Strays

by Remy Wilkins

  “Batman doesn’t go into space?”

  Ray made an ugly face and shook his head. “No, he likes being in the dark and underground. Never trust something that spends most of its time buried in darkness.”

  “What about someone who has food all over his face? Can I trust him?” Rodney gestured at Ray’s beard.

  Ray laughed and smacked his lips. “Yeah? That’s the problem with these sandwiches. I end up wearing most of it.” He dabbed himself with a napkin. “There’s plenty of stuff for lunch in the fridge. I’m going to work straight through, I think. No interruptions.”

  Ray finished his biscuit and put his plate in the sink. He slapped his belly and popped his suspenders against his chest. This is what he did before he got to work. “Okay, kiddo.”

  “Okay.”

  Ray nodded and walked out the back door. Rodney finished up his breakfast in two mighty chomps and peeked out the window to make sure Ray had entered the shop. Then he grabbed his backpack and bat and jumped out the back door. He snagged his bike and pushed it out to the rabbit pen. He was going to have to catch Ebenezer and hide him in his backpack until he was down the road. He couldn’t have Ray suspecting anything.

  As Rodney approached the edge of the forest where the pen lay, he heard the rapid-fire chitter of the rabbits. He dropped his bike into the grass and surveyed the damage he’d done to the fence the other day when he had blindly run into it. It looked like Ray might’ve patched it up since his accident. One slat looked brighter than the others.

  Rodney looked over the fence. He saw Thundertrump and Ebenezer facing each other, heads down, like they were about to fight. They yipped back and forth at each other until Jerome offered a stern bark. Both rabbits shook their heads, snorted, and backed away.

  Rodney laid out his backpack, opening its mouth as wide as he could. He unlinked the gate and entered, crouching and cooing, “Come here, Ebenezer. I need to take you on a mission.”

  Without another word the gray rabbit skittered between Rodney’s legs and plopped himself into the backpack. “Whoa. Guess you know what you want,” he said and carefully zipped up the bag. He lifted his bike and threw his leg across the frame. He lodged the head of his bat into the water bottle holder, the handle bumping against his knee, and pushed off toward the gravel driveway.

  He pumped hard through the thick grass, then into the slurry gravel and on into the tunnel of tree limbs. The shade from the trees blunted the heat as he entered. He rode hard, careful not to sling his backpack around. He could feel Ebenezer steadying himself with his paws, balancing his weight while Rodney transported them into the woods.

  At the bridge Rodney dismounted and let the rabbit out, tossing his bat down beside him. The animal waited while he walked his bike down the slope to the river bank and curled it under the bridge out of sight. He scrambled back up the ledge and cleaned his hands.

  “Alright, let’s go,” he said, snagging the bat.

  Ebenezer was already rigid, one paw up, nose pointing upstream. The ground rose as they went eastward toward Skeleton Mount, and Rodney labored to keep up with the darting rabbit. Periodically Ebenezer would pause and sniff the earth like a bloodhound. Sometimes he’d paw a leaf before again pointing rigidly ahead.

  After some time they turned from the river and headed south as if they were heading back to the house. It was hard for Rodney to tell how far east they had gone, but soon the ground sloped away. He expected to wander out into the clearing where they’d started, but as they emerged from the tree cover he noticed three rows of shorter trees. It was the apple orchard east of the Corleonis.

  He remembered picking unripe apples and tossing them at enemy trees and fighter plane birds. That stunt had gotten him banned from the orchard by his mom and dad. His dad even withheld his night-night hug over it. Ray later snuck in a basket of apples, green and as hard as golf balls. “No big deal. Knock yourself out,” he had said.

  He was about to lope out into the open orchard until a rasping noise caught his ear. He hunkered down next to Ebenezer. In the midst of the apple trees he saw a black creature sprawled in the sunlight.

  The little lost demon held out a finger to a butterfly whose daft flutter mesmerized him. He lifted up an apple in his other hand and bit into it. The tartness of the young apple puckered his lips, its sour sucking the moisture from his mouth. He whistled and tempted the butterfly again with his finger.

