We’d agreed to sleep in, and Victor insisted on taking the first one. He wanted me to sleep, but the three hours I had my eyes clamped shut weren’t what one would call sleep. Even if I hadn’t been waiting for unknown horrors to permeate my body, the less than luxurious sleeping position would have affected any attempt at sleep; instead of one flowing blanket, I had the ends of more than two dozen business suits tickling my torso. The nonconforming nature of the itchy pseudo blanket required I remain motionless to experience the benefits of its love (which left a lot to be desired).
My turn to pretend to be dead to the world had passed. Victor had done a better job sleeping than I had; he might’ve actually been dreaming. Not sure what to think, I let Victor’s right hand continue to relax in mine. He’d laid on his left elbow and approximately twenty-minutes after closing his eyes, he felt around for my hand and his palm hugged mine. When he did that, I watched him curiously. Either he was experienced at feigning sleep or he was almost there for real.
Sitting cross-legged, surrounded by mobile metal skeletons with dusty cotton skin, I watched for any signs of movement. For a long while, organic movement was nonexistent in my field of vision, as was any noise other than silence. The dullness of the situation prompted me to gaze at my surroundings inside our hovel. Piled where Victor and I weren’t sleeping were the things we’d collected. Next to Harold’s BB gun was a yellow fiberglass sledgehammer and a similar axe. In an unzipped travel bag, I had many of the brightly colored strange tops; I rather liked their shape and color. I’d found them in a plastic bin full of both these strange shirt-like garments and matching bottom-halves. Due to the circumstances, I hadn’t taken the time to pack them neatly; I just tossed all the tops from the bin into my bag, intending to sort through them later to see which ones fit best. Not in a bag, but tied to the strap of one, were the steel-toed boots I found; they looked lethal if used to step on someone’s foot. I’d lucked out in finding a durable pair of heavy-duty work boots that fit my feet since my tattered moccasins were falling apart; they were men’s boots but I didn’t care. Victor had already packed most of our other finds but the majority of them were gifts for our friends in the village.
If I hadn’t cradled my bow and scimitar, I would’ve fallen asleep and not seen the bare feet beneath the coat racks blocking the clothes section. Jerking my head up to look at their faces from my concealed position, I nudged Victor. With a finger to my lips, I pointed between the coats at the searching people. His hand moved to the hilt of a sword, but he didn’t draw it. Instead he and I were statues in the center of a fountain while pedestrians flocked around us. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead but it turned out to be unnecessary terror when the tribal nomads bought our disguise.
They left us alone! Alone!
Relieved, we sat back against each other and listened to them beat in the bathroom door. Neither of us slept the rest of the night. Eventually we heard the people leave although out of fear we stayed hidden the whole night. Also, for some reason, Victor’s hand never moved from mine.
Around five o’clock, we decided it was safe to get up. We hadn’t heard any movement in a while and felt we could be free again.
“When do you think your father will come looking for us?” Victor asked, helping me to my feet.
I shrugged; the magnitude of what we’d just survived was dawning on me. “He’s a morning person but he’s got to find us, not to mention deal with any unexpected circumstances that might arise.”
Victor nodded and looked away, contemplating something, before he returned his gaze to my eyes. “Préyhen, can I ask you something?” He had a strange longing in his brown eyes.
“Of course you can, you know that.” Victor’s request was oddly timed and placed, but not the first time he’d asked that question; it was his way of starting a conversation that could be difficult to talk about, yet was something he wanted to get off his chest.
“Did,” He paused and reconsidered his wording. “How,” He sighed and pursed his lips. “I was wondering what was going through your mind while we waited for the tribes?”
I was taken aback. Before I could reply, Victor swept me into a tremendous hug; his voice was croaky as he pressed me so tight, I felt a rib crack. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
“Chill,” I patted his back, despite being a little unsettled by his unexpected words. “I’m still here.”
“Sorry,” he muttered, stepping back. “I guess I got kind of worked up over what happened.”
A splash of guilt washed over me. “Hey,” I whispered, moving one foot between his legs and hugging him again. “Don’t tell yourself that I’m glad you’re still here too.” I rubbed his back.
