Being low on cash and far from the train station was fact in this realm, but Joanna skewed all that analytical Popper shit and made it, in scattered bursts, to the taxi rank outside the hospital before her legs gave way and the body followed.
‘Stop being sneaky,’ Sila said, lifting her up into a wheelchair and pushing her back inside.
Joanna didn’t answer beyond a guttural wah. If she did, she might elaborate too far. And then they’d ask her what happened in the castle again, and she’d already forgotten her original story.
What had torn her leg up
in that version?
She couldn’t remember.
Out of town bear?
‘You don’t have to say anything, it’s okay,’ said Sila, steering her back into the room with a Vicenza in the 60’s painting on the wall, and laying her on the bed. ‘I’ll do all the talking.’
Joanna muttered raw Cantonese and pulled the blanket over her head.
‘They said we can leave tomorrow. Officially leave, I mean. Your injuries aren’t that bad, mostly just shock, the doctor said, though you’re lucky they didn’t find anything in your blood.’
No movement from the blanket.
Sila picked up a pamphlet, said, ‘ah, this place,’ and pointed at it even though she couldn’t possibly see anything.
‘I figure we can go here next.’
The blanket creased as Joanna shifted onto her side.
‘Genoa. You know where it is? I think it used to be a famous port in medieval times, one of those city states. Can’t find any info on cabinets…yet.’
He placed the pamphlet on the bed, close to where he thought her hand might be.Continue reading