Eustace Delmont Chapter 5: In which drunken nights, hungover mornings, and various mistakes occur before our two lovers meet again [Tricubes + Mythic]

Chapter 5

<<Hitomi Meyers>>

It was only the next day when I asked Morgan if she wanted to come over and hang out. I was getting lonely. Eustace was off somewhere instead of coming into work like I thought (again, later, I found he had been in jail). She said yes and I played it off coolly despite the fact that I had picked up supplies the day before. I figured in the mean time, I could spend some time browsing the local library. Morgan had suggested I talk to someone called "Mrs. Zable" about local legends. 

The Maidenstead Public Library was tiny but in a cozy way. A rack of new releases wrapped in plastic dust jackets looked largely up to date and several shelves of fiction and non-fiction books looked well-loved and well-used. A smell somewhere between oak, dust, and cinnamon wafted around the place. It was a deeply pleasant location. Old folks read newspapers around tables and a few computers hooked up to printers had a large sign saying "1 Page = 1 Dime, see Front Desk for Assistance". 

Another sign read "Surf the World Wide Web! Classes on Tuesdays!" This gave me an idea. I had originally planned to get information so I could surprise Eustace with a stack of notes but with him not showing up I was feeling just a bit petty but also wanting to do my own thing. That Orange Beach National Dog Show poster that Isaac Gibbs had been salivating over, I figured I could see if I could find anything about that. [1]

Sitting down at a computer I followed the print out's note to bring up the web and went to AltaVista to do a search. The keyboard was one of the older types that clacked a bit loudly per key which felt a little out of place in the overall quiet of the room. I was the only person using a computer at the time and I felt myself blush just a little. I kept worrying that some librarian would come over and ask me for an ID or residence and it would be hard to hide my accent. 

This was before social media, before the notion that everyone needs a site or a page, but I was in still in luck. I found a site (orangebeachdogshow.com) that did have some low res (by today's standards) pictures of last year's winners and announcement of the largest ever prize package. I was not sure what I was looking for but a glance at the sponsors brought up my eyebrows just a hair. H & L Smith's, Patrick Yost's place of employment, was in there. Another was Roman Patel. I quick follow-up search made me about 80% sure this was Amy Patel's father. Perhaps a bigger shock was that in the list accommodations there was the main Marriot Conference Center that was going to be the primary place for attendees to stay but overflow/backup included the Rambler's Inn. "Great places to walk your dogs. Quiet and secure." Why would a place whose head of security hated dogs be trying to court dog owners to come stay? [2]

Tapping the pencil against my teeth (which, in hindsight, was pretty disgusting, who knows what sort of Maidenstead Poxes might be on that thing?) I made a few notes to myself. Roman Patel went at the top but I also wrote "Why Rambler!?" and jotted down some of the other sponsors and locations mentioned. I'd check with Morgan. She might know some of these people. All of this could be nothing but I was at least entertained. 

I tapped in a new URL in the address bar - investigationvan.com - and spent a good couple of minutes looking at Vernon's website showing off the first three box sets of Frank and Daphne's ghost hunter by subscription service masterplan ("Coming soon! Order now!"). A plan already a bit in disarray now that Frank was working with a questionable local TV producer towards publicity stunts. It struck me then that it was weird that I was spending so much time being petty towards Eustace but had not even consider that Daphne had not visited me. How could she? We had a single shared mobile phone for the whole group and I had not talked to her since I walked off over the fight about Libby the Lab. 

Here was my opening, though, I could ask her and Frank to help me to find out if the dog show contestants were actually staying here and where the dogs were being housed.

It was not until an hour later, sitting back at my temporary apartment, that I realized I had never talked to Mrs. Zable. 

Morgan "I don't drink" Carter lasted about an hour before joining me by sipping some beer. After she winced at that, I convinced her to try some dry cider and she took to it quite impressively. She also started snagging some cigs from my pack and I started wincing realizing she was going to have one mother of hangover in the morning. Hitomi Meyer, destroyer of innocence. [3]

Around the time I realized we are too drunk to play Uno I decided it was a perfect time to talk shop. In other words, strategize on how to handle the whole Patrick Yost situation. How to get through to a blowhard who might have had information useful for understanding what was going on at the Rambler. We had moved out into the balcony which just felt like invitation to smoke more and drink more. 

The planning session went as well as you could expect. Poorly. The next day still remains the worst hangover I have ever had in my life. [4] What was meant to be a way to get under his skin devolved into a planning session about how to flirt properly. 

