Page 14 of Demons Dig Donuts

“Indy.”

“Ah, right. You’ve got a whip, good man yerself. And that big green fella?”

The leshy was here too, curiously peering at the books. He turned to peek at them over his shoulder and then waved.

“I guess he’s not much of a talker.” Indy went for the windows next.

Outside was nothing but a thick forest.

Great.

Probably a stupid pocket dimension or something, which meant Indy wouldn’t be able to escape. Even if he could get out of the house, he had no way of teleporting back to the city from here on his own.

“Do you know where we are?” Indy asked King.

“In a house,” King replied.

“No, I mean this is some kind of other world, right? Another dimension or something?” Indy waved around them as he headed to the couch. “We’re not in Somersville, that’s for sure. Can’t seem to leave, so?”

“It is… a house.” King seemed to frown. “You a bit slow in the head?”

“Just forget it.” Indy flopped face-first into the couch and groaned loudly. “Oh my God, I want to die. I am trapped with no cell phone, no drugs, no nothing. This is stupid.” He wailed in frustration and smothered his face into the cushions, screaming muffled obscenities.

The leshy must have thought the couch was going to eat him or something because he was suddenly there and lifting Indy up, shaking him worriedly.

“Whoa, whoa!” Indy spun over on his back, holding out his hands. “Hey! I’m fine. Easy now, baby. See?” He gestured toward his smiling face. “Totally fine!”

The leshy huffed.

He did not appear certain, casting a wary look toward King.

King stared right back. “Howeyeh!”

“Hey, you can have a seat. And also, yeah, you can let go of me.” Indy lightly patted the leshy’s arm. “Relax a little. Chill. I don’t think the skull is gonna hurt me.”

The leshy frowned deeply as he withdrew.

“It’s all right, babe. Promise.” Indy chuckled. “You, uh, got a name?”

The leshy cocked his head and pointed at himself with a questioning look.

“Yes, you. I’m Indy.” Indy tapped his chest. “Indy.” He gestured toward the leshy. “And you are?”

The leshy shook his head.

“Can you not speak?”

The leshy pouted. “Grow.”

It was the single saddest grow Indy had ever heard in his entire life.

“No big deal! It’s all right. Okay, so, uh. Let’s not worry about growing right now, and uh, let’s come up with a name.” Indy hummed. “How about Jolly? Or Vlasic?”

The leshy pouted harder, his shoulders sagging.

“Sorry, babe, but we’ve gotta call you something. Mount Olive? Ollie? Grillo? Hmm.” Indy sighed. “Running out of pickle brands...”

“What about Dill?” King suggested cheerfully. “Is that a brand?”