“Not your Anderson?” Alberts says suddenly stepping forwards
into the room, his back rod straight and eyes alert.
“Yes do explain gents.” Alfred adds.
There follows a long account of the groups journey through
the cave of beasts, they tell of the sudden and almost unexpected death of Mr
Anderson and the sudden re emergence if this new one. It’s then and only then
the group realizes the subtle but innumerable changes in temperament and
attitude of their good friend.
After much discussion around the topic of betrayal and
motives Tom suddenly stops the conversation in its tracks. “This is pointless
going around and around in circles, I’ve no doubt that we can find many actions
that seem suspicious in this Anderson. Its damn likely that we could find such
faults in each of us given enough time and speculation.” Stopping the clear his
throat he continues. “I think what we need to do now is formulate a plan to
find and capture our man and then perhaps we can start to unravel this strange hum
that pervades our fair city.”
“You don’t suppose Anderson has something to do with this
phenomenon do you?” Henry asks his friend.
“He may not have when we emerged from the cave,” Gestalt butts
in from the doorway, “but it’s a certainty that he will sooner or later.”
“I say! That’s an awful lot of speculation on all your
parts.” Albert adds.
“Yes right-o old chap, it does sound like a fools fantasy.”
Alfred chimes in as a waft of Alberts pie smoke drifts before him, the mans
hand flaps wildly to disperse the phantasm of smoke.
“Multiverse! Harrumph.” Albert exclaims around his smoking.
“Is it so unusual after all we have seen? None of what we
have told you has been fabricated, none of it!” Henry barks out, “Surely you
must believe us.”
“Oh I think what you saw is true enough I just don’t like
the idea of there being other versions of myself out,” waving with his pipe in
the air, “there. Goodness knows what devilish things their up to, its not,
not…”
“Proper Albert, that’s what it isn’t. If this Anderson is an
uncivilized heathen as you claim then imagine the unsavoury acts the other me’s
might be up to.”
“Here, here chap.”
Sliding forwards on the lounge Athena interrupts, “As
interesting as all this is,” She says with a sidelong glance to Elisabeth, “how
do you suppose we might find and apprehend Mr Anderson, or whoever he is?”
“That’s a good questions my lady.” Gestalt says moving
beside the girl.
Sitting for a moment Tom ponders the question before raising
a finger to the air, “Well we know that he is still the same basic fellow as
our Anderson, right?”
The room agrees.
“And we know, at least think, that he may have shared some
of the same experiences as our Anderson, right?”
Again they all agree.
“Then wouldn’t it stand to reason that he might head to a place
of safety, somewhere familiar, an old stomping ground, or safe haven?”
“But where would that be Tom?” Henry quickly asks as the
question fades into the dense air of the room.
“Perhaps his school or college?” Tom asks.
“His parents home?” Elisabeth adds.
“He didn’t have them.” Albert coughs out.
“Well not in the normal sense chap.” Alfred corrects his
friend.
“Quite so, he was adopted at age thirteen and went to
boarding school soon after. Don’t know why people would do such a thing; adopt
a child then ship ‘em off. Better to leave them in the care of nuns I say.”
“Quite so Albert.”
Looking sideways across the room, almost mirroring the
slanting rays of light streaming through the windowpane and filtered pipe
smoke, “An orphanage?”
“Yes all boys home I believe, Saint Jerome’s Home for boys
wasn’t it Chap?”
“No, no, no you’ve got it wrong Alfred, it was Saint
Bethany’s Asylum for wayward boys.”
“Asylum?” Both the girls exclaim in unison, Gestalt steps
forwards on one foot.
“Its just a name lass.” Albert offers while his friend nods
on.
Leaning heavily on the arm of his chair Tom asks, “And where
would this place be gentlemen?”
⚅⚀thoughts