"Boys like Patrick don't have time for girls like..." said Morgan, with a sad little gesture towards herself, which I tried to argue but she she shushed me, "Remember Patrick is a rich snob. Dress up a bit... well, not a rich snob. Acts like..." She chugged a beer. We had already run out of cider and booze begets booze. A few drinks in and terrible drinks sound like a good idea. 

I was also beginning to suspect that somehow this was about Morgan herself having some sort of hots for Patrick but also kind of hated him. 

"Look, Morg..."

"Morgan the Organ, that's what dumbasses like Patrick used to call me!" 

"Ok, but..." We were definitely losing the plot. 

"Boys like him, though, he needs women who are just helpless... make him think you are helpless without him, he'll definitely want to take you in then..."

"Wait, we were talking about getting him to share plans with us. I'm not tricking him into marrying me..."

"It's gonna be all the same with a boy like that. Flirt a little. You are gorgeous. And that voice! You are so...so..." She nearly fell out of her chair trying to pat me on the knee. A later phrase that showed up was "ride or die" and Morgan would probably have punched anyone who said any negative thing about me right then, and I was beginning to feel like it was mutual. This goofy short chubby girl was deeply precious. I was so glad for her to be here, even if she had some terrible ideas...

"Oh, Morgan, I am no good at flirting. Unless its with absolutely losers. Trust me." 

"Guys like Patrick, they don't need you to flirt, they just need to think that..." 

At this time, Libby the Lab who had been deeply understanding to the fools we were being let out a bark and started wagging her tail. I had been vaguely aware of hearing the front door to the shop open downstairs. I briefly thought it might be Eustace and was kind of excited for a minute that he might finally drop in. Then nothing. However, hearing Libby bark made me realize I had just heard the back door open, the one right below the balcony, and so it occurred to me that someone was probably right below us. 

I stood up in a hurry, and then nearly fell down again. "Eu?" I called out, and heard no response. By the time I mustered up the ability to stand and look over the balcony, no one was there. 

"Just us chickens," said Morgan, who proceeded to collapse into a giggle fit for several minutes. 

The next morning, I woke up big spoon to Morgan's little spoon. My head was killing me. At some point around midnight, Morgan went into the purge half of a drunken night and vomited all over herself, her clothing, and a bit over Libby. I think the dog was just happy to be included. I got it all cleaned up as best I could but Ralph's upstairs apartment had no way to do laundry so my second thought after wanting to die was how to handle getting her dressed. She was half a foot shorter than me and a good few pounds heavier so any of my clothing would likely look unfortunately comical. [5]

I left a note for Morgan that I would be back and she should say put. "Keep your sexy semi-naked butt indoors!" Took Libby for a walk. It was now Friday [6] so the streets of Maidenstead had some traffic. As I smoked and let Libby do her business, I took in the surroundings. A lot of old folks. A few younger folk. A school bus marked Baldwin County Schools went by. An IGA delivery van. Ralph slouched over his counter, cigar unlit and clenched in his teeth, but did look up as I passed in front of the window and gave a wave. It was nice just getting out into the sunlight. 

Getting back upstairs, I find Morgan looking sad and dejected. Hangovers are not an easy hobby to master. Neither is figuring out how to leave a downtown apartment when your clothing is currently puke stained and sitting in a shower. After several minutes of back and forth - "She's gonna kill me!" - I convinced Morgan to give me her mom's phone number (Morgan was still staying with her parents) and I put in a call. 

Half an hour later, a woman who was basically Morgan's clone +20 years showed up. The same short, chubbiness. The same sense of instant happiness. I liked her immediately. Tanya Carter took one look at her daughter and asked if the two of us had been safe the night before. 

"Just us chickens," I said, repeating Morgan's odd phrase. 

Mrs. Carter laughed a good couple of minutes and said she was glad it was such a good time. [7] Sniffing the clear aftermath of stale cigarette smoke and a lot of beer, cider, and wine coolers she mostly just chuffed, "Maybe half of that next time." Then hugged her daughter tightly and lovingly in a way that made me jealous, but only slightly so. My mom was loving but not like this. Before the jealousy could get any more intense, she turned around hugged me, too. 

"I like you," she said, "Now, you girls need breakfast?" 

She went out and picked up some biscuits from McDonalds and came back and made sure we were fed. Then gave some surprisingly spot on hangover cure advice. Moms are always a source of wonder. She took the stained clothing and reminded Morgan that she had family business on Sunday and not go too crazy before then. In the sack of clothing Mrs. Carter had brought, a nice Sunday outfit was in there. A clear sign that Morgan was free to spread some wings. 

