The one major difference is the presence of three Peace Force vehicles parked in front of Sad Mary's (two patrol cars and a van marked "Coroner"). All three of them have their flashing lights on. There is a sizable contingent of Ares Gang members outside the club too. That portion of the Plaza seems oddly under frequented by the artist crowd roaming the remainder of the Plaza.
As the group strolls along chatting, Goodness stops by an ATM and takes out $200. Soon (hopefully), the fine folks find themselves outside of Sad Mary's. Goodness asks, "Who's goin' in? Woofie, mayhap ye'd be better off waitin' ootside. Nothin' pairsonal, but ye never know. Last guy who went inside lookin' like a dog got himself blown all over th' floor wi' a shotgun."
Leo also withdraws some money at the Insty-Bank teller machine. He sighs a bit as he looks at the balance on his receipt, then shoves it in a pocket. The bills he distributes among his various pockets and even one rolled and tucked inside his shoe. KK watches closely, fascinated by all the places where people can and do hide their money. Maybe he should find some good hiding places of his own?
"I suppose I can go in," Leo sighs. "The rent-a-vikings will probably recognize us, though. I bet Woofard will have less trouble that the rest of us except maybe KK, who stayed out of trouble earlier."
"Uh, guys?" says Woofard in a quiet voice, "I'm not so keen on seeing the cops. Is there anywhere I can wait, and meet you when you get out of that happy looking establishment?"
"Hang tight," replies Goodness. "I'm gonna recon the area, see if the lady in question might be hangin' around ootside. That'd save us all sorts o' trouble." He begins scanning the crowd, trying to blend in as much as possible and not attract any attention to himself and his travelling partners.
"Works for me," replies the Akita quietly. He maneuvers a bit amongst his current associates, so that there are lot of legs between himself and the cops.
"I don't like those cops either," KK confesses. "Two of them wanted to drag my ass to Four Points, or Great Men, just for walking in the street."
"Aye," chuckles Goodness as he surveys the crowd. "Some fun, eh?" Goodness heads for the front doors of Sad Marys while the others hang back. One of the Aries gangers at the front door speaks to him briefly, and then he steps inside.
Leo looks at KK, Ben, and Woofard with a dubious expression. "So, anybody wants to place bets on how long it takes for someone or something else to invite us to 'The House'? I've got five dollars says it's less than half an hour."
Woofard looks, but does not reply. He is now the "good dog".
KK looks at the bill, looks at Leo, and shakes his head. "Good luck finding takers for that," he says.
As Goodness heads for Sad Mary's the remainder of the party begins to hear, from the direction of the Plaza, the approaching sound of drums. Glancing that way they see what appears to be an African drumming group approaching. There are good dozen of them, dressed in colorful clothes. Around half of them are playing a variety of drums, bells, and rattles. The others are dancing.
Having nothing else to watch, and never having seen anything like this, Woofard watches all the excitement coming down the street towards them. He moves closer to the buildings to get out of the way.
"Oh, it's the local color coming to greet us," KK says. It's hard to determine if he's being sarcastic or just talking to keep himself occupied.
Leo looks on with mild interest. The music is catchy enough, but he's learning not to take anything on Al Amarja at face value. Like Woofard, he quietly steps out of the way, giving the parade wide berth. He keeps an eye on the revelers, but doesn't forget to be alert for pickpockets, muggers, Goth Jesus caffeine addicts, or anyone else of the variety of 'Martians who might like to take advantage of an inattentive burger.
KK has also considered how easy it would be for a dancing party animal to bump into him and relieve him of some of his belongings, so he also avoids any close contact with them. Meanwhile his nose is trying to synchronize its throbbing with the rythm of the drums, but fails miserably due to the painkillers he ingested earlier.
The drummers and dancers approach the group, and stop to perform a few paces away. The drum beats are exotic, almost entrancing. Other pedestrians are stopping to watch.
