The Kaleidoscope (17 page)

Gus didn’t say anything.

“You like cats?” Pepper tried.

“Just get to the point.” Gus was allowing Glenda to rest her head in his lap. While he talked, her brown eyes searched his face. “Tell me who yer lookin’ for.” The bandana had slipped back, and his hair was an odd shade. A line ran down his part like a white stripe on a skunk’s back. A quiver jellied through Harold’s insides. The hair was growing out from a cheap dye job. Gus was in hiding.

All of a sudden, Harold couldn’t sit still, and he squirmed until his chair creaked under his weight. He tried to get Pepper’s attention, to telegraph they needed to get out, and quick, but she just regarded him through hooded eyes as if he was a restless child. She shook her head when he thumbed toward the door.

“We’re helping Morrie find his only remaining family.” She began describing the details. Gus rubbed Glenda’s head until her eyes closed, trancelike.

Harold mentally measured how many steps it would take to grab Pepper’s hand, call Glenda to heel, and run for the car. Morrie would have to be on his own. Harold had never seen him run, but he hoped he was as spry as he was wiry.

“Anyway, the last known person to ever see Joseph told us he worked for a season in Yosemite Park.” Pepper chatted as if they were at an afternoon tea party. “Now he’s hiking the trail, we believe.”

Gus nodded as if that was something he was used to. “Got any pictures?”

Morrie moved into action, startling Glenda, who sighed and lay down at Gus’s feet. He pulled out the snapshot Harold had seen so many times he knew it by heart. A smiling Morrie stood next to a sullen younger man in front of a brick wall. The picture quality was poor, their features hard to distinguish.

Gus held the picture at arm’s length, and fished in a pocket of his flannel shirt, drawing out a pair of bifocals that, when perched on his nose, made him appear to be Santa’s mountain twin. “Sure, I seen him.” His bearded chin moved up and down as he worked his jaw. “Looks like about a dozen guys, and a couple of the girls I seen.”

Harold laughed politely at his attempt at a joke and decided it was a good time to exit while they were still on good terms. “Well, I guess we better be going.”

“No need to be rude, Harry.” Pepper motioned at his glass. “Drink your tea.”

Harold watched something floating in the glass while she explained how important it was to Morrie they find his cousin.

Gus handed the picture back to Morrie, whose grin closed back over the gap in his molars. A stray hair from his mutton chop curled into his ear. Gus regarded Morrie for an extra second or two.

“I don’t know. He coulda been here. Hard to tell. So many people in and outta here. Usually don’t talk much, and they always give a nickname.” His fingers made a scratching sound through days-old beard, his steely focus trained on Morrie. “Most people come out looking different after they been on the trail a while. The guys let their hair grow, so they have beards by the time I see ’em. It’s easier up here. Water’s heavy to carry, and usually too cold for shavin’.”

Gus removed his cheaters and rubbed his eyes. “Ever think maybe he don’t want to be found? Know what I’m driving at? He’ll come down when he’s good and ready. If he’s ever ready. Best not to get involved in something you don’t know nothin’ about.” He waggled the glasses at them before plopping them back on his nose. He’d addressed them all, but kept his focus on Harold.

Morrie’s chair legs whined as he shoved back. “Sorry to have disturbed you. Harold’s right, we should be going.”

Relieved, Harold stood as well, this time more determined. His fingers turned the ’scope in his pocket. It was warming up.

“You have no business bein’ up here.” Again, he gazed directly at Harold. “And be careful who you associate with. You never know just who you can trust. I strongly suggest you go back where you belong.”

“Now see here, mister. Gus.” Something had triggered in Morrie, who visibly struggled to keep himself drawn up to his full, albeit diminutive height. “If you must know my cousin has some information that I need, and if you’ve seen him, I think you should say so.”

Harold watched Gus loom over his friend.
Bad idea, Morrie
! The air sizzled between them, and his diminutive friend wouldn’t stand a chance if anything started.

But it was Pepper who intervened, one palm on Gus’s chest, the other outstretched to Morrie. “He didn’t mean anything, Gus, really he didn’t. We’ll get going now.”

Harold had to remove the Kaleidoscope from his pocket because the metal was so hot his thigh burned. He switched it from hand to hand while it cooled.

“Whatcha got there, a gun?” Gus started for him, but when he saw what Harold pulled from his pocket, he froze. “Oh.” All the air escaped his lungs in a foul whoosh.

“Show him, Harry.” Pepper nudged him.

