Going Nowhere

by Lena North

  “Janie?” he asked.

  “Um.”

  I stared at the scene in front of me and wondered how the simple act of bringing Al to Nowhere could have brought this whole disaster on.

  “Janie!” Dad repeated. “You said he’d be on your free pass.”

  Her what? Oh, God, my parents had free passes. They’d seriously discussed having sex with other people, and which ones they would be allowed to do it with.

  “Well, I lied,” Janie snapped. “Any sane woman of any age would put Brad Pitt on her free pass, and you should know that.”

  “Absolutely,” Grandma Hazel agreed immediately and emphatically. “I’d totally do him. Wouldn’t you, Kitty?”

  “Well, yeah,” I agreed reluctantly because really?

  He might be a bit on the old side, but it was Brad Pitt. I was also pretty sure he was an elf.

  “Huh,” Al said. “He’s on my woman’s free pass too.”

  It seemed Mr. Pitt could keep himself busy for quite a while, should he feel so inclined.

  “But,” Dad wheezed. “The Clint.”

  “Get over it,” I said. “He’s old and wrinkly.”

  Dad closed his eyes, and I decided to use that to my advantage, so I pushed Al in front of me, which propelled him into Grandpa who had to move backward. When we were inside, I closed the door, listened to the yelling outside, and grinned.

  “Beer?”

  Both men agreed that staying inside with a beer was eminently preferable to debating the sexual appeal of the Clint.

  ***

  I sat with Grandma on a bench outside the garage and waited for Al. He had hit it off with my grandfather in a way I had not expected, and I wasn’t even sure it was an act. They’d been to Bubba’s. They sang a duet at the community center, and it hadn’t even been karaoke night. They’d gone to places Al wouldn’t tell me about. And now they were inside in the small apartment Grandpa had moved into, Howl and Yowl had joined them, and loud laughter echoed over the yard.

  “How much did you bet on Jackson?” I asked and squinted against the bright afternoon sun.

  “Plenty,” she murmured sleepily.

  “Who else is in on it?”

  “Not saying.”

  Huh. Grandpa, probably. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Joel were involved. Maybe Silenus? I recognized the mutinous look on her face, though, and decided to change the topic.

  “Can you scry again to see if you can find the amulet? Joel searched the records, and the police know nothing about it even being gone. Elsa tried to read a few old scrolls, but the wizards got all hoity-toity about it and told her to give them back. I don’t know what to do next.”

  “Sure,” she agreed. “I’ve tried a few times, but I don’t think Janie wants a bonfire in her backyard, so I’ve had to stop. We could perhaps try together?”

  I wasn’t sure adding me to the mix would improve anything.

  “Perhaps Mom should be there too?”

  Grandma turned her head slowly and looked at me with her brows raised.

  “Maybe not,” I sighed. “Okay, Grandma. Let’s try to scry just the two of us. How bad can it go?”

  I was pretty sure it could go extraordinarily bad, but if we pulled out the garden hose, we should be able to avoid a forest fire. I hoped.

  “Not today. I need to prepare. Tomorrow I’m working my first shift at Tiaso’s. The day after?” Grandma asked.

  She was still blissfully unaware that her shift was fifteen minutes long so there would be plenty of time to scry in the afternoon, but I decided to let Silenus convey this.

  “You really think you’re ready to perform?” I asked, hoping against all odds that she would say that she wasn’t.

  “Mellie and Bellie both say I am,” she answered.

  “Who?”

  “Melinda is the troll, and Belinda is your lesbian vampire friend.”

  My lesbian vampire friend? Bellie?

  I decided that a simple, “Okay,” was all I needed to say since I would never again see either of the women.

  Steps approached from the apartment, and I started gathering up my things. I’d promised to drop Al off at his place before going to Tiaso’s.

  “Yo!”

  I closed my eyes and wondered if I could not open them again in a million years because Al saying yo in that voice could not mean good things. Grandma stated laughing and against my wishes, my eyes flew open.

  “Yieee,” I squealed and closed them again.

  Al was right in front of me.

