The Foul Mouth and the Cat Killing Coyotes (The King Henry Tapes)

by Richard Raley

  T-Bone showed off his security badge right away. “I just received an alert that someone penetrated through your firewall.”

  Don’t know about Deputy, but hearing that phrase I had an epiphany for how computer nerds talked dirty once they finally got some. I’m gonna penetrate your firewall, you dirty girl . . .

  “Is that bad?” Deputy asked.

  “Bad enough to get us down here at this hour,” I pointed out. T-Bone had given me his supply bag to carry. From what I could tell it had tools for computers in it but the only one I recognized was the screwdriver.

  “It’s . . . ‘a problem’ I guess you could say,” T-Bone did say. “Sometimes it does happen by accident or it might have been some college freshman drunk-hacking on a bet. I just want to make sure whoever it was didn’t leave a computer virus or a trojan behind.”

  Deputy shrugged at us. “You’re talking over my head. You have clearance, you can go in.” He pointed at me. “He don’t have clearance though, so he has to stay in the visitation area.”

  “I’m new,” I explained.

  Pleasant faded a bit. “No clearance tag: no go.”

  T-Bone started to get nervous again, his hands balling up into fists. “You sure I can’t sign for him?”

  “This isn’t Fresno PD, we stick by regulations or we get suspended,” Deputy said, “and I really like my job, boys. Get him a tag for next time and we won’t have any problems, but for now . . .”

  In a day of plans getting shot to shit, it was the first but far from the last. Definitely not the biggest either. I handed over T-Bone’s second bag. “You have to fix it alone then.”

  “Alone?”

  “Only way looks like . . .” I motioned at some empty seats. “I can stay here at least, right?”

  “Sure thing,” Deputy said.

  “Use my phone? Go to the bathroom? Stuff like that?”

  “Just don’t try to cross the line right over there.” Deputy pointed to a yellow line on the linoleum floor.

  I shrugged at T-Bone. Wasn’t anything I could do besides knocking Deputy out and that wasn’t exactly the best of ideas. I figured someone would notice the knocked-out guy right at the entrance sooner or later. “Give me a call if you need a second opinion on . . . the viruses, or whatever.”

  T-Bone gulped. “Right, second opinion.”

  “Just fix it and check what we came for and we can get out,” I told him, trying to calm him down. “Got better places to be, right?”

  “Right, better places to be . . .”

  Times like this I wish I could make what happens in these tapes up . . . just add some action into the story. Have a fucking terminator come into the place and start blowing people away . . . have Annie B stop by and say hello. Me sitting my ass on a plastic chair, occasionally giving Deputy a smile, watching the people coming in for work or some janitors leaving work? Not very exciting is it?

  Pretty damned boring.

  Terminators, why don’t they exist? I mean . . . I could be pretty badass against some all metal enemies. Movie would have lasted five minutes if I’d been there. Wouldn’t have needed no machine press or home-made explosives neither.

  The story I got . . .

  I could tell you about the few minutes I spent in the bathroom stall . . . what? Not interested in that? Don’t want the color and shape and size? I could guess a weight for it if you like. No?

  How about the can of soda and the bag of chips I bought? Want to know what kinds? Funyuns and a coke. Well . . . shit, that wasn’t very exciting was it?

  Oh . . .

  My phone rang again . . . this time I answered it.

  “International House of Pancakes.”

  “King Henry . . . when I call you, answering the phone is not optional.” Man, Ceinwyn was pissed. I can’t accurately describe the tone of voice but let’s just say if my cell-phone had balls . . . they would have shriveled up.

  “I’ve been a little busy.”

  “Not too busy for me.”

  “Even you this time, Ceinwyn. I’m in DEFCON whatever-the-fuck here.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  I rolled my eyes. Too bad I didn’t have a better phone plan with video chat or she could have seen it. “You already know what happened. You talked with T-Bone, probably called up a few other Intras in town that you haven’t filled me in on too, maybe even the vamp embassy, right?”

