Jacob Michaels Is Not Crazy

by Chase Connor

  “Kinda the thing, innit?” He headed towards the door. “We get to live ‘ere and you get your chores done. Fair trade.”

  He turned in the doorway to look at me.

  “Ya’ need anythin’ you just let me know.” He jabbed a thumb into his chest. “I know the ins and outs of this house better’in the rest of ‘em.”

  I nodded, looking down at my feet.

  “What’s botherin’ ya’ now?” He threw his hands up in the air.

  I looked up at Ernst.

  “I don’t know where I belong, Ernst,” I said lowly.

  Why was I being so honest with…well, a Kobold…of all people?

  “Well, I says if you don’t know where ya’ should be, ya’ should just stick where ya’ are.” He gave a firm nod. “No point in runnin’ ‘round like an idjit if you dunno what you’re lookin’ for, right?”

  I smiled.

  “’Sides…one place is as good as any. Longs ya’ got good food, a good bed, and someone to care for ya’.” He grinned proudly.

  Obviously, Ernst, and probably the other Kobolds I hadn’t met yet, took a lot of pride in the place that they called home.

  “That’s good advice, Ernst,” I said. “Thank you. And you can sleep in the bed if you want, but try to crawl in before the lights go out. When I’m drifting off to sleep and feel you crawl into bed, it’s a little jarring.”

  The tips of Ernst’s ears, which I suddenly noticed were slightly pointed, like an elf, wiggled as he smiled up at me. It was precious, but I was smart enough to figure out that I probably shouldn’t mention such.

  “Thank you for my laundry, Ernst.” I motioned vaguely at the dresser.

  Ernst blushed and gave a slight bow of his head before he disappeared down the hallway. I shut my bedroom door and went to relax on the bed with my cup of hipster coffee. That was how I spent the rest of my afternoon, immersed in scrolling through my phone and sipping at my delicious store-bought coffee while the rest of the house silently existed around me. I didn’t see Ernst or any of the others for the rest of the afternoon and Oma didn’t come in to bother me either. It was a perfect afternoon.

  Around five in the afternoon, Lucas texted, disturbing my immersive Pinterest experience—which I had just created an account—and told me that he was on his way over to Oma’s. The message was accompanied by smiley faces with hearts for eyes and a smiling face blowing a kiss. It was kind of cute but it also made my stomach sink. It was a little too familiar and presumptive. We hadn’t made plans to get together. We hadn’t even decided what it was we were really doing with each other. Was it too early in the relationship to be sending kissy faces and heart eyes?

  When Lucas pulled up in the driveway, Oma was in the kitchen, banging around and fixing dinner—possibly with Lena assisting just out of sight?—and I was sitting on the porch in my heavier spring coat. Lucas’ truck slid to a stop in the slush at the end of the mostly cleared driveway, smiling at me through the windshield. I gave him a smile and waved as he put the truck into park and shut it off. Immediately, he was leaping out of the truck and practically skipping over to the porch. I stood from the chair and walked over to the steps to greet him. His arms immediately went around my middle as he ascended the steps to meet me, and he smothered my mouth with his.

  Returning his kiss, I ran my fingers through his hair as his body melted into mine. My body wanted to react to his, but I held back, not wanting to make this meeting something that it wasn’t. Lucas must have sensed my reticence because when he pulled back from the lingering kiss, he had a confused smile affixed to his face. I let my fingers play in his hair for a moment before I spoke.

  “We need to talk.”

  His body deflated and he was frowning.

  “This isn’t going to work out for you.” He stated blandly.

  “That’s not what I was going to say.” I pressed my forehead to his.

  Lucas closed his eyes gently as he held his forehead against mine. His whole body was somehow tense but also slumped against mine.

  “I can feel you want to say something that is going to make me sad, though.” He whispered.

  “You wouldn’t be much of a psychic otherwise.” I teased.

  He opened his eyes and pulled back with a slight smile.

  “I’m not psychic.”

  I grinned.

  “Just tell me.” He said.

