Mundahlia (The Mundahlian Era, #1) (24 page)

We were inside a quaint Mexican restaurant near a small shopping district in the middle of Austin—Del’s choice—and seated next to an aquarium full of various saltwater fish. Typical ranchero music was spilling from the speakers, and the whole interior of the building was decorated with traditional Mexican-styled items. A chunky man with a mustache placed menus in front of us and took our drink orders, giving us time to look over the menu. When he returned, he brought along tortilla chips with salsa and a cheese sauce.

“What will you ladies have?” he asked.

“I’ll have the cheese enchiladas,” I said.

“
Que rico!
” he said, “That’s our
eh-
specialty.
Y para usted
?—
eh,
for you Miss?” he asked looking at Del.

“
A mi me das el mismo, por favor
.”

“
Que si!
” the waiter smiled, and walked to the computer to enter our order.

“What did you order?” I asked, sipping my tea.

“The same thing you did.”

“Ah, let’s see. I met Mark here in Austin while I was attending the university back in eighty-six. He was a cook at a small indie restaurant that closed down a few years ago. I used to go there everyday. It was good food, close to the dorms on campus, and cheap—and since I barely had enough money saved up to pay for my college and the barest essentials, it became a regular for me. The owner would even give me a discount since I went there nearly everyday. He was a nice man. Gave Mark a job without asking why he didn’t have a birth certificate or social security, or even driver’s license.”

I laughed and heard her continue, sipping my tea slowly.

“Well, one night, I was eating something—I think it was just fries and gravy since that was all I could afford that particular day, even
with
the discount. I asked one of the servers if they could go get me some salt because the gravy tasted a little bland, and a couple of minutes and sounds of shuffling pans and curse words later, he came out of the kitchen. Dressed in an apron, and looking ticked—muscles flexing, ready to throw down—as he searched for my table number.

“
‘You got a problem with the gravy?’
He said to me. Tapping me on the shoulder.” Del used a deep voice to mimic what Mark had told her. “At first I was like, uh, and
this
guy? But then when he came around and saw me, his whole expression changed. He went quiet.
‘Matter of fact, I do’
I told him,
‘there isn’t enough salt in it and I just want a little more so that I can eat my fries with gravy and not just tasteless goop,’”
Del laughed to herself for a bit. “He
hates
people criticizing his cooking, but he went back into the kitchen and brought out the whole can of salt and set it on the table.”

“
‘There!’
he told me.
‘Have as much salt as you want!’
The next day, he brought out my food himself and made me taste it first to make sure it was to my liking. A week after that, he asked me out. Long golden hair in a ponytail and all.”

“Aww,” I gushed.

“Yeah. He was so handsome then—I wonder what happened.” Del laughed.

I scanned my phone for a brief second. No reply.

“Jett’s head-over-heels for you, Rini.” Del said, as though she’d read my thoughts.

“Huh?” I tried to act inconspicuous, but dropped it once she gave me a raised brow. “Really?” I said instead.

“Oh
please
!” she snorted. “The boy just hears your name and his penis starts wagging.” She used her index finger to demonstrate and I burst with laughter.

“But, why though?” I said, once I had caught my breath instead of the awkward
panting-in-between
chuckles.

“Why what?”

“I mean, why is he ‘head-over-heels’ for me? I’m not better than anyone else, or any different than any other girl. I haven’t done anything special. Let’s face it, he’s a hot guy and I’m just-”

“Gorgeous,” she inserted, then held up a hand for me to stop when I tried to continue. “And, let me tell you something else Rini. You
aren’t
like anyone else. Sure there are tons and tons of girls who read books, or girls that have curves like you or me, but there is only one
you
. No one out there is exactly like you. Your personality is a key thing. Your nice, but at the same time, you can take down anyone if it came to it. You defend yourself and don’t let anyone trample over you. I like that about you, it reminds me of me. Jett sees that too—that confidence. He sees beyond your outside and looks within you, to the person inside. He likes you for many reasons. Reasons even
he
may not know why.” She picked up a tortilla chip and pointed to the yellow cup of cheese next to me, “Now
shh!
and pass the
queso
.”

