#rivervale_lodge

"I don't know what it is, Connor. Can you show me?"

"Aye. I maybe getting it wrong"

He scuffs a foot a bit, looking unsure. "But I don't have a camp fire, and Miss Kerri said I'm not allowed in the kitchen unless there's someone This Tall around. "It's not clear how tall "this" is, because his hand shoots in the air and he hops a bit, straining towards an unattainable height. A glance at Dagmar. "Do you have a fire? We just need a little, an' a pot. Or a tin can if you eats all the beans out first"

"We could use the stove?"

"Siv is real tall..."

Siv starts up the oven

"it's better if you have fire outside... and you can camp in the snow...." He looks wistful for a moment, but then smiles. "But we can make it work. If you want." With his directions, they find a bottle of maple syrup, or possibly a gallon, knowing this lodge. He tells them to pour it into the pan, and insists on standing up on a step tool to watch carefully to see when it is 'done'.

"And you CAN'T touch it. Not at ALL. Because it LOOKs like a good idea, but once it starts to get bubbles, it's like, like, the worst thing, because it'shot, and it burns, but it sticks, and it sticks real good, and that's NOT a joke." He instructs them with a finger waving and solemnity.

Possibly the voice of experience.

Siv looks unsure about this but tries to follow the orders then whispers to Dagmar "Dagmar, search engine what I'm doing?"

To Dagmar, he instructs, "No, you gotta do this part. see..."

"Oh"

"Okay... no touching..." She CAN, however, stir quite ably.

"He finds a wooden spoon and is now waving it like a parade marshall, "Go outside and find some snow, like a big double-double armful of it, enough to fill the big lasagna pan. Oh! Can we have lasagna later? I like the noodle sheets, you tuck 'em in like a bed for the sauce..." A blink and he refocuses. "But make sure that it's NEW snow and the good stuff, all fluffy-fresh and soft, like it could almost make snowballs but then it crumbles just a bit and you go "awwww" because you were gonna throw it, but you can still put it down someone's back if you can run away fast enough."

Siv tries to do what is said, but in her head she has the image of Kerri appearing and ranting

"Siv, I'll stir - you get the snow?"

She's still not sure what the plan is, but....

How much trouble can they really get into? Connor leans over and carefully pours a little milk into the pan, and instructs Dagmar to stir it. "Usually we use bear milk. But I don't know if you can get that here, because I haven't seen any bears." Then he covers his mouth for a moment and glances around sheepishly. "But I'm not supposed to talk about the bears. But I guess maybe it doesn't matter, because we're far away now and no one here will bother them. "

Returnning with the snow , the new stuff

"Bear milk? Man, you gotta be brave to milk a bear..."

"I guess if it froze it could be 'yogi-urt'" Then "oh I've spent too much time around Vali"

"Don't be silly, that's just milk that Grandmother bear brings. Because otherwise I'm all jus' skin and bones and will never grow big so she brings milk and cookies and treats." A nod. "Don't you have a grandmother bear?" As if this is the most natural thing in the world.

"I don't have any grandparents."

"Least none that ever talked to Junkie Jen."

"Okay what are we doing next?"

Connor is watching the pot intently, whispering to himself. "Bubble bubble.. bub-bub-bubbly-blubbly... and... wait... and... and... and now! Off goes the fire!" He bounced up and down excitedly, and instructs them both to ladle some of the liquidy napalm into a teacup, and then shows them how to carefully lean over and pour it into the snow so that it makes a big blob. Yep, it's a... snow... blob alright. This is what he was so excited about? He beams at Siv and Dagmar, and instructs, "Now you! Who's Junkie Jen?" He asks, curious, although his eyes are stuck on the snow.

Dagmar pours the melted syrup as instructed, a blob in the tray of snow. "O, so the snow makes it into... ha! Candy!"

"Jen's my bio-mom. She's in jail."

Siv is surprised "It's not blowing up"

"Oh." He says, then offers, "My mama is far away too. But it's okay for her. Do you want us to go bust the walls down? I could chew through them I bet, if she needs to get out."

A shake of his head to Siv. "No exploding! The only trick is that you have to wash the pot later if you want to have any candy now. Pour, pour, before it gets too cold."

A scowl. "No. I hope she rots. She's not my mom, she just gave birth to me. "

"Pour all of it?" She makes sure there's not any lingering.

His ears flatten back a bit at that, and he looks unsure. Focusing back on the pot for the moment. "Any that doesn't come out now turns real, real hard later and you have to scrub for HOURS. That's why I like the bean can because you can throw it away."

"Oh, that makes sense, sure." Good naturedly, as if she hadn't scowled a moment ago. She tries to pour out as much as possible onto the melting tray of snow.

He shuffles a bit, biting at his lip as if to forestall another question. He glances to Siv.

"Okay..." siv says watching this and helping when asked

Not getting any guidance, he peeks back over at Dagmar. "Are you mad 'cuz she went away?"

She shakes her head. "I used to be, maybe. But she didn't want me."

"Jaymes however is a great dad" Siv says gently

"I..." A phone call "The land line? Oh snot. AH. I need to take that. Could be jessica."

"Pardon me, both. Try not to set fire to the kitchen hey?" A grin and off she goes

"... Jaymes is pretty great, yeah. Hey, is the candy ready?"

Now his ears shift, drooping a bit, and he nods slowly. "Me either. Because I'm a monster." Matter-of-factly. His head tilts to one side and he says softly, "But you're shaped right and not cursed. So I don't know why for you." He pokes at the snow, making sure that it's heaped up around the rapidly cooling and solidifying blobs.

ANd siv is gone

"Because Sam's bad." A shrug. "On the inside, where you can't see it."

He leans towards her and gives a sniff. "I can smell when an apple is bad inside even when it's all shiney and red outside. And you smell like snow and candy, and the mountains. Like hot metal and a warm fire. It's what blue smells like."

"That's Dagmar you smell. Dagmar is better than Sam, you know?" She dumps the pot in the sink, where the remnants of syrup can cool glass-hard.

"I don't know. Not really. I don't have a Sam. Just Connor and Buddy. And no one here likes Buddy, but no one there liked Connor." He blinks a bit, and nods. "I guess I do know. Which one is your favorite?" He leans over the blobs, eyeing the shapes they made in the snow. "It's like the shapes in clouds."

"It is..." She pokes at them. "I like Dagmar. She's strong, and nobody can touch her if she doesn't want, and she's special - people want her."

"Do you hate Sam?" He asks, tilting his head to one side. He sneaks a finger forward to press at one of the lumps, jerking away cautiously - but it's cooled enough, and he pokes it again with less fear.