Chapter 9: Crazy

'Goats are like mushrooms, if you shoot a duck, I'm scared of toasters,' I state.

'I'm sorry?' the man replies. I don't know what he is sorry about but I'll forgive him in advance. It's probably not his fault anyway. I mean, look at the man, he wouldn't even hurt a worm. Or however that saying goes.

'I'm quoting a genius,' I point my chin upwards and cross my arms, like someone who doesn't know what they're talking about.

'Which one?' he asks, casually, while parking the car. As if this isn't a conversation concerning life and death.

'Einstein.'

'Really?' He smirks, he thinks I'm joking. But I'm being dead serious.

'No.' I'm being dead serious, for the most part.

He puts his arm around my seat as he's reversing the car. His sleeve creeps up a little, causing me to be able to see a tattoo on his forearm. It's a killer whale, jumping up from the water. In his jaws is a small shark. How unnecessarily violent.

'Why do you have that tattoo?'

He looks at the tattoo like he's seen it for the first time, just now. Similar to when you ask people something about their clothing and they look down like someone else has clothed them. Like it's a surprise for them too.

'Oh, that. It's... Something from my job.'

I laugh, 'What's your job, tattooing?' I'm joking, of course, tattooing isn't a real job! Just imagine a world where you pay people to permanently draw something on your skin. It can't be that hard, it's not like when you mess up, the mistake is there forever...

'You know what, sure. It's not that far off.' He checks the mirrors and watches the door of the hotel we just pulled up on.

'What? You're actually a tattooer? No... He's just joking...'

'Well, not exactly a tattoo artist... but I do sometimes do things with sharp objects that have... permanent effects on other people.' Again, that smirk. But what is he laughing about??

Oh... Oh, wait... I do remember something that might involve sharp objects.

'Kinky.'

He frowns, confused, but lets it go.

'This is the hotel we're staying in. I need to check if it's safe, so I can't take you with me. You need to stay in the car.'

A butterfly flies past the car. It's a white one.

I'm back at the meadows, my safe place. The hills roll like waves behind me, the grass is as soft as alpaca's wool, and a watery spring sun warms my face. He's standing in the distance, in his white lab coat. Always that deep frown on his face, somehow both disappointed and worried at the same time. Funny that I see him now, at the moment I've finally seemed to escape his grasp.

'Okay?'

I'm back in the car. I blink a few times to get rid of the blurry vision, revealing the roadside hotel. The butterfly is gone, the man in black is back.

'Nod if you hear me.'

I nod with my eyes still fixated on something in the distance. I pull my knees up to my chest. The hospital gown is letting me down because I'm getting cold. The slippy socks do help but they can't stop me from shivering.

He notices and reaches towards the backseat. 'Here,' he says, handing me a blanket, 'take this.'

While I get comfortable under the blanket, he gets out and disappears into the hotel. Barely a couple of seconds later, I hear two voices approaching from the only other car in the parking lot.