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Author Topic: Nellie Says Hi
MattLeo
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Howdy, y'all.

My name's Nellie Pye; my pal Hector says there was a crusadin' lady journalist who went by that handle, but that was news to me. When I was a squirt sometimes a boy would tease me about my name, but none of 'em ever did it twice.

I'll tell you my best friend's name, but I'm puttin' y'all on notice: anyone who laughs is goin' to regret it. Right then. My best friend's name is Summer Day. Got any clever remarks itchin' to be made? Cause if you do and you ain't too attached to how your mug's arranged, we'll just step outside and I'll fix it for you. Any takers? Good. I see we're all goin' t' get along like a house on fire.

Summer 'n me's been pals since I got kicked off the baseball team for not havin' the right equipment, if you know what I mean. Now most folks reckon I'm Summer's bad tempered Amazonian sidekick. Hector says I'm her paladin or something like that, but he always has some nice way of puttin' things. I ain't nobody's sidekick or nothin', I just keep an eye peeled for the girl, 'cause she's a menace to herself. It's bad enough God made her built the way she's built, but then she goes and dolls herself up like she does. So I kinda ride shotgun and make sure nobody messes with her in any way she don't want to be messed with. Course with Hector around I reckon she's safe enough, but I s'pose it got to be a kinda habit with me.

Summer's been itchin' to doll me up too, practically from day one, but she ain't off her nut enough to press the issue. There'd be no point to it, cause the most she could do is rig me up so folks might notice me standin' next to her, which'd be kinda humliatin'. It ain't that I'm repulsive or anything like that. I reckon I'd turn a few heads if Summer weren't around, but things suit me like this. This way I can hang around with the guys and I don't get pestered by no one but Schmidt, who'd do anything in a skirt, which I don't wear by the way. I stick to dungarees like back home. I ain't interested in becoming a flapper or nothin' like that. Anyhow, Hector says I oughtta feel sorry for Schmidt, not enough to let him ask me out though.

Summer's boyfriend is this kid named Maximilian, who's Bohemian. I don't mean an artist type Bohemian, although his father's a famous violinist and the family runs with that crowd. I mean he's a bona-fide Bohemian with a passport to prove it. Now I reckon Maximilian's about the prettiest boy I ever laid eyes on, and he's got pretty manners to go with it, but he don't come across as a sissy or nothin' like that. He's slick as the inside of a can of bacon grease. Maximilian's tricky and low-down, but charmin' about it. He even scooped me into goin' on a date with him, which kinda upset me, but later on Hector showed me how he pulled the wool over my eyes, so I got that oversexed polecat's number. I don't know why he did it, since he's got Summer and she's about as fine as cream gravy, but maybe she don't let him mess with her. If he thinks *I'm* goin' to let him mess with me he's go another think comin'.

Anyhow, I reckon Maximilian's OK, 'cause Hector likes 'im. In fact, I reckon Maximilian's the first friend Hector ever made, so Hector must see somethin' in the sneaky little four-flusher we don't.

Some of you might've noticed that I sometimes talk a bit like a hick. Well, I just talk the way I was brought up; my Ma and me still talk this way at home, so I don't think it's nothin' special. My friends sometimes don't understand what I'm saying, although I reckon some of the time they're pullin' my leg 'cause Hector always understands me. He says I speak "an anomalous cryptolect of the American South Midland dialect," which I think is sweet, but it gives y'all a taste of what a conversation with that boy can be like.

Now I mentioned my Ma, so you're prob'ly wonderin' about my Pa. He passed away back in '32, and the followin' year Ma got a job in radio that brought us east to the city. He was an exhibition shooter and an inventor. Pa taught me to shoot pretty good. I'm fast too if I say so myself. I reckon the only one who'd come close to me would be my Pa's old pal Eddie McGivern, and Eddie ain't been exactly anxious to have a shootin' contest with me. But Eddie makes his livin' at it and it's just a hobby for me so I leave him be. I like to tinker with machines 'n engines 'n stuff like that, and that's more my focus now than fancy shootin'. Ma says I was fortunate I got Pa's brains. 'Course I didn't get none of Ma's looks, which are wasted on radio, unfortunately. Ma's show's a bit low-brow for most of the kids at school, but Hector says he's a big fan so I'm proud of it.

