” Edgar says not looking at Carlito, “now I would much rather bum a rooster than have to look at your lopsided goiters.”

“What did you say?”

Edgar turns to face him. Placing his hands on the armrests of Carlito’s lounge chair and lowers himself dangerously close to his face. “I said your grind stones are no more than pebbles in a stagnant fish tank. No, don’t you dare interrupt me again. I was giving you the gift of poetry and you dare spit on it. Yes Carlito you are beautiful on the outside but on the inside… hell it doesn’t matter anyway I have a husband and I’m poolside with fifteen other gorgeous creatures. I am done with you.”

Carlito is left to dress alone as Edgar recites his work to an adoring audience. Carlito’s walks out of the gated area fuming that he was dethroned by a skinny thing like Edgar. Zipping up his jump suit he makes his way in to the garage he works and passes Cas and Allan watching a mechanic at work, clipboards in hand.

“Now here I have a blown head gasket. Why is this bad?” the old man asks the two friends. When they both raise their hands he laughs and points at Cas.

“Coolant will leak into the oil and disrupt lubrication, causing irreversible damage to all surfaces. Eventually causing the engine to overheat and stall. Worst case scenario it may weld pistons in place, costing the customer a good deal for a new engine.”

“Gold star, Cas.” The old man says.

“You have a little brown spot on your nose.” Allan whispers to Cas, as the Mechanic explains how to replace the part.

“Anything to say to the class Allan?”

“Me, no sir.”

“Good, now go get my timing gun. I may as check that while I’m in here.”

“Yes sir,” Allan doesn’t look at Cas.

Jacob watches the two giving the mechanic a hand while he and Patricia walk around town on a little date. They have already hade brunch and Patricia decided it would be a good idea to take a blanket and cooler to the park and have a little nap under a shady tree.

“So, when all this is over are we going to tell the others?” Patricia asks, nuzzling Jacobs arm.

“I really don’t see why we can’t tell them now. Some good news might lighten the mood.”

“Can you imagine, hey guys, Jacob want to know if you want the chicken or fish I’m sure that would go great.”

“You’d be surprised how easily they go along with anything said in an English accent. Allan once spent four months trying to figure out how to use a dying star as a power source.”

“He is such a silly goose.”

“Well it’s been five years since we’ve paid an electric bill.”

They two walk hand in hand up the small hill at the very edge of the park. Patricia sets up the blanket under a birch while Jacob pulls out two ales from the cooler. They clink bottles and watch as Teller and the doctor rummage around the edges of a bush. They watch at Teller holds up a root of some kind, they watch as the doctor jumps up and down stupidly. They watch as, in his excitement, he leans in and kisses her.

“Holly shit, grab some ice.” Jacob jumps up and runs to the doctors aid.


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