GDJ Episode 37: Part Two

(A quick prelude. I'm sitting at the booth. Ron Edwards is standing on the other side. I look at him. He looks at me. I say, "7th Sea Sucks!" We both laugh. So much for Wick vs. Edwards.

(By the way, -Sorcerer- is what I wanted -Mage- to be. Go get it right now.)

Just yesterday, we talked about how I just barely got books for Gen-Con. Today, we talk about how I got those books on the plane.

Me and Jennifer drive back from the San Jose airport to Oakland. We pull up to the Wizard's Attic dock (the second time in four hours)and there's two pallots (I -know- I spelled it wrong, but I'm here in the G.O. booth with folks stopping me every two seconds and announcements blaring in my ear about J.M.S. [yeah, I'm sure he hates it, too, but I'm not stopping to spell his name] signing books in the Blue Room) of books there waiting for us.

Our original estimate was 17 books per box. We underestimated. There's 22 books per box. Each box weights about fifty pounds.

These are BIG, HEAVY books.

"The books are gorgeous, John," they tell me.

"The book looks great, John," says another.

I step over to a sealed box. I pull out my Swiss Army Knife (Be Prepared!). Slice. Peel away tape. An moment with my eyes closed. I take a deep breath.

And I open my eyes.

There's Thomas' cover. Right there. Big and Bright as the sun. It says "Orkworld" on the cover. It also says "John Wick" and "Thomas Denmark" in bright red and green letters.

Right there.

I pick it up in my hands. The cover is new book slick. It's got new book smell. It's three hundred and four pages heavy.

And it's mine. No, that's not right. It's -our- book.

I spend about fifteen minutes in complete shock. The Wife pulls me out of it. "We've got to go."

I nod and say nothing. Then, while we pile eight boxes into the car, I can't keep my mouth shut.

I hoop. I hollar. I jump up and down. I do happy ork dances.

"Is he always like this?" one of the Attic guys asks The Wife.

She nods slowly. "Yes. I'm afraid he is."

* * *

We drive another two hours back to our new pad in Petaluma. It takes me about ten minutes to fall down into a dead-still sleep. That lasts about an hour. Then, we drag ourselves back to our feet and rush back down to the airport for my flight.

But there's a problem. The boxes weight about fifty pounds. There's a seventy pound limit on luggage. I've got four boxes and the luggage limit is three. This means I've got to get my Scorpion hat on.

First thing: I tape the boxes together. Now, instead of four boxes, I've got two. Granted, they weight about a hundred pounds a piece. I'll have to pay a fee for the extra pounds.

That's -if- they weigh 'em.

We leave my two other bags in the car, pulling the boxes to the curb. The baggage guys in front take one look a the boxes. "They're about sixty pounds a piece," I say. They grab one, give it a lift and nod. "Feels about right."

Heh.

They've got no way to know for sure out here. No scale out here.

Heh. Heh.

He begins processing my ticket, but stop. "I'm sorry, sir," he says. You're ticket was re-processed today. You have to go in the terminal and get it there."

That's no good. They have scales in the terminal. Bad, bad, bad.

"Can he check in his luggage here and get his ticket inside?" asks The Wife.

"Sure!" he says.

God, I love her.

I go inside. We have a goodbye dinner together. I kiss her for five minutes. Then, I kiss her again.

She's got a new job. She can't go with. She won't be there when we sell the first copy. She won't be there when I give the first copy to The Great and Mighty Stafford.

She won't -be- there.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

(But then again, she only wanted to come for The Safehouse. Remember that. It's important later.)

I get on the plane, waving goodbye. Every time I tell her that word, I'm reminded of how much I miss her. How much I love her. And how easily each time I say goodbye could be the very last time I say anything to her.

(The last time I saw my grandfather alive, I told him goodbye. He shook his head. "No," he said. "Don't ever tell anyone goodbye. You don't want that to be the last words they hear.)

So, I tell her I love her.

And I haven't seen her since.

* * *

Tomorrow:

The First Day!
Cameos by your favorite game designers!
And John Wick vs. Gareth-Michael Skarka!

See you then.