Oh, yeah, my school's a place called Plumfield, and it's stuffed with the kids of big gun artist types. Plumfield has got to be the most cock-eyed excuse of a school anybody ever clapped eyes on. They let all the kids run wild, but somehow or other they all seem to wind up educated. Hector says everyone tries to see whether they can get away with doin' nothin'. Maximilian holds the record at two weeks. I lasted about a day until I discovered they had a machine shop which except for Walsh and his gang of desperadoes nobody ever uses. I kicked them out and now the shop's practically mine! Of course after I got to be friends with Summer she roped me into Dr. Bonnette's "Cultural Studies" class, which I s'pose is how the whole thing works. I may still be a hick, but I can debate the finer points of Nietzsche or Schopenhauer, if any of you'd care to step outside.

[This message has been edited by MattLeo (edited December 06, 2010).]

[This message has been edited by MattLeo (edited December 06, 2010).]


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LDWriter2
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Not too bad sounding there. Kinda neat character I think but as i take a day or two to think her over I wonder what type of story it is. I mean SF or Fantasy or Urban Fantasy or horror?

Kinda reminds me of a female MC in a couple of books. I see if I can find one of the two I have so I can tell you the titles and writer. But that reminds me the third one should have been out months ago.


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Robert Nowall
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Your pal Hector's thinking of Nellie Bly, late 19th / early 20th century muckraking journalist. I wouldn't let him ride you about something that he's gotten wrong...
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MattLeo
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Ha! Hector bein' mistaken? Don't that take the rag off the bush!

But far as Hector ridin' *me*, you got hold of the wrong end of the stick, Robert. I got that boy wrapped around my little finger -- not that I used my feminine wiles or nuthin' like that. I reckon most boys my age are so het up all the time that takin' advantage (like some folks I could name), well that just ain't sportin'. I prefer to keep everything strictly accordin' to Hoyle. Anyhow, Hector and me hang with Summer all the time, and next to her I'm built like a scarecrow with a face to match.

Now most of the other gals at school do manage to find fellas to squire them around, but those fellas lard on the axle grease pretty thick. Personally, I ain't keen on the humiliation. They gotta lay it on thick, see, cause all those gals know deep down they got a red ribbon pinned on 'em, not a blue one. Don't you fall for Maximilian tellin' you I hate boys though. He's just steamed cause if I'm susceptible to his soft solder, I ain't lettin' on. If a fella ever falls to me, I want him to do it 'cause he knows I'm a better man than he is.

Now Mr. LDWriter2, I reckon you must be a little off your nut, talkin' about real life like it's a book or somethin'. I also thought you might be gettin' a little fresh askin' me about "fantasies", but Hector says you prob'ly mean romances, like King Arthur and the like, so I'm lettin' that pass. I do like science fiction. I pick up Amazing Stories every quarter, and Astounding comes out every other month. I like the super-science stuff in Wonder Stories the best.

I'm good at science, and right now my main research project is Hector, who's nice as pie but weird. For example, I got hard proof Hector's got ESP, although he denies it and gets his back all up if you mention anything supernatural. Now some folks would call that magic, but I say if I can study it, it's science. In fact, I reckon if it's science that looks like magic, then it's got to be super-science. I once clocked Hector cheerin' up Gail Pierson after her dog got run down. It took him four minutes, forty seconds by my stopwatch, which must be some kind of record. It's darn near miraculous, since Gail's so thick it normally takes her five minutes to even notice somebody else's in the room with her.

I reckon Hector's ESP is two way, but it ain't like talkin' on the telephone or nuthin'. It's about noticin' things. Half the kids in this school don't even know Hector exists, even though they see him practically every day. That's about the weirdest thing I've ever seen. I spent a month collectin' data, and there's only four of us who consistently remember doin' something with Hector twenty-four hours later.

But I don't want to give you the wrong idea about Hector. He's peculiar, but sound on the goose. He's a gentleman, unlike Maximilian. Hector would never take advantage of a lady in distress, even if she wanted him to.