  “Before you come inside,” I grabbed his hands in mine and held them between us, “I just wanted to say that I want to be very clear about what this is and where it’s going.”

  “Okay.”

  “One, I don’t know what it is.” I shrugged, keeping my eyes on his. “Two, I just want you to know that it needs to slow down.”

  “How is it going too fast?” He frowned pitifully.

  “It’s going too fast because I’m working out who I am, Lucas,” I said. “How can I know what this is, what we are, if I don’t know who Robert Wagner is? I need you to give me space to figure that out before we dive into this head first. Is that okay?”

  Lucas seemed to examine me for a few moments, his eyes on mine as we stood there, holding our hands between our bodies. Was he trying to see if there were any premonitions in that head of his?

  “That’s okay.” He nodded.

  I let a smile overtake my face.

  “Good.” I leaned down to give him a quick kiss. “Because being boyfriends is okay. We don’t have to rush that, right?”

  He grinned widely.

  “Is that what this is?” He whispered, stepping up onto the porch in front of me. “We’re exclusive, babe?”

  “Don’t push it.” I shook my head, amused.

  “Well?”

  I looked around.

  “Who else am I trying to be with?” I relented.

  “Ya’ know,” He laughed, “I’ll take it.”

  “You’re so easy.”

  “For you.”

  “Lord.” I rolled my eyes. “Come in here and have dinner with us.”

  Lucas chuckled as I drug him through the front door, both of us tangled up in each other’s arms. Once inside, Oma hollered that she was still working on dinner, so Lucas and I got a fire started and curled up on the couch together. And we just talked. Okay, maybe we kissed a bit, too, but we talked. Not about anything particularly important but we didn’t fill every moment with groping and kissing and lusting after each other. We acted like two adults trying to discover each other and decide if there was more between us than just how our bodies reacted to each other’s.

  Dinner with Oma was a raucous affair, with Oma regaling us with stories about how proud she was when I was a teenager and acting in all the plays and doing solos in the choir. Lucas admitted how he always had eyes on me when we were in high school together, watching me, wondering if we could have ever been friends. I didn’t know any of those things about my Oma and my, I guess, now, boyfriend. I was an oblivious teenager, I guessed. Maybe I was a bit of a dick. Self-possessed and obsessed. My eyes had always been on the prize of leaving Point Worth.

  And here I was sat, in Oma’s kitchen, not wanting to be anywhere else but with the two people I was with currently. I didn’t want to be in Hollywood. I didn’t want to be on set, shooting another movie, on another stage, performing another song. I just wanted peace and quiet and love. Becoming an adult and gaining experience changes priorities, gives credence to the simple things that youth takes for granted. When you get right down to it, being with people you actually like, or even love, and having a full belly, and a warm house, and not a care in the world beats fame and fortune hands down.

  After dinner, Lucas and I spent a few minutes on the porch, kissing and acting as though we were the only two people in the world. Then I made him leave before I begged him to stay the night again. We didn’t have to have sex every day, sleep in each other’s beds every night. Space and time are what makes relationships grow stronger if they are meant to do so, after all. Proximity breeds familiarity, but longing to be
with someone when they’re not near indicates how deep that love is. So, I sent Lucas on his way. And I was already missing him as I watched his truck drive away in the dark.

  “Oma,” I announced as I entered the kitchen and leaned against the doorjamb.

  A figure scurried away into the cabinet under the sink. Probably Lena. I looked over at the slightly ajar door and then back to Oma. She gave an innocent smile.

  “I don’t want to go back to Hollywood.”

  “Well,” Oma blinked a few times, “that’s something.”

  “I want to stay here,” I said. “For now.”

  Oma just stared at me.

  “If that’s okay?”

  “Of course, it is, Robbie.” She was gob smacked.

  “Okay.” I nodded. “And I need space. And I need truth. So, tell…Lena…and the other Kobolds around here to stop scurrying around here like crazy and just do things like they would if I wasn’t here.”

  Oma chewed at her lip. “Well, don’t bother them too much. They like their space, too, ya’ know.”