And of course KK stays just as far away from the audience as he is from the performers, since everyone knows how easy it is to lift stuff from people entranced by exotic drum beats. In fact, if he wasn't drugged and beat up, as well as carrying a check for two thousand dollars, he might've been the one doing the lifting.
The dancers attempt to convince people from the growing crowd to come out and try a hand at dancing. One motions to Leo, and another to Ben. Leo shakes his head and steps back a bit. This is not a good time... He rapidly glances around to assure himself of exit ways.
Ben immediately reaches around behind KK and gives him just enough of a shove to send him stumbling towards the beckoning dancer. By pure reflex, Leo makes a grab for KK's arm, trying to steady him. As he does so, his brain informs him, one step behind, that this is probably not what Ben had in mind.
Though KK's arms might be a bit hard to catch, as they're flailing wildly in a desperate effort to protect his bandaged nose. His mouth says "Hey!", and his mind adds "Nooo!".
Leo snags KK by one arm, steadying him before he goes far. The dancers, for their part, continue to smile and dance (though they look momentarily perplexed at KK's antics) and the drummers continue to drum.
Woofard has a hard time nod at least nodding his head to the music, as its powerful rhythms are overwhelming, especially at close range. He saw a Taiko drum concert in San Francisco once that had a similar impact, but didn't have the freedom or abandon that this parade inspired. He settles for simply wagging his tail in time with the music, and finds it a frighteningly acceptable substitute. As the thug shoves the stoner out into the parade, the dog has to work to suppress a laugh.
"Thanks," KK says to Leo. Then he turns to Ben. "What the hell did you do that for?" He's trying to sound angry, but it only comes off as whining and annoying.
"You're welcome," Leo assures KK, waving the matter away.
"Sorry about that," says Ben. "It was just a natural instinct. Besides, I'm a terrible dancer."
Leo chuckles softly, but makes no comment. He glances up and down the Plaza (which isn't as easy as it sounds since the Plaza is circular!), then at the front entrance to Sad Mary's, and finally at the narrow alley separating Sad Mary's from The Good Doctors.
"We could try checking the back door," he muses. "Woofard, good dog, wanna play fetch, uh? Wanna play fetch?" He grins sardonically at the Akita. He pulls a rubber ball froma pocket and, with a good swing, he tosses it towards the back of the alley.
Woofard watches Leo toss the ball. He watches it fly, and watches it land. He looks at Leo. It is kind of a dirty look, but he says, "Woof." He moves towards the alley, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.
Choosing to let go of Ben's vile attempt to force him to dance, KK proceeds to give Woofard a grin and one thumb up for his conspicuous lack of enthusiasm.
As he enters the alley, Woofard thinks back to the alley where he met Marda. He thinks back to that dealy alley behind the burning house. Not for the first time, and not for the last, he wonders what became of the Trashman and Nigel. He makes a point of finding the ball, and then stares at it. Like Hell I'm putting that grubby thing in my mouth, he thinks. Suddenly doing the dog thing is starting to creep him out as much as Marda is.
Enough with the introspection crap, dog-boy. Ya got a job ta do here. He looks around to see if there is anything interesting in the alley, being sure to take in all the lovely stenches and stinks roiling around in this alley.
The alley smells like garbage and piss and vomit and cheap booze.
In short, it smells pretty much like any alley next to a bar would smell.
Rustling noises in the garbage denote the presence of roaches, rats, and
other vermin. The stench from one of the dumpsters suggests that
there might be a long (months) dead body in there. Other than that
there really isn't much in here that Woofard finds interesting enough to
want to examine closely, or even be near. It's filthy in here.
Leo purses his lips and whistles, then calls out, looking down the alley: "Here, Woofard, here boy! We're going home, now. Wanna go home, huh? Here Woofie!"
As Woofard makes his way back to the edge of the alley, the look of disgust is plain, even on his doggie face. He coughs a couple of times. Looks the crowds over and lopes back to the group when it looks safe. He sits down with the goup and makes a few obnoxious gagging sounds. Figuring he has made his point, he pipes down to listen to what the others have to say.