“Thanks,” He held me again. My attempts to make him feel better lasted several minutes. When I tired of the hug, he got my hints and stepped away, or rather tripped backwards. I tried to catch him but only my tail could’ve reacted fast enough and it was the cause behind Victor falling; it had wrapped around one of both our legs. He tumbled onto a mound of clothing and laughed. “I get the impression you do that on purpose.”
I blushed. “Of course I don’t!”
“Whatever,” He chuckled. “Shouldn’t we get ready for your dad?”
“I guess we should pack up and stuff.” I agreed with a rising and dropping of my shoulders.
“Actually I was thinking you could find a different shirt; I don’t know how your dad would react to what you’re wearing.”
I thought about his words and they made sense. My father had been around before the Catrion War, meaning he had likely observed people wearing the sort of clothing I had on, or at least he had known what their purpose was. Imagining the colorful revealing chest-covering was used in an act of marital entertainment, I expected seeing his daughter in kinky PJ’s would send my father into a frenzy. It wouldn’t be a pleasant experience and neither would the trip home afterwards.
Slipping a gray tunic on over the piece of clothing I’d developed a fondness for I felt was sufficient. Victor helped me organize our things. It turned out he was quite gifted at condensing the luggage so more of it would fit in fewer bags; the bags became denser and consequently heavier but it was worth it.
Victor and I piled our junk on the forklift, and with that settled, we relaxed around it. By nine-thirteen, my father hadn’t arrived and we were losing our patience. I supposed it was better than losing our marbles, but it was frustrating nonetheless. So I wouldn’t lose my marbles, I picked up the radio and called him.
“Did you get lost?” I wondered.
The reply took a few minutes to come but it eventually did. My father sounded out of breath. “Yes, actually. Do you mind giving me some directions?”
I laughed and did my best to tell him how to find me. It took some time but the three of us managed to get my father to the department store. It was funny though when he claimed to have found it yet Victor and I saw no trace of him outside. I’d suggested he come to a specific door for us to let him in, but he never answered that statement. Instead he was spotted walking our way from the back of the store.
“How’d you get in? We had all of the entrances blocked!” I exclaimed.
“It was through the garden department, wasn’t it?” Victor asked, sure of the answer.
“No, there was another unblocked door.”
Victor and I gawked at each other though I wasn’t surprised to learn we’d missed a door.
“I entered through the roof. There’s a ladder hanging from the roof and stairs that lead to an office above a wrapped-up pallet of canned food—it looked like a giant bee-hive with all the bugs crawling beneath the cellophane—and I got in that way.” My father explained. I cursed my stupidity; we hadn’t even ventured into that office. “Let’s get that forklift out into the street. I found an eighteen-wheeler out there with a hydrogen fuel cell. I want to have the forklift near it for the transport to pick up.”
Most of the next three hours were spent coercing the forklift outside. During the effort, aside from creating a salty solution to secrete from various glands on our bodies, we filled each other in on what had transpired. My father informed us that our strategy for evading the tribes foolhardy and reckless; for that reason he deemed it brilliant. As I’d known would happen, he was overjoyed we survived and were safe. Victor joked that if something had happened to him, his mother would murder my father for eliminating the person she used to reach things; his mother wasn’t the tallest of people.
“She might kill me anyways.” My father mumbled; he kicked the dust on the ground out of nervous anxiety.
“Why?” Victor wondered. “I’m still alive.”
“Despite my bet efforts, the tribe that attacked us found the horses and cart.”
“Oi,” Victor stumbled backwards. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”
“I’ll explain it to her and compensate for the loss.” My father scratched the back of his neck. “Once I’ve told her what happened, she’ll understand.” He didn’t sound too convinced.
The rest of the day, we waited for the transport to arrive. After all we’d been through, none of us were too eager to hike home, so my father persuaded the transport’s crew to ferry us back to our village. By persuaded, I mean bribed.
Unfortunately, with complete disregard to our sleep deprived state, the transport arrived in late evening and didn’t drop us and our cargo odd at the village landing point. When we started walking home, I began to resent Victor’s packing abilities; my bags were quite heavy.
At my house was where Victor and I said farewell since his house was closer to the village than ours. My father opened the door as loudly as a muted stereo. We stepped inside, and the first thing I did was march to my room where I dropped my bags, kicked my shoes off, and collapsed onto my bed, fully dressed.
