Crick turned on the coffeemaker, sat down, and lit his first cigarette of that Wednesday morning, the day after the nationwide midterm elections. He’d left Velis curled up comfortably under the blanket, sublime to look upon in her unabashed nakedness where she left herself uncovered. He had often found it curious that the females of their species so closely resembled little else than short, green hume women, yet he had never held human women in the same regard as his own people. Biological instinct, he told himself. No avoiding it.
He knew she wouldn’t be as intensely vested in the results as he was on the midterms. Too tired to stay up and watch the night before, he’d gotten up early, and now settled a lone ear bud into his left ear, hopping on his phone and queuing up Hulu to watch the morning’s follow-up news on the results. The moment he turned on Fox 9 the bright ticker running across the bottom of the screen captured his primary focus; it was running the Minnesota State House results, and was in the mid-20’s for district calls. His district, 55A, would show in mere minutes.
Moving as quickly and quietly as he could, the goblin cook snatched up two mugs, filled one, added his creamer and sugar, and returned to the table in time to see “District 45: Escher(D)- 47% Langer (R) – 40% Muntz (I) – 13%”. He sipped his coffee and listened to the morning hosts talk about the Wild’s most recent misfortunes on the ice, a classic drubbing at the hands of the Colorado Avalanche, 6 to 2. After what felt like an eternity, there, on the bottom ticker, came the result he’d been waiting for the most:
“MN House District 55A- Hanson (D): 29% Kroetch (R): 33% Tanno (I): 38%”
The elven owner of Tanno’s Pub, a small watering hole on the border of Savage and Burnsville, an avowed political independent and native of Caldea, had won his race. The Outworlder wasn’t the first of his people to ever be elected to public office in the nation, but he was the first in the state of Minnesota. One of ours got in, Crick thought with a spreading grin. “Sure, he’s an elf, but a win’s a win,” he said to himself quietly. Several more results streamed across the screen before he took that first sip of coffee, letting his mind wander somewhat loosely as he turned the volume down on his ear bud.
It was perhaps fifteen more minutes before Velis came in and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, perching her head on his left shoulder. “Morning, sweetheart,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “What’re you watching?”
“Just the news,” he said, untethering his earpiece so that she could listen as well, sliding his phone to the middle of the table and turning up the volume on it. “Wild got shellacked last night.”
“Yeah, well, it’s Colorado. Not exactly a shocker,” she replied evenly, walking over to the counter by the coffeemaker and plucking up the mug he had prepared for her, giving him a grin and a curious tilt of the head. “Sugar?”
“Nope, just a heavy dose of creamer, just like you like it,” he replied. She stood there beaming at him happily in her heavy red bathrobe, just shaking her head ever so slightly.
“We’ve barely been together two, almost three months, and you already know how I take my coffee,” she said. “Where the hell were you ten years back?”
“Probably just working and getting by day to day,” he answered with a shrug. She joined him at the table, putting her right hand gently over top his left, and together, they drank their coffee and listened to the news together, not another word needing to be exchanged for a little while. Around seven-thirty, she got up, patted his hand, and hopped to the shower to get ready for her shift at the county sheriff’s. When she came out, finding him still in the kitchen, lighting another cigarette for himself, she carried her shoes over and sat next to him again, clearing her throat. “So, I was thinking,” she began.
“I’ve been told that’s dangerous stuff, that thinking,” he quipped.
“I think maybe I should put in for a shift change,” she said, pulling her shoes on. “So that we can spend more time together.”
“That’d be nice, but you know what? It’d probably be easier for me to make that switch,” Crick replied. “Chef Taylor’s been trying to get one of us on nights to switch to mornings anyway, so it should be easy-peasy.”
“You’d do that?” He just shrugged and nodded, and she gave him another quick kiss after pulling on her other shoe. “Okay. I’ll see you when you get home tonight, hon.”
“Have a good one, dear,” he replied, waiting until she had headed out before heading down the hall to the bathroom for his own shower. Cleaned up and feeling ready for the day, Crick gathered up his phone, seeing that he had missed a phone call from Libras. He quickly dialed the golem back, and waited several moments until the big fellow picked up. “Hey, Lib. It’s Crick. I see I missed your call?”