  The little thing looked harmless despite its grim features. Rodney took a breath, gripped his bat, and stepped out from his hiding place. “Who are you and what are you doing?” he asked.

  The demon stopped and looked at him. He raised himself up on an elbow. “You? You see me?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I am not visible.” At that moment the butterfly landed on his outstretched finger. He gazed at it. “Not visible to you,” he added.

  Rodney frowned. “Yes you are. Now tell me what you’re doing.”

  “The sunshine,” he rasped. “I love the sunshine. I love it.”

  “Yeah,” Rodney said. “It’s nice.”

  “You helped me like sunshine.” In his wide mouth Rodney couldn’t help but notice the sharp, bone-white teeth.

  “Oh yeah? No, uh, problem. My name is Rodney.” He felt like he should move closer, shake hands, but he didn’t move.

  “I am . . . I am . . . ” the demon turned his head to the left. “I am . . . ” his voice trailed off.

  “You were calling yourself Birthless earlier.”

  The demon looked back at Rodney. “I am not Birthless any longer,” he said firmly. “I am . . . . ”

  Rodney took a few steps closer. “Are you looking for a new name?”

  The creature looked up at him eagerly. “Yes, do you have one? Give me a new name.”

  Rodney looked down at his baseball bat. He rubbed a finger along the ridges of its name. “Let’s see, names . . . ” He thought of baseball, he thought of Birthless running in circles, then cartwheeling, he thought of balance, he thought himself spinning around after a wild swing of the bat. A cool wind blew, and Rodney brushed his hair back.

  “I got it.” The demon looked up at Rodney. “Your name could be Pinwheel.”

  The creatures face seemed to split and crinkle into a smile. “Yes, Pinwheel. I am Pinwheel.”

  They stood in the grass as the sun rained down on them. He watched Pinwheel shiver in the morning light.

  “Are you cold?”

  Pinwheel stretched his toes out in the cool grass. “No.” His eyes never stopped moving. It was as though he had never seen this place.

  “Are you outside much during the day?”

  “No, never. Birthless hated sunshine.” He looked up at him. “But I like it.”

  “I can’t believe I’m talking to a real live demon.”

  Pinwheel took two brisk steps toward him. “Pinwheel is not a demon. I am, I am, I am . . . . ” His frustration made Rodney laugh. “I am an angel!”

  “An angel? I’ve never heard of an angel that is black, two feet tall, and hairy.”

  Pinwheel made a sound like a squirrel growling. “Well, I want to be an angel.”

  “Wanting and being are two different things.” Rodney noticed a gray bullet shoot from the tree line. It leapt into the air and struck Pinwheel.

  Pinwheel squealed as Ebenezer sent him toppling to the ground. Before Rodney could do anything the rabbit had pinned Pinwheel with his front paws.

  “A rabbit!” he screamed. “A rabbit’s got me! AHHHH!”

  Rodney tried to brush Ebenezer off of Pinwheel. He wouldn’t budge. It appeared that he was licking Pinwheel.

  Rodney managed to drag the rabbit off the former demon. Pinwheel sputtered and stood. “Diaboloi hate rabbits,” he said.

  Rodney couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s so scary about rabbits?”

  �
��Diaboloi hate rabbits,” Pinwheel repeated quietly.

  “Hold on, what’s a diaboloi?”

  “An accuser, a slanderer, a devil, a demon,” he answered promptly as if he were answering questions in Sunday School.

  “So how do ‘angels’ feel about rabbits?”

  Pinwheel cocked his head to the right. He remembered his new status and said, “We . . . like them?”

  Ebenezer was purring like a cat and nuzzling Pinwheel. He reached out tentatively and gave a hurried stroke on the rabbit’s head.

  “Why do demons hate rabbits?”

  “Because rabbits can see them.” Pinwheel gained courage and wrapped his arms around the furry beast’s head and gave a hug, then a firm scratch behind Ebenezer’s ears.

  “Not everyone can see you . . . or them?”

  “Angeloi and diaboloi choose who can see them, except rabbits; rabbits can always see.”

  He watched him cuddle with the rabbit. “Looks like you have a new friend, Pinwheel.”

  “Yes. Hi, Ebenezer. My name is Pinwheel.”

