by Kathy Love
“You’re babbling,” Jocko said, his words slurred.
“Or maybe you’d like some fresh crawfish,” I said with a wry smile.
He tilted his head again, then blinked twice. I’d asked so many questions at this point, I wasn’t exactly sure which one the no was for, but I nodded. “Okay, well, then I guess I will head inside.”
I started to back away from him. Sure, we’d had a nice semi-chat, but I wasn’t totally sure I could trust him yet. He watched me, then blinked, which I took to mean he agreed I should get into my house. I bent down to pick up my bag, shaking Jocko back inside with more force than necessary.
“Merde,” he muttered. “Easy now.”
I didn’t respond, heading to my door and unlocking it.
I glanced over toward the edge of my porch. The rougarou still watched me. I offered him a wary smile. “Thanks.”
He growled back.
I stepped inside, only to poke my head out again. This time, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows again.
I secured the lock and rearmed the alarm.
I hated that I still didn’t understand what was going on, but I felt less on edge. After all, it wasn’t many people who could claim to have a rougarou as private security.
I was in my kitchen the next morning when I heard a knock at my door. I quickly set down the spatula I was using to make scrambled eggs and rushed to answer it. This had to be the rougarou. He probably felt it was safer to talk in the light of day, and I had a ton of questions.
I yanked the door open, mouth open, ready to hit him like an inquisitor. But instead, I was met by no one. I frowned and glanced around. Aside from the rattle and rumble of a garbage truck slowly going up the street, there weren't any other signs of life.
What the heck was happening now? I started to close my door, when I spotted something glittery near my bare feet. I crouched down to see two boxes, a rectangular one with a smaller one on top. Both were tied together with a pretty sparkly silver bow.
I picked the boxes up, then looked around again. No sign of anyone.
“Mally! What’s that smell?” I heard Jocko growling from his aquarium, followed by the sound of retching.
I slammed the door shut, swallowing hard just hearing him getting sick. Then the smell hit me. Ack. My eggs.
I rushed back to my kitchen, dropping my mystery gifts on the counter. I hurried to turn off the stove burner. Smoke and the noxious odor of scrambled eggs flambé nearly made me reenact Jocko’s reaction. I threw the pan in the sink and flipped on the faucet. Steam and more smoke rose up, gagging me further.
Air. I needed air. Waving away the smoke, I went to my kitchen’s back door to throw it open, and that’s when I saw them. The gang of Whoville wannabes. They stared from their spot at my back window, trying to peek into my kitchen.
Nauseated, aggravated and generally unhappy, I didn’t even think, I whipped the door open and raced out. The foursome was already trying to scramble over the chain link fence that separated my small back courtyard from the neighbor’s. I lunged forward and snagged the hood of one of them. The teen made a small squeak and fell back toward me. We both managed to stay on our feet, even as he struggled.
“She’s got me,” the teen cried in a strange, almost cartoonish voice. “She’s got me.”
The other three stopped their climbing and looked back at us. Then to my surprise, they all dropped down to their sneakered feet and faced me. Almost shamefaced.
“I’ll let you go,” I said with more confidence than I really felt. "But only after you answer a few questions.”
To my astonishment, the four all nodded in unison. Well, that was easier than I would have imagined.
“Who are you?”
They each answered, one after the other.
“Jed.”
“Jesse”
“Johnny.”
The last one, the kid I still restrained, mumbled, “Joey.”
I frowned. Great, they looked like identical quadruplets, and they all had J names. That wasn’t confusing at all.
“All right. Why are you watching me?” I released Joey, and he scampered back to his brothers—or who I assumed were his brothers.
They shuffled awkwardly. Possibly Jed, or maybe it was Johnny, poked at a crack in the concrete of my courtyard with the toe of his Vans. Jesse, no, I think that was Johnny, shoved his hands into the front pouch of his sweatshirt.
“Come on, guys. I need to know why you are following me.”
