Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo

by Obert Skye

  “Go.”

  “I will—”

  “Geth’s right,” Garnock interrupted. “We will have to ascend slowly and there’s always the possibility that the Baadyn will grow bored and not stick around.”

  “I’m not leaving Geth.”

  “Fate holds him now,” Garnock said, nodding towards two of his Waves to stick with Geth. “We must get you to safety.”

  “Go,” Geth said again, pulling his arm back into the hole. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Leven could only see Geth’s right eye and a bit of his mouth. But Geth appeared to be wearing the same expression of wonder and amazement that he always did.

  “I’ll see you up top,” Leven said as he started to drift slowly up and away.

  “Of course,” Geth hollered back.

  Leven watched Geth’s eye grow smaller and smaller until he could no longer catch sight of it. The only thing he could make out was a gigantic stone mountain quickly collapsing on the bottom of the Veil Sea.

  Leven rose slowly. He closed his eyes and tried to see the future. There was nothing.

  Chapter Eight

  Leaning Too Far One Way

  Have you ever thought about painting it?” Clover asked. “I mean, you could take a weekend and get a few friends to help.”

  “She’s just fine,” Angus insisted. “Why cover up what she is?”

  “I’m really good at painting stars.”

  “Paint a star on my boat and you’ll be swimming home,” Angus threatened.

  “It’s called character,” Clover argued back. “And if ever some-one—”

  Clover was interrupted by Winter rising from the water. A large Wave pushed her up, lifting her like a watery goddess from the great depths. The Wave raised Winter up over the rail and set her down on the deck. The Baadyn around her head slipped down and oozed off the boat like a wad of snot. Winter steadied herself and looked at the Wave.

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” the Wave bubbled, slipping back down into the water.

  A smaller Wave lifted Phoebe out of the water and up onto the ship. She shook her head and her hair appeared to dry instantly. Her smile seemed almost too big for her face, and her eyes blinked slowly open and closed. Angus took off his felt hat and stared at her.

  Clover leapt up onto Winter. “Wow. You guys got her?”

  Winter nodded and shivered.

  Leven began to rise from the water. Garnock had him on his shoulder lifting him above the rail and onto the stern. Leven jumped from Garnock and pulled at the Baadyn covering his head. The Baadyn stretched and popped off with a wet snap. Leven shook his dark wet hair and tossed the Baadyn back into the water. He turned to Garnock.

  “You have to go after him,” Leven ordered. “He’s gotta get out.”

  “He will,” Garnock said calmly, his voice the sound of soft running water. “The Waves will stick with him.”

  “What’s going on?” Winter asked.

  “Geth’s still down there,” Leven said. “I’m going back.”

  “That would be foolish,” Garnock said sternly. “You should be in seclusion. You’re vulnerable, and your death will help nothing.”

  “It could help Geth.”

  “Fate holds him—”

  “I know, I know, fate holds him now,” Leven said quickly. “But I’m not standing around waiting to see what fate does.”

  “The Waves will stay by him.”

  “I’m not leaving this spot until we have him.” Leven held his ground.

  As if on cue, the water began to churn and Geth rose out. Two fat Waves were holding Geth by his arms. The Baadyn around Geth’s head slipped like runny phlegm back into the water.

  Leven and Winter pulled Geth over the rail and onto the deck. Geth flopped down against the floor, coughing and spitting. Leven pushed his wet hair out of his own eyes and smiled. He kneeled down by Geth as the other Waves moved back behind Garnock.

  “That was fast,” Leven said.

  “I said I’d be right behind you,” Geth grinned. “The Waves were quick to find another exit. Thank you so much, Garnock.”

  “We would sooner leave another Wave,” Garnock said. “Good-bye, Leven.”

  Garnock nodded and shrank back into the water. The other Waves did the same, meshing into the foaming mass of gaunt faces and waves. Garnock’s face disappeared and the sea boiled as the Waves slowly rolled away in massive, thundering humps.

  Everyone turned and looked at Phoebe at once.

  “Phoebe,” Leven said. “Are you all right?”

