Messiah of Burbank - An Urban Fantasy

by Paul Neuhaus

  At first, silence met the brunette’s words. Finally, a tiny voice echoed out of the empty darkness. “Aunt Molly?”

  “Yes, honey, it’s me. Follow the sound of my voice.”

  The tiny little-girl voice again dopplered the stillness. It sounded desperate and afraid. “Where are you? I can’t see you.”

  Molly became a light. A beacon in the dark. “Here I am. Can you see me?”

  “Yes! I see you! I’m coming to you!”

  The Molly inside Josie’s head raised her arms to accept the lost girl. She was sure she had won out against the monstrous forces raging through the teenager’s body.

  Then she was buffeted from without and she lost her fix on the girl.

  As soon as Quinn realized Molly was no longer with her, she unleashed a horrific barrage of both ice and fire at Nisha. Needles of ice penetrated the Deva. Whips of fire wrapped around her and burned her with their ever-tightening embrace. “Look at you,” Henaghan said. “You must be a fraction of your former self. You’re withered, battered and beaten. You’re not a goddess. You’re not even a crusader for a cause. You’re pathetic and weak and wrong.”

  Nisha fell backward trailing smoke and frost. She raised a series of disc-shaped shields to fend off Quinn’s attacks. Quinn shattered them all one at a time. At last she dove for the hole in the base of the chamber. The hole the birds had come through.

  The birds finished consuming Josie’s Vidyaadhara and they too dove for the fissure. They were faster than Nisha and they filled the hole with thousands of tiny bodies, plugging it tightly. Nisha didn’t even bother to become vapor. The exit she wanted to use was sealed. She veered off instead toward the tunnel Aisling had used to reach her thousands of years before. Quinn split the wall above the exit and rocks came falling down, sealing the way shut. Henaghan was pleased with her handiwork—not only could the Deva not escape via that route, no one would ever have access to the Womb of the World again.

  Nisha was growing frantic, but she darted toward the center of the room with renewed purpose. She knew what she would do next. She would consume Josie and use her power to heal. As the Deva descended over the helpless girl, Henaghan realized how like a spider Nisha was. A sinister insect feeding on the essences of others. She also understood, all at once, a certain irony: Nisha was just as addicted to eating her victims as her victims were addicted to Caress. As little trails of smoke-like ectoplasm rose from Josie toward Nisha, Nisha was exultant. “Even if you kill me, I’ll have them both! These women you love, one inside the other. I’ll have them both!”

  Then a sound came, so loud and so defiant that it startled Quinn and Nisha both. It was not one voice but two and they said, “Bullshit!”

  Josie’s eyes popped open and they glowed with a strange inner light. A tear in the fabric of reality opened behind Nisha and more phantasms came through. This time, however, they didn’t come after Quinn, they made a beeline for Nisha’s back and slammed into her.

  Quinn’s birds rose up from the fissure in the floor and swarmed around the Deva, pecking at her and clawing her with their talons.

  Through the chaos, Josie reached up and grabbed Nisha, pulling her downward into a tight embrace. Even as the Deva moved closer to the girl, the Deva began to change. She began to solidify. Her movements became restricted. She knew what was happening to her and she struggled but the weight of the phantasms and the birds pressed her closer and closer to Josie.

  As soon as Molly rejoined her in the bubble, Quinn knew what to do. She gathered maya to her (though she knew it wouldn’t take much). She waited and watched for Josie to complete her work.

  Josie completed her work.

  Quinn blew an icy wind toward the teenager and the white shape in the girl’s arms exploded, raining sugar down upon her.

  The Vidyaadhara and the blue birds shot through the space the Deva had once occupied, arcing up and away from Josie. Spent, Josie collapsed onto the altar. As soon as the girl lost consciousness, the Womb of the World dissolved away. Quinn and Molly both fell down onto their tailbones in an empty room at 119 Mulholland.

  Between them was Josie, still asleep and still covered with sugar.

