LONG MY DAZE I HAVE EQUALLED ALWAYS TO TAKE MY OWN ERRAND PATH

1. Stop by the Cinnamines

The prospector they’d ne’er met rubbed his prickling chin & sang an ol’time jig:

Edgar looked down @ the grass, pale in the gray air, with the gripping hands like a child who can do nothing, but ne’ertheless feels guilty for doing nothing.

Autumn only wished that prospector would find better prospects elsewhere so she could try budging that useless cat without him spilling his eyeballs all o’er her continued incompetence or have him harrumphing her ’bout not following his inane advice.

So she stepped up right to the cat’s back, where its black & dark-gray-striped tail curled round its ’hind & back feet.

¿How strong a sleeper could it be?

She tried prodding it all round its tail, feet, & knee; but the best she could manage was getting it to punt a foot back. She tried tickling its foot as hard as she could, but it only kept kicking back with crescendoing force.

2. Stop by Wasabi Woods for Itchy Dust

3. Stop by an Equipment Store for Helmets

4. Return to Wasabi Woods to Pick up Itchy Dust

Autumn looked up @ the sky & shivered @ the sight o’ its deepening dimness.

Edgar, come, Autumn called out as she dashed toward the city horizon, glowing orange as the sun loomed close ’bove.

5. Stop by the Plum Pub to Talk to the Crow

Autumn formed a stiff frown @ Edgar’s compliment. It’s not yet dark, so we’ll have to wait a while.

That’s no problem, said Edgar.

But Autumn did feel a bit o’ buoyancy, despite the way the world was procrastinating her all day. ’Twas strange: more oft she answered lost control with the synapses o’ a rabid ferret oven-locked; but this gave ample time to stir her thoughts — & Autumn ne’er had time to stir her thoughts.

¿Were you…?.

Autumn looked up & saw Edgar turning his head round the pub. She followed him, but saw nothing but — O… She just noticed a couple couples dancing violently round the tables after chugs o’ mug after mug o’ coffee. This & the radioactive flashes o’ neon hue after neon hue made them look like hyper alien demons.

She shrunk back from the force, the movement. You know I can’t dance…. Her words were swept ’way as debris-by-broom by the booming music.

But Edgar replied, O, yeah… I just thought… Yeah. I wasn’t — I’m not — I can’t dance, either.

Autumn slipped her hand back. I’m sorry.

O, no, it’s fine. Edgar was almost sounding urgent.

She laid her hand back onto the table, & then he laid his on hers, & then she laid her other on his other. She could feel the criminally soft satin o’ his robe sleeve brush up & down on her extremities. She twisted her thighs together tightly, beginning to regret the effect her recent superfluity o’ caffeine was having on her heart.

Autumn turned to Edgar with sorrow & said, Sorry, baby-pup: business.

They rose & walked up to the crow. ’Scuse me, Madame — you, the crow. ¿What is your name, please?.

A tint o’ annoyance filled the crow’s eyes, & she moved thru the tables mo’ swiftly, not e’en turning her head. This caused Autumn & Edgar to stand back a bit. Autumn bit her lip, torn ’tween sympathy for an aversion to being hassled by strangers & a need to further her quest.

Then the fear o’ flubbing her chances o’errode her manners, & Autumn stepped closer & raised her volume a notch as she said, I was told you have itchy powder.

The crow said with a brass voice, ¿& what makes you think I’ll give some to you?

Autumn blinked for just a second before saying, ’Cause I’m prepared to offer money for it.

Having finished her order, the crow turned back to them with ire still in her eyes. ¿& what makes you think I need money?.

’Gain, Autumn kept her eyes level with the crow, her tone consistent.

’Cause it’s a capitalist world full o’ capitalist people.

The crow released a dry laugh. ¿Did you just come off some undergraduate business class @ your techie college, pumpkin? She took a long drag o’ her cigarette. ¿Do I look like 1 o’ you shabby people? ¿Do I look like I follow your vulgar ways, like I give a shit ’bout your nest padding?. An eye thinned, & seemed to become mo’ sour under the glittering lights. Get me the Last Fedora & I’ll give it to you. Nothing else, no money. Period.

Autumn took a deep but silent breath, hopeful that the crow couldn’t see her. Neither changed her expression.

¿Would you be willing to tell me where I might get it — or do you not know?.

The crow tapped her cigarette’s debris into a nearby tray & then began drilling it inside. If I knew, I’d already have it.

Autumn nodded. All right. Sorry for disturbing you, Madame.

