Ok, folks, back to our regularly scheduled frivolity. We rejoin Amanda as she tries to figure out what to do with her diminutive new friend.
Will Charlotte let her keep him? Is their stay at the dig site over? Does Dr. Fischer have a use besides (imaginary) eye candy? Read on to find out!
(Also, Blogger seems to hate me again, so if things look screwy, blame Blogger.)
How was she going to explain this to Charlotte?
Cold, calculating Charlotte. She wouldn’t understand feeling sympathy for a poor, pathetic little goblin. She wouldn’t look into those limpid eyes and melt; she’d probably shoot the thing where it stood.
Still, Amanda had to try. She couldn’t let the little fellow be thrown in with the rest of the malcontent goblins. Surely Charlotte would be able to see he was different; how many other unbound goblins would be sitting on her knee nibbling at a granola bar? Actually, Amanda thought, no bound goblin would do this either.
“Would you like to come with me?” The goblin nodded vigorously.
“Absolutely not.” Charlotte was standing triumphantly over a pile of unconscious goblins while Max Fischer gazed at her, obviously smitten with her show of prowess.
“But why not?” Amanda clutched the tiny goblin tightly. “Why can François have a huge zombie alligator but I can’t have one small goblin?”
“Marguerite is controlled. You have no idea what that thing will do once it’s had a taste of freedom.” The tone of Charlotte’s voice was flat, she wasn’t treating this as a debate. Her word was law.
“He’s not like the others.” Amanda tried to match her tone, but didn’t think she was doing it effectively. “While they were out causing trouble he was hiding. He almost cried when I pointed the gun at him. Charlotte…”
The rest of Amanda’s plea was cut short as François rounded the corner, a net full of grumbling goblins in tow. He looked right rough; his crisp linen shirt was scuffed and torn in places and his usually impeccable hair hung in strands by the side of his head. The grin on his face, however, belied the fun he was having despite his disheveled appearance.
“My God, they are making a racket.” Max kneeled beside the writhing net and studied the ugly creatures. “Do you know what they are saying?”
“No one can decipher their gibberish, although they seem to understand our languages pretty well.” Charlotte explained as she jotted some notes in her journal.
“They angry.” The voice was so faint that at first no one was sure they’d actually heard it. Amanda glanced down at the goblin in her arms. He looked up at her sheepishly and climbed onto her shoulder. He spoke a little louder. “They say they here first, it they land. They not let you take lady away.”
François looked disgusted at the little goblin’s crude speech while Max and Charlotte simply stared at him is disbelief. Amanda, however, laughed.
“Oh, we’ve got to keep him now.”