  Quinn and Molly both bent forward to check on Josie. Both were relieved to find the girl’s breathing was shallow but growing in strength. They didn’t embrace; they didn’t congratulate one another. They were far too tired. They did, however, share the briefest of knowing smiles.

  “Do you want me to carry her?” Molly said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’m bigger than you so maybe I should be the one to carry her.”

  “And then what happens?”

  “I dunno. I guess we get a cab or an Uber or something.”

  The redhead smiled. “Or I could just do this…” In an instant they were both sitting on the edges of Josie’s bed in the Burbank house and Taft was lying peacefully between them.

  Once they were back in their home, Molly sighed and said, “Yeah, just do that.” She readjusted the cloth over her eye and said, “Would you believe I forgot you were a wizard for a second?”

  Henaghan fell back onto the bed so she was lying next to Josie. Molly crawled up so the two women were lying with the girl between them. “Get some sleep now,” Quinn said. “We may not be able to here shortly.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The redhead didn’t answer so Molly tried to go to sleep. She didn’t have to try very hard.

  11

  Nuclear

  Josie’s withdrawal from Caress was difficult but not as difficult as Quinn expected. It was certainly not as bad as some of the depictions of quitting heroin she’d seen in the movies. Over the course of a little more than twenty-four hours, she and Molly kept Taft hydrated and soothed her in whatever ways they could. The girl was sometimes able to fight off the pain and the cravings long enough to sleep for an hour or two. Blank and Henaghan felt good about their efforts. If they could get Josie through the rapids, they wouldn’t have to worry about a relapse. During the withdrawal, none of them bathed and they rarely ate. They were all diminished and specter-like by the end. Quinn knew they’d succeeded when Molly said, “It’s out of her now. I can feel it.” At that time, Josie was already in a deep sleep and her two aunts followed suit.

  Henaghan only got a half an hour before her iPhone rang.

  Quinn looked down at her phone screen and did not recognize the number of the caller. She answered anyway and the woman on the other end said, “Hi? Quinn? It’s Quinn, right?

  “Yes,” the redhead said, still confused. “This is Quinn. Quinn Henaghan.”

  “Right. Yeah. Hey, this is Tanya. Josie’s mother. Would you talk to me for a minute?”

  Henaghan said, “Yes. Yes, of course.” She glanced at Molly and Josie and stepped out onto the front lawn to get some privacy. “What can I do for you, Tanya?”

  “What can you do for me? Just listen to me talk for a minute. I’m gonna say a long thing and I hope it makes sense.”

  “Go ahead…”

  The Canadian spoke in a continuous stream without taking a breath. “Look, Josie’s not a normal baby, you know that. Glen knew what she was. Right away. A Changeling. We made arrangements. She was born off the grid. No one knows about her. No one can know about her. She can’t get a social security card. She can’t get a driver’s license. She can’t go to school. I mean, it’s a trip, you know? How do you even deal with that? How do you explain that she’s less than two years old yet she’s big enough to drive a car? You don’t know me, but I can tell you: I’m a broken person. I know that. There’s no getting around it. I don’t think I’ve been completely sober in something like five years. I tried to give myself an identity by chasing after Channelers. It was… bad judgement. I’m… walking bad judgement. The other thing I know is that Glen’s gone, and I can’t palm Josie off on him anymore. But… I’m up here, trying to dry out and it’s not working because I’m weak and my mother’s an enabler. Would you take ca
re of Josie for me? Would you take care of her? We can’t go through channels. We have to stay off of the grid. We can’t involve lawyers. I can send you a paper, though. A paper with my permission and my wishes. Glen told me about you. He told me about how you are. Josie’d be so much better off with you. Will you do that for me? Will you take my girl and protect her?”

  Quinn sighed and gathered her thoughts. Finally, she said, “I can’t do that, Tanya. Not without Josie’s knowledge. Not without her consent. At some point, you need to get to know your daughter. She’s a bright, thoughtful person. If I put her on the phone, will you talk to her? Will you tell her what you need?”