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LDWriter2
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quote:

Now Mr. LDWriter2, I reckon you must be a little off your nut, talkin' about real life like it's a book or somethin'. I also thought you might be gettin' a little fresh askin' me about "fantasies", but Hector says you prob'ly mean romances, like King Arthur and the like, so I'm lettin' that pass. I do like science fiction. I pick up Amazing Stories every quarter, and Astounding comes out every other month. I like the super-science stuff in Wonder Stories the best.

Umm, well yes, must have gotten my threads right nicely mixed up Nellie old girl. I've a bit of a red face, I've looked for what I read before that one, but blimy I can't find it. But I do love accents and yours is so lovely it must have confused my old, addled mind


However, I must correct one little bit of misinformation you have there. Fantasy as a legit type of story(no, not of an unmentionable acts between adults) has been around for a good long time. I believe a Mr. Tolken is working on one right as we speak but his would be the latest in a series of such tales stretching back into the fog of history.


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LDWriter2
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But about Hector, are you telling us that someone does remember him ten hours later after doing something with him? Or twenty? Or did you ask the students that soon after they did something with him?


That is indeed an interesting study, it could be worth listening to how you figure out how he works it and why, when you do. Or what adventures you have with him with this unique talent.


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MattLeo
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Well, you nailed it, LDWriter2. Most folks recall Hector a few minutes after they talk to them, but almost none of 'em remember a day later. I kinda stumbled on that by accident.

Remember I told you how Maximilian was slick? Well he scouted Summer and me for near a week before inflictin' himself on us. We was havin' this dumb argument, and I make a remark about Hector I'm kinda ashamed to repeat so I won't. Nacherly, Maximilian picks just that moment to stick his oar in. After that all I could think of was how mustarded Hector'd be when Maximilian told him what I said. Maximilian didn't, but stuff a gal's ashamed of has this sneaky way of bushwhackin' her. Every so often I'd be mindin' my own business, then that memory would pop up and sting me like a hornet. I was feeling mighty low.

Now I'd always pegged Hector as a kinda creepy little loner so I'd always steered clear of 'im, but now I reckoned it was my duty to stand up and split fair with the boy. So I did, and man, was I ever a dog chasin' his first porcupine. First off, remember how I told you I pegged Hector as a creepy *little* loner? Well, I sit down next to him, and darn if he ain't at least six foot six and a lean eighteen stone, give or take a few. How in tarnation could I miss that? Next to all the other fellas I know, Hector's a giant.

Secondly, you know how when you try to apologize to folks they always try to put a spoke in your wheel? Well, here I was all fixed to wrassle Hector into acceptin' my apology, and the next thing I know we're shakin' hands and the hatchet's buried. Now this is gonna sound cockeyed, but I reckon that's even more amazin' than his masqueradin' as a midget. Somehow or other Hector made that apology move quicker than a dose of castor oil through a goose.

So of course I started asking around and you could have knocked me over when a feather when I found out only a handful of folks like me knew he even existed. My curiosity was piqued. I got this here notebook I carry around to jot ideas in. Mostly its full of sketches for this supercharger I'm designin' to put on a wrecked Curtis Jenny my Pa bought a few years back. So every time I see Hector do somethin' unusual for someone, like cheer 'em up when they're down or help them over a problem they're stuck on, I write it down in the book and note the time. Then I wait for various intervals then buttonhole the victim. It's kinda like radioactive decay. From my data I calculate the half-life of the average Hector memory at just a hair over three hours. Don't that beat all?

[This message has been edited by MattLeo (edited December 09, 2010).]


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LDWriter2
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So have you meant Hector's parents? If so do people remember them?

And does Hector look funny in anyway? I mean besides his height. His eyes or the shape of his face?


And have you asked anyone how they see him? That would be a harder question to ask, wouldn't want them to think of you a strange now but it could be done.


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MattLeo
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Well, Hector's parents passed on when he was a baby and he was raised by his uncle Dr. Chin and that gang of Vikings he's got workin' for him. I swear I ain't makin' that up. First time I went to Hector's house I had to pinch myself to prove I wasn't havin' some kinda weird dream. In the crime magazines I read the hero's always got a giant mystical Chinese butler, so I reckon turnabout's fair play. Dr. Chin won't hire a feller unless he's from Iceland, is at least six feet tall, and has a genius level IQ. He could stuff a longboat with those Vikings of his and have enough left over for a pair of dinghies.