The mountain man had gone pale.

“Ever see one of those? Beautiful, isn’t it?” Morrie squeaked from behind Harold.

“It has messages,” Pepper added.

“It what?” Gus reached for the Kaleidoscope, but Harold held it far enough away he couldn’t easily take it from him.

They needed to leave, and soon, and Harold knew that as soon as Gus, or whatever his name was, looked in it, they’d be here for a long time. Or trapped here forever if he didn’t like what he saw.

But Pepper was immune to the dangers Harold sensed. “We all see something different,” she chirped. “I learned to embrace life. Our friend reunited with his parents because of it.”

“What did
you
see?” Gus demanded of Harold in a voice too loud for the small room. All of a sudden, something about him seemed familiar. “What? What did it show you?” he roared, and Harold summoned strength from within to make steady eye contact. Gus’s sea green eyes were red-rimmed, his cheeks rough and weathered.

“I—I—” Harold fumbled for a response despite his newfound bravado.

“You three some kind of nutty cult? Git yer crunchy granola selves outta here and leave me be. Ain’t no such thing as a magical—”

“We aren’t here to hurt you, sir, and I protest your rudeness!” Pepper scolded him, finger wagging under his grizzly chin. Crumbly detritus clung to the wiry mess.

Eyes aflame, Gus grabbed for the ’scope, but Harold reared back, almost clocking Morrie, who reached up and took it from him.

Glenda barked, jumping up on Gus’s legs to protect her mistress, and Pepper yanked the ’scope away from Morrie and gave it to Gus. “See for yourself!”

Harold held his breath.

Gus turned the Kaleidoscope over, fingering along the shaft. He cut a quick glance at them, lingered on Harold’s face, then lifted the device and sighted in it. “I don’t see anything special about it.” He dropped it to examine every inch, returning it to his eye once again. “You people been smoking weed, there’s nothing magical about this.” He started to slip it in his pocket.

“That’s not yours, sir.” Pepper tried to reach for it, but Gus pushed her away as if she was a pesky gnat. “This device does so have special powers,” she insisted. “Harold has already registered it with the National Association of Metaphysical Objects, so don’t even think of trying to steal it from us. Right, Harry?”

Harold blinked at her and wondered where she came up with this stuff. He reached out to steady her as she had suddenly gone wobbly. “You okay?”

“I knew it. You people
are
crazy.” Gus squinted at each one in turn, and Harold considered maybe that would be a good impression to leave him with. Gus turned to Morrie. “And what do you have to do with all this? Don’t give me the looking for a long-lost cousin baloney. I can tell a liar.”

“We have been nothing but honest with you, Mr. Gus. Morrie
is
searching for his cousin, and Harold’s Kaleidoscope guided us here. That’s the truth. Perhaps you’re the one that is lying.” Pepper tugged Glenda’s leash, and the dog planted herself between them.

Now she’d done it. Harold just wanted to get the ’scope back so they could escape in one piece.

“Now return my friend’s Kaleidoscope, and we will be on our way.” Pepper pulled away from Harold’s protective hand and drew herself up.

Gus held out the Kaleidoscope, but he held it so tight Harold had to yank on it, and Gus forced Harold forward, so close Harold could smell peanut butter and coffee on the man’s breath.

“You should put this in a safety deposit box. Someplace safe.” The mountain man’s eyes held an intensity that reached inside Harold’s soul and rattled something latent, something almost forgotten.

“We need to go. Now.” Harold yanked back, loosening the man’s grip. He wasn’t taking no for an answer this time. “Pepper?” He checked behind him.

Instead of following him to the door, though, she dropped onto the couch, head in her hands. Harold recognized the signs and hurried to kneel in front of her. “You got anything she can eat? Maybe fruit juice of some kind?” Her cheek had grown clammy, her brow glistened.

Gus stood motionless. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Low blood sugar, she needs something to eat. Hurry!” Harold didn’t feel the need to explain Pepper’s physiological challenges. “Or maybe call 9-1-1.”

“No!” Pepper protested. “I’ll be all right.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Morrie asked.

“The chemo threw off her blood chemistry. It’s my fault, I never should have agreed to this trip.” Harold wanted to desperately to see her smile at him. Anything to show she was feeling back to normal.

Gus spoke from behind him. “How about a power bar?” He hurried over to the kitchen cabinets and shifted tin cans and boxes around. He came back and tossed a foil-wrapped granola bar into Pepper’s lap. Harold opened it and helped her take a bite, waiting for her expression to improve, her eyes to brighten again.