"Any good-news, Goodness?" KK asks casually.
"Aye," replies the Scotsman. "We've got an interview at 8:30 on the morrow. Some place called 'HyperGen' in th' Science barrio. I ken bring five others wi' me, so it looks like we're in business. What say we stroll back t' the bowlin' alley, say oor goodnights an' head fer home? I ken meet ye tomorrow mornin' at, let's say seven thairty? That oughtta give us enough time t' hail a cab. How's things goin' oot here? Any heads explodin'? Free-form sexual deviance? Pan flutes?"
Leo shakes his head and starts following the rest of the group back to Rick's Bowling Palace. "Nah, just a drum circle," he answers offhandedly. "Pretty quiet. So what exactly is this interview about anyway? You mentioned that the lady talked about catching a rat. If the rat is worth money interests people from a place called 'HyperGen' in Science, it sounds like a pretty sure bet it's not your regular sewer rat. How much money, anyway? And what did that woman say about the job? Maybe the rat carries something nasty, like a super-plague!" He frowns, trying to guess if ebola and super-strep can be carried by rats.
Woofard looks a little worried at hearing the name of the company, but says and does nothing. Once he realizes that they are headed back to the Bowl-a-rama, the Akita stops, and starts making some fairly unrealistic dog whining sounds, looking at Leo. When he can get Leo to come closer, in a quiet voice he whispers, "The bear. Gotta get the bear fixed."
Leo looks at Woofard, then at the bowling bag he's still carrying around. "Right," he mumbles. "Bear! Almost forgot!" He considers adding 'Good dog, Woofard,' but decides the joke has gone on long enough. The Akita would probably bite him.
How will he get the damn bear fixed up? Leo scratches his head. "There's a store on the Plaza called 'Leisurely Pursuits'," he finally says, "and its ad said 'Party supplies, games and toys for all ages and inclinations.' They might know where to get a toy repaired."
He looks across the Plaza for the shop's sign, and sees that it's just a bit further past the turn they would take onto Bilge Street. He points to it. "There! Let's see if they're open. If that doesn't work," he adds, "I'll try walking down the Ramble. There's so much stuff there, I should be able to find someone who can handle thread and needle..."
Leo heads off in the direction of Leisurely Pursuits. Woofard falls in behind Leo. He has no intention of going back without that bear. His poor fuzzy pointy ears just can't take the strain.
KK on the other hand remains with Ben and Goodness. He's just come to realise that him being outside Sad Mary's was a complete waste of his time, as he could've been sound asleep in the bowling alley. So he's all for Goodness' suggestion about heading back and saying their goodnights. But the Scotsman also mentioned something about heading for home, and KK doesn't have one.
"Ehh, Ben, are we going to sleep at the bowling alley or what?"
"Unless you've got a better idea," says Ben. "It has to be more comfortable than an alleyway and a hell of a lot safer than my hotel room."
"The bowling alley is just fine by me. I just figured a guy like you might be accustomed to fancy hotel rooms with real beds and showers," KK chuckles. "Let's go then," he says as he heads straight for their new home.
Still walking, Goodness pipes up, "Eh, ye ken crash at my place fer the night if ye need, gents. I've na much extra room, but I ought t' be able to rustle up a couple o' blankets an' maybe a throw pillow oor two. Na the Hyatt Regency, t' be sure, bu' it ought t' beat sleepin' on the lanes. Ye up fer it?"
"Well, I wasn't thinking of sleeping on the lanes. I've had my eye on those seats behind them though. But your place sounds just great," KK admits.
"That's a generous offer," says Ben, "but you might want to retract it. That is, unless you enjoy having your door kicked down in the middle of the night. I've been harried all day long by this gang of priests and they have a knack for showing up when you least expect it. So consider this fair warning."
