Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
I HOPE YOU REALIZE THIS MEANS WORCESTERSHIRE
O nce he was fairly certain everyone in the house was sleeping, Jack snuck downstairs, grabbed the to-go box from the fridge, and escaped out the back door. The night was cool, not cold. The only thing darker than the sky was the forest in front of him. Somewhere in that vast void of foliage and crawly things, his nemesis was enduring the abyss, yet for some reason unbeknownst to him, he was coming to her aid. It made no sense. He hadn’t done anything for Dani when it was her turn in the woods, and he actually cared for Dani. It was almost as if, with each step, the strings of fate pulled tighter, forcing him off in a direction antithetical to his very will. So, off he went.
The two times Maude led the shunned to the Shunning Place, she took them to the very spot upon which he stood before disappearing into the vegetation. But beyond that point, Jack had no idea where to go next. He stood and waited for revelation. Then came a rustling. A twig snapped. Jack wanted to scream but would rather die than wake Thomas and be discovered - even if all he was doing was bringing the man’s sister a strictly meaningless meal.
“Hey! Who goes thare, ye bludie bampot? Ah’ll…Jack? Thon ye, chum?!”
“Dane? Dane MacKinnon?! Oh!!! I’m so glad it’s you!” Jack yelled, forgetting he was trying to be quiet.
“Avi telt me…”
“Shh!”
“Oh, sorry,” Dane whispered. “She telt me ye were here, bit ah didnae expect tae find ye wanderin’ around oot sae late! Ye alricht? Ye leuk a wee peely wally.”
“I’m fine. Just glad you weren’t a murderer. Where you coming from, anyway?”
“O, ah couldnae sleep, sae ah went oot fir a midnicht hunt,” he said, holding up his bow. “N’ ye?”
“ Enyee? ” Jack asked himself before his translation skills kicked in. “Oh, gotcha. It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you sometime. But listen, do you know where the Shunning Place is?”
“The Shunnin’ Place? Ye mean th’ ootdoor lavvy?”
“No. Not exactly. Is there like a…a…small building out in this direction that’s maybe older feeling or not as nice as the rest of the house?”
“Aye. The hunting lodge is only aboot twa hundrit meters thon way.”
“Thon way?” Jack pointed as he asked.
“Aye. Richt ower thare.”
“Thanks, Dane. You’re a lifesaver. But hey, would you mind not mentioning this to anyone? Especially Thomas?”
“Thomas is here too?! Avi didnae mention it. Aye. Ah kin dae that.”
“Yeah?”
“Aye,” Dane said as he continued walking homeward. “N’ if ye ever want tae get oot and clear yer head, ah could aye use a huntin’ chum.”
“Sounds good. Thanks again, mate,” Jack said as Dane blended into black.
Two hundred meters felt like two hundred million, but eventually, onyx gave way to the vague shape of a man-made structure. Jack discerned the faint red wave of a fire’s light emanating through one of the windows, but his focus on its glow caused the boulder-sized stone jutting out of the ground to go unnoticed.
“Ahh!” Jack shouted as he reached for his bashed and throbbing knee.
“Who’s…who’s out there?!” he heard Zuri yell from inside.
“It’s me!”
“Jack?” she asked as she came to the front door.
“Yeah. Ah, that stings.”
“You alright? What are you doing here?”
“Just thought I’d bring you something. Can I come in for a minute?”
“You brought me something? Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine. Are you gonna let me in or not?”
“Fine. But make it quick. I’m tired, and you tend to be exhausting.”
Zuri went back inside the hunting lodge but left the door open for Jack to follow. Once inside, Jack was surprised by what he found.
“Oh, bollucks! This is…nice! I mean, it’s no five-star hotel, but it’s much better than I pictured…and not at all how Dani described it.”
“It’s fine,” she said.
“But you looked so miserable at elimination.”
“Yes, well, that’s how Mick asked me to act, so...I’m confused. Did you just want to see the place, or did you actually have something for me?”
Jack forced an expression of indifference and nonchalantly threw the to-go box onto the small wooden table next to Zuri’s hay bed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Some type of inexpensive meat. Just my way of saying…you know…thanks or whatever for not making me go on a date with you.”
After examining the box’s contents, Zuri closed it and handed it to Jack, saying, “I can’t eat this.”
“Why not?”
“It’s soaked in port jus.”
“So?” he asked, returning the package to sender.
“So,” she responded while trying and failing to push it back into Jack’s possession. “I’m allergic to Worcestershire sauce.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing they make their port jus with soy sauce instead of wor?—
“Don’t try to pronounce it, please. How do you know they use soy sauce?”
“I asked.”
“Why…why would you…ask?”
Zuri’s tone had gone from frustrated to one of warm, congenial curiosity. Did he really have to explain himself? Couldn’t a spoiled, egotistical, self-absorbed millionaire remember that his lifelong enemy had a rare food allergy without it meaning something more?
“I don’t know. Doesn’t everyone hate wor…that sauce?”
“I guess,” she said as she slowly lowered the meal to her side. “So, it’s not that you remembered I was allergic?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I knew somewhere deep in the back of my subconscious, but…”
Jack said before Zuri’s skeptical and inquisitive grin made him change course. “But it’s cold, so you may need to cook it over the fire or something. Or - if you prefer - eat it raw, like sushi. That’s fine, too.”
“But cold and raw are two different…you know what? Nevermind. Thank you, Jack,” she said, extending her hand like a rigid and extremely platonic olive branch.
Jack took her hand, gave it one stiff shake, and promptly let go.
Rather than say goodbye, Zuri - with more cordiality than she’d ever exuded in his presence - said, “Tosser…”
And with a gentleman’s nod, Jack replied, “Twit…” before making his AM exit into the suddenly, very warm night.