  Let me rephrase that; Al’s crotch was right in front of me. Al was probably ten feet away.

  “What the hell?” I groaned.

  “I know,” Al said. “It feels a bit weird, but it looks kind of cool, doesn’t it?”

  It did not.

  A car approached and keeping my eyes firmly on it, I watched as Rafael parked, got out and walked toward us.

  “Hey,” he called out.

  “Huh,” I wheezed.

  “Hey,” Al echoed and turned around.

  Rafael took a double-step, and his brows went high on his forehead.

  “Yikes,” he muttered. “What have you got there, Al?”

  “A penis enlarger,” Al explained. “Nifty. You tuck your willy inside and…” he trailed off and waved his hand in front of his crotch.

  “Okay.”

  Rafael studiously avoided looking at me. I was mostly happy Al had turned his backside my way and was trying hard not to laugh.

  “It’s comfy,” Al added. “It has some kind of soft fabric inside. Kitty’s grandfather had it in a box upstairs.”

  Oh, God.

  “Uh, Al?” He turned, and I winced. “You do realize that he’s used it?” Al’s eyes widened, and I added gently, “More than once.”

  For a second which felt like an eternity, our gazes held, but then Al’s brain processed the fact that he had his private parts completely covered by soft fabric that had held my grandfather’s private parts just as snugly on several occasions.

  He screamed in panic and started pulling at his crotch. His jeans didn’t allow for any adjustment of the enlarger, and he took a few steps to the side. With another desperate scream, he tore down his jeans and briefs, fell to his knees and then a beige item was flying through the air.

  He was sobbing and wailing at the same time, and I wondered if pouring bleach in my eyes would erase the image of his white butt from my retina.

  “Come on, man,” I heard Rafael say quietly. “Pull your pants up. There you go. No need to button them.” He put a hand on Al’s shoulder and leaned in closer. “Go take a shower. Use plenty of soap. I’ll make sure there’s whiskey available when you return.”

  “A gallon?” Al whispered.

  “A gallon,” Rafael confirmed, gave him a gentle shove toward the main house, and added, “Hazel. Could you please direct our friend to the nearest bathroom?”

  My grandmother was crazy, and often in a hilarious way, but she wasn’t cruel. The look on Al’s face was one of a man who would circumcise himself with his nails any second, and she didn’t bat an eyelid.

  “You can use my shower,” she said softly. “I’ll give you a couple of antiseptic wipes.”

  Al whimpered and followed her to the guest house.

  Rafael sat down, turned and looked at me.

  “Babe,” he murmured. “Someone has got to get your grandfather under control.”

  “Working on it,” I said hoarsely.

  “Work faster.”

  There really wasn’t anything else to say so we didn’t say anything until Grandma Hazel had returned.

  “Holy shit,” she said. “Hilarious moment, but still… Poor man.”

  Rafael winced.

  “Yeah,” he said, and then he started laughing.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Pimpleton

  Ho-ly cow.

  Grandma Hazel had been by the pole for less than five minutes, and she was already sliding off the thin shoulder st
raps holding her short dress up. If she kept this speed up, she’d be naked within two minutes.

  “Do something,” I wheezed.

  Silenus didn't reply, so I turned and found him watching the performance with a wide grin. The incredibly drunk biker who was the only customer started clapping his hands. Since he was a fairy, his movements were oddly graceful, and the claps were mostly slow, soft whooshes of air.

  “She’s good,” Silenus murmured.

  “She’s old,” I snapped.

  “I’m old too.”

  Oh, God. No. Just… no.

  I leaned to the side and pulled the red handle which set off the fire alarm.

  When the group of flabbergasted fire-fighters had left, Grandma’s shift was over, and I had a week to figure out what to do next time.

  “That was fun,” Grandma Hazel squealed.

  “You did good,” Silenus murmured. “You didn’t even seem nervous.”

  “I’ve practiced,” Grandma said. “And as long as that disgusting wizard isn’t watching, I like being on stage.”

  I only knew one wizard, and he was admittedly disgusting, but surely the Az hadn’t been to Pussy-Pussy-Pussy to watch his mother-in-law practice her pole-dancing skills?

