McIan
Journeyman
“Korbin?!! Korbin Durr… is it you?!” Scar exclaimed as he entered the kitchen at the Just Inn in Papua. “I could have sworn someone was using your omelet recipe, but it’s you! How… what happened?” he asked as they shared a celebratory embrace.
“It is a long story friend Scar, and I will tell you all about it sometime, but I must finish this. Then I will make you one if you like?”
“Of course I would, but first I must finish my morning rounds. Just give me the short version.”
Korbin tossed the flattened round mass of fried eggs in his iron skillet into the air. They flipped once and landed perfectly on the other side. “Well, you see, I told them I was nobody important and they believed me. I had some money and I gave it to them so they let me go. I think they did not like my desserts,” he said, grinning, though his free hand began shaking a bit.
Scar noticed. “Your family must be happy to have you back. I went by your house several times but there was no answer at the door.”
Korbin shook his head. “No, they would not be. When all this trouble started, I moved them far away. They are staying with some relatives until all this trouble blows over. I thought it wise.”
Scar observed the place on his arm, the tattoo that had been viciously flayed away by Suka’s knife and sent to him. “I see that has healed mostly. What else did she do to you?”
“Oh yes, we Papuans heal quickly,” he chuckled. “They had some sport of me, but nothing as bad as you would think. They put salve on it and it quickly healed over. Now, please, let me finish this friend Scar,” he said kindly.
Scar smiled and gave him a gentle pat on the back. “Well, I’m glad you’re home again old friend. I’ll be back within the hour for that omelet,” he said as he turned and left.
Something not quite right here. I saw his family in town after the trouble started.
A few moments passed. Korbin finished his cooking and placed the food on a plate to take to a nearby table where a nondescript, bearded, man, wearing tinted glasses, sat helping himself to the fruit bowl. Toby Gillens watched as Scar walked past him and breathed a sigh of relief. As Korbin approached to give him his breakfast, Toby looked up at him, smiling, and winked. “Very good friend, and very well spoken.”
“It is a long story friend Scar, and I will tell you all about it sometime, but I must finish this. Then I will make you one if you like?”
“Of course I would, but first I must finish my morning rounds. Just give me the short version.”
Korbin tossed the flattened round mass of fried eggs in his iron skillet into the air. They flipped once and landed perfectly on the other side. “Well, you see, I told them I was nobody important and they believed me. I had some money and I gave it to them so they let me go. I think they did not like my desserts,” he said, grinning, though his free hand began shaking a bit.
Scar noticed. “Your family must be happy to have you back. I went by your house several times but there was no answer at the door.”
Korbin shook his head. “No, they would not be. When all this trouble started, I moved them far away. They are staying with some relatives until all this trouble blows over. I thought it wise.”
Scar observed the place on his arm, the tattoo that had been viciously flayed away by Suka’s knife and sent to him. “I see that has healed mostly. What else did she do to you?”
“Oh yes, we Papuans heal quickly,” he chuckled. “They had some sport of me, but nothing as bad as you would think. They put salve on it and it quickly healed over. Now, please, let me finish this friend Scar,” he said kindly.
Scar smiled and gave him a gentle pat on the back. “Well, I’m glad you’re home again old friend. I’ll be back within the hour for that omelet,” he said as he turned and left.
Something not quite right here. I saw his family in town after the trouble started.
A few moments passed. Korbin finished his cooking and placed the food on a plate to take to a nearby table where a nondescript, bearded, man, wearing tinted glasses, sat helping himself to the fruit bowl. Toby Gillens watched as Scar walked past him and breathed a sigh of relief. As Korbin approached to give him his breakfast, Toby looked up at him, smiling, and winked. “Very good friend, and very well spoken.”