  “I am now,” she said, blinking rapidly. “How kind of you to come for me.”

  “You’re a longing,” Geth said.

  Phoebe smiled and the air in Foo suddenly seemed crammed with oxygen.

  “There aren’t any left,” Geth whispered.

  “There’s one,” Phoebe said teasingly.

  “A longing on my boat,” Angus said in disbelief.

  Phoebe touched Angus on the cheek. Angus stumbled backwards. He would have fallen right into the sea if it had not been for the rail.

  Phoebe turned to Leven. “Thank you.”

  Leven’s face burned red. “Don’t mention it.”

  Phoebe smiled and began to lift off the ground. She rose higher and large translucent wings unfolded behind her, catching the soft wind.

  “I should go,” she sang.

  “Wait,” Geth said, sounding like an adolescent teen. “Where are you going?”

  “Everywhere,” Phoebe answered. She smiled and the temperature in Foo warmed. She reached out and brushed Geth’s arm.

  “A lithen,” she said, blinking. “How wonderful.”

  “Geth,” Geth said.

  “Of course.” She laughed. “I’ll be back, Geth.”

  Geth opened his mouth but couldn’t say anything.

  Phoebe smiled again, then fluttered her wings and drifted away. A few moments later she was out of view.

  “Wow,” Angus said.

  “More like uh-oh,” Geth said, finding his voice again. He looked at Angus. “Get us to Cusp as fast as possible. I mean it.”

  “But . . .”

  “Now,” Geth insisted.

  Angus hurried away.

  “A longing?” Geth said urgently, turning to look at Leven.

  “What?” Leven answered defensively. “I knew she was in trouble and I had to help. Clover told me to.”

  “Right,” Winter half-smiled. “It’s Clover’s fault.”

  “I gotta agree with Winter,” Clover chimed in. “First of all, I don’t remember saying anything, and second, Phoebe’s too pretty to be someone you simply save.”

  “Your grandfather gave you that key to her cage?” Geth asked.

  “Right before he died,” Leven said, confused. “He said I would need it.”

  “What a weak soul,” Geth cursed. “He’s left Foo a mess that only conflict will clean up. And releasing a longing will make things messier. Yes, yes, I realize she’s beautiful—I’m not blind. Your grandfather was a coward to leave all of this to you. I think you might be wise to hide the sycophant key someplace besides around your neck and don’t tell anyone—or even think about—where. Okay? Not even us. You have to keep it a secret.”

  “Are you okay?” Winter asked Geth. “You’re kind of all over the place.”

  Geth put his head in his hands, his blue eyes looking confused against the clear sky. Leven sat down on a wooden barrel half filled with purple apples. He laced his fingers together behind his head and leaned over. Clover patted him on the shoulder.

  “It’s not easy being the Want,” Clover said calmly, making excuses for his burn. “So you let Phoebe out. We all make mistakes.”

  “It’s so confusing,” Leven admitted. “I can’t see anything but what’s in front of me. My eyes are burning, but I can’t see the future. I close my eyes and all I can see is darkness. I open my eyes and I see lights creeping into the corner of my view.”

&nbs
p; “You’re settling,” Geth said. “The mantle of the Want takes time to assume.”

  “I didn’t want this.” Leven wiped his forehead. “I didn’t ask to come here and be buried by the seemingly impossible. My hands are bigger, I’m taller, but I feel insignificant.”

  “You’re not,” Geth insisted. “Azure and the Dearth will pay and what you stepped into Foo to accomplish will come to pass.”

  “You’re going to be okay,” Winter said reassuringly.

  “You don’t understand,” Leven snapped.

  “What don’t I understand?” Winter’s voice was stern. “Sorry you feel bad, but it’s not like you just met a person so beautiful that now you feel completely worthless.”

  “What?” Leven said. “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw the way you all fell over yourselves to stare at her.”

  “That was Geth.”

  “Don’t argue, you two,” Geth said.

  “We’re not arguing.” Leven felt light-headed.

  “No,” Winter confirmed. “We’re just . . .”

