Cabin Three // h.s. au

t w e n t y - n i n e

"I-I'm sorry, I was just being honest."

"Oh, god. I'm a murderer. I'm a homewrecker and a murderer. I am the lowest of lows."

"Not sure you used homewrecker correctly there."

***

"I have to leave in like two minutes."

"You said that ten minutes ago."

"F.uck, just give me another grape," he begged, opening his mouth. I laughed, tossing the fruit in the air and watching Harry catch it.

"This is strangely impressive," I stressed, tossing two in the air and watching him catch one, and the other land in his eye.

"Ouch, my eye!" He shouted.

"Harry!" A static voice called out. Both of our eyes widened as we looked directly at each other. "Harry!" It calls again, only this time it was a woman's voice.

"Is that God?" I asked.

"No, that was a woman."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It was a man's voice, so it's not God."

"What makes you think God has to be a man?"

"God isn't a woman. He's a He. He's always referred to as a He. Therefore, He's a man."

"How are you supposed to know that God isn't a woman? Maybe God has no gender and the authors or translators of The Bible had to go with a default pronoun. That's what they did with the Angels. Angels are genderless."

"Why wouldn't they go with their?"

"Their is plural. He is singular."

"Harry!" The voice shouted.

"What do you want? Do you want me to build something?"

"Jess, it's just my walkie talkie," Harry said, pulling out the black electronic.

"Seriously? Why do you have a --"

"Interesting fact about walkie talkies--"

"I didn't ask."

"-- Walkie Talkie in French is Walkie Talkie!" I stared at him.

"That was not interesting at all."

"It's fascinating."

"Restaurant in French is restaurant," I shrugged.

"That's because it's a French word, you doughnut."

"Harry, if you don't answer right now, I will shove the walkie talkie that I paid so much for up your--"

Harry quickly pressed the object to his lips brightly saying, "Rodger that, David. No need for the potty mouth, Davey Daves. Over."

David's voice called through the speaker, "Harry, if you call me that one more time--"

"Don't threaten my son, David," Anne's voice came through the speaker.

"Butt sex."

"Oliver, I told you to use the walkie talkies for only communicating important messages," David whined.

"Suck my a.ss, David," Oliver spoke.

"Is that any way to speak to your boss?" David asked.

"What did you need, David? Over." Harry asked through the black device.

"I need you to come help me with some stuff for the skit. Now," he ordered.

"Ugh, fine. Over."

"Harry, you don't have to say over," David said.