  “King Henry, I know I’ve fostered and encouraged independence and self-reliance on you before but now is not the time for play.”

  “I don’t get it . . . why are you so worried about this Vega guy?”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “So he can turn into a coyote, is that supposed to scare me? I don’t got any cats; don’t even have a doggy door for him to try to sneak in through, know what I mean?”

  “Tell me what happened,” she repeated.

  “I mean . . . guns . . . scary guns I can break in half with the Mancy, is that it? That what’s so scary about him? I ain’t scared yet . . . maybe you should be less worried about what happened and be more worried about filling me in on him.”

  “I’m going to be there in a few hours,” she tried.

  “I know.”

  “What do you think I’m going to do to you if you don’t keep me at least moderately happy?”

  “Probably something with air and my asshole.”

  “You and your anal obsession . . .”

  “Say what?”

  “Nasal cavity actually.”

  I grabbed my nose just thinking about it. “That’s cruel . . .”

  “That’s the point.”

  If I’d been doing anything productive, instead of sitting on a plastic seat thinking about if maybe I should grab a second bag of Funyuns, I probably wouldn’t have kept up the conversation. But since I was just a waste of space . . . might as well get in some troubled student and badass stand-in auntie time. “I was minding my own business when some werecoyotes started messing with this lady so I beat them up.”

  “Tyson failed to mention this.”

  “Yeah, don’t think I mentioned it to him first off so . . . not his fault.”

  “What possessed you to attack the Coyote Nation after I told you to leave them alone?”

  “I didn’t know they were Coyotes at the time . . . get it? Were Coyotes?”

  There was a sigh.

  “Just looked like normal assholes to me . . . my bad.”

  “You can sense the difference in the Mancy.”

  Huh. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sensing has never been my best skill . . .”

  “It probably would have made you agitated.”

  “Yeah . . . nothing ever makes me agitated, how could I have missed it?”

  “How many?”

  “Three then . . .”

  “It grew?”

  “Pair of girls came out of the store nearby; one of them put a gun to me.”

  “You didn’t conjure in public did you?”

  “Nah, see, I knew the girl so it turned out alright.”

  “How?”

  It took a great deal of restraint to not throw my phone across the room. Figure Deputy wouldn’t have liked it for one . . . two, that phone was pretty nice. “Don’t play stupid, Ceinwyn.”

  “King Henry, what am I supposed to be hiding from you?”

  I frowned, went back and forth over whether she was playing me. “You have to know. No way something that fucking big to me gets by you.”

  “King Henry . . .” Why is it that Ceinwyn can say my name like that and get all the anger dropping away? Wasn’t fair. “Perhaps it’s time for you to realize that I’m no more perfect than you are. I don’t know everything.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “I admit I know many things, but not everything. Even the Lady is fallible.”

  I stopped myself from screaming into the phone, but just barely. Don’t think Deputy would have liked that either. Instead I ca
lmly put it out there, my decibels way lower than I wanted them to be, “How does the Head of Recruiting for the Institution of Elements not know that Horatio Vega is married to my sister?”

  Stunned silence.

  From Ceinwyn.

  It might have felt good if it wouldn’t have been so damned scary.

  Stunned silence.

  From Ceinwyn.

  “You really didn’t know . . .”

  “Which sister?” she asked.

  “JoJo.”

  “Is she . . . did he . . .”

  “Yeah, he did. Not against her will but she’s over her head. She might be some kind of princess or some shit but it’s one with a golden chain around her ankle.”

  “You obviously didn’t convince her to leave with you or you really would be dead right now.”

  “Nah . . . we just talked a little, then she went back.”

  “The next day they attacked your shop.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tyson explained how you fought them off.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty awesome.”

  “Why haven’t I heard of the magnetic wall artifact before?”

  “That really what you want to talk about right now?”

  I could almost hear the smile. “Are you going to hang up on me soon, King Henry?”

