“You know where to find me,” she says, heading back toward her office.
I take the back exit, and once outside, in case anyone’s watching, I bend over to let the “mouse” free in the bushes. I carry the box back in with Jenna still inside and dump her once again in my purse. “Stay,” I say. Rummaging inside my desk drawer, I find two caramel almond granola bars. When I violently toss one into my bag, I hear an “Ouch!” The wrapper starts rustling, and then there’s silence. “A few more hours of work and then we can head home.”
“You gotta stop talking to yourself. You may be scared at what answers back,” says my boss, suddenly in my doorway. He throws a stack of papers on my desk. “Next client. See ya.”
I browse the file, then search the internet for over an hour, trying to find out any information on a Ms. Carmela Johnson, an old, retired English teacher from Louisiana chosen by us for a special award. The search turns up nothing useful. Fortunately, there are just two requests: a fancy lunch and a well thought-out gift of some sort. Simple enough. A call to my contact, Demetri, at the new three-star restaurant, True, guarantees me a table for two when needed, and a guarantee from myself to call him when I’m bored one evening locks the deal completely. Of course, I’ll never be
that
bored.
I laugh when Jenna tells me how disgusting I am. “What would your boys think?” she says with righteousness and sarcasm.
“
My
boys
? I don’t think so.” I smile to myself.
When Jenna points to the clock, it knocks me out of my sinister, and very personal, thoughts. I get up to
leave. As I head toward Amber’s office, I find my boss still sitting in his chair, tapping away at his computer. “Staying late?” I ask.
He nods to me as his fingers fly over the keyboard, his face glued to the screen. “See ya,” he says.
As we approach Amber’s office, Jenna says, “You owe me a favor for making me hang out at your boring work all day. As always, I was the only excitement in anybody’s day.”
“Oh, I do?” I say. But it
was
boring...and she was indeed the excitement of the day.
I find Amber sitting in her chair, admiring the rooftop pool across from our building. “Shoul
d we crash that sometime?” I ask.
Startled, Amber jumps in her seat, grabbing at her stomach. I look to her hand, and she quickly removes it. “
Damn you Kailey!” she yelps. “You forget how to knock? You don’t return my calls, but you can barge in like you own the place.” Her hands move from folder to folder on her desk, and across the headlining page of today’s Chicago Tribune. It’s an article about a mysterious pack of mutant dogs on the loose. As I look at the paper, I say, “That’s some pretty scary stuff, ain’t it?”
“It is,” she says. “Wonder what the government
’s doing about it. It’s gotta be a hot roundtable topic, you think? Maybe summit-worthy?”
“Wow. Them
’s some big words for you. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard you say the g-word.”
She squints her eyes at me, angrily. “Russell and I do more than just fuck, Kailey.” My cheeks redden. “We have decent conversations. He actually respects my opinions, and thinks I have great ideas. Enough with the superiority complex.”
“What? No. I didn’t mean anything disrespectful. I’m just razzing you.” I say, sitting in one of her chairs, changing the topic of discussion. “What can I do for you before the wedding? You know we never even had a bachelorette party! I’ve been so busy with stupid crap that I haven’t even checked in with you. I sincerely apologize. Nice best friend I am.” I give her my ashamed face. “Want to go out tonight maybe, just for a little bite to eat and a stripper or two?” I say, enthusiastically, with a smile plastered on my face.
“Yes, you
have
been missing in action. What’ve you been doing?” I just stare at her, speechless, and she adds, “Nevermind. That’s your business. Honestly, your offer sounds so tempting,” she says, “but I don’t think I’m up to it.” Her face is not enthused, and she looks exhausted. “I’ve got to save up my energy. It’s my big day.” I sit and look Amber over, noticing a difference in her—both in her looks, and her attitude. She has seemingly matured and in my absence, has grown into a responsible woman, in so short of an amount of time.
“Well, just promise to put some time away after the wedding for me so we can hang out again. I miss you.” I say. “We can catch up, maybe share new secrets?” I hesitate, giving her an in to blab about her pregnancy, but she ignores it. “It seems that our lives have gotten so busy lately,” I say. “You
’re my best friend, Amber, I’m not letting you go away once you get married and all.”
She laughs playfully and grabs my hand. “You always know how to make me laugh,” she says. “Now you go home and get some beauty rest for tomorrow. You surely need it.”
“Bitch.”
“Tramp.”
From there, Jenna and I head out. As we ride the elevator down, she says, “How about we go shopping for an outfit for you? I looked in your closet, and you have nothing worth wearing to this wedding you speak of.”