They fidgeted a bit more, staring at the ground rather than me.
“Okay, I guess I’ll have to call the police.” I pulled my cell phone out of my back pocket.
Suddenly, they began talking all at once, a cacophony of odd Chipmunk-y voices. I suddenly realized that was who they reminded me of. The cartoon Chipmunks—plus one.
I raised a hand to silence them. I pointed to the one that I’d captured.
“You, Johnny.”
“Joey,” he corrected.
“Right. Joey. You answer my questions.”
He glanced at his brothers, they all nodded. He nodded too.
“Great. So, why are you following me?”
“Just to be sure you’re okay,” Joey said quite solemnly. The others nodded.
“Well, that’s nice of you.” I said with a slight smile. “But why would you do that?”
Joey fidgeted, clearly debating what to say. “Our—our boss asked us to.”
“And who is your boss?”
More awkward squirming. “He’s—” The brother closest to Joey—maybe Jesse—nudged him with an elbow. Joey glared at him, but said, “We can’t really say, miss.”
I had to admit it was pretty difficult to be too harsh with these guys. Especially when they were being so polite.
“Okay, just tell me this, is your boss dangerous? Does he plan to hurt me in some way?”
They immediately all shook their heads.
“He’s a good guy,” possibly Jed said. Joey glared at him, not pleased. He was clearly taking his job as spokesman very seriously.
I couldn’t help but smile genuinely. These boys were pretty cute, in a rumpled and messy sort of way. If I had to be surveilled by anyone, these guys weren’t too bad.
“He will let me know who he is eventually, won’t he?”
They all nodded.
I nodded, too. I suspected I already knew who their employer was. The rougarou. It was the only thing that made sense, but I decided not to grill them anymore. Instead, I gestured to my house. “Are you guys hungry? I was just making breakfast.”
They exchanged looks, then all nodded. They smiled shyly, and I saw they all had discolored buck teeth like they had been guzzling gallons of orange drink without brushing. I tried not to grimace. Holy cow, their parents really needed to talk to them about the benefits of proper dental hygiene. But I smiled back, suddenly wanting to brush my own teeth, and waved for them to follow.
My kitchen was small, and it was a little crowded as we all piled inside. Right away, I saw them make faces at the lingering smell of burnt eggs. I did, too, deciding to leave the door open.
“Have a seat,” I said. My kitchen table was nothing more than a small cafe-style round top pushed up to the wall with stools around three sides. They hesitated, but then sat. They all took off their knit beanies to reveal tousled light brown hair. They placed the hats on their laps.
Such manners. I was impressed.
Then I remembered the boxes tied with the big silver bow. “Did you boys bring this to me?”
They all shifted to look. Their eyes moved collectively to the boxes in my hands and then to me. In their almost unnerving way, they all shook their heads in unison. Their chubby cheeks grew red.
They weren’t any better at lying than I was, but I let it go. I set the gift back on the counter. “I guess I must have a secret admirer.”
I smiled at each of them, and their chubby cheeks pinkened more.
I turned to the sink and de
bated cleaning out the blackened frying pan to attempt more scrambled eggs. But I was pretty sure the remaining stench had turned us all off from eggs this morning. Plus, I was a big believer in letting dishes soak. Really soak. Okay, I just hated doing dishes.
“How does cereal sound?”
They all nodded eagerly.
I opened the cupboard and pulled out two boxes—some kind of honey oats and the other frosted corn flakes. I reached between the boys and placed them on the table, then went back to the counter to get bowls and spoons and finally a half gallon of milk.
Once they were all set, I waited for them to dig in. But they just watched me with their small, inquisitive eyes.
“Go ahead. Eat up.”
That was all the invitation they needed. Instantly, milk and cereal were being poured and spoons clicked against the bowls as the boys happily ate.