Dr. Chin's a charmin' ole joker; sharp as a tack and a slick operator too. Maximilian tried crossin' swords with the him, but Maximilian's about as helpless as a newborn babe when it comes to any kinda contest of wits with the perfesser. That was months ago and I'll bet Maximilian still ain't worked out how he got buffaloed.

I reckon everybody knows Dr. Chin 'cause he's a big bug over at Harvard. If you go over to his house there ain't much doubt he's got plenty cabbage and ain't shy about throwin' it around. Folks always notice that. I don't reckon I see much physical resemblance between him and Hector. The perfesser's about my height, and he dresses like a dandy; mostly conservative but he's always got at least one piece of fancy riggin' on him. He certainly ain't bashful around the ladies. He's always extra gallant, maybe even a bit flirty, but in a harmless old feller way.

Come to think of it, Dr. Chin has this way of poppin' out of the woodwork when you don't expect him. That's kinda like Hector, only Hector don't pop.

Dr. Chin always stays the same size, but Hector kinda gets smaller as folks' memory fades. When I was avoidin' him I thought he was a little fella, but now that I'm hangin' out with him he stays six-six all the time. Some folks don't ever seem to notice how big he is, even when they're talkin' to 'em. Those folks are idiots to a man. But Maximilian's a blockhead too in my opinion, and he sees how big Hector is. I don't know what to make of that. Maximilian says that means he's got hidden depths. Ha! About the only person I know who knew Hector was a giant all along was Summer.

As far as Hector's eyes lookin' funny, I don't know many Chinamen but they look like regular Chinaman eyes to me. He's got a big, round kinda baby face that certainly ain't handsome but ain't repulsive neither. He dresses kinda like Frankenstein, but that's to hide the fact he's built like Superman. His waist measurement would almost be respectable for a gal, and he's got arms that are bigger than most fellas' legs. I like Hector's shoulders best 'cause they're nice and big, and if it ever gets back to him that I said that I'm gonna make you wish you was never born. Count on that, cause it ain't a threat, it's a promise.


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LDWriter2
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So basically you have a Chinamen who is built like a lumberjack even though a lot of them have smaller bodies-much like the other students see him- and he lives with a bunch of people who look like a ship load of Vikings that got shipwrecked near where you live and they all work for a Prof who has money and smarts.

Your friend can make people feel kindly toward him and either on purpose or by accident he makes people forget about him after a day or so. He's a nice guy, who is smart.

Oh, just thought of something. Do the teachers also forget him? I know the school doesn't have a regular routine of school work but they must have some records on the students and if they think they will be graduating some time.


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MattLeo
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Well, I don't know about people feelin' kindly toward Hector, 'cause on the whole he prefers not to be noticed. As for nice, well, let me put it this way. Before I met Hector, the nicest person I ever met was my friend Jeannie. Jeannie's about as nice as a human bein' could possibly be, and Hector's even *nicer* than she is.

Technic'ly, I suppose that means Hector can't be human. Since he obviously has to be human, I guess that means he's nicer than I personally can imagine a human bein' managin' to be. That's kinda cockeyed, as *nice* ain't somethin' you normally can be *extreme* about, like bein' *good*. Somebody who's superhumanly *good* you call a "saint", but there ain't no word for someone like Hector, 'cause normally there's a limit to how nice a body can be.

Now the point about the teachers and Hector's a good one, and they do kinda keep track of students, but the idea that that's on account a graduatin' is almost a barrel's worth of misconceptions. The way you graduate here is you get up in school assembly and declare you're ready. Then the *students* take a vote. Now I know that sounds cockeyed, but it ain't easy 'cause the students are way tougher than the teachers would be. Personally I ain't ever voted anyone up. So now that you mention it, Hector's probably headin' for trouble. He should be graduatin' next year, although some folks hang on until they get kicked out for bein' twenty.

But I reckon the teachers know Hector exists.I s'pose they don't count as far as he's concerned so he let's 'em. But I doubt they know how much brain power Hector's packin', 'cause the joint would be swarmin' with scientists wantin' to pick 'im apart.

[This message has been edited by MattLeo (edited December 13, 2010).]