Goodness, KK, and Ben head back up the street to the bowling alley,
arriving without incident. Out in the parking lot, where a chunk
of building is still smoldering, they spot Chris, Dr. Forn, and Dr. Finklebaum
surrounding something lying in the parking lot.
Woofard looks at the place. It looks pretty much like the kind of place that would fix a bear, or at least know what to do, and could refer them to a Teddy Bear hospital. That symbol on the door, it looks like some kind of gang tag, is a bit disturbing though. Woofard keeps an eye open for obvious gangsters, as the approach the shop.
Leo looks in through the front door, checking whether the store is still open. He never wears a watch but the eventful day has messed up his time sense. Then he thinks that even if the store is officially closed, there might still be someone there. The owners may even live upstairs, in fine Mediterranean tradition. He raises his hand and knocks politely.
"I sure hope they can help us," he says anxiously, half to himself and half to Woofard. "She can't see her teddy in that shape!"
The inside of Leisurely Pursuits looks like a typical game store - toys, games, dolls, the occasional children's book, etc. There are about a half dozen customers wandering around the shop, mostly children.
Woofard looks around. Seems like a nice place. This should work.
Behind the counter stands a slight, androginous looking man dressed in green tights - he looks for all the world like Peter Pan2.
"Hi!" he says cheerfully, "Welcome to Leisurely Pursuits and... oh, what a GORGEOUS doggie! Hel-lo doggie! Are you a good boy? Are you a good boy? Yes, you're a good boy! Oh what a pretty doggie you are! Yes! Yes! A very pretty doggie!"
Woofard freezes at the sound of this voice. His slowly wagging tail slows to a halt. He stares at the man talking to him with the deer-in-headlights look that dogs get when they are surprised. After regarding the man this way for several moments, Woofard's eyes slide over to Leo with a silent plea.
The guy behind the counter looks at Leo. "What's his name? Can I pet him? Oh, what a PRETTY woofie you are!"
Leo looks at Woofard with a mixture of amusement and worry, then back at the store owner. He thinks quickly and shakes his head. "His name is Woofard, but he can't be petted. He's being trained for zootherapy with special kids, you know, hyperactive or autistic kids, or behaviour disorders. He needs to be handled only by a few people so he'll really bond with the kids he works with. This sort of outing is good for him, puts him in contact with people so we can see if he's disciplined enough to do this kind of work, just like seeing-eye dogs." Leo smiles happily, delighted that he's been able to stay not too, too far from the truth. Marda IS a special kid after all.
Woofard thinks to himself, 'hyperactive', 'behavior disorder', yeah that's a pretty good description of Marda.
"OOOOH!" shrieks the guy behind the counter, "That's just DARLING! You're a SPECIAL puppy, yes you are! Yes you are! You're going to be someone's special friend! A special friend! Ooooh thats soooooo wonderful! What a brave puppy! Yeas, a very brave puppy!"
Woofard rolls his eyes. Oh mother of God, he thinks, maybe I did die, and this is Hell. Yeah, that seems about right.
Leo groans inwardly, but says nothing. He is careful not to look Woofard in the eye. But thinking of Marda reminds him of the reason for this visit and his smiles diminishes. He hefts the zipped bag onto the counter. "That brings me to my errand here," he sighs. "I don't know if you can help me, but I'm trying to get a toy repaired. A little girl's teddy bear." He opens the bag to show the awful mess. "She's going to be broken-hearted if she sees this, and I'm absolutely sure trying to switch the bear for a new one would be a disaster. Do you repair toys, or do you do business with someone who does?"
The guy looks into the bag and winces. "Um, that's just a pile of cloth and ticking. I doubt there is enough left to sew back together. Maybe you should just have a funeral?"
Woofard looks to Leo, hoping tha tall man can do something about this. He considers giving Pete, here, the old growl-a-rooni, but decides against it for now. It'd probably scare the little creep so much he couldn't do the repairs.