Just then, noises outside prompted Glenda to a low woof.

“Who’s that?” Gus said as if they knew. “Someone else with you?”

Morrie peeked through soiled gingham curtains, circa 1950. “Just some hikers.”

Gus went outside, and Harold urged Pepper to hurry and eat so they could leave.

“I need a minute.” Her eyes had rolled back in her head, and she sagged into the couch.

They could hear Gus speaking with someone outside.

Pepper pushed Harold away. “I have to use the bathroom.” She handed him the uneaten food, and Harold helped her up. He sat down and rewrapped the bar while she crossed over to the closed door. As she stepped through, the screen door creaked back.

“Stay out of there!” Gus bellowed. The veins popped from under his grizzle.

Harold, who had been perched on the edge of a tattered recliner, almost fell over backward. “She just needs to use the ladies’ room.” Something in Gus had released a primitive rage.

Gus raced over and yanked her back from the room she’d stepped into. He spun her around and shoved her toward the front door.

“Get out of here, now!” Gus hollered at them, pointing into the yard. Glenda sprang toward him, and he shoved her roughly through with the tip of his boot. She squealed in protest.

Morrie ducked under Gus’s outstretched arm. “Let’s go!” He clattered across the porch.

Harold wasn’t about to be bullied into letting Pepper fall. The Kaleidoscope was important to him, but this woman was becoming his world.

“Git off my property now, alla-you!” Gus exploded, posturing chest-to-chest against Harold.

“Hurry!” Morrie stood at the bottom of the steps, gesturing wildly.

Harold let go of Pepper’s arm and placed himself between the madman and her frail body. He urged her out the door in front of him toward Morrie. All the while, Glenda barked, biting at the madman’s ankles, growling through her teeth as she clamped onto his dungarees.

“Sit!” Gus commanded, but this time she ignored him. He lifted his leg, and with it, the dog, who hung on, dangling. Before he could swing wide and flick her off, Harold pulled her loose. The fabric ripped, and he tossed the dog to Morrie at the bottom of the steps, who caught her.

Then Harold cocked an arm to swing an upper cut at Gus’s jaw, but the older man was quicker, and Harold caught a punch to the shoulder that hurled him backward. His skull exploded in piercing pain as it struck the doorjamb. Harold dropped to the filthy floor, dizzy and stunned.

Chapter Fourteen

“You heard me, git out!” Gus towered over Harold, but Glenda snarled, charging straight for his now exposed leg. Lips back, teeth bared, she tried to clamp on again. “Stop it, you mangy cur!” Gus glared at the dog, and Harold grabbed for his foot so he couldn’t kick her as she bounced around, yipping high-pitched warnings. He’d placed himself directly in the line of fire, and took the brunt of Gus’ bootkick to his own side in a sickening crack.

“Oof!”

Glenda ran to Pepper, who was screaming to her from the yard.

Morrie appeared at Harold’s elbow and jerked him to his feet, but Harold’s knees wouldn’t comply. The pain scourged through Harold as Morrie maneuvered him so Harold’s arm was over his shoulder, and he wedged his stout body as a human crutch to hurry him across the porch and down the step.

Pepper encircled his waist from the other side, and they passed the garbage fortress, behind which the man still shouted warnings, a rat in sewage of his own making.

Harold stumbled in the ill-fitting flip-flops as he tried to keep their pace and lost one in the high weeds, wincing as something bit into his tender sole. Pepper let go and ran back for the shoe. When she lifted his leg to put it back on, jolts from the rib-blow zinged through his body until he almost passed out. The dog circled them, a satellite orbiting the galaxy of pain and confusion of Harold’s world.

“Glenda, car!” Pepper commanded, and the dog bounded into the backseat with Morrie.

Harold slumped into the front seat, still unable to fill his lungs.

Across the yard, Gus filled the doorway. “Git yer danged selves out of my sight afore I kill you all and feed you to the bears!” He fired a shot into the fir trees.

Pepper started the car and jammed it into reverse. The car fishtailed until the tires spun in the loose dirt, then found purchase, and they bumped and jolted out of the clearing. Harold fell sideways against the door, gasping and squinting from his good eye. Through the blur, he saw a 1978 Chrysler LeBaron peeking from underneath a torn tarp. He wiped at his cheek, warm liquid oozing down his arm, and a blanket of darkness settled over him.