  “I wasn’t planning on bothering them,” I replied. “I’m just tired of all of the shadowy creepy shit in my peripheral vision.”

  She nodded.

  “Are you a witch?”

  Oma was blinking again.

  “And is that what I am?” I asked. “Whatever the male version of that is, anyway? Is that why—is that why I am the way I am?”

  “What do you mean by that, Robbie?” She frowned.

  “I became Jacob Michaels so easily,” I said. “You should see me in an interview. I can charm the pants off a journalist or reporter, make a television host fall in love with me. Heads of studios and record labels—producers, directors, agents, managers—they adore me. I’m not that charming, but for some reason, people think I am. And I don’t even have to try. I was an ugly kid and then I hit puberty, the worst time in a kid’s life, and now…please tell me the truth.”

  Oma sighed and set her dishtowel down on the counter, her arms coming to rest over her chest.

  “You ain’t no witch.” She said. “You’re just Robert the youngest. You ain’t got no reason to think you’re a witch, Robbie.”

  “But…I’m something,” I said softly. “Right?”

  “You coulda been.” She said it as though it pained her. “But ya’ ain’t. So, just get that out of your head.”

  “Why am I not?”

  “I said just stop it.” She said firmly.

  “Please, Oma?”

  “Look here.” She pointed a finger at me. “You are just Robert Wagner. And that ain’t gonna change. Ya’ hear me? You want to stay here? Well, we’d love to have you. For as long as you like. But you drop that shit right here and now.”

  “But—”

  Oma stomped her foot. The walls shook. The house groaned. I should’ve been shocked. Instead, a tear slid down my cheek. I felt something inside of me, something in my chest that I couldn’t explain and didn’t have a name for at all. It felt like something was missing from me and I didn’t know what it would be.

  “And you stay out of that goddamn cellar.” She frowned at me. “Ain’t nothin’ in there for you.”

  I nodded. Oma gave a sharp nod and went to pick up her dish towel.

  “You know you’re eventually going to tell me, right?” I reached up to wipe the tear off of my cheek. “You’re just delaying the inevitable. The only thing I don’t know is why, Oma.”

  “Robbie,” She growled, “I’m sick of this shit. You’re not here for none of that. And I won’t hear it. Fine. You know about Ernst and the rest. That’s good enough. You leave the rest of that be! I want you to tell me you understand what the fuck I’m sayin’ to you.”

  “But why?”

  “Why does it matter?” She waggled her head. “When have I ever led you astray, Robbie? Trust that I know what’s best.”

  I wanted to spit out some retort about something awful Oma had done to me that had caused me grief in the past. But, when I thought about it, there was absolutely nothing. Oma was right. She had always done right by me.

  “Fine.”

  “Good.” She gave that sharp nod again. “Now, do you want to wash or dry?”

  I laughed wetly, my eyes shiny with unshed tears.

  “Dry.” I shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Well, get over here and make yourself useful.”

  Chapter 14

  Ernst jumped up in bed when I sat up with a jolt. We glanced at each other in the dark, his shiny black eyes looking like onyx in the darkness of night. I reached over and glanced at my cell phone. It was just after two o’clock in the morning. I had been dreaming about the eerie green light yet again and then something had jolted me awake. It had been a sound, I was pretty sure, but I couldn’t remember what it was for the life of me.

  Something in the night had been loud enough to disturb me from my sleep and had also rattled Ernst. I knew he was rattled because of his stance but also due to the fact that he hadn’t scuttled off into the darkness to wherever it was that he scuttled off to when I had woken up in the past. Of course, now that I knew of his existence, we had talked to each other, it was unlikely that he would avoid me much anymore.

  “Did you hear something, Ernst?” I asked, peering over to look at him, alert at the end of the bed.

  “Aye.” He nodded.

  “What was it?”

  “Dunno, sir.” He whispered. “Someone hollerin’ out, I think.”

  “Oma…?”

  He shrugged his tiny shoulders in the dark. Together, we stayed there in bed together, listening for the sound of whatever it had been that had shaken us from our slumber. I cautiously slid my legs over the side of the bed as Ernst listened and watched me, as though concerned for me.