“Oh, yes, thank you for returning the call so promptly, Mr. Solo- Crick,” the golem said, correcting himself midway through once again returning to using the goblin’s surname as his form of address. “Sam suggested I call you to see if you would like to join us at noon for lunch and celebrations today at Tanno’s Pub, to congratulate our newly elected state representative’s victory. I too shall be in attendance, though I do not have any particular desire to attempt to imbibe alcoholic beverages with you. Or food, for that matter. But then, that’s more owing to my unique physiology, not because of any statement against bar food.”
“It’s either great or it’s ass, there’s no need to sugarcoat it, big guy,” Crick replied dryly. “I remember what happened when you put those Doritos into your head at the last group meeting, the way the ranch ones stayed in and vanished, and how the taco ones flew out one of those sides like little ninja stars.”
“They are atrocious, Crick! Something that does not taste at all like tacos should not claim to be flavored in such a fashion! Adherents of various faiths have a word for that- heresy!” Crick snickered despite himself, knowing full well that Libras wasn’t trying to be overly dramatic; that was just how the golem was. He was possessed of his own spirit, his own soul, as it were, but he was still very much discovering how to function as an everyday member of society. Like a little kid with a huge vocabulary, Crick often thought. Super well-spoken, but with no filter or idea of what he’s saying sometimes.“In any event, we shall look forward to seeing you then for a brief bit before you must head to work.”
Crick hung up and struck up another cigarette, fetching his laptop and visiting his usual websites to get caught up on national and local events. The Star Tribune had a small article, he discovered, regarding the old minotaur shaman from his building who had been assaulted not long before; Crick’s recently jubilant mood took a hit as he read the piece, discovering that the old timer had ultimately succumbed to his injuries, and had passed away just a few days after he had been taken to the hospital. He’d been hoping that he hadn’t seen the old man around just because he was laid up in recovery, but no; the simple, stark truth of the matter was that the Reaper had come to collect, and been paid in full.
After finishing his read-through of this piece, Crick got up from his kitchen table and made his way back to the bedroom, taking a few moments to make the bed properly. When he was finished, he opened the closet, crouching down and reaching back to a little cubby to the immediate right on the floor, almost bending his wrist backward to grab the tiny box tucked away there. There hadn’t been much left behind for him or his brother in their father’s will when the old man passed, but there had been a few small treasures bequeathed to his sons. For Crick, there had been this small ghostwood box that he presently pulled from its hiding place, popping it open to reveal several gorgeously inlaid rings within, any one of them more than worthy of serving as an engagement band.
Of course, only these two are her size, he thought, pulling the two candidates out to look them over once more. One of them was a fused duo band of mithril and platinum, twining about one another like coiled serpents. A single small ruby was housed upon it, a blood red that would contrast with her green hand splendidly. The other was a banded scale, which his father had once told him was a tiny sliver from a blue dragon’s hide plate, dusted with some shimmering substance, polished to a high shine. He wondered for a moment which one she would prefer, though he suspected he already knew. Placing all of the other rings into a small black velvet bag with a drawstring, he left the twin-band-and-ruby ring in the ghostwood box, and placed said box back into its cubby spot, putting the drawstring bag into one of his totes filled with old books he’d never brought back out after finishing them.
“Soon,” he said to himself, closing the closet.
**
Sam tilted his head to one side, one eye twitching as he watched another thick steak-cut French fry vanish inside of Libras’s head, the golem making some kind of low, satisfied sound deep in its chest. “This is just weird,” the lizardman mechanic observed, sipping his beer. Crick smiled, shaking his head and raising his bottle of soda with a waggle to their passing server, who snagged it from him with a practiced grace.
“You want another one of these, darlin’,” the half-elf girl asked.
“I want a beer, but I have to drive to work in a little bit here, so yeah, just another one of those for now,” the goblin cook replied, easing back into his seat. He looked over to the golem once more, and nodded. “So, how are you feeling about your citizenship exam?”
“Oh, I am quite confident that I will be able to pass it without trouble,” Libras replied. “And once I am a recognized and fully legal citizen of the nation, I believe it would behoove me to try and obtain some sort of documentation regarding my knowledge set. A degree, as it were.”
“Do you really need that, though,” Sam asked. “We already know you’re plenty smart, big guy. And it’s not like you’re hurting for money right now; I’ve never seen you buy much of anything.”
