Free Time by any Other Name.

 Here is a little story I wrote about my boredom on the weekend. i just can't let these characters go. I will have a comic up this week.

Free Time by Any Other Name

All times approximate,

Saturday, 10:00 AM

Tick-Tock Tick-Tock Tick-Tock

Sylvia laid her head on the table barley propped up, staring at her phone in her outstretched arm. She closed her eyes briefly before deciding that falling asleep like that would be a decision she would regret. Thankfully, David temporarily broke the boredom, as far as Sylvia could tell in the only way he knew how. He walked through the door.

“Breakfast is served,” David said, placing two cups and a white paper bag on the table. Sylvia picked up the disposable paper cup with the biodegradable lid, and took a whiff.

“Mmm, the wonderful aroma of coffee,” She thought. Sylvia was in pure bliss until she remembered the taste of coffee. “Blech” she thought in her mind. Switching cups she sniffed that one as well. “Ahh, tea, my true friend.” She quickly removed the teabag, and took a sip. “Just in time,” she thought. She had managed to catch it before it was oversteeped.

While Sylvia was lost in the beverages, David removed two bagels and packages of cream cheese from the bag. Sylvia carefully spread the cream cheese onto each of her bagel slices with the provided biodegradable knife. David dumped his in a lump on top of one slice before compressing the two halves into a cream cheese sandwich, and took a bite.

“What is that ticking?” David asked. Sylvia shot David a look usually reserved for mothers to scold children when they speak with their mouths full. David well understood that Sylvia had a unique right to demand manners, and a duty to correct them. He bowed his head in a sheepish apology.

“The noise is my phone. I have figured that, since most people in your country use them as clocks, I should as well. This is an application that I found,” Sylvia said while presenting her phone to David. Tapping the screen, she revealed an image of an old grandfather clock, complete with swinging pendulum.

“So, how long until you remove it?” David asked.

“That was the exact question I wished to answer when I retrieved the application. I have had it going for five minutes and fifty-three seconds. I am trying to determine if I can go a full ten minutes before I end it. However, my patience is wearing thin,” Sylvia explained

“And this is how you want to spend one of the rare days we both have off? Come on. It’s even Saturday,” David replied.

“I am not certain what to do with such days. Also, I have found that Saturday is the least enjoyable day to have free. Sunday affords no pressure. Weekdays give the feeling of being a rebel, being out in the world when one should be working. Saturday’s are the days when one is expected to put forth much effort into enjoyment, and report to co-workers on how much is accomplished. To be frank, Saturdays can be demoralizing and exhausting.” Sylvia said this before taking a sip of her tea.

“Well then princess, let’s just get out of here and wee what we can see. No pressure.” David picked up his cup, bagel, and car keys. Noticing that this action got cream cheese on his key, he not-so-discreetly licked it clean.

“Why do I kiss you?” Sylvia asked with a slightly overly dramatic expression, that to be honest David had coming.

In the car, they headed north along the shore, out of the city and through the green Midwestern landscape. Talk was scarce, and the ticking had long since ceased. Sylvia fiddled with her naturally occurring, unnatural looking, pinkish-red hair, staring out the window. They stop briefly at a roadside stand and purchase some fresh cherries. They had further north without much conversation.

11:45 AM

The road takes them through a small town with more billboards than can really be justified by its population. Sylvia broke the silence, “If you think we can spare the money, we may try the jet-ski rental advertised back there. Have you ever been on one?”

“I was on one in New York Harbor once. I was fighting a hydra in a shipping lane. I just don’t think it would be the same thrill. We can still try it if you want,” David said in all seriousness.

Sylvia puffed her cheeks a bit, “No, I will be quite fine without it. It is approaching the noon hour. Perhaps we should take our lunch.”

Finding a table in a small park, David sat on top of it. Sylvia demanded, “Behave like a gentleman and sit on the seat across from your wife as is proper.”