Unfortunately, she
’s right. “I wish you were invited,” I say. “You’d be the life of the party!” I say this with true sincerity, and she nods.
We find an awesome boutique, and it doesn
’t take me long to find a dress that fits rather nicely: a lavender (one of only two colors that looks classy against my red hair), sleeveless, short-length number, with a plunging, yet classy, V-neck.
After she escapes my purse, I find Jenna biting the foot of a rather thin and pale mannequin. But she does find me the perfect jewelry: a long, sterling rod pendant with a beautifully-faceted amethyst gracing the bottom tip, adorning a delicate sterling chain, and matching earrings and bracelet.
We make it home after a long day and agree that a pizza and some TV is the perfect way to end it. Jenna does the honors of ordering, and I turn on WGN’s nine o’clock news as I change into my pajamas. I decide to keep it on for Jenna, so she can learn a little more about my realm.
The top story
is about the missing physicist and biologist. They show an outdated—from the looks of the polyester brown button-down he’s wearing—and unflattering picture of Dr. Martine with a pair of huge, nerdy glasses on his face.
Quickly deciding that that
’s enough news, I start flipping through the channels, finding something more interesting on PBS—something about butterflies.
Later, as I
’m about to call it a night, Jenna gets up and stands in front of me, looking anxious. “I was wondering if I can call on that favor now, before the evening is over,” she says. I don’t remember exactly agreeing to the favor, but I agree to hear her out, though my heart races a bit, fearful of what she may ask.
“Can we possibly do a little experiment in
volving this?” She holds up my smartphone.
My eyes widen a bit. “What kind of experiment? Am I going to need Bu to put it back together again?” I snatch back the phone.
“I hope not.”
As I start dialing, I tell her, “Just let me call Conner before we do our little ‘experiment.
’ Deal?”
“Okay.” I walk away into my bedroom for some privacy.
He answers after the first ring. “I will be wearing a lavender tie. Will it match?” he inquires.
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“You look good in lavender.” I can hear his smile as he speaks. “I went out and bought a present from their registry,” Conner says. “You don’t mind, do you? There was so much left on it. I kinda feel bad. Maybe they’ll get a windfall of cash from everyone else. I thought we could both go in on the gift, if you want? I got a card, too.” My amazement keeps me silent, except for the loud slap to my forehead. “Hello?” he says, checking to see if I’m still on the line.
“Sorry.” I say. “
I’ve had no time, so I was just gonna shove money in a card last minute. You, at least, put thought into the gift,” I say. “And, I’ll most graciously accept their thanks for a gift I’ve selfishly signed my name to. Ugh, how pathetic. She’s my best friend!”
“I
’ve already wrapped it too,” he says. My shoulders can’t slump any further. “You can sign the card when I pick you up. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll look ravishing.” He pauses a bit. “And I’ll definitely be asking you to pay up for your half.”
My cheeks redden a bit. “I
’ll make sure to clean up nicely for you. See you tomorrow.” I’m suddenly very nervous.
Jenna runs in and sits on my bed as I change into pajamas. “Let
’s check if it works.”
“Huh?”
“That,” she says, pointing to my smartphone. “I want to see if it works if I try calling you from Renhala,” she says with a mischievous grin that scares me.
“I don
’t think that it will. Anyway, G warned us about travelling.”
“But you don
’t know until we try. And who is Gunthreon to boss everyone around? Who knows what he’s really up to?” She watches my facial features. “And I’ll be back super quick!”
I feel reluctant to try, but she
’s right. I can read his energies, but I don’t know the details of his brain. He could very well be betraying us all, and we’re just going along for the ride, following in his wake.
“If you run off, I swear I will hunt you down and strangle you with your little holly necklace, so don
’t even think about it,” I warn. I point at her, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “Here.” I hand her my phone, then write down my apartment phone number and hand that to her. I don’t let go as she puts her hand on it. She smiles at me and disappears in an instant.
Slowly, I count to ten as I sit on my bed, staring at the spot she just disappeared from. “I have faith in you. Don
’t let me down.”
I sit by my apartment phone, waiting. After five minutes pass, I start pacing back and forth, back and forth. Kioto and Cheeto both know something is up, for they both avoid eye contact with me. A second befor
e I’m about to call my cell phone, Cheeto lets out a single yelp of pain. She stands up and slumps back down, yelping again. Kioto starts licking her face, and I know what’s about to happen.