Then she retired to their table, only to sit in Edgar’s chair facing the front door. Edgar eyed her quizzically for a moment, but then sat in Autumn’s seat in silence.

She leaned toward him o’er the table & whispered with a thumb jerked o’er her shoulder, Some guy o’er there’s been staring @ my breasts, that’s why.

Bafflement returned to Edgar’s face for e’en longer.

Autumn raised her mobile & began thumbing it. I guess the only choice we have is to look up this ‘Last Fedora’ online. This’ll liable take a while.

¿Autumn?.

Autumn started.

¿You want me to get you anything from the front desk?, continued Edgar.

Autumn nodded. Yes, thank you. Just a sandwich or something, please. Anything’ll do.

6. Rob the Crow to Get Her Itchy Dust

When the crow walked out the front door, Autumn delayed a beat before leaping to her feet & saying, Shit. I left — I left it on. She held Edgar’s hand down & said, Stay here; I’ll be right back, & then rushed out the front door.

She shuddered in relief when she saw the crow still there, — albeit tougher to see in the emaciated moonlight, outside the perimeter o’ the neon lights, forcing Autumn to squint to make out sable on obsidian — walking down the street @ a casual pace with her back to Autumn. Autumn followed a meter ’hind, turning her head side to side, rubbing her chin, & mouthing the words, Now, ¿where did he say ’twas?.

She kept following, & the crow didn’t change her steady step. Autumn threw her hood o’er her head, squirming in an imagined chill.

Idiot. ¿Why’d you try approaching her honestly? If you’d just waited, you wouldn’t have to worry ’bout her recognizing you.

How wrong she was — as if I’d e’er be accepted into a college, “techie” or not. No, quite contrary, I made the mistake o’ thinking I could do straight business, when my only business is straight stealing.

They reached a suburban area sparsed with woodland, with few streetlamps & fewer people.

Now or ne’er.

She surged forward & tackled the crow to the ground. Before the crow could squawk S.O.S., Autumn clamped a hand o’er her beak, causing her to flop under Autumn’s weight & steam Autumn’s hand thru her beak like a lit tea kettle. She fished thru the crow’s vest pockets, but found nothing but flat space & the bumpy metal shape o’ a key.

Fuck, fuck… Think….

In a corner o’ her mind squeaked a mouse, ¿Is this worth it anymo’? ¿Should we risk so much for a mere possibility?.

A possibility o’ riches grander than that pitiful ’scuse I have now. A need.

She leaned her face right ’side the crow’s & whispered, Listen, I don’t care ’bout yours or my pride or whate’er. I’m still willing to pay. Give me the itchy dust, & I won’t hurt you.

The force o’ the heat on her hand strengthened. She loosened her beak just a bit, ready to wrench it back on the second the crow began screaming. But the crow didn’t scream; she merely said in a hoarse whisper, Get off me & I’ll get it already.

Just tell me where it is, whispered Autumn.

The crow sighed. I can’t ’splain. You just don’t understand: I’m no human; my ways don’t work the ways o’ humans.

Autumn’s tone deepened. You won’t be in the same world as humans if you don’t tell me where the dust is.

She realized her breathing was dense & tense. She definitely wasn’t cold now: her face was saturated in sweat, her body a burning coal under her jacket. Every bone in her skin jittered.

I have it @ home…, croaked the crow.

Autumn dipped her head like a wilting dandilion. Fuck me….

Promise to spare my life & I’ll take you there.

Autumn’s heart raced.

¿What choice do I have? ¿Am I going to just stay here on top o’ her for eternity? Either I have to free her or murder her in the end, anyway.

No risk, no reward.

All right. Autumn pulled out a knife & held it to the crow’s neck. Don’t try anything.

All right, the crow said with alarming calmness.

Now let’s stand & you’ll lead me to your house.

All right.

But Autumn felt just as hampered, walking stiffly with 1 arm wrapped round the crow’s shoulder in a fucked-up parody o’ an embrace & the other holding the knife pressed to that feathery throat. So close, Autumn could sense the smell of ol’ newspapers invade her nostrils. Vibrations shot throughout the crow’s fringes, like a frightened chihuahua, like Edgar when he was scared.

You’re already evil. The worse you could do would be to abdicate after doing a half-evil just as vile as going full maleficent. You committed, now accept the consequences.

But Autumn’s nerves didn’t like the consequences into which she was walking. Meters ’head she saw the suburb break into a better-lit suburb, with people strolling by. Autumn stopped herself & the crow in the shade just outside & halted.

Shit, ¿How am I going to do this?.

