“Talk about what?” I said, realizing as I spoke that the words were coming out forced and tense.
“Come on, Skeeve. It’s obvious that what the Butterfly said back there has you upset. I don’t know why, it sounded like pretty good advice to me, but maybe talking it out would help a bit.”
“Why should I be upset?” I snapped. “He only challenged all the priorities I’ve been living by and suggested that my best friend is probably the worst thing in my life. Why should that bother me?”
“It shouldn’t,” Kalvin responded innocently, “unless, of course, he’s right. Then I could see why it would bother you.”
I opened my mouth for an angry retort, then shut it again. I really couldn’t think of anything to say. The Djin had just verbalized my worst fears, ones I didn’t have any answers for.
“. . . And running away from it won’t help! You’re going to have to face up to it before you’re any good to yourself . . . or anyone else, for that matter.” Kalvin’s voice came from behind me, and I realized I had picked up my pace again. At the same moment, I saw that he was right, I was trying to run away from the issues, both figuratively and literally. With that knowledge, the fatigue of my mental and physical efforts hit me all at once and I sagged, slowing to a stop on the sidewalk.
“That’s better. Can we talk now?”
“Sure. Why not? I feel like getting something in my stomach, anyway.”
The Djin gave a theatrical wince.
“Ootch! You mean we’re going to try to find a restaurant again? Remember what happened the last time?”