Well, I did it, Birch, you old goat. I put out the word that the new kid’s all ginchy. Even went to him myself; damn stump’s been leaking magical gunk again. Rest of the town’s still on pins and needles but people are coming to him with their problems instead of sitting at home waiting to die. As far as I’m concerned, he’s the town doctor now, and no one’s going to undermine that.

Now, if you don’t mind, can you tell me what the devil you’re up to?

The town’s been focused on young Vic because they’re not used to Negroes up here, let alone free ones. Lam’s been white-knuckled about him too, but of course he’s got jitters about Negroes in general. But you’re the one who invited him. You know what’ll get the townsfolk in a twist. You decided that you should retire away from town, where all we can do is send letters you don’t bother replying to. You knew it’d be a fiasco and you decided you didn’t want to be anywhere near him when he started here. It’s not like you to be this careless. Whatever’s happening here, you’re the mastermind; Vic’s just the patsy.

I’m too old to be unscrambling schemes, Birch, and you’re far too old to be pulling them. I made a choice when I quit the cavalry after the war. I could spend another decade or two poking around old hextraps and hunting down renegade homunculi, ruining my joints and losing my mind, or I could stay home with the woman I married and actually help raise my children. Last thing I want is to spend the next few months untangling this mystery instead of focusing on my family. So how about we spare each other some trouble and you just tell me why your boy’s here? I’m not planning to tan his hide or nothing. He’s a decent sort, likes good cooking and good conversation. He’s not a bad doctor either - did better on my stump than some medics during the war. And everyone in my house has come around on him. Hell, I think he’s the first person in this town that Gigi actually wants to talk to. But I feel like I’m being hoodwinked here, and I sure as hell don’t appreciate that.

Theo, I’ve trusted you as the town doctor for what must be thirty years. I trusted you enough to let my daughter raid your bookshelves when she got bored. I’m trusting you enough to let me in on this joke, because right now I’m not laughing.