“No no no! Not now, Cheeto. Damn! What do you need, girl?” The yelps soon turn to screams, then stop suddenly as she gets up and hides underneath my dining-room table. I try to crawl underneath with her, but she bares her deadly sharp teeth at me. “Sorry, girlfriend,” I say. My pacing starts up at freakish speed again as a pool of blood spreads out underneath Cheeto.
Why is there so much blood? It’s so dark—almost black.
I feel fear growing inside me, like a tumor, forcing me to retreat in what room is left inside. My thoughts return to the day of my assault.
My warm blood drips from my neck as the creature reaches out a hand, collecting a drop, and bringing it to his mouth. It smiles as—
Cheeto starts panting fast and heavy. I look to her and her pathetic little face. She needs me. I choose to wipe away the memories as I reach to her,—she who needs me—reaching for somewhere to grasp. I find it, and as I take hold, she turns and looks at me. Her breathing slows as I caress gently along her body, helping her complete her task. She allows me to continue as I gently caress her belly area. Her muscles contract, her body responding to the need. A pushing sensation from deep inside her has me adding my own energy—my strength, when suddenly Cheeto starts screaming again, and her eyes bulge. I retract my energy as I stand, helpless as she closes her eyes and trembles.
At the same moment I feel my energy heating up from fear, Kioto starts growling as Jenna appears, running at me full speed.
“Kailey, run!” she yells. “Bring us somewhere safe, and
now
!” Her hand still grips my phone, her voice weak as I bend down to her.
I hear a loud thump outside in my hallway, and we both stop and hold each other, staring at my front door. Kioto stands next to me, her hair on her back standing straight up. She moves to stand between the door and Jenna and I. I notice blood running down Jenna
’s arm, dripping onto my hand. As Jenna’s gaze meets mine, Cheeto screams in agony. I don’t know what to do.
“
Now
!” Jenna screams with all her might, directly in my face. Something takes over my body, and then I am somewhere hidden inside myself as my mouth screams a word in an unidentifiable, alien language. Jenna’s mouth drops, and we are transported—somewhere.
Chapter 51
Hidden
There is absolute silence.
Nothingness.
A change in consciousness.
A feeling of being watched.
The smell of mud, of earth.
The sensation of birth, of life, of love, of complete wholeness.
The sensation of pain, of desperation, of loss, of falling apart into a million pieces.
A voice as loud as a sonic boom breathes a simple word: “Continue.” It seems as though time stops.
Our sense of being arrives back in Abscondia, and we seem almost to step back in time. We stare as Cheeto’s second pup pops out. She lovingly licks off each newborn pup. Both sets of little eyes are already open to the world, staring at their mother.
Kioto stands, staring at me, but when I walk to her, she cowers in fear. I walk toward her, reaching out my hand, but she turns her head, only her eyes watching my every move. “What
’s wrong, girl?” She slinks away into my bedroom.
I turn to make sure Jenna is also witnessing this, and she shakes her head back and forth ever so slowly. She then looks at her hand. “Oops” slips from her tongue.
I look at her hand, and my anger brings me to my senses too quickly. “Damn it, Jenna!” My smartphone is gone. “You are so going to get me a new one. I don’t know how, but...” But I’m distracted. I try rolling over the strange place and strange feelings in my head, but they’re already fading, slowly becoming a lost experience. Within five minutes, no memory is left of our brief trip to wherever we went, and only a feeling of fright for Cheeto’s little babies remains.
“Jenna, what happened?” I ask.
“What was chasing you?”
“I was expecting to arrive in my forest, near my hangout, and I did, but wh
at was there was horrible,” Jenna wails. “It’s like they were waiting for me—and the trees! Poor Lamlut. Oh, poor thing! They burned him! There were grebles everywhere, and with them were these pet things they had on chains. I’ve never seen anything like them. I felt the fear of Velopa. I don’t know what they were doing there, but they saw me, and I came back as fast as I could. I think we’re safe here.”
“We need to call someone—my mom, no, Ladimer. No more travelling! Where
’s my phone?”
Jenna looks to her hand, then starts walking around, looking for it. “I don
’t know. I just had it! You sure you didn’t take it?”
“No, I didn
’t...I guess I’ll have to use my apartment phone while you look for my cell.”
The phone rings and rings, but there
’s no answer at Ladimer’s place. I try my mom and she, too, is unreachable, except for her ancient answering machine: “You’ve reached the machine. You know what to do.” It’s one of the many antiquities she loves.
With no other option, and the inability to shake the feeling that something is just not right, we hang out on the couch, not saying a word. I grab a biscuit for Kioto and try coaxing her from my bedroom, but she won
’t move from underneath my bed.
