by Martha Carr
“Not really. Most of this belongs to your family at the bar.” Correk pulled down the knit hat covering his distinctly pointed ears. The spell had worn off and he was too low on stored energy to glamour his ears.
“So much that’s wrong with that description. What about these?” Leira held up the large plastic jug of orange cheese puffs. “You planning to share these? Didn’t think so.”
“They’re back!” yelled Paul. “You have my whiskey?”
Estelle gave a long, hard look at Paul. The ash on the cigarette dangling out of her mouth fell, landing on the bar. She took a damp bar towel and wiped it off, not taking her eyes off Paul.
“Don’t take it that way, Estelle. I have to spend some time at home.”
“Which is why he needs the home stash,” said Craig.
Estelle squinted through the smoke and stepped off the stool she was standing on behind the bar. She turned and went to check on the early diners and the happy hour crowd inside.
“That tiny old lady is very scary,” Mike said.
“Has she actually ever done anything?” asked Paul. “That we know of?”
“There are legends, dude.” Craig shuddered.
Leira balanced a box on her knee while she unlocked the door of the guesthouse.
“You can play with your friends once you help me carry all of this in to the kitchen,” she said.
“Very funny.”
“Leave the troll at home, please.”
“I have probably a hundred years or more on you and have even seen my share of battle.”
“Your point? I’ve seen my share of shootings, stabbings and other nastiness people can do to each other, if we’re comparing notes.”
“I’m past the need for parenting. Besides, I still know more magic than you do and can leave a fireball to hover above you if you keep it up.”
“Point taken,” Leira conceded, opening the door and dropping her purse on the red velvet chair. The wooden blinds were all closed. She wasn’t going to mention his ebbing magic. “But the day is coming when I’ll have a few magic tricks up my sleeve.”
“We can only hope that a little wisdom will come with the new found power.” Correk followed her into the kitchen and put the box down on the kitchen table, and started sorting.
Leira pulled out a new small blue cat bowl and put it on the counter. She grabbed the bag of Purina Cat Chow and poured some in. “What? It’s what we feed our pets on this planet. It’ll be good for him. Too much junk food. I get it. I don’t know the biochemistry of a troll but seriously, old gum, Cheetos and pizza crust can’t be good for any species. Look, it says right on the bag that it’s a balanced diet.” Leira laughed giddily. “This is ridiculous. I’m trying to feed cat chow to a troll from another planet.”
Correk reached in and scooped out the troll who promptly bit his finger. “Moons of Oriceran!” Correk dropped the troll unceremoniously on the counter and watched the creature scramble over to the bowl, settling himself in the middle of the bowl, and shoveling the small triangles into his mouth.
“Well, that’s one way to eat it,” Leira said. “Does that pass as swearing on Oriceran? Moons of Oriceran! Don’t you have anything with a nice hard sound like fuck or something that makes you think of something that stanks like shit? Nothing?”
“Yum fuck!” The troll looked up with a smile, his mouth overflowing with nuggets.
“He gets it, don’t you Yumfuck.”
Correk’s eyes lit up as he focused on his finger, healing it. Leira watched with fascination and relief. He still had some energy left.
“Now, that’s a magic trick that will come in handy. Does it work on humans too?”
“Not as consistently and sometimes with unforeseen consequences.”
“Like what? Some weird polka-dotted rash? Pulsing lights coming out of them? They turn into a zombie?”
“Something like that.”
Leira was surprised. “Oh, wow, I thought for sure you’d basically tell me to zip it, nothing like that. Good to know. No trying to fix humans with magic.”
“A good idea, in general.”
“What about half elves? What can we do for them?”
Correk stopped digging through the boxes in search of the socks for Craig. He looked up at Leira solemnly. “I suppose we are now talking about your mother. Are we talking about using magic to break her out?”
“That and to fix whatever that place may have broken inside of her.”
Correk saw the pain in Leira’s eyes and said nothing, letting her talk. He had already learned that she took her time trusting anyone and avoided ever showing anyone there even was a vulnerable side to her. If she was choosing to trust him, even a little, he was going to be careful not to step on the moment.
“I want to go see her.” Leira let the words hang in the air for a minute. The only sound was the troll plowing through the food in his bowl. He looked up at Leira, sensing her mild distress but she smiled at him and he rolled happily over onto his back, dropping food into his mouth.
“I’ve been avoiding the place. It wasn’t my original intention. It just kind of happened. You let enough time go by and it gets harder to go at all. Besides, when I did go, at some point she always got around to talking about elves and a magical place…”
Correk interrupted her. “And you thought it was proof she was crazy.”
“Yes,” said Leira, softly. “I’m not proud of it but I’ve taught myself to avoid hopeless situations with people I care about.”
“What if I went with you?”
“You’re up for that?”
“My Costco adventure has gotten me just a little deeper in the bar family, the fan club otherwise known as the Leira Society. And yes, before you say anything we have fan clubs on Oriceran. They’re just for real accomplishments like winning at Gringleball or championing a battle. That will even earn you a spot in a child’s hero book.”