  “Wha? How’d you know his name?”

  Pinwheel frowned at Rodney. “He told me.”

  Rodney heard a rapid chittering coming from the rabbit. Things had gotten weird so fast. “Come on, you should meet the others,” he said. They walked through the woods, looping around the workshop where Ray labored.

  “I’ve got so many things to ask you, I don’t know where to start.”

  Pinwheel nodded, but was too distracted by trees and bugs and the shafts of light that pierced the canopy of leaves. They arrived at the rabbit pen. Rodney scanned the yard and house before moving.

  There was a flurry of activity inside the pen as they came around. They entered, and Rodney pulled the gate closed behind them. The rabbits gathered around, leaping and nuzzling and making funny little chirping sounds. Pinwheel spoke to the animals and laughed at their responses. Rodney was anxious to get back into the cover of the woods in case Ray came out.

  “Come on, Pinwheel, that’s enough. Let’s talk in the woods where we can’t be seen.”

  “Bye, friends,” he said waving to the rabbits.

  They walked into the woods. His mind was a swirl of questions, but he couldn’t work up a single one. Finally Pinwheel broke in.

  “Two days ago, Birthless ran through here. The light was burning his eyes. He was scared and had hidden from the others after being made subject to the Name. He found a place to hide, a dark hole, a place to curse the sun, the Name, and the adam that had enslaved him.”

  Rodney looked around and noticed the lightning struck tree. “Yeah, I think I came across you that day. You sounded horrible.”

  “Not me,” he responded absently. “Birthless.”

  “Right, sorry.” He rubbed his nose. “Quick question—why do you call humans adams?”

  “Because adam means dirtbag.” He crouched and drew squiggles in the sand.

  “Oh.”

  Pinwheel looked up at him. “I want to be angeloi, Rodney. I don’t want to serve the darkness anymore. Will you tell me how to become one of the Name’s?”

  “What? I don’t know how to do that. I thought you knew all this sort of thing.”

  “Birthless was diabolos. He did not know how to become an angelos.”

  “Can you just say demon and angel? You’re making my head hurt.”

  Pinwheel frowned at him, the ridge of his brow jutting outward. He nodded, but said nothing.

  “Maybe we can ask Ray. I’m thinking it might be time to let him know what’s going on.”

  “Ray, the bearded adam?”

  “Bearded adam? Yeah, I guess. Ray’s my uncle.”

  Pinwheel’s eyes grew big and he took a step back. “No, no we cannot go to him. He is with the diaboloi, I mean the demons.”

  Rodney’s center grew cold and his voice fell to a whisper. “No, I don’t believe it.” Rodney walked over to the twisted tree. He traced his finger down the black burnt scar.

  Pinwheel spoke in a rapid voice, without halts or breaths. “I do not know the whole plan, but after the cruentation of Birthless he was summoned by the bearded adam.”

  “Ray,” he said without turning around. He looked into the pit at the foot of the tree. A root was perched above the hole, as if to cave it in, or else it was slipping into it.

  “Yes, Ray. Birthless went to talk to Ray.”

  Rodney turned. “You—I mean, Birthless talked to Ray? Why?”

  “Ray talks to many of the dia—the demons.”

  “This is too much for me.” He put his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. “And you said after Birthless was cru-something . . . ”

  “Cruentated.”

  “Yeah, right. I’ve seen that word on some blueprints.”

  “The cruentation is the way the demons enter the world.”

  Rodney continued, “But why do they need to enter the world? I thought they were already in it.”

  Pinwheel made a sound like pepper being ground. “When demons are not anchored to the physical world they must fight spiritually with angels, against whom they do not stand a chance. But to enter the world physically, to be tied to matter, would mean they can only be defeated by physical means.”

  “You mean, angels can’t fight a cruentated demon?”

  “No, only mankind.”

  Rodney looked at his hands and then up at Pinwheel. “Can mankind defeat demons?”

  Pinwheel hesitated before replying, “The flesh is weak.”

  Rodney’s eyes fell. “So they’re building an army.”

  “The war in heaven has birthed a war on earth.”

  Despite the heat, Rodney wrapped his arms around himself. “And Ray is helping them.”