After Mrs. Carter left, and Morgan was able to shower and get dressed, the world was starting to feel like it was more in focus. A blurry, headache-y focus, but a bit more pleasant. 

"Sunday clothes," I said.

"What about them?"

"Just occurred to me, I have clothes for a road trip, not for showing up on behalf of a mega-church asking for details. I need to get clothes. Want to meet my sister?" 

My plans to have a quiet chat with Daphne broke down as soon as Morgan and I showed up at the Rambler. I had just asked the front desk woman about Frank Deacon and Daphne Meyer's room when I heard Daphne shout my name from behind me. It was a confusing mixture of deeply emotional reactions, but I pieced together that things were not all good in the Investigation Van's future. [8]

The gist of it was as such: 

• Vern had gone out to "check the van" [aka, smoke pot]. 
• On the way back, spotted Mike Anderson (the shady TV producer and ex-Christian Rock Star) chatting with Gunther Strange. 
• Vern told Frank this, that this whole "investigate the truth behind the Rambler" was starting to feel a bity shady, like maybe this was some kind of set-up. 
• Frank got very mad and got into such a loud shouting match with Vern (which is hard to picture, Frank is loud but Vern is not) that other guests threatened to call the police. 
• Vern finally stormed off to spend the night in the Van [aka, smoke more pot]. 
• This morning Frank and Daphne went to apologize and the van is there, locked up tight, but Vern is not. Since Vern has the keys, this means the other two are stranded at the Rambler. 
• They were at first pissed at Vern but as time goes on, they are now worried that something happened to him.

I made an off the cuff remark about him being ok if he's not a dog and that had Daphne rant at me for a minute. I was cheesed enough at the whole group that it did not occur to me to maybe be worried about Vern. The van's providence was a bit tricky. Vern and his family sort of owned the van but Frank made payments. It felt like a perfect Vern and Frank pissing contest for Vern to have called a cab and gone back home (Mobile was maybe 20 minutes across the Bay). Had I realized that Eustace, at this very moment, was involved in discovering what he was discovering in the tunnels, that there was tunnels, I might have been more worried. 

As it is, I tried to calm down Daphne and failed and ended up somehow convincing her that she and Frank should stay here and take the investigation back to its roots. [9]

Morgan, who had sit quietly by my side the whole time, finally spoke up as we were walking outside. "Your sister was being completely unreasonable. She should listen to you more." 

I stopped and stared because it felt rare that someone was standing up for me. 

"Morgan Carter, you rockstar, you up for a trip to Gulf Shores?"

"Sure! To see Patrick Yost?"

"Yes, but also let's go get a fancy lunch and then get some bitchin' hot clothes." 

Morgan took my hand. "It's a date!"

Miracle Martha's Bespoke Boutique caught our eye as Morgan drove around the bit of Gulf Shores just slightly off the main strip. It stood out compared to the usual beach-tourist slop shop selling plastic sharks and oversized towels. "Martha" turned out to be more of the concept of a person - Betty Crocker style - as the current owner (Diana) and her daughter (Deena) chatted with us a bit. A lot of fancy to-order type clothing but they had a small and very up-market selection of ready made. I found an outfit that fitted me and handed over the very last of my cash (knowing I would either have to return to daddy or get a job). Deena smiled her blondest, most predatorial smile as she handed me my bag with "No refunds, thank you" written on the side. There went that plan. 

Leaving the shop, I came to an abrupt halt. Across from Miracle Martha's (aka, Dastardly Diana's) was a cafe in the outdoor sitting area there was Eustace Delmont along with two other women. I did not recognize either one. One was smaller, darker and seemed a bit giggly. The other was older, bigger and looked more serious like she was in middle of a deep fuss. Only the fussier older one had a Sailor Moon t-shirt, rainbow colored hair, and cat ears (and the young, gigglier one was dressed like she was on a business trip). [10]

While I stood there and stared for what would be universally considered a rude amount of time, the younger woman reached over and put her hand on Eustace's. That was it for me. I was done. 

"Right," I said, turning to Morgan. The exact chain of thoughts are a bit lost to time but I was about to ask her to run away with me to California and leave the entire state of Alabama and every Daphne and Eustace in the world behind. Only I noted her expression. She was puzzled but mostly she was concerned. And this made me look back. [11]

"Giggles" was not flirty giggling. She was doing that sort of nervous giggle folks do when they don't know what to say. "Rainbow Hair" was fussing (and also side-eyeing the hand holding with a look of betrayal probably matching or even exceeding my own). Eustace, though, my sweet, dear Eu... he was concerned and worried about something. I knew right then he was facing something big and had decided to keep going but was needing some sort of support. Barely glancing at traffic, I walked across the road and right over to the table he was sitting at. 

