"I would appr-preciate that. I still have quite a few cabins to go."
Norman had always been anxious. Since he was a child, everything made him nervous. He was always running and hiding, doing his Mother's bidding. He could remember a few times as a young boy when she would yell and scream and scratch when she didn't get her way. And then she got older and meaner.
And then there was the tea.
He blinked, mind drifting back from wherever it went when he thought about how things used to be.
"I don't know if I can explain it. I was here and then I was back ... well, here. I mean, the motel and the house. But where it used to be. On the stretch of d-desert road. The one without the highway b-b-bypass. It was quiet and lonely."
Norman paused, trying to remember exactly how it happened. The environment hadn't changed so much for him. So at first he hadn't even noticed that he'd been gone from The City. And how did he get back?
"...I was picking up groceries from the town. Walking. By the time I walked back up to the house, The City had returned."
Talking about it seemed to calm him down a little, ease his anxiety.
"It's difficult to explain... But..."
And on this thought he paused. Thinking. Was it important? Hannibal would think so. And that's why Norman decided to admit it.
"Mother wasn't with me. I think she s-stayed here."