“Your aura is different, Kailey,” Jenna says, looking at the air around me.
“How?” I say.
“It
’s just
different.
Can’t pinpoint it, exactly.”
We make sure Cheeto has enough water and food under my table. I attempt to pet a pup, but Cheeto’s not keen on the idea, so we decide to let her have her mommy time with them. “Let
’s name them tomorrow,” I suggest to Jenna.
“Ugly and uglier.”
“I’ll keep trying to reach someone,” I say, as I call my mom and Ladimer again. No luck.
I pick up my new pendulum and cradle it as I continue my attempts to reach someone by phone. My last thought is that maybe I should call Conner, but I
’m too exhausted even to move an eyelid. Me and Jenna eventually fall asleep on my couch, hugging one another.
*********
When I open my eyes, the prairieland seems absolutely deserted. My pajamas blow in the dry wind as the swift smell of dried flowers travels up my nose, sending me back, to a time of holding onto my mom’s pant leg as she cruised through the local hobby shop’s floral department. It makes me smile.
It looks like death has planted itself here, but I know deep inside that this place is full of life—life hidden to the normal eye.
Why am I here
? The ground crunches underneath my feet, and I sit, examining the dirt beneath me. I let it run through my hand, and as it falls to the ground, each small piece grows legs and scurries away.
A panting noise from behind makes me grab my monk’s spade as I jump up and twirl around, striking the pose of a deadly ballerina. Three ceetchans sit before me—one momma and two tiny pups. The pups crawl to me and lap at my feet as Cheeto
watches. “Can I pet them?” I ask. She shows no resistance, so I bend down and pick them up in my arms, caressing their little heads and kissing them on their eyes.
Cheeto stands and turns in the opposite direction, walking away from me. She stops and looks at me as though I am to follow. I snuggle her pups in my arms and follow as Cheeto leads me to some kind of burrow a few yards away, tucked under a single tree. Her butt disappears as she enters the hole in the ground. “I really hope you don
’t expect me to fit in there,” she says. I wait for her to come out. Finally, her nose peeks out, and she waits for me to come face to face with her before she descends back down the hole. Her babies follow her willingly.
I can barely squeeze my shoulders through the hole, but then, almost like magic, the hole widens, and I fall hard into the dirt floor below. I look up, and the hole is tiny once mor
e. “Why, call me Alice,” I say, but as I stand looking up, I suddenly rock on my feet, losing my balance for a brief few seconds as an intense energy brushes past me. It swims around me, then dissipates.
Cheeto continues to walk down a long corridor of dirt and tree roots. I follow, eager to find what she has to show me. She rounds a corner.
“Oh, sweetie, come here and let me see your babies!” speaks a woman’s voice, speaking out from beyond the dirt wall. I freeze in my tracks. “They are
adorable
. Here, come drink some fresh water and lie down for a spell. The meek shall inherit the earth.” I tremble as the voice talks, wanting to bow in submission before her, yet fearing for my life. “I know you’re there, honey,” says the voice. “Why don’t you come and sit with us, too.”
I peek around the corner, and we both see each other. I proceed slowly and cautiously in her direction.
I know instantly whose presence I stand in.
An old, wrinkled face sits before me, with long, soft, gray braids wrapped with multi-colored feathers piled neatly behind her. She
’s an old black woman who looks like she’s led a hell of a hard life.
The room consists of Neda on a rocking chair, a small table—smoothly weathered from age with one, alabaster stone bowl atop it, and two copper-hinged cedar chests.
Neda rocks in her rocking chair made from the tree roots that descend from the earth above our heads. Her feet do not even reach the ground, but still she rocks, and it’s the roots themselves rocking her, slowly, as she sits with her hands busily knitting something in her lap.
I do what seemingly comes naturally these days, and reach my feeler to her, approaching with caution, but awe. As I am centimeters within her energy, she breathes in and smiles, then puts her arms out from her sides, as one does when being frisked. “Go ahead dearie. I will allow it this once.” She closes her eyes and I dive into her energy. I
t swoops me in and swirls my consciousness around and around. I taste warmth, sadness, coolness, calmness, frustration, happiness—an emotional cocktail if you will—everything, all at once. It sends my mind reeling and I withdraw my feeler, opening my eyes, and suddenly noticing I stand directly in front of her, within a foot.
She is so familiar to me, but I cannot place where I
’ve seen her. She spews love and comfort, compelling me to sit near her feet. As she drops her knitting needles to the ground near me, I gulp loudly, for they are clearly made from weathered bones. Whether human or not, I do not ask. But her hands are gentle as she caresses my hair, working it behind my ears. The tears flow from my eyes, and I cannot stop them, no matter how hard I try.