  “Who?” I asked gingerly.

  “I don’t know who it is. He’s stayed in the back, but the mood changes when he arrives. The girls don’t like him and call him Pimpleton.”

  Pimpleton? That didn’t sound like a wizard’s name.

  “Is he a customer?”

  "No, that's the thing. The wizard says he's protecting them, and in exchange, they have to give him a percentage of… sales. The girls don't know what he protects them from, but he's powerful, and they can't say no."

  Ah. The pimp part of Pimpleton made sense suddenly.

  “Not nice,” I murmured. “Are wizards allowed to do that kind of thing?”

  “Nope.”

  Grandma took out an energy bar and started munching happily.

  “Shouldn’t we do something?”

  “Like what?” she asked curiously.

  “Like finding out who it is? If we can prove what he’s doing, I can talk to the Grand Wizard.”

  I had no clue who the Grand Wizard was and suspected it might be my stepfather which would make the conversation uncomfortable. Maybe I’d be a wuss and bring my father along?

  “We can do that,” she said slowly. “When are you off?”

  “I can handle the bar,” Silenus cut in. “Don’t like that shit, so you go and sort it out, Kitty.”

  Before I could stop to think about the wisdom of going to a place where a troll had sat on me, and a lesbian had… I didn’t know what she’d done actually, but it was daytime, and she was a vampire, so she would likely not be there.

  ***

  As expected, the vampire wasn’t there, but the troll was. She glared at me, which I ignored, and let Grandma Hazel do the talking. The girls were squealing happily when she explained our plan which wasn’t a plan at all. It was a sketchy idea.

  “I’m not sure I trust you,” the troll muttered, clearly aiming that comment at me.

  “Kitty,” Grandma snapped. “Tell Mellie about her brother.”

  In a few sentences, I explained about Benny, the divorce, the adultery and my part in it all. The troll winced when she heard how her brother had been running around the city in his birthday suit.

  Then Grandma aimed her gaze at the troll, and said, “Do you have anything to add, Mellie?”

  “He loves her.”

  I blinked.

  “Mellie,” Grandma repeated patiently.

  “I don’t have anything else to say. And she’s a fox.”

  The divorcee was indeed a fox shifter, although I couldn’t see the relevance of that statement.

  “They’d have adorable kids.”

  Troll-foxes? I didn’t think it sounded adorable at all, but whatever.

  “He’s clearly an idiot, but he loves her, she won’t talk to him, and he doesn’t know what to do,” the troll whined.

  “Kitty could talk to her,” Grandma Hazel offered happily.

  What? No. I could not talk to –

  A phone was put in my hand and while the signals went through I tried frantically to think about what to say. Then a woman answered, I explained who I was, and she started crying. I stared desperately at my grandmother who was waving her hand in a way I had no clue what it meant. Then it hit me. Love songs made everyone happy, didn’t they?

  “What do you want to talk about?” the woman asked tearfully.

  “The power of love,” I blurted out.

  “But I thought I wanted security. The money from Benny would give me that.”

  “Love is all you need,” I said reassuringly.

  “I don’t know… I keep wondering, what’s the meaning of it all?

  “The glory of love,” I stated.

  “What if he’s found someone else already?”

  “You’re still the one,” I shared.

  “But I’m a fox, we’re an unusual couple, and –”

  “A groovy kind of love,” I said, nodding sagely, which she wouldn’t see.

  “Do you think he still loves me?” she said with hope in her voice.

  “He’s stuck on you.”

  “I’ll love him forever,” she sobbed.

  “And he’ll keep on loving you,” I assured her.

  “It’s been so awful…”

  “You are not alone.”

  “You’re right. I will call him,” she murmured.

  “Perfect,” I sighed.

  “I’m not sure it’s perfect exactly,” she protested.

  “Love can be,” I said.

  She sighed, but when she didn’t say anything, I murmured a goodbye, closed the call and handed the phone back to Mellie. The room was completely silent, and everyone stared at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Magic,” someone breathed out.