  The pause was even longer than it’d been when Quinn was formulating her response. Henaghan could only imagine the thoughts warring against one another in Tanya’s head. At last, Tanya said, “Yes. Would you put her on the phone?”

  Quinn reentered the home and went to Josie’s bedroom. The girl was still drawn and pale, but she was sitting up. The redhead handed her the phone and Taft took it. “Hello?” she said.

  Henaghan gathered Molly up, escorted her from the room and shut the door behind her.

  Molly and Quinn sat down in the chairs facing the couch. They felt like wrung-out dishrags and looked it. Neither spoke. They just sat there, breathing shallowly and enjoying the quiet. Both were startled when the television came on.

  Josie, still in the outfit she’d worn at 119 Mulholland, came out, handed Quinn her iPhone without comment and plopped down on the couch. She’d turned on the TV and changed the channel to Discovery. She was immediately pleased with the result. “Silkworms!” she enthused. “Score.”

  Henaghan and Blank looked up with half-lidded eyes, first at Josie then at one another.

  “Hey,” Josie said, without looking away from the television. “Do we have any sugar cubes?”

  Quinn started to say something about addiction, but sugar cubes were a concession she could make if Josie stayed off anything harder. The redhead tried to stand but her legs gave out and she fell back into her chair. Molly was even less successful in her efforts to rise. “Get ‘em yourself,” she said.

  Josie stood up. “Okay, mom.”

  Epilogue - Suburbia

  Quinn asked David to release her from her work as consultant and David agreed. As far as Quinn was concerned, Olkin had Fleur-de-lys’ affairs well in hand. She didn’t want to know any more about what Reginald Verbic had been up to during his long Los Angeles career. She already knew quite enough. The end of the business arrangement, however, did not mean an end to the corresponding breakfast. The agent still came over for morning meals twice a week with the only difference being that now he brought Mia.

  As Quinn, Josie, David and Mia settled in around the table, Molly filled each person’s plate with home cooked fare. Henaghan leaned toward her former boss. “Did I hear you asked the Tilted to relocate to L.A.?”

  Olkin picked up a biscuit and a bowl of orange marmalade. “You did. Do you wanna know what the biggest controversy was? It wasn’t that I used to be Resolute or that San Francisco is a cooler city than Los Angeles. Or that L.A. just had a major earthquake. It was about pastrami.”

  Josie laughed. “Pastrami? What does that mean?”

  “Tilted Headquarters in San Fran is below a deli. They didn’t want to move because of the pastrami. Actually, when I went up there to hash things out, they took me for a sandwich. I had the pastrami.”

  “And?” Quinn said.

  “It was really good fucking pastrami,” Olkin enthused.

  Mia shoved her boyfriend’s shoulder. “Could you not? There’s a child present.”

  David turned to Josie. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

  The girl dug into her scrambled eggs and country sausage. “Fer real. I’m not even two years old. Shithead.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “You know, I make my own pastrami,” Molly said as she sat down.

  Quinn rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.” She looked at the others. “She also makes her own croutons.”

  Blank acted as though that was no big thing. “The store-bought ones are crap,” she said.

  David spoke around a mouthful of biscuit. “If you make me some homemade pastrami, I’ll be your friend forever.”

  “Pastrami, check. Does anybody else have any special orders? I can make just about anything. As long as it doesn’t involve depth perception.”

  “No fancy cakes with parallax,” Henaghan said, moving her head from side to side. Molly wadded up a napkin and threw it at her girlfriend. Dodging, Quinn took a present from the empty chair next to her and passed it across the table to Blank. It was a cast-iron skillet wrapped in a yellow ribbon. The ribbon matched Molly’s pretty, yellow eyepatch.

  “What’s this?” Molly said.

  “It’s a skillet,” Quinn replied. “Boy, for being such a whiz in the kitchen, you’re really not up on the lingo.”

  “But I already have a cast-iron skillet,” the brunette said, confused.

  “Not for the van.”

  “What van?”

  “The catering van. You’re going into the craft services business. You’re gonna cook for film crews and actors, and you’re gonna do it under the name Sexy Pirate Eats.”