He looked up at me. "Oh, Hitomi, what are you...?"

Looking down at him (which is a little odd since normally stood about a foot over me), I repeated the very first words he ever said to me, "What can I do to help?'

== DOUG'S COMMENTARY==

Eustace and Hitomi's adventures continue to be a bit trickier to nail down that others so I just keep working on the posts as I get them. Even dialing back the prose content notably it just takes time to try and work everything out. As it is, there are a lot of open threads so I am going to have to go through each post and try and timeline everything. There are probably errors brewing in exact timing/dates and such and I want to nip those in the bud. 

I don't know when the next chapter will be posted. I'll just work on it a couple scenes at a time until it feels like it is at a stopping spot.

I did want at least a few scenes where the two lovesick idiots sort of intersect accidentally (Eustace overhearing Hitomi on the balcony, her spotting him out with Jenny) and I got those in but thanks to various interrupts and altered scenes I figured it was time to bring all that to a close. The series is a bit more fun to write when they are riffing off each other. I wanted to give Hitomi some time to grow and there will likely be "split" chapters coming up but after the next chapter (which will finally get to the tunnels that were originally going to be the ending of Chapter 3) there will be a couple of duo chapters again. 

I have been trying to expand the universe and there are now three "side" characters that can help in various ways. I'm enjoying that aspect. 

Hell, we might even get to meet Patrick Yost soon enough. 

== MECHANICAL AND STORY NOTES ==

1. Chaos Factor 6. Expected scene: Hitomi goes to the library to talk to Mrs. Zable. Scene Check: Altered Scene. She does go to the library but instead finds out about the (relatively early for this part of the world) internet connectivity and decides to sleuth her own case. 
2. Standard Alert. Hitomi got double 6s for an exceptional success. She finds a lot of information.
3. Chaos Factor 5. Expected scene: Hitomi and Morgan drink and strategize. As expected. Standard Alert to be a bit "watchdog-y" over Morgan who is unused to such partying. Hitomi fails. Morgan is going to get realllly drunk.
4. Standard Charm *but* I am going to play at a bit of Fate-like aspects and give Hitomi a temporary Quirk of "Drunk". She fails (specifically, she would have made it if not for the being drunk). 
5. Expected Scene (Chaos Factor 6): Hitomi and Morgan make their way down to Gulf Shores and try to figure out how to get the plans from Patrick. Altered Scene: they have to get clothing for Morgan. Does Hitomi have any fancy dress clothing? (50/50) --> No. So for both of them. 
6. Is it actually Friday!? Who knows? The first chapter was on Monday morning. It has been a couple of days (Tuesday and Wednesday) according to Hitomi's last one. Add another day and Friday sounds good [with Vernon going missing Thursday night, though that is not yet known]. 
7. Is Morgan's mom ok with her daughter's drinking? (50/50) --> Yes. She's actually glad Morgan got out and partied safely.
8. Expected Scene (Chaos Factor 5): Hitomi goes and gets clothes from her sister. Interrupt Scene. Expose Cooperation. Move away from thread: Frank's TV deal. 
9. Standard Charming. Hitomi got 0 successes (she's having it rough).
10. Expected Scene: Hitomi FINALLY gets to Gulf Shores and goes clothes shopping (Chaos Factor 7). Interrupt scene. Move towards thread: Tunnels. Separate Location. 
11. Hard Alert test. Ms. Hitomi "I whiff all my rolls" actually scores two 6s on this and gets an exceptional success.

== CREDITS == 

The Eustace Delmont Series is run using Tricube Tales, the "Maidenstead Mysteries" one-sheet setting, and Tricube Tales Solo (all by Richard Woolcock) with Mythic's second edition (by Tana Pigeon) as the game master emulator. See the Eustace Delmont page for links to these elements and for other posts in the series.

Addition gameplay elements for this series will be derived from Random Realities by Cesar Capacle; 
Book of Random Tables: 1980s -1990s, BORT: Modern, and BORT: Eldritch by Matt & Erin Davids; and Table Fables: Modern by Madeline Hale. 

Opening graphic is intended more as a mood piece than straightforward depiction and are a mixture of personal photographs, sketches, and stock art from Pixabay/Unsplash sometimes edited/tweaked through GIMP. Other graphics are created by me using GIMP, Canva, and Google Drawing/Sheets. 

The photo used is "The beach community of Gulf Shores, Alabama" by Carol M. Highsmith. I wanted a photo that wasn't just the beach for this and Highsmith's does a good job of hitting the vibe.