I grabbed a yogurt out of the fridge and leaned on the counter to watch them. I paused mid-bite as an almost maternal satisfaction washed over me. That was super-weird. I wasn’t a kid person. Mainly because I knew very few. But there was something warm and fuzzy about seeing them so pleased with a simple meal. I smiled as I suddenly understood my mother’s need to feed me and my siblings every Sunday. Although I wish she’d just put out cereal rather than attempting to cook.
I would never, never tell my mother about this feeling. JR was desperate for his girls to be married and settle and my mother was desperate for grandwitches. She’d be on a full-fledged campaign if she thought I was even mildly broody.
Which I was not. But the boys were cute.
Soon, they were done. Most of my milk was gone, along with a box and a half of cereal. They looked at me, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do now.
“Thank you,” Joey said. I guessed it was Joey since he was my designated spokesman.
“You’re welcome,” I said, meaning it. “I think I’ll have to tell your rougarou boss that you need meal stipends while you work.”
“Oh, he takes good care of us,” the one that might have been Jed said. The boy next to him, possibly Jesse, elbowed him. Then they all seemed to realize what they revealed. They stared at me, their little eyes nervous and their orangish buck teeth peeking out past their down-turned lips.
I smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him know I guessed your secret.” If I ever got to talk to him for real.
The boys stood, bowed slightly. They mumbled their thanks and then marched single file out my back door.
I moved to shut the door behind them, noticing they still lingered, peeking back around the corner of my house, their heads lined up one over the other like a goofy totem pole. Back to spying on me. Or rather keeping an eye on me. I laughed quietly to myself.
As long as they didn’t try to sneak a peek while I was dressing or showering, I didn’t actually mind. I suspected they were too polite for that type of behavior anyway, and they certainly beat the crap out of being stalked by the gruesome, gator guy.
I locked my back door and headed to my bathroom to get ready for the day. I had to meet my sisters for a bit of last-minute shopping for the ball.
I showered and vigorously brushed my teeth at the mere memory of the Chipmunk Boys grungy teeth. I think I’d buy four toothbrushes and toothpaste while I was out today.
After throwing on some skinny jeans, ripped strategically on one thigh and at the knees, an off the shoulder black T-shirt that Baba Yaga would probably approve of for its 80s Flashdance vibe and my black Doc Martens, I checked my phone. No messages from my sisters, so I headed to the kitchen for a glass of sweet tea and another snack. One yogurt for breakfast wasn’t going to cut it.
With a glazed doughnut clenched between my teeth, and my hands full with my large, glass of iced sweet tea and the silver bowed boxes, I headed to my living room.
I settled onto my sofa and set my drink and the boxes on the coffee table in front of me. I made short work of my doughnut and brushed the crumbs off my hands, took a long sip of my tea and then turned my attention to the gifts.
For a moment, I considered there could be something dangerous in them. But given their blushes, I was certain the Chipmunk Boys left it for me. And I didn’t believe for a moment they would hurt me.
I tugged the bow, then opened the first box.
I pushed aside the tissue paper to reveal sparkly rose gold. The same color as my dress. Exactly.
I pulled out the object, a beaded, sequined band. I held it up, stretching it. After a few moments, I figured out what it was. A headband like flappers wore. The perfect match to my dress. And very cool.
I set it aside and opened the next box. A pair of shoes. Strappy gold, high heels. Not my usual style. I liked chunky shoes and boots. I was usually a disaster in high heels. But these were dainty and gorgeous and matched my dress perfectly as well. I checked the bottom of one. They were a size 6. Exactly the right size.
I suddenly felt all Cinderella and the Chipmunk Boys were like my magical mice. They had seen me pick out the dress, and their accessory choices were on point. Pretty amazing coming from my drab brown-hoodied, baggy-jeaned, and sneakered new pals. Maybe those outfits were just their blend-in-stalker looks.
Either way, the presents were so thoughtful. Maybe buying them toothbrushes wasn’t a particularly nice idea. I decided to leave them boxes of pralines on my back step.
And toothbrushes.
