Lou kept his mornings open for typewriter work, when he had it. His afternoons typically brought him to the ADA office. It was a little cooler there than at the apartment, much cooler than in his step van, and he enjoyed both the regular and irregular commotion at Cascadia Market.
Since the Apollo occupation, there was more activity on the phone and with people coming to the office. There were calls from newspapers around the country, queries from people wanting to get involved, legal updates from the Portland office, messages and questions from anti-nuke groups across the country. More folks joined ADA, and more volunteered to help take calls, write press releases, and generally sort all the bits of information passing in and out.
Lou was glad for the extra help. He always appreciated the philosophy of “be kind, and do what needs to be done.” He also liked doing work because he wanted to, not because he had to. In return (not that anyone offered), Lou would take a break whenever he felt like it.
On the afternoon after returning home, Lou slipped away to get an iced tea at Rise & Shine. Two steps into the common area and he was greeted by a wiry man in top hat and tuxedo, a business card in his outstretched hand. At his feet sat a homely mutt wearing a crimson cape.
“Good day to you, sir! My card!”
Lou obliged, accepting the energetic stranger’s card.
“My name, should you prefer the full auditory experience over the literary offering, is Magical Milo. At my feet is my admirable assistant, capable companion, and all-around good boy, Arf the WonderDog!”
Lou read the literary offering. The front proclaimed Magical Milo - Tricks and Shenanigans. The reverse said Arf, WonderDog – Knows Everything, Says Nothing. Lou looked down at Arf, a dog with too much body, too little leg, and one-and-a-half ears. “Hi, buddy.”
Arf said nothing.
Magical Milo hyped on. “I am midway through an intrepid adventure which, to your great benefit and amusement, happens to be pausing this very evening in this splendid sector of the universe. Tonight, and tonight only, my assistant Arf and I shall be performing live (unless they catch me) at the enchanting Olde Dexter Theatre prior to departing (unless they catch me) for additional venues in your lovely state.”
“Cool.”
“May indulge your attention, kind sir, for one brief moment? If you would, please focus your mind’s eye on the Olde Dexter Theatre. Picture the bright lights, the bold façade, the throng of excited citizenry. Now imagine the grand boulevard leading through the streets of Dexter to the entrance of the Theatre. Do you have it, sir? Can you see it?”
Lou had heard of Dexter, a quiet community outside of Eugene. “Sort of,” he said.
“Then tell me, kind sir, where is Dexter and how do I get there?”
“I take it the dog isn’t saying.”
“He never does,” said Magical Milo.
“Hm. I think Switchboard could probably help you.” Lou pointed the way.
“Ah. Another miracle for the books. I thank you! Feel free to keep the card and spread the word.” The magician bowed and led Arf, the WonderDog, down the hallway, leaving nothing but magic in their wake.
***
The hot August evenings were suited to chilling out at home. Lou would relax upstairs, reading, chatting, playing a losing round of scrabble to Nobody. Tomoko never played scrabble, as she disagreed with the spelling of too many words.
Many nights, Lou would end his evening with a phone call to Jax, as he did the night after his return.
“Hi, Louie.”
“Hey. So, I was thinking when we talked before, I didn’t ask how you were doing. I just went on and on about the occupation.”
“That’s okay. I wanted to hear about it.”
“Well, how are you doing? What have you been up to?” Lou waited while Jax took the silence she needed to decide what to say.
“I’m doing all right. Not really doing a lot.”
“No?”
“I’ve just been kind of tired lately. Feeling lazy.”
“Oh yeah? You think maybe it’s this heat wave? That could do it.”
“Maybe. I guess so.”
“How’s it going with your workshop? I’d really like to see what you’re working on.”
“Oh. Let’s talk about it later, Louie. I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”
“Okay. Sure. I guess it is kind of late. Let’s talk soon.”
“I’ll call you, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight, Louie.”
“Goodnight.”
Lou put the phone down. He had hoped for more of a conversation, but came away with nothing. Was there something he should have picked up? Something between the lines? Nah, he’s just overthinking again. It was late, after all, and it was hot.
He looked to his roommates, who had been listening in from the dining table the whole time. “Sorry, guys. Not much of a show.”
“It was good,” said Tomoko. “I like a mystery.”
Nobody turned to her. “You are a mystery.”
“Thank you.”