The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

Something Ventured

After getting turned around and having to back-track once, Able found his way back to the Bays' home. No small child blocked his path up to the front door. He knocked and prayed the elder rather than younger Mrs. Bay would answer and either providence or the fifty percent chance favored him this day.

"Hello?" She frowned warily. "Can I help you?"

"I don't suppose you remember me, but I was here with Lark the other day." She was squinting at his face, so he added, "Things were a little heated, so we weren't introduced, I'm afraid."

"Oh. Yes, I remember, now. I'm sorry about that."

"It's quite all right. Able Houser, since we can rectify that now." He offered his hand.

"Mercy Bay." She took it quickly then backed out of the doorway to let him through. "Would you like to come in?" She was pulling him by his hand already anyway.

"Uh, sure, yes." He entered the house and got his hand back while she closed the door. "I, uh, since this morning, I was wondering if you had news of Venture and his father."

She nodded as she scanned back and forth through the front window. "Yes, I imagined so. He's here."

"Venture is?" Able's eyebrows rose. "Lark will be so relieved."

She turned to face him. "Where is he?"

"He went back to Fairbanks, pretty much right after he saw you two days ago. I'm still here because I've been following the progress of the conflict, and I've also been researching in the archives up at the municipal. I'm writing a chronicle on the aftermath of the war, you see."

"Oh..." She spent a moment trying to figure what to make of that. "That's...that's different. But you are a friend of Lark's, yes?"

"Yes."

"Would you be wanting to talk to Venture then?"

"Please."

Mercy Bay led him through the mudroom and kitchen, then around to the great room with the fireplace. Ash was seated in a chair beside it but found her feet the moment she saw Able. On the couch sprawled a man with the sort of skin that had initially kept Able ignorant of the fact that his own was "dark," but now he could see the redness of a Northlander's tan compared to his own "beechnut" brown. Venture Bay was tall with shaggy, mud-brown hair and close-cropped beard, and he held a wet cloth to the side of his face with one hand and his infant child in the other. His daughter Gift was sitting in his lap.

"Ma, what's this Bander doing here?!" Ash halfway shouted.

Mercy held up her hands for calm. "He's Lark's B—Larbant, the one he brought with him the other day."

"As if that fag isn't Larbant enough himself!"

"Hey!" Venture barked at her but immediately snapped his attention back between his mother and Able. "Lark was here?"

"We came here three days ago," Able snatched the chance to speak with Venture over his agitated wife. "He was pretty upset that you weren't here."

"Oh, I bet!" Venture chuckled. "Not allowed to get into trouble without him. Still, he should be glad he sat this one out."

"What was it like?" Able asked.

"Crowded, cold, and muddy?" Venture chuckled again but with a head shake. "Also our supplies got soaked in the rain, so all we had to eat was soggy bread and such. Not really Lark's kind of party."

Able was about to agree, but then this might be a test, or at least a chance to prove himself trustworthy. "Oh, I don't know...I think he'd try anything once." While Venture was laughing, he added, "Your father got out of there too, right?"