Apocalypsis 02 - Warpaint

second. “He is pretty muscular.”
    “Yeah, right? I mean, how did he stay so buff if all he had to eat were Pringles?”
    “They’re fattening?” offered Peter, weakly.
    “Fattening, maybe. Muscle-building? Not so much.”
    “We should just ask him, instead of sitting here thinking the worst.”
    I snorted. “Right. We’ll just go up to him and say, ‘Did you used to eat people before you met us?’ ” I shook my head. “I think that’s almost the same as asking someone if he’s a child molester. He’s not going to admit it, and if he’s never done something terrible like that, it’ll offend him.”
    “So what if you offend him? We need to know.”
    “Well, if he’s not guilty of doing something bad, I don’t want to accuse him of it.”
    Peter sighed. “So we’re right back to where we started.”
    “Maybe. Maybe not.”
    “You have that devious look in your eye, Bryn. The one that makes my butt hairs stand on end.”
    I laughed. “Ew. I so do not need a vision of your bum fur in my mind right now.”
    “What are you thinking about? Tell me.”
    “Your butt hair, thanks to you. I was thinking of a plan before.”
    “Well ignore my butt hair for a minute and tell me your plan.”
    “I was just thinking that we can act like we don’t care and then follow him when he disappears again … see where he goes.”
    “There are only about five problems with that plan,” said Peter, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, obviously disappointed in my suggestion.
    “Oh, yeah? Enlighten me.”
    “Well, first, neither of us is good at sneaking.”
    “We could get one of the Meeks to do it for us.”
    “Which leads us to the other problem of tipping them off that we suspect Bodo of something bad, which I will go on the record as thinking is a bad idea. Even worse than your other one.”
    “What else?” I said, trying not to be offended about essentially being called an idiot.
    “He’ll catch us and then be hurt that we didn’t trust him and maybe not want to be with us anymore.”
    “Okay, I agree, that would suck - if he’s not a canner. Anything else?”
    “He could just be off doodling. And I sure as heck don’t want to walk up on that … activity.”
    I laughed. “I hear he’s a good doodler, though.”
    “Shut up.”
    “Is that it? All your reasons for why we shouldn’t go after him?”
    “Yeah. I think so.”
    “Well, none of them are good enough for me to listen to you.”
    “Okay, fine. But don’t say later that I didn’t warn you.”
    “I’m going to.”
    “I won’t listen.”
    “I’ll make you.”
    “I’ll titty twist you.”
    I covered my boobs. “Stay away from my lovely lady lumps.”
    Peter laughed. “Please. They’re more like mosquito bites than lumps.”
    I looked at him, exaggeratedly appalled. “How dare you insult my lady lumps, in the back and in the front.”
    “No one said anything about your lumps in the back. You actually have lumps in the back. Not so much in the front, though.”
    I removed my hands and looked down. “You may have a point. I’ve lost a lot of weight.”
    Peter shoved me gently before standing up. “Don’t worry about it. Hooters would just get in the way out here.”
    “Yeah,” I said, still examining my lack of lady lumpage. “They get sweaty, you know. This means I have less sweat.”
    “And we all know you could use less of that,” said Peter, giggling from the pantry area.
    “Are you organizing cans again, Mr. OCD?”
    “Of course.”
    I sighed. It was almost scary to think we were getting into a routine here. I wasn’t sure if it made me happy or nervous.
    I turned my thoughts back to Bodo, wondering where he was right now and what he was hiding. I couldn’t think of a single thing, other than former canner activity, that would keep him so shuttered off from us. But I was determined to find out what it was; and if that meant playing indian girl sneaking around in the swamp, I was going to do it.
    I thought of Coli. She was pretty good at it. Maybe she’d give me lessons. I planned to ask her the next time I saw her, which turned out to be at the meeting just a few hours later.
    ***
    The day had flown by. I ended up only doing two training sessions, and while I laid around waiting for a third to come, the sounds of Peter organizing cans and whatnot put me to sleep. I was awakened by the sounds of Peter and Bodo arguing about the drawings that Bodo wanted to put on the poles that supported our hut