Chapter 13

“Company?” Junior said ... sternly said. Royal Voice. Something she hadn’t used ... very often ... and NEVER with friends.

“Ma’am?” replied Company ... the VOICE gave Company the warning.

“No corned beef and cabbage,” Junior said, with a gimlet eye.

“No, ma’am,” said a contrite Company.

“Wasn’t as bad as ‘Gold Fever,’ but it was still nasty.”

At the mention of ‘the fever’ Company blushed brilliant red ... remembering.

“Didn’t have the chemical reaction ... it was still pretty bad.”

And they laughed. Wasn’t funny ... but they laughed. Comedy ... that time you almost died ... but didn’t. ... maybe the ‘other’ guy did. Survivors ... lessons learned.

Tyche didn’t think it was funny.

But ... Tyche had had an ‘interesting’ 10 years and circumstances had taught her ... funny is situational.

The amazing thing ... Company blushed.

‘Didn’t,’ said the thought in her head.

‘Did,’ she replied.

‘Can’t ... no blood,’ thought Company ... and turned an ever brighter shade.

Tyche was getting to be of an age ... she carried a light and small purse ... womanhood could strike at the most embarrassing time ... and often did. In that small purse were the supplies she would surely need ... eventually ... and a mirror. She fished the mirror and held it up. ‘Blushed,’ she said, as if that settled it.

‘Hmm,’ thought the shiny red silver disk. ‘How about that.’ Not a question.

Tyche turned to the proprietor of the best dive bar ... and restaurant ... on the west coast and said, “Two ... with fries, please.”

“Rootbeer? Fresh batch,” said Frank.

“Oh, gods. YES!”

“One now?” said Frank, “and a refill with the burgers?”

Surprise came in the bat-wing doors... “I heard a rumor ... Hi, Company.” She sniffed. “Fresh rootbeer?”

Frank nodded.

“Set ‘em up ... I’m buying a round.”