“It
’s all right. Let them flow. You’re safe here,” she says. “It’s hard, I know. You’re doing a fine job, girl.”
After my tears stop flowing, I look up into her eyes. “Neda?”
“I’m known by many a name. Call me what you will,” she responds. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
I shake my head no, but I’m partially lying.
Can one partially lie?
“Good. You know, my natural form is far more hideous than your deepest fears. I like this now—makes both me and you comfortable. Good choice, Kailey.”
My eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “My elemental form is far too boring. Stupid ball of light. Hmph.”
“What do I need to do?” It escapes my mouth without any thought on my part.
“My, my, you just jump right in, eh?” She giggles to herself and slides off her rocking chair. I stand and grab her hand as she wobbles over to the nearest table. “It is not my job to tell you what to do,” she says. “I will, however, share what I know with you, and how about you take it from there?” From the stone bowl—suddenly full—she hands me a small, round, bulbous thing, and takes one of the same. Quickly, she pops it into her mouth and chews. “Yum. Go ahead, I’m not going to poison you.” I smell it, then toss it in my mouth and chew. It’s actually very sweet and soft, and reminds me of candied sweet potatoes.
“That
is
yummy.”
“First off, we need to make an exchange. I sense something on you. If you give it to me, I will give you information. Deal?” she says, standing in front of me. My hand moves involuntarily and rises up slowly, letting the pendulum hang and twirl.
“Ah, I knew it! May I have it back?” I hand it over willingly and she puts it in her pocket and pats her pocket, apparently happy with herself. “You, as my child, as everything else living, know all,” she says. She walks back and slumps in her chair, smiling, looking at me as if that was it—the one answer for everything.
This time, I laugh. “What?”
“It talks to you, but your technology is too damn loud! Use that brain of yours! I mean it—use it. Use that whole area sitting there, being ignored, being brushed off like you’re crazy.” She points to my head. “How many times must you creatures be shown your own intelligence? Your own
potential
?” A sense of frustration seems to cover her face and I sneak in my feeler, but she swats at it and I actually feel it—like a slap to the face.
“Think of animals,” she says, “and how they seem to know before humans that an earthquake or tsunami is coming. They flee.
They
listen to this
!” She points to that same area of her head. “Tell me how many dead animals you see lying around that have
not
been killed by your technology, like your cars and trucks.” Her stare is intense. “They die on their own, hidden from sight, because they know when they are dying. Oh, and don’t even get me started on your ‘psychics’ and how they seem to know everything. They’re revealed images by their own minds, and they decipher them. They may come up with something ridiculous or far-fetched, but they’re revealed truth by their own brains, and they
pay attention
. And how about food cravings? Once again, your body is telling you what it needs. Stories of sudden strength? The ability to lift cars in times of need? Hon, I could go on and on, but I don’t think I need to. It’s making me tired. We have a guest anyway.”
She points behind me, and I see it coming before I feel anything. A deathman approaches, carrying a ball of light in its hands.
“Bring it here, peaches,” she advises. Before she makes it halfway to one of the cedar chests, another deathman appears. “Ugh. Kailey you’ve got to do something about this. Since my old friend disappeared, I’m getting them
all
! It’s making me just too damn tired. And hiding my energy is exhausting.”
“Your old friend? Disappeared?”
“Without darkness, how would we know light?” She stares at me. “Well, anyways, I truly don’t know what has happened, and I am fearful, for I don’t know how long anything will survive with the imbalance. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. It’s not fair.” The balls are handed to her, and she stands holding them with her eyes closed and slowly places both of them in one of the cedar chests. “How will we judge who wins?” The deathmen wave to her and head off from where they came.
I am totally perplexed. My anxiety starts bubbling slowly inside me. “T
his is some sort of game?” I grunt. “You’re jeopardizing lives for a stupid game? If you are who you say you are, why don’t you know the answers? How am I supposed to help? You created all this, so why the hell don’t you do something about it?!” I immediately cover my mouth with my hand, mortified.
Neda’s eyebrows rise slowly, and as she stares at me, her face contorts to one of the most gruesome things I have ever experienced. Combine every single horror film I have seen and every single nightmarish fireside story my ears have ever heard, and it is all unicorns and teddy bears compared to this. I slump to the ground and cover my head. I want to bury myself as far into the ground as possible. The image of her face is burned into my brain, becoming more horrific with every breath I take.