This time, Leo groans OUTwardly. "Don't say that, please," he begs. "It'd break the girl's heart, really, and she's been through a lot already. I thought I could pacify her with other toys if this was repaired, sort of gloss over the damage, but there's positively nothing that'll cheer her up if the bear isn't patched. Even if it's just the outer skin sewn back over a filler shape. He can lose an arm, he can lose an eye, but he has to be a teddy bear again. Please, can't you check if you know anyone skilled enough to try this, maybe one of your suppliers?" The circus artist looks more like a pleading dog than Woofard ever does.
"Mister," replies the clerk, "That bear looks like its been through the Romanian revolution, been dragged around through the mud, been worked over by crazed cult terrorists, gone through a fire, and THEN been thrown into a mechanical bowling pin setter. It's toast. It's gone. You probably don't even have all the pieces. If you put it back together it would look like a lump of cloth with a couple of button eyes, vaguely bear colored. Buy another bear. Its a time honored tradition. Parents have been doing it for generations. Wrap it in plastic and tell the kid its going through a metamorphosis, like a butterfly. Hel-lo! Hel-lo! Pretty woofer! Handsome woofer!"
Leo frowns, shakes his head. He's usually a good-tempered, easy-going fellow, but the clerk's breezy attitude seems too callous, right now. Especially when Leo can see, whenever he closes his eyes, how bruised, battered, and burned Marda's scrawny little body was last time he saw her. He leans onto the counter and moves to block the man's adoring gaze on 'Woofie'.
"No," he says, calm but his voice a bit harsh. "Like I said, I do plan on buying some other toys for distraction value, but don't you think that a toy that's been through so much with a kid can't be replaced by a shiny new plastic-wrapped nylon-and-polyester stuffed bear? So here's how we could all be very happy: you give me the name of the place most likely to bring these pieces to a zombified semblance of teddybearness, I buy a bunch of other toys here, and Woofie and I bring all this back to a hurt, scared, lonely little girl and make her day. The alternative is you tell me you can't help, I buy toys somewhere else, and the little girl probably ignores them, crying her eyes out."
He looks 'Petey' in the eye earnestly, seriously, and yes, with a bit of an edge, his long-fingered hands gripping the counter a bit too tightly.
"Hey Mister, I'm not trying to hit you up for a sale. I am telling you that bear is kaput. It's history. It's toast. I bet your woofie there wouldn't even use it as a chew toy. Would you boy? Would you? No you wouldn't. No you wouldn't, would you?" The clerk continues to gaze in rapt attention at Woofard, before reluctantly turning his gaze gaze back to Leo. He shrugs. "You'd have better luck trying to make a bear out of a dish towel," he says apologetically.
Leo looks fixedly at the clerk. "You need to work on your closing technique," he says in his mildest, calmest voice. "Can you give me the name of anyone who repairs toys, please?"
It's too bad that, despite this very composed attitude, Leo is picturing pulling out all his throwing knives and using 'Pete' for target practice. How fast could he whip them all out, how tight a grouping could he achieve, he wonders? A polite smile remains glued to his face, perhaps a tad too stiff.
Peter Pan shrugs. "No I can't." he says. "I don't know of any place that does that kind of work. Maybe you could check on the Internet?"
Leo nods. "OK, thanks for your help." He carefully puts what's left of Teddy in the bowling bag and zips it shut again. "Come on, 'Woofie', we're going," he sighs. He heads out, and starts heading for The Ramble.
"Have a nice evening," says the clerk. "Sorry about your bear.
Bye BYE woofie! BYE bye!"
To make the conversation a little less clumsy, Leo sits down on the edge of the sidewalk surrounding the weird modern art sculpture that is central to the Plaza of Flowers, and opens the bag again to check the contents. This brings him to Woofard's nose level. He nods and murmurs: "Yeah, that's what I was trying to explain to Peter Pan, there." He sighs again.
"Maybe I should go back in there and bite his ass," speculates Woofard, "Nah, I'd probably get diabetes."
