Jesus, Arthur must really be out of sorts if he's being this cooperative.
Charlie looks at Arthur, curled there as if he would rather be anywhere else on or out of Earth. Then, one-handed, he pulls the rocking-chair in front of the couch so that he can sit directly facing him. He leans forwards: feet flat on the floor, forearms on his knees, fingers laced.
She's dead. He puts it on a shelf, next to her father and mother, and others. A whole lot of others. Time doesn't stop for him to wallow in that.
"And Michael Faust," he says, "in the prison pits."
Just in case Arthur thought he'd gotten away with the other huge and definitely-Charlie's-business secret he was keeping. This whole time, Arthur and John knew what that meant. This whole time, Charlie has confessed more than he knew by alluding to being there.
Re: what lies beneath
Charlie looks at Arthur, curled there as if he would rather be anywhere else on or out of Earth. Then, one-handed, he pulls the rocking-chair in front of the couch so that he can sit directly facing him. He leans forwards: feet flat on the floor, forearms on his knees, fingers laced.
She's dead. He puts it on a shelf, next to her father and mother, and others. A whole lot of others. Time doesn't stop for him to wallow in that.
"And Michael Faust," he says, "in the prison pits."
Just in case Arthur thought he'd gotten away with the other huge and definitely-Charlie's-business secret he was keeping. This whole time, Arthur and John knew what that meant. This whole time, Charlie has confessed more than he knew by alluding to being there.
A curious eyebrow.
"You got his name."