The patsies made do with what was available, but the real men wanted something better. How were they supposed to do business eating nothing but fucking greens and a few measly ounces of meat each day?
The freaking Others ate rats and mice and all kinds of shit not fit for humans, and their butcher shop always had plenty of pork and beef. The good dogs even went out and brought back a fucking turkey for that bitch Eve just because she wanted one. If the meat in the butcher shop disappeared one night, they could just hunt up some more. At least then they would be good for something.
He couldn’t take the meat himself. He’d overheard one of the freaks telling the brats that everyone had a different smell, and the Others could tell where each human had been in the Courtyard. So he couldn’t be obviously connected to the disappearance of the meat.
But he’d met some men who could do the job and would be smart enough to give him his share of the haul.
His commission. Yeah. Businessmen received a commission for their part of a job.
Smiling, Jimmy ate the last sandwich and put the remaining turkey and mayonnaise in the refrigerator. Enough left for one person. Sandee would gobble up the turkey for breakfast before the brats could shovel it into their greedy faces. They could eat that broccoli shit or go hungry.
He needed to shake himself free of Sandee and the brats and get out of Lakeside. Nothing for him here. Unlike Toland, it was too small a city for him and his preferred kind of business to escape notice. He had to figure that CJ or, more likely, that bastard Burke had already told the police in other precincts who he was. With things the way they were right now, he didn’t think anyone could be persuaded to look the other way—especially if a theft involved food or some other essential goods.
So he needed a big score, something that would give him the means to get out of Lakeside and set up elsewhere. Had to think about where that would be.
He’d find his ticket out of here. Yes, he would. But he would have to wait until Moonsday. Then he’d approach a few men and make a business deal.
CHAPTER 17
Moonsday, Messis 20
Having finished his lunch at Meat-n-Greens, Simon put the plate, silverware, and glass in their respective bins. No food except an apple core to dump into the food-recycling container.
His hand paused over the container. How many apples were left in their little apple house? How many would they need to set aside for the treats Meg gave the ponies? Henry would know. He knew apples ripened at different times, but he hadn’t paid much attention. Ripe apples were picked and eaten. But according to the female pack, some kinds of apples were better for eating while others were better for cooking and baking.
Who knew human females could be so fussy? A Wolf would munch on a ripe apple and be happy. Of course, making distinctions between apples was just one of many things that were different this year.
A Little Bite and Meat-n-Greens had gone through some changes over the past few weeks, especially now, when most of the humans who were allowed access to the Market Square ate at least one meal per day at one place or the other. That made sense for the humans employed in the stores or working at the consulate. And to be fair, the humans who had a share of the Green Complex’s garden made food that they passed around as a side dish, and they always gave some of the prepared food to Meg and showed her how to make the dishes she really liked.
All in all, considering the number of humans who were allowed to eat or purchase foods that came from the Courtyard’s land or from the terra indigene farms that supplied the things that weren’t grown, gathered, or caught right here, no one felt a real lack. Sure, some foods weren’t always available, depending on the success of a hunt or when the supply of flour reached Lakeside, but there was always something to eat.
That was part of the change at Meat-n-Greens and A Little Bite. Nadine’s Bakery & Café made foods for breakfast and lunch, and Tess would sell those foods in the coffee shop until she ran out. Then it was just coffee and other drinks. Meat-n-Greens had changed to providing food for lunch and throughout the afternoon, but patrons were expected to pick up their order when it was ready and clean up after themselves. In the evening, the place still acted more like a human restaurant with servers. In that way, terra indigene guests had a chance to experience several ways of eating in a human establishment.
All good things, when thinking of the Lakeside Courtyard as a place for advanced training in human interactions. But every day, humans still did things that were just peculiar. Like today. Having heard that there were no more turkey leftovers, he went into the kitchen area and offered to dump the turkey carcass where critters would find it so that it wouldn’t go to waste. Eve and Nadine had told him they were making turkey soup and he should keep his paws off the carcass until they were done with it.
He should have reminded them that he was their employer and they shouldn’t speak to him that way, but he’d been hungry and outnumbered and there had been too many sharp knives and pointy utensils within their reach.
He would talk to them later—or send a memo.
Making his way to the door, Simon noticed Lieutenant Montgomery, who had also stopped in for lunch. Something must have caught the human’s attention, because he took a step back from the door in order to remain unseen. Simon hurried to join him.
“You do not want to go out there right now,” Montgomery said. He held out an arm to block the door.
“Why? What’s going on?” Simon scanned the open area of the Market Square but saw nothing alarming. In fact, when Simon considered voice rather than actions, Montgomery seemed amused.
“Negotiations.” Montgomery pointed a finger at Miss Twyla, who was sitting on a bench eating an ice cream cone, and Skippy, who was chasing a bowl of ice cream until he finally pushed the bowl against one of Miss Twyla’s feet. Since her legs were crossed at the knee, the other foot dangled.
“Roo-roo.” Skippy planted a paw on Miss Twyla’s dangling foot and tried to pull it down so he could wedge the bowl between her feet instead of chasing it.
“No,” Miss Twyla said mildly.
“Roo-roo!” Skippy batted at her foot, more insistent.
“You can ‘Grandma’ me all you want. Doesn’t change the fact that you can hold that bowl by yourself. Miss Meg showed you how.”
“Roo?” Skippy looked around.
“She’s not here.” Miss Twyla licked her ice cream. “You just sit yourself down and put your own paws around the bowl.”
“Oh,” Montgomery breathed. “He’s going to try the ‘I’m too helpless to do this’ routine.”
Skippy did look pathetic, pushing at the bowl with one paw while the ice cream rapidly melted.
“We could go out and help him,” Simon said.
“You could do that. Of course, you’ll have to get around Mama now that she’s decided Skippy can do it himself.”
“But when we all had dinner the other night, she cut up his food, helped him eat.”
“The other night he needed help. This he can do by himself.” Montgomery studied him, openly curious. “Do you continue to feed your young once they’re old enough to do for themselves?”
“Of course not. They have to learn to hunt, as well as learn to protect their share of the food.” Simon considered what Montgomery was asking. “Doesn’t mean juveniles won’t act like puppies sometimes and try to coax an adult into giving them an easy meal.”