“Excuse me, ladies,” A man yielding a basket of small pies said. “Would you like a free pie?”

“No thanks,” Del said, shooing him away.

The man gave a short nod and gandered over to me, “How about you? I’ve got pineapple, peach—
apple
?” He held out the mini-pie to me. “Come on, babe. Just one bite and I
promise
—you’ll be in heaven,” he said with a smile. I couldn’t help but hear the hidden wink in his voice.

“No. Thank you, though” I declined.

He left after a while of ogling at both of us.

“What a crock,” Del said. “Good for you. You can never trust free food from a stranger. You never know if it’s poisoned or not.”

A few minutes later the waiter brought our food out. The enchiladas—rolled up corn tortillas—oozed with golden cheesy goodness and a colorful creamy red sauce. There were also beans and orange rice on the plate, but I ignored them, they weren’t as masterful as the colors going on in the main dish. He set a small blue container of flour tortillas on the table and went on to greet more guests.

We wasted no time digging into the tempting food.

“Mmm!” Del said, licking the fork.

“What?”

“It’s been forever since I’ve eaten Mexican food!”

“Doesn’t Mark cook Mexican food sometimes?”

“Nope,” she said. “But he will now.”

I waited outside as Del paid the bill—her treat. I insisted on paying, but she just scolded me and shoved the money back into my purse, warning me that if I tried to pay again, she’d shove it down my throat. I checked my phone. Still no response from Jett, so I sent another text.

You
(1:03pm):
Jett?

My phone rang in my hands.
It’s probably him!
“Hello?” I snatched it open within the second ring.

“Hey bestie!” Sarah burst into the phone, causing me to move it a few inches away from my ringing ear. For a moment, my heart broke. It wasn’t him. Either way, it was nice to hear from Sarah.

“What’s up?” I said, just a little disappointed.

“Taking my break at work.
In other news
,” Sarah continued, mimicking a news anchor. “Guess who’s gone missing?”

“Who?”

“Vera Hill. It’s all over the news. She’s been missing for like two days.”

“Whoa.”

“I know! I overheard a couple here at the restaurant saying that she probably ran away with a boy.”

Running away with a boy? Yep, that sounds like something stupid she would do. “Well, whatever it is, I’m sure she’s just trying to cause a scene and get attention.” I thought about the body in the forest that the Mundahlian was eating. It looked feminine, but could it have been her?—Nah!

“True. It’s what she does best after all,” Sarah said. There was a loud clash of what seemed like dishes breaking on the other end. A man in the background yelled a curse word. “Ugh! Sorry Rini, my dad just dropped a crap load of dishes on the floor and I have to help clean it up, but I’ll text you later! Bye!”
Click.

Jett

22

“So I hear you got a girlfriend,” Nicolas said. Holding out a plastic cup of coffee for me. He looked up with a confused smile when I didn’t answer him. “The human.”

We had met him and his clan halfway at a small diner off the interstate. They’d found the girl last night. Wandering around the woods, alone—afraid. The rest were still interrogating Vienna as though she were a murder suspect and this was a scene out of a drama movie. She was a sweet girl—attractive and well-educated. A smile so sweet, and eyes like sapphire. Her hair was dark, almost similar to Rini’s, except her’s didn’t quite grasp the seductive gentle curl that Rini so perfectly donned on a daily base. She looked terrified, surrounded by all those people asking her questions at the same time at a booth in the back. However, when she caught sight of me, she flashed a smile and waved. Perfect teeth, that’s what I noticed.

“Yeah, I do.” I said, suddenly remembering he was asking about Rini. I had seen both her text but I was too busy to respond. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. I took the cup and tipped it to him, “Thanks.”

“Ah, wasn’t my idea. The girl wanted to buy us a cup while we waited.” He pointed over to Vienna. “It’s a nice gesture,” he said, then sipped. “She said you’d like that one better since it’s already sweetened.”

“Oh,” I said, looking over to the girl. I raised the cup and nodded once she caught my gaze another time. She smiled again and then went back to answering a question.

