Pt. 14

...Michael Jackson!  How did you get it?  Wait, I don't want to know," the young boy finished before the old man even had the chance to try to explain.  "Put it away, please ... it's making me queasy."

Ebenezer tied the bag tightly closed, and put it carefully into Bo's bag. Then he cleared his throat and said, "I have some good news and bad news for you, young man, and they are one in the same.  The next step in your journey will take you into the Appalachian Mountains, deep into the heart of West Virginia.  There you will meet a man known to the locals as 'Cob Bobby' - he will tell you where to go next to find Rick Allen's arm.  On top of reciting what's on that paper to him, you will need to bring Cob chewing tobacco and a Pashmina.  Any color."

Bo sat, his mouth agape, just blinking for a full thirty seconds before he said, "Any color?"

"That's what I said." the man answered.  "If you'll excuse me, I've a business to attend to.  But one last thing - I'd tone down the wardrobe while you're in West Virginia."  With that, Ebenezer disappeared into an even back-er back room, so Bo collected his things and went out into the street to find Tom who'd managed to convince a stranger to stand on a corner and sing, of all songs, "Trickle Trickle" with him.  It might have been a good rendition, had either of them actually known all the words.

The young monk finally managed to drag Tom Jones away with the promise of letting him pay for the shopping trip they'd need to get a Pashmina (any color) for Cob Bobby and to get both of them properly outfitted so as not to stand out in the hills of West Virginia.

After a fairly uneventful train trip, two decidedly uncomfortable bus connections, and one frankly terrifying taxi ride, Bo and Tom reached the point in their excursion where they had to continue on foot.  They hiked for nearly four hours before they reached the small shack belonging to the man known as Cob Bobby, Bo struggling to haul his hefty frame up the steep hillside and Tom, cheerful as ever, chirping away about everything and nothing.

The boy reached inside his bag for the items he needed to give his contact - the chewing tobacco, the Pashmina - as well as the paper with the words he'd have to recite.  He looked the words over one last time, took a deep breath and knocked on Cob's door three times.  After about 30 seconds, the door swung open hard, and there Cob Bobby stood - all 5'6'' of him.  He had short, wavy brown hair that stood out in all directions and light blue eyes that practically blazed under bushy eyebrows.  He was as thin as a rail and hadn't showered properly in at least three weeks.

He stood in his doorway looking back and forth between the young boy clutching a piece of paper with his mouth open, and the older gentleman grinning like fool.  "Well?!" Cob shouted, stomping his foot.

Bo blinked and said, "