  “I haven’t heard that many cheesy song titles since that sappy valkyrie got married,” someone else murmured.

  “It worked, didn’t it?” I said dismissively, although with a small smirk.

  I felt pretty danged good about myself.

  “He’s coming,” a girl who looked like a fairy but smelled like a puma suddenly murmured. She sniffed the air and nodded. “Pimpleton.”

  “He can’t see us,” I squealed.

  We were shuffled through a room with a disturbing number of whips hanging on the wall, and out through the back door. A car was parked outside, and a man sat in the driver’s seat, talking on the phone. Grandma and I squatted behind a dumpster, but when we heard him open the door, we peeked around the corner. His voice was a soft murmur, but I couldn’t see anything.

  “Get up,” Grandma said and pointed to the top of the dumpster. “Hurry.”

  I jumped, and in my desperation, I used a little too much force, so I went too high up in the air, and on my way down, it became clear to me that there wasn’t anything covering the top of the stupid thing.

  As I descended toward the bags of trash, I saw the wizard.

  His hair was colored in a way I suspected was meant to be golden, but it wasn’t. It looked almost orange. It was also swept across his forehead in a strange attempt at a combover, which mostly looked funky.

  He reared back in surprise when he saw me flying through the air, and our eyes met.

  “Hiya!” I squeaked and waved happily.

  He raised a hand, and as I landed in a pile of garbage, I heard a confused, “Hello?”

  Grandma Hazel pulled me out via the side door, and we ran for her car. She laughed all the way back to Nowhere. I was busy removing pieces of God knows what from all over myself and did not laugh at all.

  “No one will be at home,” Grandma pressed out between loud bursts of completely unnecessary amusement. “It’s afternoon, so no one will see you covered in –”

  She stopped speaking abruptly, and my head snapped up to
see what she was looking at.

  There was a crowd in front of my parents’ house.

  Biff Brown, Janie Cameron-Brown, Bill, Joe, and Tom Brown, and Hunter Brown.

  Joel and Elsa.

  Jackson Vik-Hansen.

  And Rafael Moya.

  What the hell was everyone doing there in the middle of the goddamned afternoon?

  I stepped out of the car, determined to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

  “Babe,” Jackson said when no one else said a single word. “Is there a reason you have a condom hanging in your hair?”

  ***

  It took more than an hour to clean me up, mostly because my father emphasized the need for extensive scrubbing with something antiseptic. Grandma Hazel promptly informed him that she’d used her last antiseptic wipes to clean up Al’s crotch, and when Dad had picked his jaw off the ground, he walked away without another word. Janie refused to let me step inside wearing my clothes, so while everyone else was laughing, I stripped down to my underwear.

  Then Dad walked back outside, roared hoarsely when he saw the red thong and poured a bottle of whiskey over my head. It got in my eyes, so I howled. He poured another bottle over me, and I heard another round of laughter.

  “Can I lick it off?” Rafael murmured as he started wiping my face with his t-shirt.

  Dad growled, but Rafael turned and looked at him.

  “Biff,” he said patiently. “Thong. Can you blame me?” Dad growled again, but his heart wasn’t in it, so I guess he didn’t blame Rafael.

  “Looks hot, doesn’t it,” Jackson said calmly. “I got her that one.”

  Then he put his hands on my hips and steered us toward the door. The whole situation was bizarre, but since I’d been idiotic enough to wear the stupid thong, I was happy Jackson walked behind me. I was pretty sure flashing my butt cheeks would give my father an actual stroke.

  Everyone was waiting for me on the porch when I exited. I’d used a whole bottle of soap to wash off the whiskey and whatever else that had been stuck to my body, so I smelled like a goddamned rose garden.

  “What was I supposed to do?” I asked, which I thought was very reasonable. “And what are you all doing here?”

  “Your mother called,” Dad said. “Said you started working at Puss –” He cut himself off when Janie kicked him and tilted her head toward my brothers. “Janie they’re old enough to –” She kicked him again, and harder this time. Dad winced turned toward me. “Fuchsia called and said that you had gotten a job that was, uh, inappropriate.”