She jolted when she saw a light beam on her. After surveying the vicinity, she realized ’twas the headlights o’ a car that had passed, & was now rounding a corner.

I can’t just stand here like a… Someone’ll see me here.

She focused mostly on stabilizing her shaking knife hand.

Then she heard sirens; & before she could move, she saw a police car slowing just ’side her. A cop in frizzy hair stepped out with a gun aimed @ her.

Let her go.

Autumn stared @ the gun coolly, & then slowly released the crow.

7. Get the Monster Key to ’Scape from Jail

She felt her jailmate’s eyes on her nape like crawling cockroaches as she stood before the bars, examining them.

It’s no use. There’s only 1 way to get thru those bars, & that’s the Monster Key. E’en the ol’ ‘Wall-Clip Trick’ don’t work here, with no loading zone to use.

¿O truly?, Autumn said in a dull voice as she turned back to her cellmate, a woman with healthier weight & muscle than Autumn named Traci with an I. ¿& where would this s’posed Monster Key for someone who s’posedly thought they could ’scape from places specifically designed to not be ’scaped be?.

I have it hid somewhere — & don’t think ’bout trying to steal it. Yeah, I know why you’re here, & that’ll work e’en less healthily for you like the last time, Autumn. The cellmate gave a big grin. I’d ask how someone with such a precious name ended up trying to slit some crow’s throat, but then ’gain, I don’t care, so I guess I won’t.

If you did, indeed, have this purported Monster Key, ¿why would you still be in here?.

Her jailmate stretched back on her top bunk with her arms crossed ’hind her head, the smug grin still renting out her face.

I like it better in here. Not as much stress. I inform you, it’s the outside that’s the real jail — in & out, in & out, the long commutes, the noisy honks, the clocks constantly clogging your mind with pinchpennied time…. The cellmate’s breathing had become somewhat burdened, with her posture & eyelids rising some pixels, only for all to fall back down to their earlier serenity.

¿& what would you want for this Monster Key?, asked Autumn.

The cellmate shrugged. ¿25 cigarettes?.

¿Whate’er happened to good ol’ money?.

Money’s strangled here, said the cellmate as she held her hand in a stiff claw. It can only be used to buy certain crap from this place’s monopolistic store; & the Cheka’ll notice if someone who had no money before suddenly uses too much without any outside gift or anything. No, cigarettes are the currency here.

I take it there aren’t e’en 25 cigarettes in this whole place.

O, there are. It’s not too hard to get some; just go round doing errands for other jailmates. I know, for instance, that Sammie wants an extra blanket, ’cause she gets über cold @ night & said she was willing to give a cigarette for 1.

¿Just 1?.

Cigarettes are worth far mo’ than ₧.

Trading her own blanket for Sammie’s cigarette was an easy 1. The other 24 would be far mo’ tedious:

Maddie wanted Autumn to spot her on her weightlifting, & then refused to give Autumn a cigarette with the ’scuse o’ Autumn “not doing it right”. Fortunately, Maddie wasn’t just belligerent, but also incompetent, & Autumn was able to sneak a pack full o’ 4 from her during outside break while she was rising from her bench seat to yabber with someone.

Esperanza had some strange fetish for seeing other people punch punching bags, so she offered a cigarette if Autumn could “fill the meter” before 3 minutes passed. Esperanza refused to ’splain what this “meter” was. Autumn expected that this was ’nother ’scuse to bilk her out o’ her due wages; but before the 3 minutes were all used, Esperanza stopped her & told her that the mystical “meter” had been filled, & gave her the cigarette after all.

Later that evening a guard approached their cell & informed Autumn that she had a visitor. She followed the guard down the halls to a thin but long room with 1 wall made o’ dusty glass. Autumn immediately spotted her visitor by his bony body & heliotrope robe ’mong the few & sat in the chair ’cross him, frowning uncomfortably @ the sad panic in his eyeholes.

Autumn, I don’t know how I can bail you out; I don’t have access to your account, & don’t know where any money you might have hid is.

Autumn shook her head. Don’t worry ’bout that. ¿Could you get me some cigarettes in here? I need a’least 19.

Edgar leaned as far back in his chair as he could. ¿What?.

Autumn sighed & looked down ’way from Edgar. Look… I need… OK.

Edgar tilted his head in curiosity as he drilled her with his eyeholes. OK… I’ll see what I can do.

@ the end o’ the next day she received a 25-cigarette pack inbound, making all o’ the other cigarettes she’d collected useless.