“Gringleball?”
“A wonderful game but to your point. You are also half Light Elf, that is very clear and you will learn that we don’t divide ourselves up into smaller and smaller units of family. We are all part of one large family and we show up for each other, good or bad.”
“You have each other’s backs.”
“No, my dear Leira. We, we have each other’s backs. I will go with you to see your mother.”
Leira felt something settle into her chest. A feeling she hadn’t experienced in way too many years. Gratitude.
“Oh crap, I don’t do tears,” she said, brushing away a tear on her cheek.
“Not to spoil the moment, but you’re just intending a visit, right? Not breaking her out.”
Leira turned away from Correk, surprised at how quickly her sadness was replaced with anger. She wasn’t even sure exactly who she was angry with right in that moment. She realized her hands were balled into fists at her side and the troll had stood up in the dish, looking around for the danger.
“He’s like an emotional weathervane. Can’t be in denial about fucking anything with a pocket troll around.”
“I’m not suggesting that we don’t get your mother out of that institution. Not at all. I’m not even saying that we take our time.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“That if we don’t do this by the Earth rules, they’ll just come after her again. It will sit on her record and if she gets stopped by one of your kind in traffic…”
“My kind… a cop.”
“Yes, or ends up in an argument that normally would mean nothing…”
“Someone will see that she was in a hospital and broke out, and put her back in under even tighter security.”
“Yes, and best case your mother will live the rest of her life looking over her shoulder or worst case, die in a hospital under a diagnosis that isn’t true.”
“Not if we break her out and take her to Oriceran through a portal.”
“That means your mother, who’s had no say about her living conditions for fi
fteen years, will once again, even with better intentions, have to deal with what was decided for her.”
Leira clenched her teeth, struggling not to get angrier. This is why I don’t talk about any of this, she thought. Too much pain, too many dead ends.
“There is another way and you and I will find it. Soon. In the meantime, we’ll go and see her. You know, your mother is a magical creature, and if your father’s human, even more than you are.”
“If?”
Correk ignored her question. “There’s a chance she may have some valuable ideas of her own about how to get her out of there that we haven’t thought of. You are her daughter, and I imagine, more alike than you may have been willing to admit in a lot of years.”
The grief in Leira’s chest surged forward, over the tipping point, and the sobs broke out before she could contain them. Correk didn’t hesitate and wrapped his arms around her pulling her in tight as she let out the pain and frustration she had been carrying with her for most of her life.
***
Lois hurried down the hall, trying to get to the Paranormal Defense Force in enough time to warn Patsy the generals were on their way. She checked the cat-shaped watch that was pinned to her sweater, pulling it out on the retractable gold cord to get a better look. She was dressed in her fifties look, complete with poodle skirt and crinolines. It was something she liked to do to break up the monotony of the job. She pushed the sparkly cat-eye glasses back up her nose and looked at the time.
“She’ll be watching those damn Housewives shows right about now.” Lois did her best to pick up her pace, without breaking into a run. She didn’t want to look back at the long, narrow hallway behind her to see who was at the other end, but she knew it wouldn’t look good to the humans if she was in too big of a hurry.
She burst through the door of the PDF out of breath and sweating, startling Patsy who bit down hard on a piece of deep dish pizza. The sauce squirted out, splashing Patsy in the face.
“Oh, for the love of all things magical! Moons of Oriceran! What has got you rushing in here like that? I told you I’d save you a good two pieces! I know how you love deep dish. Although, I have to tell you, they do it better in Chicago. Must be something in the water when they make the dough. All that good Chicago River water.”
Lois took in a gulp of air, waving her hands around, rolling her eyes.
“Are you having a fit? It’s hard to tell in that getup. Is that a dance? This whole act has really progressed. Next thing you know, you’re going to be dragging a karaoke machine in here.”
Lois finally caught her breath and whipped out her wand, tempted to first use it on Patsy to shut her up. She quickly thought better of that. “Brass is on their way and they look determined,” she said, waving her wand to change over the virtual magic readout from the Housewives of Orange County to incoming data about magical activity.
“Huh, there’s a little blip in Arizona. Wonder what that’s about,” said Patsy, wiping off her face. She licked each of her fingers, slid her paper plate into the box, and shoved the whole thing under a pile of papers.
She turned back toward the glowing green symbols flying across the room, and Patsy tucked away her wand, just as four men in full military dress came through the door.
“As you were,” said the small man in the lead. He took off his hat, revealing a small tuft of dark hair on the very top of what was mostly a shiny, bald head.
Patsy gave Lois a look, rolling her eyes. She never took it well when humans told her what to do, even though she’d been in a government job for years.
“Can we help you?” asked Lois, doing her best to ignore Patsy. She adjusted her glasses, giving her a moment to take in the four men who were busy doing variations on the Wonder Woman stance, hands on hips, their heads back, looking around the room.
“Do I smell pizza?”
Lois heard Patsy quietly say, “Never was…” and moved in front of her, glaring at her. “What if we need that again in just a minute,” she whispered, leaning over, pretending to pick something up so she could get closer to Patsy. “Save the big guns,” she hissed. “We don’t even know why they’re here!”