Leo runs his fngers through the burst ticking, looking for both Teddy's eyes and trying to line up the severed limbs to determine how much of the original bear there is left. "We either need a toymaker or someone who can sew very well. And it has to be someone who's willing to put in the effort, not sell us another damn plastic-wrapped Pokemon. Maybe the guy is right, though, I should go the Breakneck Café, get online and check the 'Net for specialized places. Or better yet, get somebody else to do it, since I'm not too computer-savvy." He grimaces.
He looks around, checking that there is still no one close enough to hear him ask a dog's opinion, and adds: "Unless you can think of something better, I still think it might pay off to look for a seeamstress on The Ramble."
"Yeah, that sounds good to me," Woofard replies. "I don't really know enough about this place to come up with anything better. How far away is this place?"
"Well, The Ramble is that street next to Sad Mary's." Leo points towards the pedestrian alley. "I don't know how far we'll have to go to find help, but the street stretches all the way to The Brink, the cliff bordering The Edge which the tourist brochure described as a 'lower-middle class neighbourhood.'" He gets up and, with a wry grin for Woofard's benefit, starts walking towards the alley.
Woofard hops to his feet and follows the man into the alley. He keeps an eye and a nose open for potential danger in this alley. Knowing that this is the kind of place that breeds trouble.
Leo and Woofard cross the Plaza and walk down the ramp into the old abandoned canal that is now filled with tents and impermanent looking structures.
The Ramble has a lot in common with a Middle Eastern Bazaar at night. Hawkers ply their wares in a variety of languages and the air is filled with the smell of spice, cooking meat, sweat, alcohol, and pit toilets.
Across a narrow walkway, Leo spies a woman almost completely encased in leather, rubber, chains, sandpaper, and spikes. Only her eyes and the bridge of her nose show. Her voice, though somewhat muffled by the leather mask, still comes through clearly.
"Hey Burger-baby! Hey baby Burger! Let's party Baby Burger! Let's party 'til you die! I know you want it! I KNOW you do! What a way to go Burger baby! I'll take you ALL the way! and more! And I'll do your dog too while you watch! Or would you rather I did you while the dog watches? Come ON Baby Burger, let's PARTY!"
Woofard looks over at the person calling to Leo. Ah, an old fashioned girl, just the kind that ya want to bring home to meet the folks over the holidays. It occurs to Woofard that this is the kind of place the Trashman might turn up... if he was to turn up again. Thinking about him, and about Nigel makes the dog feel a little sad as they walk through this Saturday-afternoon-flea-market-on-steroids.
Leo shakes his head somewhat absent-mindedly, his thinking powers more or less absorbed by a simple binary quandary: "Can this sapient sew a bear back together? yes/no". This is re-analyzed for every person he meets in the crowd. Scanning, scanning... The leather babe registers somewhat longer than some other beings, mostly for the fact that the safety pins she adorns herself with look useful, but she is discarded after a millisecond of extra consideration.
Belatedly, Leo glances down at Woofard -- and then quickly away. He'd rather not think about Woofard and the leather babe together, it makes his skin crawl.
Scanning, scanning...
Leaving the Leather Babe behind Leo and Woofard trudge along the abandoned canal, past various booths, street vendors, shoppers, revelers, and curiosities, until they come to a nondescript tent. A sign outside reads "Toy Repair" and in smaller letters underneath "Rumanian Teddy Bears mangled by electric bowling pin setters a specialty."
The interior of the tent appears dark.
Leo does a double take. Gulping, he looks at Woofard with a bewildered expression, then steps forward to examine the 'custom sign', trying to see if it's just been scrawled for his benefit. The paint is dry, but the sign looks new. Did the Peter Pannish clerk call ahead, guessing they would end up here eventually? But then why would he not simply have given the address?
