*
After finding a small hotel on the outskirts of Lindima's second city to lodge in, the two of us started work on the party. We spent the remainder of the day getting in touch with as many people as possible to see who'd be interested in attending and booked the venue. As twilight neared, we discussed our plan thoroughly over drinks and slices of soft sweetbread.
The two of us sat in the indoor common area downstairs, our faces drawn into matching scowls. Jacob lowered his tankard of banana beer and placed it on our table. Even with the added benefit of being almost alone in the small space, we kept our voices low.
"We need to have the party as soon as we can," Jacob said.
"I'd have thought you'd take your time in planning."
He bit his lip, running a hand over his hair. "How can I with something like this? There's no one way out."
"I suppose?"
A sharp sigh followed. "I'm not talking about the party. I mean this whole thing. It feels like, no matter what we try, I'm screwed."
"We'll be careful. And this will work." I reached out to take his clammy hand in mine, but he whipped it out of my fingers.
"We need- we need to find a way to get them alone. I need them alone. They can't pretend when no one else is there." Jacob took a shaky sip of his beer.
I tapped a finger against my chin. "Hint that." Pausing, he stared, urging me to continue. "Make an announcement during the party. Say we're going out for a spell. They'll be bound to follow."
"But there's one problem." He stared into his drink, eyebrows hooded over his narrowed eyes.
"What's that?"
"You can't come with me."
I lurched forward, bringing my cup of mango juice down hard. "That's-"
"Hear me out," Jacob pleaded. He leaned forward and pressed his forearm against the table. "There's no way they'll follow if you're with me. Besides, they may not come at all, and we'll need to make sure that the other guests are alright. Some of my closest friends and relations will be there, and I don't want them getting hurt because someone's after me."
I could've ripped my hair from my scalp, I was so angry. I chose instead to lean as close as the table between us would allow, grinding out my response slowly. "Take back your words. Take them back now."
"Gale, please."
"We're not doing this."
He released a tired sigh.
"I want you to keep an eye out on everyone. Don't tell me I have to get on the floor and beg."
"You can beg until your knees ache; it won't change my mind."
"You don't get it, do you?" Jacob started, low. "This is a gathering of my closest friends and family. And I'll be damned if something happens to any one of them. If you don't want to help, fine. I don't need your permission. I'll find another way."
I mulled over his words. The venue had already been hired in his name; my monetary contributions would go towards the food, the entertainment, and so forth. He could bar me out if he saw fit. "You won't."
"Try me," he challenged, his shoulders squared, a cold determination radiating from him.
"...I'll do it. But-"
"But?"
"Expose them. Get the camera people. That way, you'll never have to do something like this again." I said each word clearly, hoping to leave no room for argument.
He hesitated. "I don't know about that."
"They deserve it," I pressed.
"No. Not this time. The situation's too delicate right now," Jacob said, eyes wild.
Frustrated, I pushed my plate of bread back. "Do what you want."
Jacob sank further into his chair, dropping his head into his hands. "We need to think this through. If we do what you said, and end up with the wrong guy, that person's life will be ruined."
I couldn't find the words to respond and clenched my fingers together. "I understand your reasoning. But we can't let the right person go unpunished."
Lowering both his hands from his face, Jacob said, "They'll get their due when the time comes."
We began to write out formal invitations the next morning. We'd opted to do them ourselves to save what little money we could, knowing full well that the rest of it would be spent on convenience later on.
Jacob sat at a desk, while I lounged across my bed. Piled at the side of my leg were small pieces of sturdy, blue card. I took one, the gold print reading 'Invite' shimmering with my movement, despite the dull lighting. Turning the card over, I peeked at the crumpled list of guests in my other hand and grabbed a pen. As I worked, I saw Jacob's free hand stray to his belly every so often.
"Are you feeling well?"
As if on que, a small growl came from his stomach. "That bread from last night is not sitting well." He raised his hand to stifle a burp. "Remind me to take us out for dinner."
A little while later, I asked again, "How far are you?"
"Two-thirds of the way through. I've got about fifty people to go. You?"
"Just a few. Twenty more, or so."
"Alright."
I fiddled with my pen, choosing to forgo the casual conversation we'd been sharing for the past few hours. The atmosphere was peaceful enough, though something continued to weigh on my mind. Jacob met my troubled glances with brief ones of his own.
"Is your father getting an invite?"
For a moment, he said nothing, and I regretted asking.
"I know you're angry, and you have every right to be," I started again, assuming there was no point in staying quiet. I laid a hand down to the bed. "I haven't known you for long, but I feel that ignoring your father is something you'd rather not do. Am I wrong?"
Jacob's pen fell slack against his palm. He exhaled, clamping his fingers back around it, and snatched an empty card from his pile. "He can come if he wants, though I doubt he'll bother. Guess he'll have to know I've been planning a party in his name. And now I have to think up an excuse as to why, even though he's probably heard about it from one person or another by this time. Gods, I'm so stupid."
"I doubt that. No one knows where he is."
"So? I'm willing to bet on it."
"Jacob. I've been thinking about something."
"Hm. What's that?" He worked at his invitations, head bent down away from me.
"What we're doing is very risky. Too risky. And there's always the chance we've gotten something wrong."
"Where are you going with this?" Jacob peered at me from the corner of his eye and scowled.
"We're going to need all the luck we can get." He jumped then, knocking over the desktop lamp. It bounced against the carpet. "Are you alright?"
"Never better," he replied, bending down to retrieve the fallen lamp.
"We'll need to make use of the luck brew I gave to you."
Twisting his fingers, Jacob said eventually, "I don't have it."
*
Discussion: I'm guessing you readers had a feeling the brew would come up again sooner or later. How will Gale and Jack work around this dilemma, do you think?
Feel free to comment and vote if you enjoyed this chapter!