I hated it. Maybe it was just me, but I felt like Zeus was asking each of us, "So what are you made of?" I hoped he would drop his look and go back to packing. I wish I had never gone into the artery and never "met" Singularia. I hoped everybun around me would decide, right here and now, that the whole idea is just ridiculous, and we need to forget about it. I hoped they would agree that we were finally talking about something way above our pay grades, and there's no sense in even discussing it.
My other voice, the tiny and very quiet one, only waited for my rage and fear to run out of steam. I felt my resignation bubbling up through me and closing above my head. I felt like I was sinking deeper and deeper into it. The little voice whispered, "Yeah, we're gonna go for it, aren't we, we're gonna bust them out."
"Sounds like you've gotten yourselves into one heck of a logistics nightmare! You better get busy. Feeding coordinates to Singularia so you can play tourists just became a minor part of this adventure, didn't it?", said Frankie.
I was fuming again at Molly. Oh, why did she have to go there?!? Why didn't she visit some organic carrot farm or something? Then we could play pirates and make off with a load of veg and be done with it.
I said to Abby, "Well, let's see if we can clean that pot belly oven in the basement. I think we can get started on it before the hoomins get up. Come on."
I just wanted to get away and get busy with something. Maybe I could work off some of this fluster. I wanted to talk to some bunny about what just went through my head. I started to feel ashamed about what percolated through my noggin. Now I was surprised by my initial reaction to Molly's story.
We hopped down to the basement. Sure enough, there was a pot belly stove sitting in the corner. It had a big, round mid section, with a large oval door. It sat on short, stubby legs and had a flat top. First, we greased the door hinges to keep this beast from squeaking.
"Why does Zeus need it cleaned?", asked Abby.
"No bunny know, it's Zeus.", I answered.
"By the way, Abby, how do you feel about all this stuff Molly revealed? I got scared to death, it was all so overwhelming."
"I know, you looked it, too. Mr. Toes, I don't blame you. You know, even if you don't think about stuff like that, it doesn't make it go away. For now, though, I believe that it's too early to panic. She has an idea; that's all. We may not be able to do anything about it."
Abby sneezed, and then sneezed again. The inside of the stove was empty but dusty. There were some remnants of ashes, mixed with rust. No one used this stove in ages. We cleaned it out a smuch as we could, but now one of us had to get in. We put a light inside it first, and then Abby squeezed in and scraped the hard to reach places. To get the stuff out, she kicked it back, hard, like a pile of dirt, right in my face. Now I sneezed; hard. She realized what happened, turned around and stuck out her smiling face, "So sorry, Major. I forgot myself!" she grinned. I giggled and said, "No biggie." and tried to clean my face.
"Where did you want to explore through Singularia?", asked Abby.
"After what Molly told us, well, I am a little bit ashamed to say."
"Oh, come on, you can tell me, what is it, or where is it?"
"No, I don't want to say, it's really silly. It's very vain and useless. Molly put me in my place. I wanted to make it a surprise for you, Abby, but now I don't think it's a good idea."
"Oh, you're so sweet, I just don't think I'd like a surprise like that, you know. That could be very scary. You know how you're surprised by your reaction to Molly's story? I could have a similar response to your surprise, who knows. Come on, tell me!"
I got closer to the stove, stood up on my rear paws and whispered my idea into Abby's ear.
"Oh my bun!", she exclaimed.
"That's a great, great destination! It's not stupid at all! I'm not sure we could use it for anything, but it sound like a ton of fun!"
"See, that's what I thought exactly, it's useless. Fun, but useless. What could we use it for, aside from just getting our kicks?", I protested.
"Well, it's hard to tell now, but it would be quite a feat! I'm sure we could use it for something. How about we bring it up for a discussion? And by the way, fun is useful. We need it!"
I felt that scary squeeze in my gut again.