I told Thursday "Go get one of them midget honor guards and tell them to find Zane and bring him here." I smiled at Mr. Lowell and said "You don't have a problem with that do you?" He was looking a little ill and just nodded his head in agreement. "Good" I told him. I added "We just had a misunderstanding...didn't we?" He nodded again. I let him go and stepped away from him. He looked like he was going to bark any second.
I smiled at Mrs. Greene. She didn't return it. Instead she snarled and said "You wait. You heathen, foreigner loving, terrorist piece of crap. You wait..." She shut up. Not because of me. Mr. Greene was giving her the death glare though I didn't find it all that scary. I told her, speaking quietly, "Talk to me like that again and Mr. Lowell will be cleaning your head off the wall with a sponge." She looked like the type that keeping her mouth shut was something she wasn't accustomed too. I gave her ten minutes before I painted the wall with her poor excuse of a brain.
Thursday strode into the office. He was perking up. I guess the old guy enjoyed this. It had to be better than sitting around in a village outpost watching a lot of nothing go by. I also noticed the gloves he had tucked into his WWF belt were now on his hands and the hammer was out and being carried. The hammer looked different too. It was lighter in color but it was inside illumination rather than a metallic shine. Mr Lowell was gripping the counter edge tightly but his color was better.
"What's up Thursday?"
"One of the little men went to find him. He will bring him here."
I looked at Mrs. Greene and asked her "Got anything to say?"
She opened her mouth, thought better of it, and shut it. I laughed.
Two minutes later I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Light ones. Kid sounding ones. Honor Guard kid came in and saluted the room, he said "Corporal Zane Morton is here." He then did a snappy about face and left. Probably back to his post. That's when Zane stepped in the room, saluted, and said "Reporting as ordered sir."
I stared at him. He wasn't much to look at. Just a scrawny kid in a green t-shirt and khaki shorts. His corporal stripes had been drawn his t-shirt sleeve with a black magic marker. There was just a couple problems that I was trying to process and I was having difficulty doing it. The flow in the room changed when he entered. Not just a little. A lot. He didn't have any African American ancestry. At least not in the last 40,000 years or so. No, that I was certain of. What was also I was certain of was I knew who his daddy was. It just didn't seem possible. I tried doing the math in my head but it wouldn't compute. I was looking at Max's son.