by Mark Tufo
“I could say the same to you, Old One.”
“I’ve made my claim. Either do something about it or leave; I’m not changing my mind.” Got to admit I was more than a little surprised when he turned and left. In fact, immensely relieved would be more accurate. I was thinking I was going to end all of my Lycan issues in one fell swoop, though that likely meant Mikota ending me. Sure, I’d killed Lunos in a most satisfactory way but it left me wounded and exhausted. One huge problem was gone, but the one in front of me could be a whole lot worse. Azile was to my side, and I didn’t quite know how this was going to go. If I were a betting man, I’d say not so good. The father of her children just runs balls out into a fight to the death with a Lycan who is surrounded by an army of Lycan? Yeah, that sort of thing doesn’t generally sit too well with mothers.
“How hurt are you?” was all she asked.
“Pretty bad.” And I was, but if I’d suffered nothing more than a hangnail I would still have hammed it up to the point where it looked like I was going to pass out. I knew I had my out and I was damned sure going to use it to the best of my ability. I thought about stumbling, but if she caught me overacting, my ruse would be exposed and I might be in even bigger trouble.
She gently escorted me back within the city walls. The celebration had already begun. Folks were going to be up all night, reveling in this one. I wished I could join them. Sure, Azile hadn’t torn me a new one, but that didn’t mean she was overly ecstatic with my earlier actions. If the enthusiastic way she sewed my wound shut was any indication, I was going to hear about today for quite some time.
“You pull those stitches any tighter and the skin is going to wrap around to the front,” I told her.
“Maybe the idea is that I stretch it enough that it covers your mouth and you stop saying stupid things.”
“I guess there’s always that possibility, but I’m a hero, you know. The Lycan threat is over.”
Not sure if she stuck a needle or a finger in the wound, but something gave me a sharp pain back there. “Oh yes. I would say Mikota was completely happy with the way things turned out. He wasn’t insulted or belittled in the least when you refused to surrender Lunos’ body. I cannot for the life of me imagine why he would seek you out at some future time to make it right.”
It had only taken me three lifetimes but I knew pleading my case at this exact moment was in no way a good idea. Best thing I could do was take her needling (see what I did there?) and keep my mouth shut. When she was done she put her tools down, leaned over my shoulder, and kissed me deeply.
“You keep doing that shit and I’m going to kill you myself, hero. I’ve got some patients I need to check on. You should get some rest, though somehow I don’t think you will.”
“Where are the kids?”
“They’re with Lana.”
“And Mathieu?”
“I hear he’s checking his latest batch. Go to your friend’s, enjoy your night. I think we should stay here another couple of days until you heal up—then we need to talk.”
“Umm…about us?” I almost swallowed my tongue.
“It affects us, yes. But for good or bad, Michael, I am bound to you. That is not what I want to discuss.”
“If it’s about interior design, I really don’t care, you can pretty much do as you want. I mean, as long as there are no dolls or any sort of clown motif, or anything ham orientated or cherry colored. Other than that I am open to just about anything”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She kissed me again and walked out.
“Holy shit…hadn’t really been expecting it to go down that way,” I said as I sat there for a few more minutes.
“I was wondering when you were going to get here,” Mathieu said. He was sitting outside of his home. There were two chairs, two mugs, and a pony keg sitting on a table.
“It’s like you can read my very soul. I’d hug you, but I can barely move my arms and if you touched me back there the sound I would make would be very un-masculine.”
“To friendship,” he said as we clinked our mugs together.
“To the end of the Lycan war.” We clinked again. An hour later we’d run out of things to celebrate and had begun toasting individual stars. Got through quite a few of the brighter ones before we drained the keg and decided to call it a night, and by “call it a night” I mean passed out on the chairs. I thanked my nana, Bretel, as she placed a blanket atop me, which was weird because I’d never had a nana Bretel. I awoke early the next morning, not because of the sun sneaking up over the horizon but rather that the light was suddenly blocked by someone in its path. I thought it was most likely Azile come to gather me and bring me home. Instead, I started when I looked into a cold black eye of the largest raven I’d ever seen in my life.
I knew this bird. I knew that head was going to turn and I would be faced with the cold, white, paleness of harbinger eye. He did not disappoint, and he never blinked as he regarded me.
“What do you want?” I asked.
He cawed.
“Have I not given enough? Who sent you?” I tossed the blanket and moved with all the speed I had afforded to me. The bird was faster. I swear the cawing he spewed as he flew away was rude laughter. My plan was to tear his head off if I’d caught him. Maybe fry his body up with a little oil, salt, and pepper; hell, he was big enough to have a fair amount of meat on him. Azile showed up not more than a couple of minutes later. I noticed she spent an inordinate amount of time looking at the spot where the bird had stood then peering exactly after his line of departure.
“Did you have a guest?” she asked, still looking up into the sky.
“I did. Good or bad?”
“Can’t tell. It is sometimes unfortunate that the heart wants what the heart wants.”
“I’ve got a feeling that’s directed at me.”
She smiled. “Whatever gave you that impression?” She gave one last look to where the bird had gone and then, as far as I knew, didn’t think on it again. Yeah, I know that last line is bullshit; she just didn’t bring it up again with me. Probably spent countless hours trying to divine what it was and where it had come from.