“Let’s see if this is the best corned beef in town.” David said tearing into his sandwich. He approved of the grease and salt, and although he was a bit apprehensive, the coleslaw included between the toasted buns made for a wonderful combination. He had a sandwich like this once before, when visiting his friend, Curt, at Graduate school.

“I am inclined to believe their claim, if for no other reason than they may be the only source of corned-beef in this town,” Sylvia speculated. 

“It is impossible to declare something the best, no matter how good it is without exhausting all options. That is why I almost never use absolute terms.” David decided to retire that old conversation before he began boring Sylvia again.

They ate, mostly in silence looking around and observing. David stared intently at the library across the street.  “Don’t you think that it is strange that a public library in such a small town would have a fleet of trucks like that?” To David is seemed odd that a public library would need no less than four large freight trucks.  “I wonder if some official is misappropriating government recourses to run a moving company. They would be pretty good at moving books.”

Sylvia stared as well. “Perhaps, there is something nefarious afoot,” She brightened a bit, “or, even, something magical.”

“Let’s find out.” David said, before spitting a cherry pit on the ground. Sylvia mental gave up on his manners for the remainder of the day.

They parted ways, disposing of their collective trash in a single bin, not even considering sorting it into the provided, recycling, trash, and compostable bins placed all over the park.

12:30 PM

David knelt in the bushes with a box between his knees, waiting for Sylvia. She appeared silently, almost startling David when she spoke, “What have you there? Have you taken to stealing from public intuitions?”

“I doubt the library will report this stolen. There were loading these into one of the trucks. If I told you what I had to go through to get this, you wouldn’t even believe me.” Opening the box David pulled out several boxes, each with an identical label. “They appear to be shipping large numbers of bootlegged Kurt Russell movies on VHS, but “why?” I cannot say.”

“Perhaps they have a magical quality to them.” Sylvia said hopefully.

“Oh, Kurt Russell movies are definitely magical. That is for certain, but there is definitely something nefarious going on as well. David produced a plastic wrapped brick of green leaves, holding it with some kind of napkin he must have found on the ground. 

“I know almost all magical plants in existence, and that is not one of them,” Sylvia said, holding her finger just out of reach of the package.

“Try to convince the stoners who come into the clinic of that. They go on and on about how it is the ultimate cure for all ailments, and I have yet to read one reputable report on its medical benefits.” David shook his head. “Well, it is still illegal in this state. What do you have?”

Sylvia took out her phone and began flipping through pictures. “These men appear to be supervising the loading of the packages. From my investigation they are both elected local officials. These men are loading the packages. The ones whom I could identify are known members of local street gangs, two of which have outstanding warrants.”

“How did you find this that fast?” David asked.

Sylvia held up the phone whose unlimited data-plan pretty much paid all of their expenses. “Investigation is my profession, my dear Dr. Watson.” Sylvia replied. “Solutions to difficult problems are yours. What do you recommend?”

“I suppose I could go in there, superhero-style, beat everyone senseless and let the cops sort it out, but I feel like the leaders would be have a bit too much plausible deniability, and they could just walk. Besides, then they would begin a manhunt for a mad vigilantly in a suit of armor. Remember what how that turned out last time.” David occasionally has nightmares about the FBI finding him. “How, about I tape my phone to the truck, with it programmed to check in locations? Once it stops we call the police and catch them in the middle of a handoff.”

Sylvia nixed the idea. “No, they will not be doing a handoff until nightfall, and if they start driving now, there is no way of telling how far they are going, or if we would be able to muster police forces in time. I think we should stop them right here.”

“But how do we catch corruption?” David asked

They watched as the final packages were loaded, and in somewhat surprise as the loaders themselves were locked in the truck. “They must be heading to quite a dangerous exchange if they are bringing such an escort. We really should prevent this.” One of the men supervising the loading climbed into the driver’s seat. David drew a slight smirk.

“Alright, I have a plan. Get your camera ready.” David said. When quickly removed and donned piece after piece of plate armor from a bag he had taken out of the car, a bag that upon first investigation, did not appear to be large enough to hold a full suite of armor.

