by Obert Skye
Now under new management
“This looks like the kind of place where shady people would stay,” Sigi observed. “Why would my dad stay here?”
“It’s not that bad,” Ozzy said, trying to sound positive. “It’s not that great, either. What room?”
“Two-thirteen,” Sigi answered.
“Let’s hope they’re here.”
“Let’s hope it’s them,” Sigi added, “and not some terrible misunderstanding. It’s possible that my dad wasn’t the one who put that address in your pocket.”
“If it wasn’t him, then who would it have been?”
“I don’t know. Something about this feels wrong.”
“That’s only because we ran away from school. Sheriff Wills is probably combing Otter Rock looking for us.”
“Right,” Sigi admitted. “Either way, this day is going to end with us in trouble. I’ve never seen you do anything like what you did to Adam and Jonas. My dad would have been impressed.”
“I don’t know. He would have called it magic, but it’s not. It’s just the confusing result of something my parents tested on me.”
“Wow,” Sigi said. “It used to be me that dissed magic.”
“I’m not dissing anything,” Ozzy said, wondering if he was using dissing in the proper way. “I hope these pants mean something more than just your dad having bad taste in clothes. I wouldn’t mind being a wizard, but my ability comes from something altogether different.”
“It’s hard to dismiss magic anymore,” Sigi said seriously. “It took a lot to convince me, but I’m finally on board.”
Both Ozzy and Sigi looked across the street at the motel. It wasn’t pretty, but it was possible that behind door number 213 there was a wizard and a bird that they both needed tremendously. The last time they had seen Rin, he was in the middle of the ocean. Now they were hoping they would find him in the Marsh and Meadow Motel.
“Well . . .” Ozzy looked at Sigi and smiled. “Should we see if your magic dad is home?”
Ozzy held his left hand up. Pointing his finger like a wand, he felt his body buzz in a way that had become familiar. He looked out at the vehicles on the road and caught the thoughts of the people driving. Ozzy took over their will and most of the cars slowed and came to a stop. There were a few drivers Ozzy couldn’t control, but they also had to brake to avoid hitting the cars in front of them.
Sigi’s dark eyes widened as she gazed out over the street filled with unmoving traffic. Vehicles sat there running idle, the drivers dazed and bewildered. Those who weren’t under Ozzy’s control honked at the other cars in confusion.
“You realize we could have walked to the corner and waited for the light,” Sigi pointed out.
“I need the practice,” Ozzy said, trying hard to concentrate on keeping the cars stopped. “Come on.”
They wove through the vehicles. Once they reached the other side, Ozzy relaxed. Cars began to move again as everyone tried to figure out what had happened.
“I worry about you,” Sigi said as they walked up to the hotel. “What happens when all that power you have goes to your head?”
“These pants will keep me humble.”
Ozzy and Sigi crossed the parking lot and walked past the motel’s office, climbed the cement stairs to the second floor, then walked down the open walkway in front of the rooms. From where they were, it was easy to see and hear the noise from the street below.
Ten doors down, they reached room number two hundred and thirteen. It was the last room on the end.
The two of them stepped up to the door and stared at the faded number.
213
Sigi turned around and looked down at the traffic, running smoothly again. It was hard for her to keep her feet still—the possibility of seeing her dad made her jittery.
“This could be good or bad,” Ozzy said quietly.
“My dad wouldn’t lead us into a trap.”
Before Ozzy could both disagree and give detailed examples, Sigi reached out and rapped on the door.
The noise from the street made it hard to hear if any sound was coming from the room. They leaned in closer and tried to listen.
Sigi knocked again.
The knob twisted slowly and then, with a swift tug, the door was pulled open.
Ozzy and Sigi gasped appropriately.
The thought had crossed Ozzy’s and Sigi’s minds that it might not be Rin who answered the door. But their desire to see Clark and the wizard had tricked them into forgetting that reality doesn’t always give people what they want. And unfortunately, the person who answered the door was not what they wanted, not by any stretch of the imagination. It wasn’t an illegal seamstress working on magic pants. It wasn’t even a friendly stranger who they could apologize to for knocking on the wrong door.
True, it was the wrong door, but in a different way.
As the door swung open, the man on the other side of the door stared back at them, his light-brown eyes filled with a mix of bewilderment, fear, and surprise. The average-looking man was wearing a plain white polo and brown jeans, no shoes, no socks, and no welcoming expression. The man was no stranger; he was also someone they would have been perfectly happy never seeing again.
“Jon!” Ozzy said, jumping back.
Standing just a few feet in front of them was the very same Jon whom Ray had hired to track Ozzy down.
All three of them exchanged nervous and surprised looks.
Jon was awestruck. “I don’t believe it.”
Awe was not an easy expression for the man to make. Jon was a lot of things: ex-military, gun for hire, shady, and bland. He was an average height, had average brown hair, and unremarkable features. His teeth weren’t too white or too yellow, and his ears were just standard-looking ears. His stance was unremarkable, his body was of an average build. He was a lot of things, but expressive wasn’t usually one of them.
“You!” Sigi said.