“Why are you here so early?”
“The children are hungry.”
“How do you know?” I was wiping the sleep from my eyes.
She pushed her swelling breasts together.
“Well shit—now that you bring it up, I’m a little hungry myself,” I said as I leered at her um, endowments. “Motherhood suits you well.”
“Just come and help me.”
We stayed at Lana’s the entire day, doing what normal people do. We laughed, we ate. We drank. We just basically enjoyed each other’s company. But it was a bittersweet day. I was determined to soak in every minute of it, but I knew there was a pendulum swinging in the background. Days like this would not happen often. It was strange to have an eternity afforded to me, yet be so absolutely concerned with time. We ended up staying an extra two days. I really played up my injury, though I fooled no one; I think we all needed a reasonable excuse to linger. On the morning of the third day, I gave Lana a big hug.
“Remember this spring,” she admonished.
“How could I forget your wedding, Lana? Of course I’ll be here. Plus, Mathieu said he is planning a new pilsner. I wouldn’t miss either for the world.”
“Thank you for everything, Michael Talbot. You have made our world, this world, a better place by being in it.”
I was taken aback by her words; I’d never heard anything like it. Usually, I was being blamed for all the ills of the world.
“Thank you, Lana. To hear you say those words means a lot.”
She hugged me again. Mathieu was crying.
“Stop it, man, or I’m going to do it too and we’re in front of the women for god’s sake. They will think we’re less manly.”
“I wish you would just stay here,” he told me.
“It would be alright for a few weeks, Mathieu, and then people would start
to look at us funny. And holy fuck, if a cow or something went missing, the first person they would look to would be me. And if the planting season went wrong, they’d want to sacrifice a witch or some shit and then there’d be this whole supernatural war and you wouldn’t know which side to choose. It would be a disaster. This way, if I only come and visit a couple of times a year, we won’t have enough time to build up a huge animosity amongst the good citizenry. Trust me, it works out better this way. If we don’t have a common enemy to vanquish or a quest to run, I start to make up my own drama. It gets real messy real fast.” I got him smiling after my words, even though in reality I wasn’t too far off the mark.
When he presented me with my own keg and detailed instructions on how to brew his recipes, I did finally lose it.
“This is just different enough that you are still going to have to visit with me periodically,” he told me. We hugged for longer than is normally customary for two men, but I didn’t give a shit. He was an honest to goodness bona-fide friend; I hadn’t had one of those in a good long while.
I didn’t say anything for the first ten or so miles as we traveled. The babies were asleep, Azile seemed pleased as punch we were heading home as an entire family unit, and I was both sad and excited. This was a transition point in my life. The immediate threat was over. Now, I don’t know if I was just laying my feelings over the entire tapestry but everything seemed just a smidgen brighter. The birds songs were livelier, I wouldn’t doubt if I saw a deer or two doing a jig. As a whole, I know nature really doesn’t give a shit about the affairs of man. We had so far removed ourselves from the cradle of our lives, that when we went and did stupid shit, like had wars, the rest of the inhabitants of our planet pretty much ignored us and went about their normal business.
We took our time heading home, partly because the babies demanded stops regularly, but for the most part we weren’t in any great rush. Although, I was looking forward to seeing Oggie, who I was sure was sick of being terrorized by the cat. It was closing in on twilight when Azile told me it was time to stop.
“Again? How much can they eat? I mean really, have you checked either of them for tapeworms?”
“We’re home, Talbot.”
“Oh.”
She did a little waving of her hands and the front porch came into view.
“Gotta admit, that’s pretty cool.” I went up the stairs and opened the door for Azile who was carrying the munchkins. When I opened the door I almost lost my shit. “Traitor!” I yelled. Oggie swiveled his massive head to me, he was cuddled up next to the cat. “Unless you are locked in mortal combat, you had better get away from that beast!” Oggie jumped off the couch and crashed into me. His earlier transgression all but forgotten as he feverishly licked my face.
“When you’re done making out with your dog, do you think you could help me put the kids to sleep?”
“She just doesn’t get our bond, Oggie. Cat people are very aloof, just like the animals they live with. If you’re going to love your animal you have to get on the ground and roll around with them.”
“How does someone who has an unnatural fear of all things germ, roll around with a beast that enjoys smelling butts and uses its tongue as a form of greeting?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of the Great Dog Exemption?”
“You make more stuff up than an author.”
“Can you imagine me writing a book?”
“I can’t imagine you sitting still for more than a half an hour.”
I had got up off the floor and was sticking my tongue out at MJ, who, after a seriously long questioning stare, began to smile.
“See? Even he doesn’t know what to make of you.”
“He will be made into my exact image!” I said as I held him aloft.
“That’s not fair to the boy.”
We got the kids cleaned up and put into bed. We had a bet on which one was going to fall asleep first. I lost when I said it would be Alianna. Azile got to get cleaned up first, I got the unenviable task of putting the horses up. They had been milling about the yard when I’d been out on the porch with Oggie; I was not ready for them to now be up on the porch as well. I won’t say they were spooked—they didn’t look overly frightened—concerned maybe. I mean, they were up on the porch for some reason. Looked like they were getting ready to come in.