Once ’gain she expected to be stiffed somehow by her cellmate; but once ’gain, she was surprised when said cellmate congratulated her & handed her a key as large as her hand with the face o’ a bull monster @ the end.

8. ’Scape Jail to Return to Wasabi Woods

Autumn waited till ’bout an hour after lights-out. She dreaded that her cellmate might open her fat flytrap to ask her if she was fleeing tonight or to inquire why she was dallying; but as far as she knew, her neighbor had drifted off to sleep in the darkness, offering only the sounds o’ snores. Autumn was glad for them — & somewhat wondered if they were intentional to help her for this very purpose. Every creak as she sat up & slid off the bed made Autumn cringe. It made her also glad that her cellmate had dibsed the top bunk.

She plugged the key into the gate hole & expected it to not work. ’Gain her expectations went unmet.

The problem was, while the creaking was quiet ’nough that only her own wide-open ears could hear them, — or a’least took them to be mo’ than just bodys’ regular dreamtime exercises — she couldn’t see how anyone could miss the cry o’ the gate sliding open. But e’en after slipping back to her bed with a blanket-hid eye peering out, she didn’t see any flashlight beam stroll by nor hear anyone speak in the next 10 minutes.

If I wait any longer, it’ll be dawn already.

¡The Cinnamines await!.

She threw off her blanket & stepped out into the hall. It must’ve just been her imagination, but it seemed to her feet that the cement floor outside her cell was colder than inside. That was when she realized she didn’t have her shoes on & scurried back inside to tie them on. Then she paused a li’l longer & decided she’d probably want some other tools with her & noticed her blanket: she yanked it off her bed & tied it round her shoulder like a cape.

Having completed that quest, she leaned back out to see the hall just as vacant, just as dim, as she’d left it — just as it had been when she 1st lay down that night. She took a deep breath & stepped toward the door @ the other end, each step seeming like it would be the 1 to ignite the alarms.

& then when she finally reached the door & turned its knob she found it wouldn’t budge.

So much stress, only to end as a scooby-human story.

But then the obvious idea prodded her mind, & she shrugged, ¿why not?

& indeed, when she put the key in the door’s lock & turned it, she heard a click, & felt the knob loosen under her grip. ¿Why not?

But she hesitated. She knew this lead to the main office, where there’d be a guard or 2 nesting. They must have a’least 1 person watching the place 24/7.

She ducked & peered into the slit just under the door: there she saw the boots o’ a guard standing just on the other side o’ the door — but just standing. Then she untied her cape & slammed the door open, knocking the guard onto the floor. Before the guard could get up, she leapt onto his back & wrapped her cape round his whole face, muffling his shouts, as well as his vision. Next she pinned the guard’s hands down & emptied his pockets, sliding the bulky intercom device far ’way as soon as she set it on the floor.

Then she unbuttoned his shirt & began to yank it up, struggling as it stuck to his volcanic-shaking head. She tried to ignore the mushy feel o’ the guard’s bare skin, now slick with heavy sweat, on his knees. I already stuck a knife to someone’s neck.

She cuffed the guard’s wrists together & then unbuckled his belt & slipped off his pants with the comfort o’ someone cleaning a litter box. Finally, she dragged the guard ’hind the desk & then threw off her own prisoner’s uniform & threw on the guard garb, eyes flicking round like wasps for signs o’ anyone else. The loud — a’least in Autumn’s ears — sound o’ the guard pounding his body onto the hardwood floor didn’t help.

After buckling the belt o’ the uniform far too baggily big for her to be convincing, she pocketed the guard’s pocket leavings still left on the ground & then went to the lockers. She scanned the metal boxes near the end till she found “Springer, A.” & tried every key on the guard’s ring till she found 1 that clicked. Then she pocketed everything but her civilian clothes. She ruminated on that, but then realized that if someone caught her, they’d be able to identify her better by her natural appearance than by a plain denim skirt & a “PHAT LOOT” T-shirt. She bundled her clothes in a ball & held them under her arm, & then closed the locker & rushed for the front door, only to stop & let her breath catch up with her.

You can’t just wear the costume; you have to wear the role.

Howe’er, she did surmise that being so hasty wasn’t unbelievable for the kind o’ job — or, truly, any job in cutthroat capitalist society. So she settled for storming out & down the front steps with petulance painted on her face. She didn’t look round herself, but kept her focus on her cell phone — the universal sign for someone too busy for human interaction.

Nobody stopped her but the gate @ the far front, rattling in the black breeze. The same inkling hit her mind as before: she pulled out the Monster Key & turned it in the gate’s lock. ’Course it clicked. This time when the gate slid open with a shrill squeak, she didn’t so much as glance both ways; she marched straight out & ne’er came back.