“What’s your girlfriend’s name?” Nicolas shook a hand through his lengthy curly golden hair that resembled a small mane, and leant over the banister I was propped up against. He looked like the Mundahlian clan member he belonged to, in simple terms—a lion. He took his own cup of coffee to his lips, surrounded by a well-groomed goatee that matched his hair color. We were both facing the group from a distance, watching their interrogation.

“Rini,” I said.

“Nice name. What’s she like, sport?” I could tell he was just as uninterested in the interrogation as I was.

I paused for an unknown reason. “Friendly, thoughtful—sweet. She has the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen. Her smile alone is infectious for me, and her personality is just, indescribable. She makes me feel like I’ve never felt before, you know? For once I feel—complete.”

“Well, if it’s anything that I know—it’s that, if you feel that she is perfect, then you have to try your best not to let her go. Love is a beautiful thing, Jett. You have to hold on to it, because as long as you have love for someone and they love you back—” his eyes trailed to Martin, off in the distance, sitting grumpily in the booth. “You can never truly have a bad day.” Nicolas was definitely the
pants-wearer
in the
secretive
yet totally obvious relationship with Martin that’s been going on since I was small back in Mundahlia. Sure at home Martin is a hard-ass, but as soon as Nicolas is in his presence he becomes a big softy. But Nicolas’ story doesn’t come as easy. He too has shared the pain.

The lion and panther clan islands were right next to ours back in Mundahlia. Growing up, Martin always referred to Nicolas as his
special friend
, when he came to visit. He would bring his two children along, a boy and a girl, to play with Mark and I. Unfortunately, his children were taken and supposedly killed—they never found the bodies, but with the King, the worst is always correct—some years later by one of the King’s men, causing him to go raving mad and attempt to kill the King that very night. Martin told him—begged him not to go, and he didn’t. Because, he couldn’t bare losing him too. Martin became his everything after that. He even left our clan to go live with Nicolas for a while. Until, one gloomy night, from within the fog, Fredrick, Nina, and Vicktor—newly orphaned panthers, ventured onto grieving Nicolas’ lonesome island, in search of food and shelter. They were the last of their dying clan, and were running away from the huntsmen who’d set out to find them and kill off their kind for good. Nicolas had no problem taking them in, lying to the hunters when they’d ask if he’d seen them. He had a thought in his mind that he’d raised them as his own, but even so, they could never replace the children he lost. At that time, Nicolas tried desperately to love these new little faces, praying everyday that instead of “Nick” they’d call him “Papa”, just to be able to hear that word again. The word he cherished so. The very word he knew as he watched the King’s men break down the door and drag his children away—changing his life forever—that he would never hear again.

When we came to Texas, Martin wanted to build a whole set of cabins—all surrounding the lake, to make our own little settlement of Mundahlian refugees. Of course, he wanted Nicolas and his clan’s cabin to be next to ours. The plans were never fulfilled, and so they had to end up living with a human couple that passed not too long ago. Old friends that Nicolas had met back in the Sixties in another state that had moved to Texas as well. A middle-aged hippie couple that lived in a small home and thought that Mundahlians were “cool cats” and “groovy” beings. The only other humans besides Rini to know of our secret. I’d only seen them once in the late eighties when they were already older and gray. Martin told us a few years back that they recently passed. Nicolas took it hard, and for a while, Martin disappeared. Staying with him to comfort him for a while—again. But, like the other time, he returned once things were settled.

“Nick, maybe we should go for a walk?” Martin came over, he seemed bored or irritated for some reason. “You know, to talk about this newcomer—
alone
.” Clearly a lie.

“Oh, sure.” He followed Martin out of the building, like a businessman heading outside to have a meeting with another businessman. Although. I could have sworn that just before the door closed behind them, their hands intertwined. In Mundahlia, there are no prejudices or hate, like there are here. Some humans let some things play way too much of a role in there daily lives and they end up losing sight of what’s really important—the things that make you happy. I’m not saying Mundahlia is perfect—seriously, we have a power hungry cannibalistic royal family ruling. But I mean, as long as a person is productive in their society, then what does it matter who or what they are? Right?