“This is true, but I do not wish to be in your debt for an extended period of time, Sam. It’s no offense meant to you, but I would like to become more of an independent person, once I’m a fully recognized person, as it were. There are certain vocations for which there seems to be no alternative to entry outside of bringing with oneself a degree from an accredited institution of higher education. From what I have surmised from online perusal, the only accepted means of getting such is by attendance to such an institution, despite the current socio-political atmosphere of such places seeming to relegate most of them to the status of little more than expensive daycare centers for grown persons.” Crick and Sam exchanged a quick look of curiosity, then turned their attention to the golem.
“Personal assessment,” Crick asked.
“I do not require sleep. I watch a lot of online video content,” said Libras dryly. “Most of what I have seen is not encouraging.” The golem turned his pyramid-like head this way and that, leaning forward over the small bar table and speaking in a lower, conspirator’s rasp, “It seems as if many college-attending individuals these days are celebratory about their own mental health crises and illnesses, and wish to advertise them to the world writ large. This seems self-injurious at best.”
“That’s what college kids have been like for most of the last 20-30 years, buddy,” Sam replied, snickering. “Trust me when I tell you that it isn’t new.”
“Don’t the professors on staff warn their students about such brazen displays of neurotic or aberrant behavior,” the golem asked, perplexed.
“Ninety percent of the time, it’s those very same professors these kids are learning this shit from,” Crick replied, sipping his freshly arrived soda. “We’re not trying to say there’s never a good reason to do college, but for the time being, I think we’d both just recommend you focus on becoming a citizen, and we’ll help you figure out your next steps together. Hey, there’s the man of the hour,” the goblin said with a smile, standing on his chair and pointing to Devon Tanno as the elven proprietor came out of the pub’s kitchen in back with a tray laden with food in hand, himself beaming from pointed ear to pointed ear. “To Rep Tanno,” Crick called out, to the applause and raised bottles of the rest of the pub’s attendants. The pub owner bowed and thanked his customers, setting down his tray on the ordering table and making his way around, shaking hands and thanking his patrons for their support. When he came around to Sam, Libras and Crick’s table, he paused, staring at the golem openly.
“Holy Manak’rea,” the elven businessman rasped, shaking his head slightly. “I’d heard some rumors here and there around town, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you before,” he said to the large automaton.
“That is not surprising, given the nature of my day-to-day experiences. Also, I do not think you are a member of the support group which brought the three of us together,” said the golem. “Greetings to you, sir. I am named Libras.” The elf reached out a hand and shook with the golem, then Sam, then finally Crick.
“Sam Coffet.”
“Crick Solomon. Congrats again on the election, Mr. Tanno. You think you’ll be splitting your time between here and the capital, then?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, this place mostly runs itself when Molly’s here,” the elven gentleman replied, hands on his hips. “My daughter,” he said, pointing to the woman behind the bar. “It was just the two of us brought over when the portals ripped through Caldea; my wife was with her Wilds Guard unit when it happened, training exercises on the outskirts of the kingdom. And though running this place has been great, it doesn’t require a lot of my time or efforts. I can be much more effective helping with state-level affairs.”
“Which reminds me,” Sam said, taking a quick sip of his beer. “Have you thought at all about bringing up these H1st folks when the new Congressional session starts?” The elven barman quirked his lips for a moment, slowly shaking his head.
“I’ve heard and read a lot about those people, but I’ll tell you the truth of it; I don’t think they’re as big a threat as some folks would have us believe,” Tanno replied after a moment. “The things we see from them, sure, they’re pretty awful. But I think there’s more noise about them than from them. Now, I know, there was some kind of thwarted attack by a couple of them just over in Prior Lake not that long ago.”
“The Loon Café,” Crick grumbled. “Where I work. Trio of minotaur brothers got the jump on them when they came in to start trouble.”
“I’m sorry to hear you’ve had to deal with them personally, takari,” Tanno said, using the native goblin word for ‘friend’. “Given that it was minotaurs who intercepted them, I almost feel bad for those humans.”
“Feel bad for the table they broke over those shmucks’ heads,” Crick replied. “But I suppose I can understand your point, Mr. Tanno. It’s not like they’re even a big number of humes.”
“Exactly. What I’m going to be bringing up at the capital is exactly what I campaigned on; getting the government out of people’s hair. That’s what folks around here want, and that’s what I’m going to try to make sure happens for them. Anyhow, your next round’s on the house, gentlemen,” said Tanno, making a hand gesture toward his daughter at the bar, who nodded and started getting another beer and cream soda at the ready. As Crick polished off his current drink, he wondered how much things might actually change in the coming year, now that the elections were done and over with.
He supposed he’d just have to keep an eye on current events to find out.