  Winter looked at Leven. Leven looked right back at her. Winter’s cheeks burned red and her green eyes outshone Leven’s. The two of them stared at one another and then, as if they were destined to, they began to lean into one another. Leven closed his eyes.

  “What are you doing?” Geth asked, concerned.

  Winter closed her eyes too and leaned closer. Both of them looked panicked and out of control, but it didn’t stop them from moving closer and kissing each other.

  Clover’s jaw dropped and he pulled something out of his void just so he could let go of it in shock. Even Geth looked caught off guard, as if he’d been given news that he never thought he’d hear in his lifetime.

  Leven stumbled back and looked at Winter. His face was almost as red as hers. He looked at Geth and Clover and then back to Winter.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Clover said happily.

  “I don’t know what . . .” Leven tried to say.

  “No, I . . .” Winter said. “It’s not you . . . it’s just that my . . . I think I left something down below.”

  “Hold on,” Geth said, stopping Winter. “You don’t understand. It’s not just you. Her effect—it’s already taking hold.”

  “Whose effect?” Clover asked.

  “Phoebe’s,” Geth answered. “With her release, all of Foo will begin to grow more feeling and . . . well, more passionate.”

  Winter cleared her throat and continued to blush. Leven looked at his feet.

  “Even Azure,” Geth added. “If things were heating up before, it’s only going to get worse. We’ve got no time to waste now.”

  Geth hurried below.

  “Wait up,” Clover yelled. “I need . . . well, I don’t really need anything, but I just don’t want to be alone with these two.”

  “I really should go below also,” Winter said.

  “Why?” Leven asked. “Because of what happened? I mean, that’s just because of Phoebe. It’s not like we really kissed. Well, we kissed, but it wasn’t because we wanted to.”

  Winter smiled awkwardly.

  “I mean, I didn’t wake up this morning planning to kiss you,” Leven explained.

  “Don’t worry,” Winter said, her wet blonde hair making her look smaller and more vulnerable than she usually did.

  “I feel like a jerk for some reason,” Leven admitted. “Or kind of like I’m going to pass out.”

  “Either way you should probably lie down,” Winter said.

  Leven squeezed the back of his neck with his right hand and sighed.

  “Go lie down,” Winter insisted. “Because I’m thinking I might try to kiss you again if you don’t. I mean, Phoebe’s out.”

  Leven looked at her. He had never realized how pretty she was.

  “You released her,” Winter smiled.

  Leven stood up very slowly and reluctantly walked below. The Plud Hag turned and headed up towards Cusp.

  Chapter Nine

  Don’t Fear the Reaper

  Ezra paced across the top of the dresser, wringing his hands. His purple plastic toothpick top twisted in the wind of the air conditioner and his green nail-polished body glistened under the pungent glow of the motel’s neon sign dripping through the window. Ezra scratched his forehead with his thin wooden tail and clapped his hands angrily. It sounded like a tiny click.

  “Something’s different,” he hissed. “Something’s wrong. I feel different all of a sudden.”

  “Could it be from the fact that the world is falling apart?” Dennis asked. “I saw tanks rolling through the streets today. Everyone’s scared of the bugs and clouds and buildings.”

  “I didn’t say something’s different about the world,” Ezra snapped. “I feel different.”

  Dennis blinked, his eyes tired from staring out the window. He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at Ezra.

  “You don’t look different—aside from the fact that you’re a toothpick and all.”

  Dennis had a tendency to speak his own mind these days. With Sabine out of his system he was back to being a simple-minded janitor with wrinkle-free pants and a white shirt. There were traces of black, shadowy lines up and down his arms and body and shaved head, but they were faded, and his mind was mostly clear and open. And the things he had been through gave him a new courage to speak.

  Dennis had followed Ezra across the world and back again. They had flown in planes, driven in cars, and crossed the ocean in a large, smelly boat operated by an abusive Russian crew. Dennis had heeded every order Ezra had barked, lifted every object, and done everything the deranged toothpick had ever asked. Now, however, he was tired and wishing that whatever Ezra was experiencing or feeling wouldn’t translate to Dennis’s having to work any harder or worry any more than he had recently.

