Year 1989 after Diaspora Immortales, three years before my untimely death

  The Unbound King shall in turn make loose his rage. Was it benevolence, or evil, to shatter his cage?

  The Fool thinks the world is his stage, but the Author knows reality is her page. Is it the beginning, or an end of an Age? Death is indomitable, but life is the same.

  -Rex Indominus- I guess I'm a poet now

  "Hello, I've got a package for, uh..., a Miss Kalliste?" i spoke, hopefully loud enough for my voice to penetrate the thick oaken door I was standing in front of.

  I had just slammed the cool ass door knocker that was attached to the door. It was silver, in the shape of a wolf's head. It was so detailed it looked like individual hairs were etched into it's surface. The thing probably cost a million bucks or something, so I was kind of scared of slamming it like it shows in the movies, so I just picked up as high as it would go and then let it drop.

  Even then I still cringed a tad when I heard a loud thud sound when it struck the heavy door.

  "Oh well, not like she can really blame me if it does get damaged. After all, what's the use of having a door knocker if people never use it." I thought, reassuring myself.

  I was snapped out of my thoughts by a slight creak and the sight of the heavy door opening just enough for me to see an old lady's face.

  "Hello. And you are?" You could tell age had gotten to her vocal cords, because she had that same little pitch all old ladies eventually get. Her voice was actually very sweet though, with the hint of an accent that I couldn't quite place.

  Surprisingly, she was just barely a couple inches shorter than me, even at her advanced age, and she had surprisingly few wrinkles, mostly around her mouth, forehead, and eyes. but her hair was thin and as white as snow.

  "I think they call those laughing wrinkles. Or is it smiling wrinkles? One thing I do know for certain, Grandma would love to know her skincare routine. Supposing she has one that is. I've seen old black ladies and men with faces like a newborn. Whoever said black don't crack musta been a genius, because science literally proved them right.

  (A.N: look it up, darker people are darker because they have extra melanin, which is the body's main defense mechanism against harmful UVA and UVB radiation, for all you prejudiced people out there. And when I say black I mean people of African ancestry. Not trying to offend anybody but I'm also not gonna pander to anybody either)

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Not to say that this lady in particular was black, but she was either deeply tanned or from somewhere near the Mediterranean, at least I thought so.

  "My name is Cade, Miss Kalliste. Excuse me for not announcing myself ahead of time, but it seems we don't have either your phone number or email taken down," I informed her.

  "My family used to call me Lena, Mr. Cade. I hope you don’t think this is forward of me, but is there perhaps a certain name that your friends or family call you that you would privilege me with?” Lena spoke, almost in a whisper.

  “Well, my friends call me Barry,’ Before she even asked I continued. ‘I know, how did they get that from Cade? It’s cause I play left-tackle for my football team, and in one of my games an opponent described the feeling of running into me as what he imagined it would feel like to run into a riot-shield face first. My friends started calling me Barricade cause nobody could move me during that season. In fact, no one has since then either, now that I think about it. It got shortened to just Barry after that, Miss Lena,”

  I wondered at first why she wanted to know my friend’s nickname for me, but maybe she planned on a lot of repeat business and was just getting ahead of trying to make friends with me. After all, people do get really lonely when they’re always by themselves, so I figured she just wanted someone she could talk to whenever I dropped her packages off.

  “Ah, now that introductions are out of the way, I think I shall stick with Cade. Much more refined than Barry in my opinion. After all, some of us old ladies do have a reputation to upkeep, you know?” She said, though with a smile to let me know she meant no offense by it. “

  “Either or Ma’am, I don’t really have a preference. I don’t mean to rush you, but I do have a package for you,” I spoke.

  “Ah, you do at that. I’ll take it now. Do you need my signature?” she asked me, finally opening the door wide enough for her to step one foot out onto the porch and stretch her hand out towards the package in my hands.

  “Nah, it’s just a couple pounds of Macadamia nuts. Someone must really think you like these.”

  “Yes, yes I do. They’re my favorite, in fact. Before my brother David passed he was the last remaining sibling of mine alive. His lawyer sent me a letter telling me that my brother hadn’t wanted me to feel all alone now that my entire family had passed, so I would be receiving random packages of my favorite things just to remember him by. He always was the kindest out of all my relatives.”

  “Big family?” I asked. I knew the feeling myself, having eight siblings. You love em’ to death, but sometimes you just wanna arrange a firing squad for the whole lot and just be done with it.

  “Oh, dear, you have no idea. I’m probably half-sibling or cousins to half the known world because of my father, and most of my dear siblings.” She said exxageratingly(or so I thought at the time)

  “What, is her family Mormon, or just a buncha hoes?”

  “Then it sounds like you’re not as alone as you think.’

  “Oh no, while I know of my families past tendencies, I don’t have any contact or knowledge of the results of my family’s philandering”

  I snorted slightly at that.

  “Well, I probably better be headed off Miss Lena, I’m sure my dad has more stuff for me to deliver by now”

  “Oh, can’t you stay for just a few minutes? My chocolate chip cookies are just about to come out of the oven and they’ll cool down about five minutes after that. And, if you stay long enough I’ll make us both a macadamia nut covered banana split. I so seldom get company, and never such a polite and strapping young man as yourself.

  “Is this old lady hitting on me? Screw it, God and I both know she had me hooked at the word chocolate. And maybe, if them cookies are good enough, she might be in for a little surprise.”