A pile of dishes soaked in water mixed with soap. I scrubbed one of the plates, then rinsed it in the sink of clean water before placing it on a drying rack. Leslie had cooked for Ramona and me and I’d lost the game that decided who would do the dishes.
Ramona’s newspaper rustled as she turned the page. Surprisingly, she was not sitting upside down.
“That’s the third murder this week,” she commented from behind me. “Shouldn’t you do something?”
“Whaeakdmlgjhadojskoo?” came Leslie’s reply.
“You’re the director of the Strokes. Of course – ”
Clang! A pot landed on the floor.
“You alright, Dax?” Leslie called as I picked up the pot.
“Yeah, fine,” I replied, scooping up the fallen dish and returning to my task. The director! Suddenly Ramona debating with Leslie about interfering with the System made a whole lot more sense. Even though I knew my condition was to blame for me not knowing, I couldn’t help feeling so clueless. How could I have not figured out that much?
“Yosudfnkelwhefits outside the Strokes jurisdicition,” I heard Leslie continue.
“Are you sure?” Ramona asked.
Finished with the washing, I joined the two of them at the table.
Leslie frowned, reaching across the table for Ramona’s paper, their purple and yellow nail polish glinting in the sunlight drifting in from the open doorway. They read through the article intently.
“Yep,” Leslie stated, tossing the paper onto the table, avoiding Ramona’s gaze. “Outside the Strokes jurisdiction.”
I glanced curiously at the headline: Murder on the Rise.
“Don’t you dare lie to me, Leslie,” Ramona said coldly, her palms flat against the table. “Someone from another city is doing this, right?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Leslie replied as I grabbed the newspaper.
The article wasn’t very detailed other than to say the murders began recently. Even though the victims were in different areas of Illagu, the people investigating had suspicions it was the same person commiting the crimes. I wasn’t sure where Ramona was getting the idea that some other Outcast city was responsible.
“Leslie,” Ramona said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Leslie repeated.
Ramona sighed, leaning back in the chair with her arms crossed.
“Excuse me,” 216894 called from the door.
“Yes!” I exclaimed, standing up from my seat quickly.
216894 looked at me wide-eyed as I jogged up to him. “Um, I was given… whatever these are… today.” He held up three light brown bars about the size of soap wrapped in plastic.
“Ooh, dessert!” Ramona called when she saw them. “You don’t have those in the System?” she asked as she walked up to us.
“What are they?” I asked.
“Cajeta. It’s made from goat’s milk.”
216894 smiled nervously. “Can I… come in to share?”
“Certainly,” Ramona replied.
“Ramona, this isn’t our – ” I started.
“Thanks!” 216894 replied, following Ramona into Leslie’s apartment. I’d known the two of them were close – it shouldn’t have surprised me that she would treat the place as her second home.
Leslie remained silent as 216894 made himself comfortable, scowling at him the whole time.
To be continued…