Cassie in the Courtyard

Cassie looked across the open space of the courtyard to the fountain placed in the center. There were benches scattered around the park, allowing for different vantage points and she chose a seat in the sunshine and against the wind.

The fountain splashed playfully as fountains usually do. Cassie wondered if they ever splashed malevolently, and figured they did that on the other side where people gazing at the spray were hit with mists of water when the wind gusted.

She took out her journal and began to write. The first thing one must do in a journal is inscribe it with name and date. She knew she was Cassie, but her surname was uncertain. It changed with the incarnations her Boss gave her. It was, perhaps, irrelevant. She knew who she was and that was sufficient. She wrote inside the front cover: "Cassie." What was the date? The Station had no real time. Characters from across time, space, and even dimensions all gathered here. So to have to enter a date was going to be impossible.

Cassie mused. She pondered. She considered, thought, deliberated, and finally decided.

Across the top of the page she neatly inscribed: "Day 1." That was a solution. The puzzle was currently solved. Now, she needed a topic. What should she write about?

She sat comfortably in the sun, feeling warmth without overheating and with the sun behind her bench, she had no need to squint. She was content in this place. Perhaps instead of writing, she could take a nap. She closed her eyes momentarily. She knew she had not been asleep when a voice disturbed her.

She opened her eyes to a glorious sight. He was tall, dark, and handsome. His hair was slightly long and his eyes were almond shaped, he seemed Oriental. He was very muscular, his chest and shoulders were broad and his hips were narrow. His legs were long and braced by a couple of sheathed swords. He was dressed oddly rather than in Western style slacks and a shirt. "Hello," Cassie said in a low voice. "Do you speak English?"

"Not really, but at The Station it makes no difference. I've been here for years and have found that we all speak and hear in our own native tongues without need for translation. The difficulty can lie in words that have no meaning in the other person's language and so an occasional foreign word creeps in. Have you been here long? By the way, my name is Watanabe Hiro, but please call me Hiro."

"Did your Boss really name you Want To Be A Hero? That is unfortunate, but at least you got an entire name. Does your Boss always play in puns?" Cassie sighed. She was hesitant to ask but plunged on, "I only closed my eyes for a second and you appeared here. How did that happen?"

"First, my name is not a pun, but an honorable Japanese name, it is only sounds funny in English. Second, my appearing here was one of the quirks of The Station. There are many and they are all-pervasive. Even though I have been here for a long time, I've not discovered all there is to know. You are a recent visitor?"

"Well, I wouldn't call myself a visitor. I'm a recent inmate or perhaps prisoner. I've looked through the Boss Viewer and figure I will be here for quite some time. Have you watched your Boss?"

"At first, but it gets less interesting the longer you stay here. I'm no longer as dependent on the Boss as I once was. I've decided to become who I should have been when he created me. I've made a better life for myself here than I could have had in any of his books. Would you like to see where I live?" Hiro looked back over his shoulder in the direction of his lodgings. Then he turned his lustrous, dark eyes back to Carrie and slightly raised one eyebrow. "I won't hurt you."

Cassie looked at her journal and then back up at Hiro. "Why not," she thought, "it will give me something to write about." She picked up her supplies and said, "Sure." They walked away. Hiro had a strange rolling type gate and Cassie had to lengthen her stride to keep up.

Ah, an adventure.