We drove along a while in silence, mission accomplished,
heading back to Walnut Springs. About thirty minutes into the drive, I was
starting to think about what we had to do next.
“Gentlemen,” I said. “I don’t know about you, but I could
eat. Padre, where would you suggest?”
Tim seemed taken aback a moment and looked around.
“Given this bunch, I’d suggest the drive-through of
Charlie’s Chicken. The Thirty Piece Family Tenders.” He cocked an eye back at
the burly Roth. “With extra sides, I think.”
An hour later that evening we were sitting in old Bessie,
parked along the central square where it all began. The place was lit up with
strings of white lights in the trees, with the lampposts casting areas of stark
illumination at regular intervals. It was still dark enough inside the car for
privacy, however, and with the window half-unrolled to catch the breeze, the
Morgs were relishing the novel joys of sweet tea sucked through a straw held in
the corner of their muzzles, crunching crispy fried chicken, and scooping up
mashed potatoes out of their very own Styrofoam bowls with black nailed fingers.
Tim and I had already finished our meal and were slouching comfortably back in
the front seat, Maggie cuddled under the old priest’s arm.
I looked over at the fountain, its changing colors
brilliant under the night sky. With a little grunt I turned myself to business.
“Tim, can you think of somewhere we can stash these two
until their friend shows up to take ‘em home? Ordinarily I’d try to hide them
in a hotel somewhere or other, but this little unplanned excursion has et
pretty deep into my liquid assets, as it were. Maybe something attached to the
church?”
Tim frowned, thinking.
“I can’t really think of anywhere that would be entirely
secure; we’ve got a pretty busy parish. I’ve been kind of worried that I’ll
even be able to hide Maggie, here.”
I chuckled.
“Oh, imaginary friends have their little ways. How do you
think they evade parents so well? Anyway, I imagine that in a few days she’ll
run out of juice and disappear. Particularly if you pay her no mind.” He looked
worried at that. I reached over and patted his hand. “But she won’t ever really
be gone, not if you need her again.”
“I don’t want to hide away,” Korm broke in. “I want to see
this world, as long as we’re here, and not be stuck off in some stuffy room or
other.”
“Me, too,” said Roth. “Specially if it means sampling more
grub like this.” He took a deep pull at his tea and sighed contentedly.
“If you don’t, you might be locked up in some stuffy cell
somewhere and maybe even cut up to see what makes you tick.” I snorted. “Not
everyone around here is as broad-minded as I am. If anybody sees you …”
There was a sudden tap on the car window outside, and a
frightened hush fell on us all. The Morgs crouched down and hid their faces
behind their paws as an indistinct figure leaned outside towards me, peering
in. It was a wiry young man, kind of looking like a hippy with his long hair. I
smelt the waft of cheap laundering from his thrift-store clothes. Some kind of
bum, I thought, and my opinion was only confirmed when he asked politely,
“Excuse me, sir, but might I share some of your food?”
“Course you can,” I piped up with hasty cheer, my only
thought being to send him on his way as quick as I could. “Boys,” I began.
“What kind of leftovers we got …”, but then I jumped when Roth burst out
loudly, “Koppa!”
“Roth! Korm! There you are!” In a flash the man had jumped
into the backseat with them, shaking hands and slapping shoulders as well as
the cramped accommodations would allow.
“Did you find the Tekkel?” he asked anxiously.
“We did, with the help of Mr. Bob and Father Tim here,”
Korm said happily. “Pounded it into paste, Roth did.”
“We all beat it,” the big Morg said. “I wouldn’t have had a
chance without Mr. Bob. Almost as good as a wizard he was.” He grinned. “It’s
quite a tale …”
“Which will have to wait till we get home, I think,” the
young man said hurriedly. “We’ve intruded on these people’s world quite enough.
Melniar is waiting in the Domain of Doors.” He leaned up over the seat.
“Gentlemen, I thank you for helping my friends. You’ve done your own world a
greater favor than you can probably know by destroying the Tekkel. We’d better
be on our way before anything else happens. As for myself, I’ve had enough of
this crazy place for a lifetime.” He swung the car door open.
“Hang on a minute,” I interrupted. I unlooped the
translation amulet from around my neck and held it out. “If you’re that wizard
of theirs they’ve been talking about, I reckon this belongs to you.”
“Keep it,” he smiled quickly. “A little reward, and a
memento of our visit.”
The trio shuffled out into the open air, glancing warily
left and right. I watched tensely as they trooped across the grass, hopped the
rim into the fountain pool, and climbed up to the central fountain. Koppa did
something with his hands, there was a flash, and the door swung open again. They
were through and gone almost before you could say “goodbye”. The last thing I
saw was the plastic Charlie’s Chicken bag clutched in Roth’s paw, swinging
behind them as the door closed.
“Well, there go my leftovers,” I sighed. “But maybe that
Koppa boy needs them more than I do. I wonder what he’s been through
today.” I reached over and started up old Bessie. “Like a ride to the church,
Padre?”
“No, I think I’ll walk,” he said. “It’s not far. And it
will give me time to think up how to explain where I’ve been all day. Without
lying.” He chuckled. “Thank God for the concept of equivocation.” He gave me a
sidelong look. “You know, I couldn’t manage hiding those two hairy goomers, but
I could probably rustle you up a bed …”
“No, that’s all right,” I said wearily. “I’m just gonna go
down and park out at the end of Walmart and sleep in the back seat. Won’t be
the first time, either. Then it’s right to the ATM.” I looked over at him. “But
don’t worry. I’ll be around town if you need me.”
“Heaven forbid,” he chuckled. He reached over and we shook
hands. “It was good to see you again, Bob. We finally had that adventure,
didn’t we? God bless.”
“We certainly did. You take care now.”
I watched him stroll down the street, Maggie like a little
bobbing shadow at his side, until I couldn’t see them anymore. I put old Bessie
into gear and drove off into the night.
I had decided, once again, to stay for a spell. It would be
hard, just yet, to leave a place where such interesting things kept happening.
n First Draft, 7:10 PM, 5/17/2020
n Revisions, 11:42 AM, 5/19/2020
Notes
Looking back at how naturally this story broke into twelve
pieces, I kind of imagine that’s probably how I wrote it, in twelve gasps, as
it were.
Bob’s decision to ‘stay for a spell’ obliquely refers to his decision to
actually remain alive a bit longer. His life is preternaturally prolonged by
drinking from the ‘Fountain of Life’: if he decides to drink from the ‘Fountain
of Death’, from weariness or despair, that protection will be removed, and he
will at last die a natural death. He could always, of course, die a violent
death; for instance, no special water can do anything about a beheading. But he’s
been lucky for a long time.
It strikes me that this story has a lot of paths leading out of it. What does Bob, or the Ortha gang, do next? Do Brother Tim and Maggie, or Kassie, have any further adventures? There could be a story, if not a novel, about Kassie, Delphine, Bazzell, and Blake (the younger generation) facing that ‘trouble brewing’ for the Bureau of Shadows.
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