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Crane
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Hi Nellie, such a sincere delight to meet you. You've told us about Hector. He's clearly a special person, I can see why you'd like being around him. I'd certainly like to be around someone like that. It also seems clear that there's something special about you, Summer, and Maxmillion; after all, you three seem to be the ones who are able to remember him. Why do you think that is? What's so special about you three?

You seem to be such a fiercely loyal person (a great quality in a friend). What makes you so loyal to these friends of yours? You're quite pugnacious as well. Does it get you into trouble much? Are you as good in a fight as you talk? Would you ever kick a man when he's down? Do you fight fair? Do you carry a weapon?

The other thing that strikes me about you is your fearlessness. Do you see yourself this way? Are you afraid of anything? Are you hard-boiled to the core, or is there a soft-gooey center in there somewhere? Forgive me for asking so bluntly, but where's the chink in your armor?


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MattLeo
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Well, Mr. Crane, I s'pose I oughtta take the loyalty question first. My Pa always taught me to stand up to bullies and cheatin' big-shots, otherwise they'd walk all over the little guys. Most of the fights I got in when I was a girl was with bullies. Ma didn't like me fightin' but as long as I was dealin' justice to some mean hombre, Pa'd always looked the other way.

Pa made me promise, practic'ly with his dyin' breath, to stand on my own two feet and spit in the eye of anybody that tried to push us little guys around. So it's kinda a creed with me. Anyhow I've got to get a little rough. If you're a gal they don't let you do nuthin', not unless you raise a ruckus.

I don't get in no trouble because I ain't a violent person; I don't mess with no-one who don't deserve it. People who know me know better, or they learn quick. Last year a masher messed with Summer, grabbed her right out on the sidewalk like she was public property or somethin'. I s'pose that might've got me in trouble, but I'll bet that guy was too yeller to tell the folks at the hospital a gal put 'im there. I reckon I put an end to his mashin' career.

Anyhow I had to get that outta the way to answer your question about what what makes us three special. The answer is dunno, but in case you don't know there's this guy runnin' Germany now who's the biggest low-down bully the world's ever seen. I reckon you could put Hitler on a pedestal and a snake'd have to stoop to spit on 'im. Far's I can see the one thing we all have in common is we hate Hitler. Hatin' Hitler's the one thing other than himself Maximilian's passionate about. And music of course.

Now 'sfar as weapons, Pa was a gunsmith so I got tons of guns. My favorite's this Smith and Wesson Police Special Pa fixed up special for speed shootin'. But it ain't exactly a vest pocket pistol, and folks out East here ain't keen on gals wanderin' around wearin' a gun belt. I raided Ma's scrap basket and sewed the sweetest little quilted pouch so it wouldn't get messed up in my purse, which is kinda cluttered. But mostly I use my fists. And far's fightin' fair's concerned, you're barkin' up the wrong tree. The bums who need a serious lickin' ain't never heard of the Marquis of Queensbury, so I ain't above payin' 'em back in kind. So I'd say I always fight fair, but sometimes fightin' dirty's fair.

Fightin's a last resort, see? But if I gotta fight, I don't ask for no quarter and don't give none, neither. Folks that can't defend themselves, that's one thing. But fellers who pick on those folks need a taste of their own medicine, or they'll never learn.

I don't spend a lot of time thinkin' about what's in me, so I don't know if I got a center, gooey or otherwise. And if you're bein' offensive askin' about "chinks in my armor", I just got a kinda soft spot for Hector, that's all. It ain't nuthin' and I *don't* need him takin' care of me. I can take care of myself. I always fight my own battles, specially after Pa passed away. I don't need no feller to do it for me.

[This message has been edited by MattLeo (edited August 03, 2011).]


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Crane
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OOC: That chink in the armor remark is hilariously naughty! It made my eyes bug out (did she really just say that??) before I started laughing.
---
IC: What would happen if you four got the opportunity to face Nazis? Would there be a blood-bath?

Would you mind showing me your purse? I think you can tell a lot about a girl from what kind of purse she's got and what's inside.

How did your father die? You seem to look up to him, would you want to die the same way he did when your time comes?


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MattLeo
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(OOC: Crane -- sorry I didn't notice you'd posted some questions until recently)

Crane: What would happen if you four got the opportunity to face Nazis? Would there be a blood-bath?