  After sailing across the ocean they had arrived in North Carolina. From there they had hitchhiked to where they currently were—in Oklahoma waiting for someone neither of them knew, but hopeful that whoever it was would be able to help.

  “I feel weird,” Ezra snapped. “Sick, even.”

  “Sick like throwing up?” Dennis asked.

  “Sick like throwing up,” Ezra mocked. “No, sick like my insides are all girlie.”

  Ezra looked shocked at his own words.

  “Girlie?” Dennis asked, surprised.

  “Don’t say it!”

  “You did.”

  “I am the one with the girlie insides,” Ezra snipped, his one eye blinking rapidly. “I can say what I want.”

  The motel room was silent except for the sound of the air conditioner. Two doors down a car horn honked and somewhere far away the sound of sirens could be heard.

  “Are you sure they’re staying here?”

  Ezra sighed.

  “We’ve been waiting all day,” Dennis continued. “Maybe they weren’t really kicked out of their apartment. Maybe they aren’t living here now.”

  Ezra’s back tightened as a new knot seemed to grow on his tiny spine.

  “You are a swollen pig,” Ezra spit. “I would give my left hand, single eye, and all of my pointed toes to have that other idiot back—what’s his name, the one who collected garbage?”

  “Tim?” Dennis said.

  “I’m Ezra, you idiot.”

  Dennis looked at the ground and wove his fingers together.

  “So, Tim was the one who told you about these two?” Dennis asked.

  “He told Sabine,” Ezra said. “But as usual I was listening in on other people’s conversations.”

  “You must be proud.”

  “Thank you,” Ezra said, confused by his own emotions. “And . . . thanks for being here.”

  Dennis looked around as if somewhere there was a TV left on and it was playing something offensive.

  “What did you say?” Dennis finally asked.

  “You’ve been a good companion,” Ezra sighed.

  Dennis shook his head and felt his ow
n forehead.

  “You’re all over the place emotionally,” Dennis said. “Why are you saying that?”

  “I don’t know.” Ezra trembled. “Something’s wrong with me. I think Geth’s doing something. I swear, the moment I meet that selfish fool I’m going to kill him. He takes the good and leaves me with nothing but anger and confusion. Now my insides are turning all rotten and soft and I long to be with friends, chatting. You know, like in that cracker commercial—the one with the cheese and the kittens.”

  “You have no friends.”

  Ezra started to wail.

  “What now?” Dennis asked.

  “What now?” Ezra mimicked. “Can’t you see I’m in pain?”

  Dennis looked hurt as well.

  “Sorry,” Ezra said. “I’ve got to pull myself together. They’ll be here soon.”

  “And you’re sure they’re from Foo?”

  “That garbage man said they were connected,” Ezra said. “Plus I can feel it.”

  “You’re feeling a lot of things these days,” Dennis said.

  “What a pothole you are,” Ezra snapped.

  “See,” Dennis said. “This is why you have no friends.”

  “I know,” Ezra said. “I’m a mess. Call down to the motel desk. See if they know when they’ll be back.”

  “They won’t know. You can’t just call and have—”

  “Call!” Ezra barked.

  Dennis stood up and brushed his pants. He looked at himself in the mirror by the TV and ran his hands over his shaved head. It wasn’t easy for him to stare at himself, but the last few weeks of his life had made him stronger and more capable. He had even noticed himself standing almost completely straight up instead of slouching when he walked. And on three different occasions he had actually instigated eye contact with people.

  “Stop staring at your boring face and call the desk!” Ezra screamed. “It’ll be just as washed out and plain after you make the call.”

  “Thanks,” Dennis said sarcastically.

  “What a knob.”

  Dennis picked up the beige phone, pushed the white buttons, and in three rings a gravelly male voice answered.

  “What?”

  “Um . . . uhh,” Dennis tried to think of the right way to ask about somebody else’s business. As he was stuttering, headlights pulled into the motel parking lot and brushed across their window.