After about an hour of silence where Roland's mother put away the gold coin bearing his image, she began to rummage through the rest of his truck. She emptied his glove compartment, went through his tape collection, rifled through the seat consol, looked in his mini-fridge, and even searched underneath the seat cushions. When she was done, in addition to the mess, she had a small pile of what could only be called 'stuff,' on her lap.
"What," ask Roland slowly with some irritation creeping into his voice, "are you doing?"
"Learning about my son."
She held up an audiocassette and began reading;
"The Lords of Shadow..."
She arched an eyebrow as she opened it up and began reading song titles,
"I am the Shadow... Sweet Amber... The Defender..."
She continued to read the cover,
"My, now this is interesting... Drums: Rollo Ambersin... I take it back. THAT is the worst name you could have used. Ralph is pure genius by comparison. That also makes TWO drummers in the family. First Random, now you..."
She contemptuously throws the tape towards the dashboard. But, without taking his eyes off the road, Roland's hand flashed forward and grabbed the tape before it landed. He folded it all together and placed back with his other cassettes. His mother did not seem to notice as she was rifling through the papers on her lap and muttering.
"You are quite wealthy... UNLV School of Engineering... Nice diploma... Semper Fie... Sketches of scantily clad women... Say, that looks like Flora... EMT Certificate..."
Unceremoniously, she dumps everything onto the floor of the cab and pulls her legs underneath her. She stares at her son as she taps her teeth.
"OK, so you have not been completely wasting your time and you have been sneaking out of the wilderness and doing some shadow hopping underneath Julian's nose. Since not all that stuff is from this shadow. Still, it's pretty trivial compared to that ax you have hanging in the gun rack behind your head."
Roland favored her with one of his rare smiles.
"Where did you get that, Roland?"
She was now sitting backwards in the seat studying the weapon but not touching it.
"It is Real. More than the stuff of Shadow," she started as she analyzed it, "Although it is clearly made of two different materials... a wooden shaft for the handle and an unidentifiable metal for the head... it is actually one single piece."
She studied the ax head for a minute.
"On one side of the ax head is a stylized etching of the Rampant Unicorn. The symbol of Amber but I detect no direct Pattern signature about it. By looking at the reflection in the glass I can see what looks to be a tree carved in the other. This is an item of Power, Roland, where did you get it?"
He did not answer immediately. He was lost in memories. The day that Ygg gifted him with the wood. After carrying that stick for what felt like years, his hands rubbing it smooth as they got used to each other, finally finding the Shadow where the metal he desired dwelt. Living metal of unparalleled hardness and durability. Then taking it back to Amber and, at the summit of Kovir, spending seven days and seven nights combining knowledge, blood, sweat, skill, and strength to forge the weapon of his desire. Y'Geseth, Daughter of Ygg and the Universe was born.
Roland slowly turned to face his mother.
"I made it."
"Expansive as usual," she stated in an exasperating tone. She pursed her lips and squinted at Roland thoughtfully. The effect is that her entire face seems pinched. She was obviously unhappy but not at him, for a change. She had seriously underestimated him and he could almost hear her re-evaluating him. The ax was a thing of power. Maybe not to the extent of Corwin's famed sword but high enough on the list to place a few dents in Julian's armor. That thought always made him happy...
"So, now that you have proved your worth are you going to spend the rest of your life as a truck driver?"
"I have nothing to prove," he answered stoically, "but, after this trip, I feel a strong desire to return home."
"That's something anyway," she responded evenly but Roland thought he detected a hint of relief. Did she want he safely back under Julian's partially watchful eye or did she simply want him gone from this place? His thoughts jumped to his frequent sightings of Flora here and then someone who looked remarkably a lot like Eric at a high-class pub in Manhattan. Roland decided that he did not care and thought of the lush foliage of Evermoor. Time to go home. After a few moments she spoke again.
"What are you carrying, anyway?"
"Plastic pink flamingos."