9. Get Edgar to Bring to Wasabi Woods

Edgar sat up stiff as rigor mortis when he heard a click from the door. You’re just imagining things — just go to sleep already. But his body refused; it turned to the door & e’en went so far as to imagine the knob turning.

Then he saw the door open & saw a shadow stand in front o’ the incoming wind for just a second before yellow light flashed on. After a second’s adjustment, his eyes spied Autumn standing, panting, not in her regular raiment, nor the prisoner’s vestments he saw her wearing last afternoon, but a white police uniform.

¡Autumn!, he said in a gasp.

No time for talk. She tossed the bundle she held in her arm, which unfurled onto the floor, revealing its contents to have been Autumn’s typical T-shirt & skirt, & then she was striding for the chest in the corner, her chest o’ costumes.

¿Do you think you’ll need a costume?, Autumn asked just before yanking the shirt off o’er her head & tossing it onto the floor. As she began unbuckling the belt & pulling down the pants, she continued, Sure someone saw you visiting me; but that’s not proof in itself. She kicked the pants ’way & then paused, pursing her lips & eyeing the ceiling as she oft did in rumination, which Edgar had to admit looked mo’ abobada now in just her bra & boxers. Finally, she said, Better careful than contrite. She opened the chest & tossed o’er to Edgar a pair o’ loose jeans, a black T-shirt, & a white jacket with a heavy hood. Wear the hood up. She began to slip on her own costume, — a red shirt, black jeans, & a brown jacket — & replaced her regular glasses with shades.

We look ’nough like last-decade thug-wannabe douches that it wouldn’t be beyond belief that I’d be the kind o’ twat who wears sunglasses out @ night.

Edgar held his new clothes up & hesitated. After a quick peek round, as if any surprise stranger might’ve snuck in while they weren’t watching, he pulled off his robe, revealing his tendril nest o’ a torso, & began tossing on this new attire — an activity fraught with fumbling under the stare o’ Autumn’s eyes.

When he finished buckling the belt o’ his jeans, — which weren’t e’en close to fitting Edgar’s bough-thin legs — Autumn asked, ¿You ready?.

As e’er, Edgar said eagerly.

10. Tickle a Tree for Itchy Dust

11. Get a Music Player & Learn the “Song o’ Highway Breezes” to Warp to the Cinnamines

12. Gitjoo a Sterster Seekchoo to Talk to the Hamster

Luckily, Autumn found a Sterster dictionary up on Kootslist.

Less luckily, she found out the poster only offered it in return for Raccoon Pie.

¿Does nobody use money in this economy anymo’?, Autumn said with barely-held-back anger.

13. Get a Raccoon Pie to Trade for a Sterster Dictionary

14. Get a Cookbook so Edgar Can Bake a Raccoon Pie

15. Get the Ingredients to Bake a Raccoon Pie

16. Flee the Police to Get a Tanuki Leaf to Bake a Raccoon Pie

But as they headed down the streets, Autumn noticed an officer staring @ them.

Knew I should’ve gone all the way & dyed & changed my hair.

Without turning toward the cop, she began subtly increasing their pace & turned into the 1st alley they found, wherein she began running, dragging Edgar with her.

When she stopped them @ the fence @ the end, Edgar asked thru heavy breaths, ¿What’s wrong?.

Autumn held the dumpster before the fence. No time. Climb.

She helped Edgar up onto the dumpster, & then o’er the fence, & jumped o’er herself just as the officer was entering the alley.

¡Stop!.

17. Get a Tanuki Leaf to Bake a Racoon Pie to Get a Sterster Dictionary to Get the “Song o’ Highway Breezes” to Return to the Cinnamines

18. Get Pissed Off

No.

Autumn’s voice was so deep & so loud that it startled Edgar. She took a step forward, fists clenched & eyes gnarled.

The cat who had been sleeping in front o’ the cave was already gone.

The prospector, who was still scratching his OK itchy chin, climbed out o’ a hole in the dirt & said, Ah, yes, the cat woke from its slumber & ventured off to impregnate the neighbors. I’d have called you, but I was too busy hearing blackberrybird88’s profound notes ’bout ecological issues.

Whate’er. Don’t care. Autumn turned to Edgar. Lets hurry inside ’fore that dumbass cat comes back.

With that settled, we can thankfully finally commence with the story I was s’posed to tell, the story o’ Autumn & Edgar’s exploration o’ the Cinnamines.