  Molly stared dumbly at the skillet then at the people assembled around her table. “Holy shit,” she said finally. “That’s actually a pretty good idea.”

  Quinn winked at her. “Yeah, it’s almost like you’re not the greatest cook in the world and I came up with it out of thin air.”

  The brunette got up, came around the table and plopped down in Henaghan’s lap and, after pretending to bonk her on the head with the skillet, kissed her long on the mouth.

  In time, it was Josie’s turn to throw a napkin. “Get a room already! Jeeze!”

  Molly got up and happily rounded the table again to her place. After she was seated, she said to Quinn, “I love you. Even though you put out my eye.”

  “Get used to that phrase, folks,” Quinn said. “You’re gonna be hearing it until we’re all old and gray.”

  “I’m already old and gray,” David said.

  Mia spoke up, addressing her sister. She was meek at first, but she grew more confident when she saw the kindness in Quinn’s eyes. “You’re retiring, aren’t you? Getting out of the magic game. What’re you gonna do with your time?”

  “Good question,” the elder Henaghan replied. “I’m not sure. As of right now, I can only think of two things that’d catch my fancy. I wanna help Molly with her business and I wanna write. Over the last year, I’ve lost track of myself a little. Writing was always something I did that I felt good about.”

  “What’re you gonna write?” David said.

  “I have no earthly idea.”

  “Let me know when you figure it out. American Consolidated’s got a helluva literary department.”

  “Mister, you got a deal,” Quinn said, raising her orange juice in a toast.

  As David and Mia left, they thanked Molly for the meal. David was almost out when a skittish Mia doubled back and shyly said to Quinn, “I wanna go shopping tomorrow. At the Grove. Just to, you know, do something normal. Will you go shopping with me? At the Grove? Tomorrow? And be normal?”

  Molly winked at Quinn with her one good eye. Quinn smiled. “I… would love to go shopping at the Grove with you tomorrow. On one condition: You buy lunch.”

  “No,” Mia said, her eyes lighting up. “How about we go early, and we get pancakes. I wanna buy us a shit-ton of pancakes. At DuPar’s.”

  “I… would love to eat a shit-ton of pancakes with you. Tomorrow. At the Grove.”

  Mia gave a little clap and spun on her heels to rejoin her boyfriend. Over his shoulder, David waved and mouthed the words “thank you”.

  When they were gone, Molly said, “I have a good feeling about that.”

  Quinn shrugged. “Yeah, it’s shopping and a shit-ton of pancakes.”

  “No,” Molly said. “About David and Mia.
They’re finally cute together.”

  Across the table from her aunts, Josie sulked. “I wanna go shopping and eat pancakes,” she said.

  “Maybe next time,” Henaghan replied. “This one’s about sisterly bonding.”

  After their company left, the three residents of the house in Burbank sat around the table wallowing in their own lethargy. It’d been a rough week. Josie was the one to finally break the silence. “I wanna thank you two guys,” she said.

  Quinn smiled. “Josie, you have a home here as long as we have a home here.”

  Taft shook her head. “No, not for that, although, obviously, thanks for that, too. I meant for coming after me. I… stopped being Josie for a while and you looked past that, and you wouldn’t let me go. You came after me and it means a lot.”

  Molly held out her hand over the table and said, “Josie, we will always come after you.” The girl took the woman’s hand and the woman squeezed.

  “You know what I was most freaked out by?” Josie said. “Way down deep in the deepest part of myself.”

  “What?” Quinn asked, leaning forward.

  Taft took a breath. “I was afraid that I’d become my mother. That I’d thrown away everything for a stupid feeling. And it was like a dog chasing its own tail. I took Caress to spite myself and I knew it. Really fucking stupid.”

  “Huh,” Henaghan said. “I don’t know what Molly’s therapist would say, but you sound to me like someone who got addicted to something and came out on the other side saner and more grounded.”

  “Actually,” Molly added. “Knowing my therapist as I do, I think that’s exactly what she would say.”