  “Probably.”

  “Your poor, poor nasal cavity . . .”

  I distracted her with more story. “After the Coyotes took off I got T-Bone out of there quick with everything that’s related to the Mancy. Then the cops came and I had myself an interview downtown.”

  “What do they suspect?”

  “Detective Ribera thinks I’m making bombs or modifying guns . . . something mechanical.”

  “Good thing you didn’t go with a bakery.”

  “Yeah . . . dodged that bullet along with all the rest, didn’t I?”

  “ESLED will take care of the police.”

  “What about Horatio Vega?”

  “Are you doing something stupid, King Henry?”

  I laughed. Cold harsh laugh, rocks grinding all against each other, steel kissing steel. “Something smart, Ceinwyn, something smart.”

  “I’ll be there in a few hours.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  “Let me handle this.”

  “You know I’m not going to.”

  “You’re not ready for this. I’m barely ready for King Vega.”

  “I handled Annie B just fine.”

  She sighed. In the background of her call I could hear the engine of her car picking up. They’ve done some nice stuff with electric in the last few years but when you really needed speed . . . couldn’t beat gasoline. “Anne was on your side, you seem to be forgetting that.”

  “I don’t get it . . . the first time we had a talk about Were Nations you laughed at them. Thought they were funny, told me about sororities going cowgirl.”

  “I didn’t know about Vega then . . . I didn’t think something like him was possible.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Wait and we’ll deal with him together.”

  “I can take him.”

  “Like you took Anne?”

  I paused long enough to pull the phone from my ear and look at it with a frown. “She . . . she—”

  “—wasn’t supposed to tell me. People lie to get what they want, King Henry. All your faults as a child . . . but that was never one of them, was it? You’re always honest . . . perfectly honest. Honest enough to think a vampire wasn’t lying to win a bet. That she was vulnerable and you were doing her a favor . . .”

  “Okay . . . she told you we fucked to win the bet,” I practically spat into the receiver, “but you weren’t there, so don’t be deciding her motives after the fact just to manipulate me when it comes to this situation. I saw her face; I saw death in those eyes of hers. I’m good at calling bullshit, Ceinwyn. This ain’t the Asylum. I’m a big boy now, got it?”

  “I can’t.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t fly . . .”

  “What . . .”

  “If I could fly . . . right now I’d be flying to save your stupid ass.”

  Session 13

  I sat down next to Valentine, by the fire Eva had started and Samson kept diligently going. It was at full burn, filling the air with soot and giving up enough heat to almost make the night seem hot in that little slice of the wild. I was a step away from taking my coat off . . . hoping Valentine would duplicate the action.

  But Valentine was captured by the evil werewolves, King Henry!

  Yes, kiddos, but it’s nighttime in this story now, so I’m thinking about the conversation I had with her the night before. God damn, do I have awesome time-traveling narration powers! Can this little Foul Mouth tell a story or what? Now shut the fuck up while I do my penance. Fucking Plutarch . . .

  I sat down next to Valentine by the fire.

  It brings a smile to my face just remembering how pretty she looked that night. Not beautiful, not yet, that was a year or more off. She was still too thin, too coltish. But there was still something about her. Firestarters have a habit of going two ways. Either they’re emotional, likely to swing back and forth and go wherever they may, or they end up shining like a star, so bright, so damn worth having, but so far away . . . distant in their magnificence.

  Valentine went with Door Number Two.

  Unless I tried to do anything with her past second base, then it’s the Queen of Crazy. But let’s forget those times, that’s another story, let’s focus on the star, let’s focus on the coolest girl I’ve ever known, and I’ve known some cool ones in my time.

  Coltish back then, yet she still had the two features I’ve always marked her with. Eyes so black they had no iris and cheekbones sharp enough to cut. Then there’s her accent. Valentine didn’t move to the good ol’ USA until she turned twelve. Before that it was Melbourne. I think ‘cauliflower’ could sound sexy in an Aussie accent.

