by Lee Killough
Garreth watched the door close behind them. “That was...strange. Like maybe he didn’t really hear me.”
Irina shrugged. “How do they say it, he needs time to process information. Or he may be one who goes, okay, now I know, now I forget it. Big thing; Lien accepts you so he does. Be easy. Now...we have work.” She turned off the lights. “That is to make nurse think you are sleeping.” With the room gone moonlight greys, she hopped on the bed and sat cross-legged at the bottom, becoming pixie Steffie again. “Is time to rectify Mada’s neglect and educate you, grasshopper. Pay attention. Test will follow.”
Chapter Thirty-five
He dreamed he stood at the end of a bridge. Where, exactly, confused him. A tree Garreth recognized from the Pioneer Park island in Baumen shaded him from blazing summer sunlight, and the bridge had the wooden planks and cable hand rails of the island’s swinging bridge. But it had widened and lengthened, and intermittently seemed like the Golden Gate Bridge. Wherever it was, a party had begun at the far end, the guests all familiar: the whole Baumen PD, with Maggie and her father up front; Anna and most of the other Biebers; Helen Schoning; Lien, Harry and Girimonte and the rest of the Homicide Detail, including Serruto; Holle’s housekeeper Ms. Kriss. Lively music and conversation floated his way.
He wanted to join them...but the sun burned so bright, so heavy. If only he could find his trooper glasses. He searched through his pockets in vain. Had Lane taken them?
She lounged on the railing of the bandstand behind him, a blood-red dance costume cut to her hip bones showing off her showgirl legs. And yes, she had his glasses, waving them at him by one of the temples. “Do you want these?”
“Yes!”
“Fine.” She glided toward him, holding out the glasses, then several feet away, gave them a toss. “Catch.”
Tossed them high. They sailed over his head. He dashed out to catch them, only to be crushed by the sunlight and reel back into the shade, blinded by pain. The glasses flew into the chasm under the bridge.
She laughed. “Oops. But you don’t really want to go out there. Those humans don’t want you. If they did they’d ask you to join them.”
Which Harry and Lien were. Big sweeping waves invited him their direction.
But it would mean braving sunlight for all that distance...and then what. That end of the bridge was another life, lost to him forever.
Lane’s arms wrapped around him. Her breath kissed his ear. “So ignore them and stay here where it’s comfortable.”
“Do you want comfort or company!”
Irina’s voice...coming from...the bridge? Sure enough, she stood in the middle, hands on her hips...barefoot, hatless.
Lane’s grip on him tightened. “Don’t listen to her.”
“How much do you want be with your friends? You must make your body do what you want, remember?”
Make his body do what he wanted.
Lane dug in her nails, protesting, but he peeled loose and stepped out of the shade. Sunlight hammered him, blinded him. He pushed through it, forcing himself forward. Oddly, the farther went, the weight seemed to lighten.
When he reached Irina, she nodded. “Very good.”
He shook his head. “But the party’s still way down there, where we can’t go.”
“And why must bridge be this long?” The violet eyes bored into him.
Oh.
He raised his hands and began waving wildly. “Hey! Harry, Lien, everyone...come on this way!”
They nodded, and laughing, moved toward him. Bringing the end of the bridge with them. Shortening the span to the width of a four-lane street...with the humans spilling far enough on to it from their end for Irina and him to mix with them. Irina immediately zeroed on Serruto and inveigled him into dancing with her...dancing as a father and daughter might, her feet on top of his. Garreth contented himself with visiting...even with Girimonte.
At one point he glanced toward the Pioneer Island end to catch Lane’s reaction to this. For a moment he thought she lurked in the shade of the tree, then decided he was mistaken and she had left. Her loss, he reflected, and turned back to enjoy the party.
~The End~
About the author
Lee Killough has been storytelling since the age of four, when she began making up her own bedtime stories. About age eleven she discovered and fell in love with science fiction and mysteries in her local library. It being a small library, however, she became terrified of running out of her favorite genres and decided the only way to avoid that was start writing her own. Later, a husband who saw moneymaking potential in what to that point had been a hobby, encouraged her to try for publication. Since her first short story appeared in ANALOG magazine in 1969, she has published numerous short stories, including "Symphony for a Lost Traveler," a 1984 Hugo Award nominee, and had fifteen science fiction, fantasy, and urban fantasy novels in print. Six of those novels and one novella are now e-books and she plans to bring more of her print books to e-book. She has contributed Chapters on paranormal mysteries and creating werewolves to the recently published Complete Guide to Writing Paranormal Novels, which has won Gold in ForeWord Magazine’s 2011 Book of the Year Award for Adult Nonfiction. And she has published an acclaimed chapbook Checking On Culture, an aid to building story backgrounds, which is available from Yard Dog Press. Http://www.yarddogpress.com
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