I followed the man.
“Who’s the Captain?”
“Can’t tell ya of course.”
“I know this is the refugee camp, would you just tell me already!”
The man looked taken aback.
“Refugee camp…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, bull. You know what I’m talking about. The refugee camp that my heros were going to take me to, before they were eaten alive by Oscar.”
“How do you-” he stopped short.
“I know things. Now, who is the Captain?”
“Phillipe III? That’s impossible…he’s dead.” I said aghast. Was I STILL dreaming?
“No, no…that’s only what he wanted you to believe, what he wanted Oscar to believe.”
“So…you’re telling me that all this time, while so many people have given up hope because Phillipe was ‘dead,’ he was here??” I yelled incredulously, my temper rising.