I admired the gifts again, then carefully placed them back in the boxes.
There was a knock on my door. From his aquarium, Jocko groaned miserably at the sound. Served him right. We had to get this whole drinking situation under control. He definitely wasn’t drinking at the ball. I had enough reasons to be embarrassed without also toting around an inebriated familiar, swearing and singing Cajun ditties.
I rose. Maybe this time it was the rougarou. I tried to look out my window but couldn’t see who it was. I knew my J-Team was out there, watching, and I had to admit, it did make me feel more secure. Not that I was sure what they could really do to protect me if it was the gator creep.
I opened the door, only to be surprised—and maybe a little disappointed—that it was my sisters, standing there with conspiratorial grins.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I said, stepping back to let them in. “I thought I was going to meet you in the Quarter.”
“We know you and figured you’d bale on us,” Iris said, strolling in, heading straight to my kitchen.
“You got your dress, so we didn’t think you’d want to do more than that for the ball,” Violet said.
That was usually true. Last year, I avoided the whole “prep” phase completely. I’d shown up in a little, black dress and combat boots. Mom had not been pleased.
“Ack,” Iris said, coming back into my living room. “How do you deal with mornings without coffee?”
“I’m all out.” I hadn’t done any grocery shopping. The week had been far too odd to do basic things like errands.
Iris sat on the couch, waving her hand. Purple sparks flared from her fingers and three large cups of cappuccinos appeared. There were even pentacles drawn in the foam.
“Impressive,” I said. Usually, I felt a nothing but envy at my sisters’ even most frivolous magic. Today, I happily picked up the cup and savored the magical brew. I wasn’t sure why I felt so content. I had no reason to, given I had so much strangeness going on. But I did. Maybe the events of the past few days had caused me to finally crack. But hey, at least I was happy in my insanity.
“Mmm,” I said with appreciation. I sat in one of my oversized chairs. Violet joined Iris on the sofa.
“What’s this?” Iris said, leaning forward to inspect my gifts. She didn’t wait to ask if she could peek inside. She opened the large box and pulled out one of the shoes. “Oow, gorgeous. Where did you find these? I need, too.”
Violet picked up the other one. “These are great.” She shot me a surprised look. “I can’t believe this turnabout. Are you actually looking forwar
d to the ball now?”
“Nope,” I said with a smile.
Violet frowned, obviously confused.
“Where did you find these?” Iris asked again, more interested in shoe shopping than my incongruous behavior.
I debated what to tell them, and finally opted for the truth. “My stalker teens left them on the porch.”
Both of my sisters stared at me.
“They are still following you?” Violet said, immediately set the shoe down like it might burn her.
“How do I get personal shopper stalkers?” Iris said, unfazed. “They have great taste.”
Violet shot Iris an annoyed look, then focused on me. “Have you figured out why they are stalking you?”
“Well, I shouldn’t have said stalking. They are more like my personal team of bodyguards.”
“Aww,” Iris stopped lusting after the shoes and pouted. “I want bodyguards.”
Violet looked at her askance. “I think the actual concern here is why Mally needs bodyguards.”
I had sort of opened a can of worms here, hadn’t I?
“I’m not totally sure. But the teens work for the rougarou. They didn’t want me to know that, but I tricked an admission of sorts out of them during breakfast.” I was quite proud of that fact.
Violet looked lost. Iris had discovered the headband.
“You had breakfast with them?”
“Yeah, I caught them in my courtyard. So, I invited them in here for breakfast.”
“You invited them in here?” Violet said, appalled.
“They are harmless,” I assured her.
“But they work for the rougarou?”
“Yes, I think he’s more the bodyguard actually. But I’m not sure. I’ve only talked to him once. Not really talking. I asked questions and he did the whole blink once for yes and twice for no bit. So, I’m not sure why he’s also watching me. But he did save me from being attacked, or possibly abducted, by a gator Shifter.”
Now, even Iris had stopped examining the headband and stared at me.