Unless this is a psychic toymaker. Hmmm... Until recently he would have been very skeptical; now after only a week on Al Amarja, he is becoming as gullible as any mark. As gullible as burger are supposed to be... However, the slight weight of Teddy's sad remains in the zipped bowling bag at his side is a clear reminder of his predicament. He can't afford to pass up this opportunity, no matter how fishy it looks.
"Here goes nothing," he murmurs. "With a bit of luck I'll see one of my old colleagues, maybe Madame Cassandra the tarot reader and crystal ball gazer..." Bravely, he pulls aside the tent flap and enters the gloomy shelter. "Hello?" he calls. "I'm..."
"...here for the Special." replies a voice as dry as old leaves from inside. "Stay where you are. Throw the bag with the bear inside. Quickly."
"Hell with that," Leo answers mildly. He does, however, stop in the entrance. "Enough hoodoo, let's talk repairs first. If you.."
"...yes we... I can do it. I will do it for do... for the child. Just for her. But hurry! Time is short!"
Woofard looks into the darkness of the tent with wide eyes. Quietly he says, "Be careful, there is something ultra-weird going on here, Leo. Ultra-weird. I can't smell anyone in there, at all."
Leo closes his eyes briefly, feeling very, very tired. "Crap," he mutters, his blue eyes popping open again. "I hate doing that..." He breathes in deeply, swings his arm backward for momentum, and sends the bowling bag in a graceful arc into the darkened opening. His brow is lined with a deep frown and his lips are compressed with tension.
"Don't you dare," he murmurs, barely audibly. "Don't you dare..."
...something flies out of the darkness and lands at Leo's feet. It is difficult to tell because of the lighting, but it appears to be a rather battered looking, but whole and entire, teddy bear.
Leo bends down, looking much like a paperclip, and gingerly picks up the object at his feet. The process brings him more or less nose to nose with Woofard. He gives the canine hero a long look of mixed perplexity and alarm.
Woofard looks down at the bear for a long moment as well. He raises his head to meet Leo's gaze with raised doggie brows.
"Right," the circus artist murmurs. "Now we should probably have this thing exorcised..." He doesn't much look like he's joking. "I wonder if Li can be reached at this hour?" He straightens up, scratching his head, then remembers that Woofard has not met the cab driver. "Oh that's right, you don't know her. I'll tell you all about it on the way..."
"From what I've seen so far, that doesn't sound like a vey bad idea, as weird as it is," replies the Akita quietly. He waits a few moments before leaving. He wants to see if something strange is going to happen at this bizzarro tent.
As they walk up the Ramble back towards the Plaza, Leo describes how Ghishu and him met the somewhat hyper cabbie, and how she reacted to Ingar earlier in the evening. As they reach the Plaza, Leo looks around for a pay phone, or for one of Giovanni's Cabs. If he can call Li, maybe she'll recommend a good exorcist? He shakes his head. What the heck is going on, that just one day in The Edge has gotten him looking for teddy bear exorcists? Even The Terminal seemed saner...
The Al Amarjan night life is in full swing in Flowers at the moment. No parked cabs are in evidence, though the pair spot several zooming around the circle at high speed with their passengers. There are several pay phones scattered about, but all are in use. Since the bowling alley is only a few blocks up, it would likely be just as easy to call from there.
Leo and Woofard walk the ten or so blocks back to the bowling alley without incident. Leo spends much of the time filling his canine buddy in (unobtrusively) on Li and her relationship with the (then not so Strangely Silent) Ghishu.
As the pair approach, they notice that there seems to be some sort of disagreement going on in the parking lot. Buttery Goodness and Ben Crutcher seem to be having some sort of an argument, and Ingar is looming next to Goodness. Dr. Bennett's van is once again in the parking lot, and Dr Bennett herself is squatting next to someone or something lying on the ground in the parking lot.
Leo groans. "The doctor, again? Somebody new, or one of
ours?" His strides lenghtens, and he waves to attract his companions'
attention. "Hey, Ingar! What's going on?" he calls, not too
loud but just enough to carry that far. "Who's hurt?"
To Be Continued...