The little bit of color in Jon’s face disappeared and his knees wobbled. He was no longer intimidating. He was worn out and weak. All the fear of him that Ozzy and Sigi had once felt was gone. The average man’s eyes went wide, and a panicked expression, like that of someone whose picture had just been unwillingly taken, flashed across his unremarkable face. He looked like he couldn’t decide whether he should slam the door or take off running.
“You . . .” he managed to say.
“Us,” Sigi said with a growl.
Ozzy wasted no time attempting to clip into Jon’s brain. It was surprisingly easy. The man put both his hands back behind his head and stepped backwards into the room.
“What’s happening?” Jon asked nervously. “What’s going on?”
Jon continued to move farther into the room. Ozzy and Sigi stepped through the door, always staying ten feet away from the retreating man. Once they were all inside the room, Sigi closed the door behind them.
“I can’t control my feet,” Jon whimpered. “What’s happening?”
Ozzy took a second to survey their surroundings. The room was a large suite with two beds and a separate sitting area to one side with a couch and a desk. On the other side was a kitchenette with a stove, refrigerator, and a small table with three wooden chairs tucked underneath it. An open door in the back led into the bathroom. Everything was old, and a few hairs and mystery stains shy of disgusting.
Ozzy had Jon stop near the small table. The confused man stood trembling as he fought his own body for control. It may have been gilding the lily, but Ozzy had Jon pull out two of the wooden chairs at the table and motion for his guests to sit down.
“Thanks,” Ozzy said.
The two of them sat down.
Jon stood behind the third chair looking dumbstruck. He was at war with his own mind. He wanted to grab his gun from the holster on his ankle and run, but instead he moved his chair and sat do
wn at a safe distance from the two teenagers.
Ozzy let go of Jon’s mind.
“What’s happening?” he said, relieved that he could speak freely. He tried to stand up, but Ozzy kept him in his chair.
“It’s probably best to stay right where you are,” Ozzy suggested.
“I don’t understand,” Jon argued. “Are you messing with my brain?”
“What brain?” Sigi said, still angry about what Jon had done to her in the past. “Just think of this as paying you back. I’m sure you remember locking me up in a shed.”
“I remember you having no problem getting out.”
“We weren’t expecting you to be here,” Ozzy said honestly.
“I wasn’t expecting you to walk right up to my door. I was expecting the pizza delivery guy. Why are you here?”
Ozzy looked at Sigi and shrugged.
“I guess we need some answers about things,” Ozzy said.
“What things?”
“For starters, how long have you been here?”
“After getting back from that night in the ocean I came here to this hotel.”
“Motel,” Ozzy corrected him.
“Right,” Jon said. “Motel.”
“Why?” asked Sigi.
“To keep an eye on you two.”
“So Ray hasn’t given up?”
“I have no idea what Ray is doing.” Jon sniffed smugly. “I’m no longer working for him.”
“Really?” Sigi asked suspiciously. “You quit?”
“I’ve had no communication with him since that day three weeks ago.”
“Then why are you still hanging around?”
Jon sat there quietly.
“Why do you still care what we do?” Sigi demanded. “That’s just creepy. Well, not just creepy, it’s also pervy and wrong. Sheriff Wills won’t put up with that.”
“Sheriff Wills doesn’t concern me,” Jon said. “He’s easy to avoid.”
“We found you,” Sigi argued. “You’re not that good at what you do.”
“Please,” Ozzy said, sounding genuine and wanting to get the conversation back on track, “I don’t understand. If there’s no job, then why do you still care what we’re doing?”
Jon locked eyes with Sigi. “I want to see the wizard.”
Ozzy and Sigi glanced at each other with disbelief.
“Rin?” Ozzy asked. “You were there. You saw him disappear into the ocean.”
“And he hasn’t resurfaced?”
The two kids shook their heads.
“We thought he might be here,” Ozzy admitted.
Jon scoffed. “No wonder you looked so disappointed when I opened the door.”
“Actually,” Sigi said, “the disappointment was all because it was you.”
The average man stared at the above-average girl. “Your words don’t hurt me. I don’t blame you for hating me, but I am no longer your enemy. I am after Rin, and I will find him.”
“So you don’t know what Ray’s going to do next?” Ozzy said.
“No. I’m done with him.”
“I don’t believe you,” Sigi said.
“Well, I can’t speak any plainer. It’s the truth.”
Ozzy closed his grey eyes and focused on Jon’s mind and will. His power gave him the ability to control the actions of others, but it didn’t bestow him with the power to make people give up their secrets—he could think for them in the moment, but he couldn’t see thoughts they already had. Which meant that Ozzy had to be creative to motivate others to cough up what they knew.
Staring casually at Jon, Ozzy began to think. His thoughts caused the man to stand up.
“What’s . . . happening?” Jon could hardly speak. “Come on.”
Ozzy made the man dash across the room and slam up against the wall. Jon the Average bounced against the surface, fell onto one of the beds, and rolled off and onto the floor. He moaned for a moment before standing back up.
“What’s Ray going to do next?” Ozzy asked.
“I told you—I no longer work for him.”
“You’ve told us a lot of things,” Sigi said. “Most of them were lies.”
