Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

142 :: JOHN R. MABRY
“Well, the avocados aren’t the important thing, obviously.”
“I’m certain there are a few thousand avocado growers
and probably thousands more migrant workers that would
disagree with you, there.”
“What I mean to say is that we have no real interest in
avocados. It was...an experiment. To see if it could be done.”
“Well, congratulations, I suppose.”
“Don’t expect me to thank you fellers for depriving the
world of guacamole,” Dylan sniffed.
“I’m missing that a bit myself, I must admit,” Larch
feigned a pained look.
“So what’s this really about?” Richard asked.
Just then Charybdis came through the door with an
antique tea tray, hastily arranged with yellowed and cracked
china. He set the tray down on a cracked fiberboard coffee
table, and then turned and walked back to the kitchen, letting
the door swing behind him.
“Please excuse Charybdis’ rudeness.” Larch reached over
and filled the four cups. “And just to put your minds at ease,
I’ll drink whichever one you gentlemen don’t choose.”
“Thank you,” said Richard with a nod. He did not reach
for a cup. “What was the experiment intending to prove?
Why did you do it?”
Larch’s eyes narrowed. “Come now, Mr. Kinney, as you
well know, every order has its secrets.”
Richard did know about that, and in lieu of responding,
he picked up one of the cracked china cups and swirled tea
into its stained and ancient bowl.
Just then Terry emerged from the hallway and winked at
Richard. Richard took a sip of the tea, momentarily amazed
at how good simple things can be, especially when one is not
expecting them.
“Mr. Larch—”