  “Did you finally decide I’m not going to make you explode?” she asked me, smile wan.

  I looked around. Everyone had just kind of sat where they would. Welf’s group and Estefan’s group had claimed the tables. Asa and Eva and Nizhoni were by the lake; that left the fire for misfits and worms. “Nowhere else to be, so guess I’ll chance it.”

  We ate our hot dogs in silence.

  I don’t exactly remember what Pocket and Miranda were up to but Samson must have had them doing something, else they would have been around. Only the memory is clear, just me and Val. Really the first time we ever talked. After making her cry that first day followed by my Boomworm title-bestowing I was pretty embarrassed about the whole thing. We’d avoided each other.

  One hot dog down, I manned up. “I’m sorry.”

  She stared.

  “About . . . like . . . the dog thing . . .”

  She shrugged. “I’m over it.”

  “Oh . . .”

  What a fucking Casanova!

  “When I first came here I worried I might hurt someone,” she said, hand self-consciously pushing stay blond hairs behind an ear, her red coat moving just enough so I could see a bit of collar bone at the base of her neck. “I still worry I’m going to hurt someone . . .”

  “Oh . . .”

  Who’s a Love Stud? Not fourteen-year-old-me.

  “But I haven’t had an accidental discharge in four days now,” she continued. “I’m starting to understand what Mr. Gullick is teaching us.”

  I frowned pretty hard over this. “You mean . . . there’s a point?”

  “Mental control I should think.”

  “Huh . . . I thought he was just messing with us like all the rest of ‘em.”

  It was Val’s turn to frown at me; it never went all the way to her face, just a hint of wrinkle at the base of her nose and right between her eyebrows. “You really do think we’re at war with the teachers, don’t you?”

  “Only when they fuck with me. They ever start teaching me the Mancy
and I’ll be a good little student. But for most of what we’ve learned so far? Forget it.”

  “And when did you last have an accidental discharge?”

  I shrugged. “Ain’t been a bit accidental for awhile now. I try to discharge all the time.”

  Some of the star’s warmth faded. “You could hurt someone.”

  “People aren’t made of stone and one thing I’ve figured so far is that we can’t make stuff up out of nowhere.”

  Her face was puzzled. “But I can . . .”

  “Really?”

  “Did you think there happened to be a barbecue on next to the dog?”

  “Oh . . .”

  I ate me another hot dog in silence. Yes, I realize how ironic the food was given the conversation.

  “Sorry about the nickname too,” I eventually said.

  Valentine smirked, face proud. “Don’t. I kind of like Boomworm.”

  [CLICK]

  The fire was very different the next night and the girl sitting next to me wasn’t the enjoyable company Valentine had been. Instead I was left with Miranda. No idea why Pocket picked me of all people to look over her and calm her down. Just about anyone else could have done a better job. Raj Malik sure looked like he wanted to try.

  Pocket himself was too busy keeping Welf from being stupid.

  The minute he realized Val and Hope were gone Welf wanted to raise a search party and of course he was looking to lead it himself, with Pocket as a guide. Only Estefan and his bunch weren’t having it. They wanted Pocket to help with camp.

  Poor boy was the most popular kid in class all of a sudden.

  So that left me all alone in calming down a distraught Miranda. I ended up telling her to ‘shut the fuck up and calm down, Valentine’s fine. It’s just Samson, trust me.’ Only I wasn’t buying my bullshit as much as I had earlier in the day. How could Samson pick off three kids without anyone noticing? Without a sound? Maybe he was the biggest badass around . . . bigger than even I assumed . . .

  Amazing thing is . . . telling her to shut up worked on Miranda. She also started buying my bullshit too. Valentine’s fine! Valentine’s just tied up somewhere! They’re all fine! Miranda kept repeating herself, sitting by the roadside on her rolled out sleeping-bag, hugging her knees, shifting back and forth like she was a step away from a real asylum.