Ozzy pointed his finger at Jon. The helpless man walked to the kitchenette area of the suite. He opened one of the drawers near the fridge and pulled out a yellow ceramic plate.
“Don’t . . .” Jon tried to say.
It was no use; Ozzy was making decisions for the man. Jon placed his left hand down on the counter. Then, with his right hand, he thwacked the plate against his fingers.
“That’s for kidnapping Sigi.”
Jon whimpered and smashed the plate down again. It broke into a dozen pieces and fell onto the floor.
“That’s for trying to shoot us in the ocean.”
Jon picked up another plate.
“I really don’t . . .”
Whack!
“That’s for owning too many guns,” Sigi said.
Jon was beside himself but unable to do anything about it. Ozzy relaxed his thoughts.
“How are you doing this?” Jon asked, standing there frozen.
Ozzy didn’t answer the question. Instead, he asked one. “What’s Ray’s next move?”
“How many times—”
Ozzy’s finger buzzed as he took over Jon’s will again. The man stopped talking. He turned and opened the refrigerator. Inside was a gallon of milk, a few bottles of water, and some leftover spaghetti. Jon took out the milk, twisted off the cap, and poured the contents over his head. His face was milky and muddled as he tried to make sense of what he was doing to himself.
“Let go of my mind!” he demanded.
“Just tell us what Ray is going to do next.”
Jon pulled out the spaghetti and smeared it all over his face. With milk in his hair and pasta pushed into his nose and ears, he finally looked more interesting than average.
“I don’t know what Ray is doing. Don’t—”
Jon spun on his heels, and under Ozzy’s command walked into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, screaming, “You have the wrong—!”
With the door shut, Ozzy and Sigi could hear Jon thrashing and struggling in the bathroom. The sound of water running, the toilet flushing, cabinets slamming, and walls being pounded filled their ears.
Sigi looked worried. “You’re not killing him, are you?”
Ozzy shook his head. “Not unless the shampoo is poisonous.”
The sound of the shower curtain being ripped down and Jon begging for help drifted angrily through the room.
“All you do is think it and he does it?” Sigi asked.
Ozzy nodded. “I see a switch in their minds and flick it on and off with a thought. When it’s on I can place my own will into their head.”
Jon screamed something about the taste of motel soap.
“Wow,” Sigi said solemnly. “I hope the wrong person never gets ahold of your power.”
“Me too.”
The bathroom door swung open.
Jon was soaked. There was soggy toilet paper wrapped around his waist and legs and stuck to his shoes. His hair was painted with toothpaste and there was shampoo in his eyes. He spit out a tiny bar of soap. Unable to see well, he stumbled back and into his chair. His red, soapy eyes blinked erratically.
“Okay,” he said, as a large soap bubble formed under his right nostril, “I’ll tell you everything.”
Jon sat quietly on the wooden chair. He hung his head and tried to control his breathing. His eyes burned; his body was dripping with water and goop. He had no idea how he had gotten himself into the situation he now faced. He was an accomplished mercenary being bested by a couple of teenagers. He had taken down powerful people, manipulated governments, toppled regimes, and always gotten his mark. But somehow in t
he last little while, two kids, a toy bird, and a wizard had completely done him in.
Three weeks ago, Jon had followed all of them out into international waters. He had almost taken control, but then something had burst through the dark surface of the ocean and blown apart the wooden vessel he had been on. Ozzy and Sigi had departed the scene in the boat Jon had brought. He was left alone in the dark ocean with nothing but a small lifeboat and two oars.
He was also left with the nagging suspicion that magic might be real.
After the Spell Boat had been blown apart and Jon had been left for dead, he slowly rowed back to the Oregon shore. It had taken a day, but all the rowing gave him time to think. There were so many things he didn’t understand and couldn’t explain. He had seen Rin do some remarkable, magical-seeming things. At first Jon thought the wizard was a bother, but with everything Rin did, Jon became more of a believer. Now he not only believed, but wanted some of whatever it was that Rin had. Jon saw the wizard as a religion that he wanted to join.
He needed to find Rin and figure out where his power came from.
Jon’s life had always been dark and selfish. Now he desired to believe in something bigger than what he had settled for his entire life.
When he finally reached the shore, he stole a car and drove to Salem. The town was big enough to hide him, and just far enough away from Otter Rock for him not to be spotted. Jon holed up in the Marsh and Meadow Motel, waiting impatiently for any sign of Rin’s return. He had watched the news and done some spying, but so far, the wizard had not resurfaced.
Today, just before ordering a pizza, Jon had planned to take another trip into Otter Rock to see how close he could get to Patti’s house without the cops noticing. He had felt certain that if Rin were back, Jon would be able to tell by the way Ozzy and Sigi were acting.
But Jon’s plans had been upset when Ozzy and Sigi appeared at his door. Acting carelessly, he had opened the door without checking who it was. It was a mistake he’d never made before. But his guard had been down. No one knew he was alive, and he was hungry. He had thought he was opening the door for the pizza man.
The disappointment of not getting that pizza was second only to him now being pushed around by his own mind as it operated under Ozzy’s direction.