“Ladies,” said the diminutive General. “I trust all is well.” He gestured at the symbols.
Patsy mumbled a spell under her breath, making the symbols suddenly spin apart and swirl around the general’s arm, giving the distinct impression he had mucked up the system by getting too close.
Even Lois had a hard time not smiling. She ducked her chin down, pressing her glasses back up her nose, stealing glances at the general who looked flummoxed, even panicked. Lois gave Patsy another sharp look to get her to stop before the joke went on too long. Humans. They don’t have a very good sense of humor about themselves, thought Lois. Eventually they bring out weapons and these guys actually have access to an armory.
“Brahawa,” babbled the general, trying to get out words. He cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut. Patsy finally cut it out and let the feed restore itself, humming along over everyone’s head. The general opened his eyes and saw the feed was restored. He looked relieved. Lois gave him a reassuring smile.
“Can we help you?” she asked again.
He cleared his throat, again. So far, they weren’t making any progress. The men with him all shuffled their feet and looked around, not making eye contact with anyone. Patsy was smirking and saying nothing, letting them squirm. Meddling humans brought out the worst in her. She stuck her tongue out at Lois while no one was looking. Lois almost laughed but tried to cover it up, making a sound resembling a honk. Her face warmed as Patsy raised a few papers in front of her face, her shoulders shaking from holding in the giggles.
“Yes, yes,” the general finally said. “We are here to see what you have on a particular magical woman. A Detective Leira Berens. We understand she’s an unaffiliated magical person. Do you have a file?”
“A file?” asked Patsy, getting up from her chair.
“Oh great,” Lois muttered under her breath.
“No, but I can make you one?” Her question was just for show. She was already in mid-spell, moving her wand theatrically through the air. Lois took note that she started with ‘alakazam,’ not a spell, before finally performing actual magic.
The generals watched in awe as the screen split lengthwise and opened. Data poured from the opening, spiraling down, and into Patsy’s wand. She walked to the copier shoved against the wall, though not plugged in, and tapped her wand against the top of it, causing it to shudder and shimmy and roar to life. It began spitting out pages into four collated piles, which Patsy was happy to snatch up and hand out to the men. All of them stood there slack-jawed, barely able to take the papers from her.
Lois wanted to applaud. None of it was really necessary. They had everything on a drive and could have just handed that over to the general and let him download it later the old-fashioned way. But where was the fun in that?
“Thank you, ladies,” the general said nervously. Lois noticed the papers were shaking in his hand. The men all mumbled some form of thank you, and together they quickly shuffled back out of the room.
Lois waited a few seconds and then peeked out of the door to make sure they were far enough away.
“You should be more careful! One of these days they’re going to remember how fond they are of burning witches at the stake or dissecting aliens. We technically fit in both categories!”
“You and I were both born here. Calm down.”
“They rewrite what makes you an alien every other day, to suit their fancy!”
“Besides, if they did try we’d turn them into toads. Something old school. We were never in any danger. Bonus to all of this, they once again fear and respect us and will think long and hard before they ask for more information. I think we acted prudently.”
“You going to tell your cousin in the Order about this?”
“Already texted her. Done and done. If the government is looking for Leira Berens, the
Order needs to warn her. We watch out for our own.”
“When we’re not arresting them ourselves.”
“Yeah, well, that’s another story.”
CHAPTER SIX
“We all need to get out tonight!” Craig was eating nachos and swilling a beer.
“We are out,” Estelle croaked from the other end of the bar. She was busy giving a young couple at the other end of the bar two shots of tequila, telling them they didn’t really want martinis. Smoke swirled around her head, making it difficult to see her face.
“I mean go hear some music,” said Craig.
“You better slow down on those nachos, dude. Remember what happened the last time,” said Paul.
“Yeah, you went home and passed out, had acid reflux in your sleep, stood up, had an asthma attack and passed clean out. Your dog had to wake you up!” Margaret ticked off all the maladies on the end of her fingers. “Death by nachos is not what you want Facebook to say.”
“How would Facebook even find out?”
“I’d tell them,” said Mike.
“Yeah, me too,” said Mitzi. “That one would go viral, especially if we could get pictures.”
“Fine! I’ll slow down! Hey, Bert, you have my tube socks?”
Correk was carrying an old cardboard box stamped Del Monte Tomato Paste. It was overflowing with the tube socks balanced on the top. He was using his chin to keep everything inside of the box.
Leira followed him, carrying the Oreos.
“I see you have your priorities straight,” Paul said, taking the cookies from her. “Was there any change?”
“Paul!” A chorus went up from the group.
“What? Okay, okay, carrying fees. But was there?”
“Don’t answer him,” Mike ordered. Correk put the change on the bar.
“Ah, good man. You do know us!” said Paul, lunging toward the money to count it out.
“He knows you,” said Mitzi.
“Leira, we all want to go out tonight. You should come. We’ll go hear a little music down on 6th Street,” Craig said.
“Sure, why not.”