  Chapter Eight

  DOOM IS SURE

  Rodney fell against the burnt tree. He couldn’t believe what he’d just learned. Despite what Otis and even Walden had said about Ray, it was hard to believe Ray would be in league with demons.

  Pinwheel studied Rodney’s face. “We must find angels and warn them.”

  “Okay, how do we find angels?”

  Pinwheel looked up blankly, “What? Me? I do not know how to call angels. You are the adam.”

  Rodney twisted his eyebrows. “I don’t know how to talk to angels either. I’ve never even seen a demon before this week.”

  Pinwheel shook his head, obviously displeased.

  Rodney stood and brushed himself off. “Okay, I need to know what I’m dealing with. What does Ray want with me? Why am I here?”

  Pinwheel shrugged. “Do not know. He told Birthless to keep an eye on you.”

  “What for?”

  Pinwheel shrugged.

  “Did he tell you—I mean, Birthless—to scare me?”

  “No. He said to watch over you and leave you alone. But demons tempt and torment, so that is what Birthless did before you spoke the Name.”

  Rodney started walking in the direction of the bridge. Pinwheel followed. “I guess that makes sense. If he wanted me out of the way, he could do it himself. So what’s his plan?”

  Pinwheel shrugged for the umpteenth time.

  They walked through the woods, careful to avoid the patches of sun as the heat of the day rose. After walking silently for a time, Rodney spoke again. “I suppose the only thing to do is to act normal around Ray. Maybe I can call mom and beg her to pick me up again. I can threaten to leave and go with dad. Is that mean?”

  He looked out the corner of his eye and saw the shoulders of Pinwheel slump. “You would abandon me here?” His voice was a soft scraping of glass on glass.

  Rodney was silent again. He hadn’t thought about Pinwheel. He was a former demon in the middle of a brewing war between angels and demons. He was more alone than Rodney was.

  Ahead the trees
thinned, and Rodney could see the curve of the driveway as it headed toward the bridge. “Sorry, Pinwheel. I wasn’t thinking. I guess I can stay and help you find an angel or something.”

  Pinwheel’s wings perked up and even shivered.

  They exited the forest and walked on the gravel until they arrived at the river. “I’ve got to bike into town. I told Ray I’d pick up something for him.”

  “I will come with you.”

  Rodney scrambled down the bank to retrieve his bike. Pinwheel followed. “But won’t you be seen? I would definitely get in trouble if people saw me with a black furry creature.”

  “No one will see me unless they have the eye. You and Ray have the eye. Like rabbits.”

  Rodney pushed his bike up the slope, grunting. He wiped the sweat from his brow and bent low to catch his breath. “So, how did I get the eye?” He looked up, but before Pinwheel could shrug he waved him off. “Never mind, I can guess: you don’t know.”

  Pinwheel affirmed this with his silence. Rodney climbed onto his bike and shoved off down the road. Pinwheel stretched out his wings and gave a mighty flap. He hovered behind Rodney, careful to keep beneath the tree canopy lest he collide with the branches.

  He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about his new ally. As desperate as he was for a friend, he wasn’t quite sure Pinwheel could help him. The creature didn’t seem to know much and certainly didn’t seem brave or strong. But Rodney had to admit that his options were limited.

  Once they were out on the open road, Pinwheel increased his altitude and sailed before Rodney in the bright midday sun. Every now and then Pinwheel would circle back and whisk by him to give a slight boost of wind at his back.

  When they reached the town Pinwheel kept closer. The drugstore was on the main strip. Rodney pulled up and tucked his front tire into the bike rack near the door to the store. He pulled back the door, and Pinwheel alighted on the sidewalk and entered. Rodney realized how strange it was to hold the door for an invisible guest. Fortunately, no one was around to see.

  The drugstore was four aisles of shelves on a white linoleum floor. On the blue walls was a row of photographs, most of them black and white. As Rodney walked down the far left row he saw that they were of Skeleton Mount and a long stone wall which he recognized as the stone snake. The trees had been thicker when the pictures were taken and there had been no barrier between the path and the monument. Several pictures showed children in puffy coats standing atop the effigy and beaming.