With the coming of morning, also came my first shower since we left. Somewhat stricken by another of the flamboyant mysteries I’d picked up, I wore it as an undershirt; this one was neon green and navy blue. So my parents or any of the other villagers wouldn’t think down on me, I put on another shirt above it. Upon completing my morning routine, I braced myself to greet the world.
Fortunately, the first person I met who wasn’t either of my parents was indeed family. A jubilant smile appeared on my lips at the sight of my sister and her eight-year-old- son. Drib and I were good friends with each other, and she was one of the few as scarred by the Catrion War as me. For that and a lot of other reasons I looked up to her.
Usually I had to crane my neck to look up to her. Considering how different she was from every other mammal except one type, it wasn’t that shocking to have to look up to see her most of the time. In truth, it was a bit shocking to see her standing.
If a human with a monkey tail was a sight one didn’t see everyday, a person with massive wings protruding from their back was a less common sight. Drib had been a prisoner of the Catrions since birth before my father intervened. She had been an inhumane experiment in which the Catrions played with her DNA. The end product turned out to be a girl with a “feathered” fifteen-foot wingspan.
Her wings weren’t really feathered, but were coated in a thin hair that shared nearly every property with feathers. Interestingly, this hair helped Drib fly like a bird. A side effect which was probably unanticipated by the Catrions, was the connection of the hair to her emotions. If she was under any stress, the hair on her wings would immediately fall out, but upon returning to a happy disposition, it grew back its full six inches in a matter of seconds. It was wild, I knew, but watching it happen was wilder. It was like a nature documentary showing a flower blooming.
Her wings made her resemble the stereotypical angel. In the air, she was even more graceful than the angels I compared her to. She had a suave way of expressing a freedom others could only dream of. This freedom she exploited quite often, and it let her get around the village quicker than anyone else; it was also what made her such a challenging foe in a swordfight.
She had her eight-year-old son standing behind her in the kitchen; his name was Leroy. Like Drib, Leroy had furry wings but his eye belonged to his father. Leroy didn’t seem to fit his wings though; they were three times as long as he was tall.
Leroy clung to his mommy, but when he saw e, he squeezed between her legs and ran to me, He was short for his age but made up for it in spirit.
“Valerie!” He was one of the few people I let call me by my middle name. It was so cute when those pudgy cheeks stretched wide for the first syllable before scrunching up for the last two, which he always combined into one. “Mommy told me she’s got a surprise in her belly!”
My head snapped to look at Drib; I was suddenly overjoyed. Likewise, Drib was beaming.
“Leroy, it was supposed to be a secret so mommy could tell.” She cooed.
“But Mommy, I didn’t tell Valerie you’re having a baby!” Leroy exclaimed.
“Is it true?!” I pleaded, knowing I was going to be an aunt for the second time.
Drib nodded slowly. I was so excited that the hug she was going to get anyways couldn’t wait any longer. The excitement was too much for my sister; first came a giggle, then a chortle, and then all out laughter. Pretty soon I’d joined in, and so had Leroy, even though his laughter was probably more sympathetic than ecstatic.
“I was coming to ask if you could look after Leroy for me. Charlie and I will be taking a brief excursion to Mars, and then we plan on attending the Kyokujitsu’s retirement.” Drib explained, sitting down at the table to sip her freshly-brewed coffee; she dumped multiple tablespoons of multiple flavor-changers in it.
Concluding I’d like a similar cappuccino, I poured me a mug and added a minute amount of vanilla creamer. “I can watch him.” I assured her, sitting down. “I don’t know what will happen when the Kyokujitsu is retired though. Mom and Dad are going also.”
“Dad and I already worked it out. He’s going to stay with Mrs. Borealis. He’ll stay with you during the day, though Mrs. Borealis said you could stay with her too while Mom and Dad are away.”
I nodded. “That sounds good, though I don’t know whether I’ll stay home or stay with Mrs. Borealis.”
“It’s not me who needs to know.” Drib smiled and subconsciously placed a hand on her stomach. “Dad told me you nearly beat him in a swordfight.”
I laughed. “Yeah, we fought each other.” From there, I proceeded to describe all the gory details of the trip.
