7.30 Time to move on

Andria was sleeping better these days. The bed was big and empty, but it was comfortable and familiar.

She also rediscovered her old passions.

There were still alchemy

And even more fun, new cooking techniques!

Old Connery spent most of his time sleeping, but he slept like a king.

And Winston practiced… and performed… and practiced performing.

At home, in private, while he was nursing sore muscles, he might call his mentor Tyrone Biggs a slave driver, but he made sure that never happened where the acrobatics guru could hear him.

How many mentors forced their apprentices to balance on a wet, slippery ball on a chill rainy day? If I catch my death of cold, it will be all his fault, Winston stewed as his hand slipped yet again and he barely avoided falling on his head. Or a cracked skull. He’s going to give me traumatic brain injury, that’s what.

Biggs, however, was finally starting to be impressed by what he saw.

As the rain cleared and the sun began to set, Winston was still thinking murderous thoughts as he juggled, but Biggs was wreathed in smiles.

“I think I’ve seen enough,” Tyrone said.

Winston broke his concentration and let the batons fall around him to the stage. “You mean I can stop?” he asked. “Finally?” Every part of his body ached.

“Yeah, come down,” Tyrone said.

Winston gathered up has equipment and sloshed soggily to his mentor. He could already guess the mistakes that Biggs was going to point out, but he had no energy to try again today.

He was taken completely by surprise, then, when Biggs grabbed his hand and shook it. “Bravo,” he said. “You were amazing.”

Winston blinked. “I was what?”

“I think you are officially better than I was at my peak,” Tyrone continued. “I have nothing more to teach you. From here on out, I can no longer be your mentor. Consider us peers.”

“Wow!” Vickie said when he had told her the story. “Congratulations! You’re in the big time now!”

“I don’t know,” Winston said slowly. “Now it’s just me. I don’t have anyone to help me improve. What if I can’t go any further without Bigg’s guidance?”

“That’s nonsense,” Vickie said firmly. “I’ve seen you up there. You’re great. You can push yourself just as hard and Biggs ever did.”

Winston let himself relax. “Yeah, thanks sis.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said. “Now you go take a shower and get out of those soggy clothes before you catch your death of cold.”

Winston grinned. “Glad to know you still think I can take care of myself.”

On a bright, sunny morning, Vickie answered the call of the sea. The wreck of the Mango Marauder still held some secrets, and she planned to spend the afternoon investigating.

Once she slipped into the water, however, her plans changed.

Something… someone… surfaced nearby.

Mermaids in Avalon? Vickie thought of them as creatures who preferred to live in tropical climates.

“H- hello?” she said. “Are you new here? Welcome to Avalon?”

The mermaid held her gaze for another long moment. He was almost close enough to touch.

Then he dove, brushing lightly against her as he swam swiftly away.

Vickie watched as he dropped out of sight below the water. “Wow,” she said. “That was weird.”


Avalon Gossip column:

Rod’s rebound relationship with cougar Claire James ended in a shouting match like almost every relationship Claire has dated for three generations.

After which, she finally said the last goodbye to the neighborhood. She didn’t slow down to the very end. I assume she got what she wanted and enjoyed kicking guys to the curb. She sure didn’t like them clingy.

I will miss the reports of her exploits.

 

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