“What’s going on, guys?” I wondered if they instinctively knew that to be on the porch meant they were behind Azile’s curtain. The thought occurred that maybe Mikota had decided he’d rather settle things now instead of some mythical time in the future. It was not a fight I relished. I wanted the killing to be over with. I wanted the hundreds of injuries I’d incurred to be stuck at whatever number they were at now. I was already a latticework of scars; I didn’t need to add to the roadmap. The horses and I stayed there a good long time with me surveying the entire area. I did not catch sight of anything, and the horses never nickered or danced in nervousness; their eyes never peeled back, wide with fright.
When my mount dropped a deuce the size of a toaster oven on the deck, I figured it was time to escort them to the barn. Neither resisted and we went in without further incident. I got them cleaned up and fed and decided I was pretty pissed off that I was going to be the last one of us all to scrape the grime of the road off of me.
“How come I don’t get to be pampered every once in a while?” I said as I walked back in. Of course, Azile was standing there by the opening, a towel wrapped around her frame; she was drying her hair with another.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“I’d really appreciate that,” I replied.
“Did you yell or…anything…while you were out there?”
“I didn’t.” I told her about the horses and that she should probably watch where she stepped in the morning. She may have been irked that I hadn’t picked it up, but she let it slide.
“Weird. I could have sworn I heard something.” She turned and headed back to the bathroom.
“That’s it? The horses act strange and you hear something that wasn’t there and all you can say is ‘weird’? This world is entirely too unpredictable for you to ignore such things.”
“What would you have me do, Michael? My hair is wet and if I don’t dry it properly it will be frizzy all day tomorrow. Relax. If something manages to get past all the charms and spells I have on this place, there is nothing either of us is going to be able to do about it.”
“I cannot tell you how fucking comforting that is. So if something is in this house at any point, it’s pretty much game over?”
“Yup. That’s what I’m saying.” She was heading down the hallway.
I pulled a little of that super-speed card and ripped that towel free.
“You like what you see?” she asked over her shoulder. “Too bad you’re not getting to touch any of it, reeking the way you do.” She sauntered the rest of the way down the hallway, swinging those unbelievably full hips. I wiped the corner of my mouth with my sleeve. Yep, I stank.
I pretty much forgot about all manner of monster as I stripped down to my suit of skin. In twenty minutes I had scraped myself raw cleaning up. I toweled off, and stayed undressed. I was a little unnerved when I opened the door and the entire house was dark.
“Azile?” Now I was naked and walking down the hallway. I’d been naked once before at the start of a zombie fallout; socks would have been nice. I took another step, a candle in a wall sconce ignited.
“What the hell?” I was looking at it as I took another step; another candle lit up. Another step, another candle. When I crossed the threshold into the bedroom, a dozen or more flamed to life. “Where’s the pole? I’ll do a little dance for you.”
“You told me once that I should never witness you dance.” Azile had her head propped up and was laying on the bed.
“I did, didn’t I. I saw the lights out…I was afraid maybe you’d fallen asleep.”
“I’ll fall asleep when I’m good and ready.
Now get over here.”
“I’m really tired; I’m just going to turn in.” Those were my words but my body was completely contradicting me as she pulled the covers down.
“That’s fine I don’t really need all of you,” she said, smiling.
“We’re a package deal. Can’t have one without the other.”
“Are you seriously going to make me beg for it?”
“I could think of worse positions to be in,” I told her.
“Fine. I’m getting sleepy too.”
I dove into the bed before she could even begin to roll over; women are hard to fool.
“If I’m right, this should be about when one of the kids gets up,” I told her. They didn’t; and then, umm, they didn’t again, which was fairly unheard of on both fronts. I’ll leave it at that. We sat in bed for a good long while afterwards and just talked. We spoke mostly about small things, nothing earthshaking or ground quaking, the types of things any ordinary couple talks about: chores, the personalities of their kids, friends, events coming up. It was fucking bliss.
More than a lifetime ago I had begged the gods to release me from my life of boredom; what I had called a rut—the daily grind of living without anything noteworthy happening. A life of waking, eating breakfast, going to work, coming home, eating, going to bed, kid doctor appointments, kid sporting events, weekend warrior activities, the occasional beer with a friend. Normal, everyday life stuff; I had it, and I’d begged to be released from it. I had it again, and I was not ever going to let go.
How many times in our life are we told, you don’t miss something until it’s gone? A dozen? Fifty? A hundred? We’re just not wired that way. We kind of think, since I have it now, I’ll have it always. Of course, that’s illusion, but we also can’t constantly be thinking about losing what we have, even though eventually we all do. Talk about being stuck in a deep hole with no way out. To dwell on the depth of that hole would make us too afraid to do anything; it would be a vicious hamster wheel we found ourselves on. I think, in the end, if from now on my days consisted of nothing more than raising the kids and shoveling horse manure I’d be perfectly fine. I’d had absolutely enough with saving this world, and you know what was kind of funny? The gods agreed. But not in the way you’d think.