Drib spent the rest of the day talking with me, but at four thirty-seven in the afternoon, she had to leave to get ready for her trip. She returned to what had formerly been Glenwood County High School, where she lived and worked with her husband. Glenwood County High School, since the end of the Catrion War, had been converted into a hospital. Doctor Charles McLeod was the chief medical official there, and so he could provide that extra touch to patients, he and his family lived in the same building as those in dire need of help.
Leroy was a little sad to see Drib leave, but he was a courageous tyke and concentrated on playing with me instead. Even though Leroy’s grandparents loved him dearly, the child preferred my company if he couldn’t have his mother’s He liked my mom, but typically shied away from her. Having a tail gave my father a smidgeon more of Leroy’s affection, but still I was the ideal substitute fiend. Leroy liked my age being closer to his and that I had a tail. Understandably, he bonded better to those who were different than everyone else. I was glad he had three people to make role models of as opposed to the two I’d had.
I took Leroy to the living room where we played a board game. Afterwards, he played with a few action figures while I multitasked; I read a book and made one of Leroy’s toys hobble about with my tail. It was enough for him.
Babysitting him wasn’t any trouble, or it had never been before and I didn’t think it would change. After asking one of my parents to watch Leroy, I decided to go into town even if only to stretch my legs. Though I was leaving him behind, I figured Leroy would want to know where I was going.
“Hey buddy,” I crouched to his level. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
He nodded and went back to playing happily.
With that out of the way, I pulled on my shoes, shut the door behind me, and considered the library as a possible destination. For the sake of not failing, it wasn’t a bad choice, with a giant essay’s due date clouding my future.
The library was at the village center. The village was much too small to have that many buildings, so the library and village records were in what had once been a thrift store in the second slot of a strip mall. In fact, that strip mall housed a few of the villages services and was normally the busiest part of the village.
On one corner of the C-shaped strip mall, was the school; that section had originally been a general store with a care inside. Next to the school was the library, and nest to that was a space reserved for the village’s economic information center. It had once been a hair salon but was now the closest thing the village had to a local government; it was mostly the place people went to have their needs imported but it was also in constant communication with space and other villages. Between that section and the library was a bulletin board informing villagers of upcoming events. The other end of the strip-mall had an auto-repair shop on it, or rather, it used to be one. Now it was a stable and general repair shop.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a glint of reflected light. Alaric was standing in the shadows next to a tree across the unpaved street that the strip mall was on. The glint had been his ebon blade coming out of its scabbard. He knew I’d noticed him, so he stepped into the fading pink light of the setting sun; the light gave his skin a waxy look.
“Rumor has it you know how to use one of these.” He held his scimitar casually, turning it as he spoke.
“I’d show you, but you wouldn’t like it—you’d get cold.” I scathed.
“I intend for you to show me, that is of course, if you’re still up for it.”
I stopped in my tracks. “You’re lying.” Part of me hoped he wasn’t so I could end the ridicule.
“Am I?” He taunted. “What if I’d found a way to the Great Lakes?”
“That’s still nowhere near the Catrions.” I stated. “I don’t know if you checked, but Africa isn’t an island in the middle of Lake Superior.”
“How dense can you get?” He sheathed his scimitar. “I’ve booked a ride on an ocean liner with a shady character.”
“How did you manage that?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve got people, but nevermind that. Our ship leaves on the twenty-third, whether or not we’re there.”
“The twenty-third?” In the recesses of my contemplating mind, the date sounded familiar. “That’s the day the Kyokujitsu is retired.”
“Yeah, and if we leave by Wednesday, we can make it to the docks on the twenty-first.” He explained. “Are you in?”
I nodded. “Yes,” Had I been thinking rationally, I would’ve realized it was impossible. Unfortunately, I wasn’t.
Alaric nodded and walked to his home.
I approached the library, stepped on the welcome mat, and spun around. Hanging off the edge of the awning over the library entrance was Leroy. It was his landing that had alerted me to his presence.
“Hi there!” He chirped, oblivious to the fact he was upside down on a porch roof. “Aren’t I so cool? I followed you!”
I opened my mouth to scold him and demand what he’d heard, but on second thought, I decided against it. Nothing revealed confidential information better than a kid told not to tell. Leroy was no different.
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