Friday, August 2, 2024

Friday Fiction: A Friend You Haven't Met (Part Twelve: Conclusion)

 


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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