Things are good. Better than they’ve been since before… god damn, I‘d forgotten how much fun things can be. I en’t been so close to another person in far too long. Why don’t we do this more often?!
I’ll start where I left off. Mr. DelRay asked for a dance—the court waltz, no less. That’s a tradition, I guess. Quite the show, lots of fancy maneuverin’ and pretty effects and such. I spotted Ondrej dancin’ with… what’s her name… Ms. Neha, I think it is, and Red out on the floor with some pretty little raccoon. Don’t know her, but apparently he does. I didn’t see Mr. Masa, but he’s easy ’nough to miss.
To my delight, I got a second dance.. and a third… and then some. I may have forgotten to save Red a dance, but I’m sure he won’t mind too terribly. Either way, after a little bit of banter, I… accompanied the Ambassador home. (Hell knows I needed to.) Woke up the next mornin’ with a hangover to beat the band, but that en’t surprisin’.
Quite the gentleman, Mr. DelRay. He invited me to dinner the next night, there’s a fine Middle Eastern restaurant at the Luxor and he knows a fella who got him a table. He’s an interesting man, is Dirge. Told me ‘bout how he came by his nickname, some business in Texarkana that went south; said it wasn’t somethin’ you could really blame them for, but that en’t goin’ to fix it, and nobody goes there any more. Said he didn’t talk about it, just sang—hence, the moniker. Told me a little ‘bout where he’s been, too (all over, apparently), he traveled Hedgeside for a long while. Said he had a good guide.
I remembered to ask him about Leah, but didn’t get much out of him. Says he rambled out this way not too long after things went down, but that was it. He says Ms. Silver is testin’ me (and I knew that, but the whole deal is only testin’ my patience. Nobody says anything straight out, it’s always beatin’ around the bush…). I’m gonna have to talk to her (Leah, that is) directly, I think. I’ve got some words for her.
Christmas day was uneventful, but fun. Sat around with my brothers eatin’ Chinese, pizza and tacos, playing cards and drinkin’. That ought to happen more often too, I think.
Anyway, somethin’ happened earlier that’s weighin’ on my mind at the moment. Red got himself into a Hedge duel on Enrico‘s behalf. It went all right, I mean Red’s alive (Ondrej called in a mob doc to take a look at him), and he ought to be fine even with all the poison runnin’ through him. He’ll be in pain for a while, but he can handle it, I’m sure. He’s tough. Problem is, his opponent… well, he’s in a bad way. Don’t know if he’s still hangin’ onto this mortal coil. If he’s dead, I don’t know how Red’ll take it. That’s what worries me most— he’s been sneakin’ ‘round lately, and I don’t know what for. He came out of the hollow madder’n a hornet earlier…
That aside, remind me that I have to talk to Mr. David about gettin’ some backup. Mr. DelRay is lookin’ for a regular gig, and I said I’d put in a word for him. Heh, just thinkin’ about the music I could make (… and already have…) with that man…
Like I said, things are good right now.
Here’s to hopin’ they stay that way, ‘least for a while. I’m lookin’ forward to another dinner with Mr. DelRay, and I’ve got a song in the works—good thing this notebook has staff paper. Eminently thoughtful, is Ondrej. Oh, speakin’ of, we might be movin’ to the penthouse upstairs. Won’t that be fine…
“Storm on the horizon, and thunder rollin’ in
See that storm on the horizon, can’t you hear the thunder rollin’ in
And one little blues-bird, swept up and turned about on the wind…”