THE LIFE AND TIMES OF CONNOR FERGUS

CONTINUES:

Fergus climbed the short flight of metal stairs up to the old fashioned wooden door with the big pane of glass in the top, opened it, and stepped into the small vestibule that separated the outside world from the rest of the house.  The inside door was frosted glass,( so someone in the vestibule couldn't see in ) which never made any sense to him.  He had always thought the outside door should have been frosted glass - not the inside.

He opened the inner door and stepped into the front room, once the parlor, but now the room he used as his office.  His desk sat in the bay window, where he could watch his street.

He threw his keys on the desk and thought, for a moment, about diving back into that file that still bothered the shit out of him, but decided, instead, to go into the kitchen at the back of the house and pull a beer out of the fridge.

That's when he saw the shadow flit across the window at the back of the kitchen, headed away from the back door.  By the time he got to the window, a figure was vaulting the back gate in the yard and climbing on the back end of a motorcycle, which then took off.

He opened the kitchen door to look at the lock.  It had scratches.  Someone had tried to break in.  After searching the house and especially his desk, he decided that whomever it was, they hadn't gotten in. 

The only thing in his house anyone would want was that file.

He walked over to his desk and picked up the file.  "Someone seems to want you pretty badly."  Fergus talked to himself, once in a while.  And to inanimate objects, too.

"Well, my little papery friend, you and I are going to bed together.  I don't trust you down here, all by yourself.  You might decide to run off with the first little beggar that picks you up - and we can't have that.  I still haven't figured out just what it is you're trying to tell me - and I certainly don't want to lose track of you before I do.  So what do you say we secure the house and go upstairs together, where we can sleep and explore your messages in the morning, okay?"

"Yeah.  I thought so, too.   Good idea."


Ndinombethe.  Ubuntu.