Nellie: Well, I s'pose Maximilian'd have a fit if we talked about German folks like they're all Nazis or somethin'. He's one of them German Bohemians. And I s'pose some of the low-man Nazis are just idiots who don't know better. But yeah, if it were me and they didn't surrender, there'd be a bloodbath. Now Hector, I don't reckon he could bring himself to swat a fly. He'd outthink 'em into surrendering by accident. Or he'd sneak into camp with his invisibility thing then carry 'em off to jail one by one. I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to show the poor lambs the error of their ways, God help 'im. Maximilian would run away. He ain't a coward or nuthin', he's just more sensible 'bout fightin' than I am. I reckon if Hector were in danger Maximilian might do somethin' rash.

Crane: Would you mind showing me your purse? I think you can tell a lot about a girl from what kind of purse she's got and what's inside.

Nellie: Well, alright I s'pose.

[digs in her purse and pulls out a triangular pouch made from quilted fabric. The fabric has tiny red and white flowers and the pouch closes with a big red button]

Nellie: This here's the pouch I sewed for the revolver my Pa fixed up for me. And somewhere in her I got ... [pulls out another matching rectangular pouch and ] ... extra rounds ... [pulls out a hairbrush and tosses onto the table] Gah! This thing's filthy! I wouldn't use it to curry a pig.

[Digs some more and pulls out a long strip of spring steel that has been ground thin on one end.]

This here's a special pry-bar I ginned up out of some old leaf spring stock. The guys 'n me are goin' out to explore the old Plumfield campus so I reckoned we needed a crow-bar for breakin' and enterin'. There ain't room in my purse though so I made this. It's a lot lighter than a crowbar and the spring action gives you more advantage than you'd guess from the length 'n all.

[Pulls out horseshoe, then a whetstone]

Lucky horseshoe. Believe it or not I've been carryin' this here whetstone around for years before I made my pry bar, but I lost the pocket knife last year. I just never got around to cleanin' out my purse I guess, but it came in handy. I used it last year on the carnival midway t' sharpen the darts in the break-the-balloon game.

Let's see here ... [pulls out a slingshot, a broken compass, and old pocket watch, long L-shaped piece of wire with a wooden handle] Junk mostly I reckon, but this here wire thingummy is a dowsin' rod. I ginned it up to prove to Hector dowsin' really works, but the pivot's jammed so it ain't no use. Pocket watch's only an empty case. Now I remember! I swapped my pocket knife for this because it was gold. I reckoned I could sell it and buy like ten new knives.

[Takes out several fat lab notebooks, a slim black book, and a pile of pulp magazines]

This here's my Hector observations notebook, my engineerin' drawins, my pocket reference ... That's powerful useful when you need a math formula or to know how to prepare muriatic acid from stuff lyin' around the house 'n stuff like that. Oh, these are back issues of Astondin', Super-Science Stories, and Phantom Detective.

Mostly old school papers 'n stuff left I reckon ... [pulls out a pocket change purse] This here's a my change purse. I got an old Morgan dollar innit I scammed Maximilian with last year. [roots around a bit more and pulls out a steel box about an inch thick, by six by ten] My pocketbook toolbox! I'd been lookin' for that. [Takes out half of a pair of 7x50 binoculars] Oh, these are a pair've night glasses I cut down to save on weight. [Reaches in one last time to her purse. Her nose wrinkles and she quickly removes her hand.] Ewww! I think that used to be a sandwich. That's it, I'm done. Like I said it's probably mostly old papers and odd books n' whatnot.

Crane: How did your father die? You seem to look up to him, would you want to die the same way he did when your time comes?

Nellie: My Dad's ticker gave out after him and me pulled the engine on our old Model-T. 'Cause the engine was out I had to saddle a horse 'n ride to get the sawbones, 'n by the time we was back he was passed away. But he looked so bad when I left I wasn't surprised or nuthin'. I reckon he knew 'cause last thing he did was tell mewhat to do with the rest of my life: stand on my own feet and give the bullies hell basic'ly. It weren't a nice way to go that's fer sure, but I reckon most people got it worse.

[This message has been edited by MattLeo (edited September 08, 2011).]


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