1:00 PM

The driver of the truck only saw the knight appear briefly as he passed him going about thirty miles an hour. He didn’t see the magical sword, and he didn’t realize that his rear wheel was cleaved in two. He awoke with several police officers standing attempting to pull him out of the sideways vehicle. He noticed the senior officer on the scene investigating a box laying in the road, a box that should be sealed carefully in the hold. The officer picked it up and its contents spilled everywhere. The officer said one word, and the driver knew that this days as head of the library system were over. The word was, “reefer.”

6:30 PM

David was amazed at how efficiently Sylvia worked, especially for someone who was self reported to loath technology. After five and hours of interviews, background investigations, real-time updates to her boss, and hanging on the backs of the police, she was finished. David was slightly jealous, but also struck with admiration. All he could do was provide first aid to those injured on the scene, but he did take a slight bit of joy knowing being the one who inflicted to the wounds.

The waiting was broken up by a single phone call which brought the name “CU Smith” on David’s caller ID. David followed Sylvia into the police station. “How much longer are you going to be at this? I just got a call from Curt inviting us to a bonfire tonight.”

“That sounds lovely. I am just finishing up. I needed the final weight and estimated street value of the contraband.” Sylvia replied. Filling in a few blanks on her notepad, she photographed all of her pages forwarding them along to her editor. “There, the copyboy should have these typed and set for publication before the press conference even commences.”

“I still can’t believe that Karl lets you hand-write all of your stories. What kind of reporter can get away without typing?” David harassed her a bit.

“If a reporter can single handedly keep a news agency afloat, then that hand can use whatever tool she deems best.”

David knew Sylvia was right. She was probable best reporter in the world when it came to digging up new stories, and she has yet to get a face wrong, or even misspell a word. She was fast becoming a legend, despite only being in the business for a little over a year, but it is understandable when an unknown girl, not only scoops other reporters, but appears to almost create news stories out of thin air. She was truly something out of the comic books.

8:00 PM

David and Sylvia arrive in the middle of a field. The only odd thing about the field was that it was the only field within miles to not be covered with corn or soy. It was simply covered with grass, which in David’s opinion made it the most boring field in the county. Curt Smith, ran across the field and tackle-hugged him. David could have easily deflected the charge, but he decided to just look a little annoyed instead.

“Hey, Curt, what brings you over to this side of the lake?” David asked.

“Oh, you know, I just thought I would take a weekend trip home. This farm belongs to some college friends. I haven’t seen in a while. Guess who else is here?”

Natalie Smith, Curt’s younger sister appeared from behind him. A light wave was all David received from her, even thought she had known him her whole life, before she rushed to Sylvia.

Curt turned to David, “Uh-oh. Those two are getting close. No good can come of this.”

10:00 PM

Sylvia’s marshmallow caught on fire, again. She just stared at it, admiring the glowing blue casing around the sizzling surface before blowing out the flame. “This is proving more difficult than advertised.” Sylvia muttered.

“I don’t know why people go to the trouble of roasting marshmallows. It’s just not worth the effort.” Natalie said shoveling two more into her mouth.

“It is because eating them raw is barbaric,” Curt said placing his perfectly golden brown marshmallow between two gram crackers.

Swallowing her marshmallows Natalie asked Sylvia, “Did David ever tell you about the chubby bunny championships we used to play when we were kids? Curt always won because he had the biggest mouth. He still does to this day.”

David said nothing. Although, he did contemplate building a self-adjusting rotisserie marshmallow roaster. David’s train of thought was interrupted when Sylvia flopped backwards looking up at the stars. David followed suit. They stared at the sky without saying anything for quite some time.

David finally asked, “Well, Mrs. Watson, did you have a good day off.”

“I did,” she said.

“Is there anything you would like to have changed?”

Sylvia turned her head to him. She returned her gaze to the sky saying nothing, content.

“Me Neither, I liked it just the way it was,” he replied to the unasked question, looking up at the sky as well.