  “Careful, sir.” He whispered.

  “I’m sure it’s fine.” I tried to smile. “I don’t hear anything now.”

  Ernst gave the smallest of nods as I stood from the bed. I stood there at the bedside, listening for any noise, watching for any movement. Of course, in the dark, how would I know if anything was moving? Ernst was quiet as a church mouse and stood still as a statue as his pointy ears stayed at alert, listening for any sound throughout the house.

  Oma wasn’t screaming out for me and the house seemed as quiet and still as it did on any other deep night at two in the morning. My grandmother was probably still tucked tightly into bed, sleeping soundly. Maybe Lena or another one of the Kobolds asleep at her feet or side. Why had I been dreaming about the green light again? I had promised Oma I would stay away from the cellar, that I wouldn’t search out whatever it was drawing me there.

  That was another thing I had thought about while we were doing dishes after dinner. How had she known about my dreams about the cellar? Or had I been dreaming when I had gone down to the cellar? Had I been sleepwalking and she had caught me doing it? I shivered there in the bedroom in the dark as I stood, listening for sounds. Ernst tiptoed over to the side of the bed and tapped me on the elbow with one of his small, bony fingers.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin, then laughed nervously. Ernst gave me an apologetic smile.

  “Did you hear something?” I looked down into those black eyes in the dark.

  “No, sir.” He shook his head. “I dunno what woke us, sir.”

  I nodded down at him.

  “Maybe I said something in my sleep?” I suggested.

  He shrugged, appearing to be less worried than before.

  “Are you okay?”

  He beamed up at me. Obviously, he was fine. And me asking about his well-being made him happy.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I smiled down at him.

  But then I heard it again. Well, I would have said I heard whatever it was again because what I heard was familiar. I hadn’t known what noise had shaken us from our sleep, but the sound that came to me didn’t sound foreign but like something I had just heard recently. Or, maybe that wasn’t right. It just seemed like I shoul
d know the sound. Ernst’s ears pricked up and his hand went to mine. His tiny hand managed to wrap around two of my fingers frantically as his head turned towards the window.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  Ernst nodded towards the window. I looked down at him. His hand stayed wrapped around my fingers. The child-like gesture would have made me smile if it weren’t for the fact that I was concerned. Something was going on that wasn’t right, even if I didn’t know what it was. I slowly slid my fingers out of Ernst’s grasp as I stepped towards the window. Ernst made concerned noises as I moved away from the bed towards the drapes. Turning my head slightly, I gave him a reassuring smile.

  When I approached the window, I reached out cautiously and grabbed ahold of the drape, pulling it to the side so that I could peer out. Ernst was making concerned noises from behind me as I leaned forward and looked out into the backyard. My eyes grew wide as I looked down and saw a tall, hooded figure in the middle of Oma’s still unplanted garden, hands raised aloft, his or her back turned to me. Several, shorter figures in hoods stood around the figure in a circle, their arms raised towards the sky as well.

  “What the fuck?” I whispered.

  “What is it, sir?” Ernst whisper-hissed behind me.

  “There are people down there,” I said lowly. “They’re…I don’t know what they’re doing.”

  I let go of the drape and stomped over to the bedside table, quickly flipping on the lamp. Ernst shut his eyes against the sudden light as I shoved my feet into my slippers.

  “What are ya’ doing, sir?” Ernst asked frantically when his eyes opened incrementally.

  “I’m going down there and finding out what the fuck is going on is what I’m doing,” I grumbled as I went over to the bathroom door and grabbed my robe. “I’m sick of this shit.”

  “No, sir. No.” Ernst leaped down from the bed and landed on the floor with a soft ‘thump’. “Ya’ shouldn’t go out there. Ya’ should stay here. It’s safe inside of the house.”

  “Ernst.” I pulled my hand back as he reached for it. “I’m going out there and finding out once and for all what is going on here. You just crawl back up onto the bed and go back to sleep. I’ll be back once I talk to those assholes out there.”