The Devil's Been Busy

by J. D. Blackrose

  Judy blinked yet again, which, this time, seemed to indicate relief. “Oh, good, Jess. I’d hate to have to fine you.”

  “I wouldn’t like it either.”

  Chapter Two

  Oddball the Clown showed up right on time. Not expecting “pony rides,” I had hired a clown to make balloon animals for the kids. I’m not crazy about clowns. In fact, I think they are creepy as hell, but Oddball was recommended by a neighbor’s babysitting service, so I gave it a shot.

  “Hey, hey! Kids, I’m Oddball the Clown! Come sit around me in a semi-circle, and I’ll tell you a silly story.”

  The clown sat on an upside-down milk crate, and the kids settled around him. Some of the parents gathered around as well. Everyone had smiles on their faces and was ready to laugh. Oddball did have the funny red nose and the silly banana yellow costume, but he hadn’t painted his whole face white, which I liked because it made him a touch less sinister than other clowns I’d seen. Of course, the last clown I’d seen was a lava monster in disguise, so that experience might have colored my perception.

  Oddball leaned forward, and the kids leaned toward him, little knees bouncing up and down at the thought of a story.

  “Once upon a time…”

  Good start.

  “There was a beautiful maiden who loved another maiden…”

  Okay, inclusivity and tolerance. I could get into this. Parents nodded to each other. One father, who was gay and married, gave me the thumbs up. I was feeling proud of myself for hiring such a progressive clown.

  “The beautiful maiden loved the other maiden, but her father told her she couldn’t marry the other maiden because she wasn’t beautiful.”

  Self-acceptance, nice.

  “So, the beautiful maiden tried to change her love by dressing her in pretty dresses and high heels, but the ugly maiden didn’t want to wear those things.”

  I was liking this story. Except the word “ugly.” Not so happy with that. But, I could live with it.

  “The ugly maiden looked at her beautiful girlfriend, and said, ‘I’m beautiful on the inside, where it counts.’ The beautiful maiden replied, ‘Yeah, I get that, but you must admit, your nose looks like a giant zit.’”

  Huh?

  The kids howled because they thought it was so funny. “Giant zit, Jack! Get it?” Then my son blew up his cheeks and popped them like a giant zit exploding.

  Not my favorite language, but the kids laughed. A few parents tittered.

  Oddball continued. “Why would you say such terrible things to me, my love?”

  Yeah, why? That was mean.

  “Because I always tell you the truth, my love.”

  Well, okay. Still, it was mean. She could have said it in a nicer way.

  “Maybe my nose does look like a giant zit, but you could have said that in a nicer way.”

  Exactly.

  “The pretty maiden shrugged, and said, ‘Well, why don’t you tell me something honest in return?’”

  “Your nose is a chicken’s beak. It isn’t pretty at all, but no one wants to tell you the truth because your dad is rich.” Oddball waved his finger in the air as if making an important point. A ping of worry wormed its way into my brain. Several parents frowned and shifted their feet.

  Oddball continued the story, taking the part of the pretty maiden. “My nose is perfect, thank you very much. But, while we are being honest, your hair is a rat’s nest.”

  “My hair is natural, and your roots are showing!” Oddball was winding up, now standing, holding both hands in front of him as if imparting great wisdom to the children. I stepped in, my stomach sinking as the parents around me grumbled and shot me nasty looks.

  “I think that is the end of the story, Oddball! Very interesting, yes, yes, but how about we move on to the balloon animals?”

  Oddball shook his finger at the kids again, finishing with, “The moral of the story, children, is never tell the truth.”

  The children cracked up, loving the mixed-up tale with the sorry moral. Parents gritted their teeth but let the moment pass since the kids were whooping it up.

  “Ah, balloon animals!” Oddball announced, once again taking his seat on the milk crate. “Let me see what we have here. You, birthday boy. What kind of animal would you like?”

  I sighed with relief. Balloon animals were harmless fun.

  David jumped to his feet. “A dog!” he announced. “I want a dog.”

  “A dog it is!” Oddball blew into a red balloon and twisted it into several different knots and shapes. He finished with a flourish. “Look! I made a mosquito!”

  “Neato!” said David. “A giant mosquito is better than a dog.”

  I wasn’t so sure.

  Jack raised his hand. “Can you make me a bird?”

  “Of course, young man. Let me get a yellow balloon…” Oddball hummed and hawed as he once again twisted the balloon several different ways. He added a blue balloon to it, then another, and still another. “Regard! A spider!”

  Indeed, it was a spider with a complete set of legs and a giant abdomen. I scrunched my face, not certain about this approach, but Jack thought a big balloon spider was hilarious. Some of the parents backed up a few inches.

  Brian couldn’t stay still, waving his hand in the air. “I want a bumble bee! Can you do a bumble bee?”

  “Why young man, I shall try.” Oddball did his balloon magic and produced…

  “A hornet! Look at that stinger!”

  Brian’s mouth fell open. His voice was breathy with excitement. “Whoa. A hornet.”

  A fly. A cobra. A beetle the size of a cat. It seemed strange, but harmless. Nevertheless, I had a rock in the pit of stomach.

  Brian screamed. “The hornet stung me! Owwwww. Owwww. Moooooommmm!”

  “Ouch!” yelled Joseph, as his snapping turtle bit the tip of his finger.

  David scratched at his arm, drawing blood. “Mom, the mosquito bit me!”

  One-by-one, the bugs and scary creatures came to life. Parents threw themselves into the fray, fighting off a scorpion with a lawn chair, clobbering a poison dart frog with a grill plate. I squashed the fly with a spatula, hitting it several times to get it down for good. I was pissed because my spatula was ruined, covered in fly guts.

  Nathaniel thanked everyone left for coming, handing out party bags as the parents and kids scattered, running for the safety of their homes. “Enjoy the handmade caramel,” he said, as he thrust the bags into the hands of our departing guests, one man yelling that he was going to sue us for unlawful ownership of poisonous creatures.

  Which left me with a small army of noxious critters and an evil clown.

  I had help, though. Blaze killed the cobra with his clawed foot, and the wolf snapped the beetle in two, spitting it out with whuff of distaste. She shook her head and waggled her tongue as if she needed to gargle.

  Oddball glared at me with wide, crazy eyes, and he drooled in long strands down his costume. He tore at his bag and removed two balloons, twisting them into my favorite bee of all time—not. A yellow jacket. I had nightmares about yellow jackets ever since my eighth birthday party when a small battalion flew into the grape juice jug and drowned.

  The yellow jacket headed straight for me, aiming for my face and neck, so I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I ran for our garden hose as the yellow jacket and psychopathic clown chased me. I didn’t make it and got stung on the shoulder. I bellowed in pain. It felt like the largest hypodermic needle in the world had been jammed into my shoulder, bone deep, and the burning sensation made me think I was actually on fire. It took my breath away.

  “Why are you doing this?” I wheezed as the jacket and clown continued to give chase. I jumped a wood fence at the back of our yard, which didn’t matter to the yellow jacket but did slow down the clown because he hadn’t flipped off his giant red shoes. That gave me time to circle back around, jump the fence again, and beeline for the hose. I twisted the water on full force, brought the nozzle up, and blaste
d the yellow jacket, which had swelled to the size of a chihuahua. The yellow jacket flew into a wall of water and fell to the ground, belly up, legs clawing at the air in a futile attempt to flip itself over, its sodden wings useless. I didn’t feel the least bit sorry. My shoulder was swelling, and it stung like nothing I’d ever experienced. I didn’t know if I had enough Benadryl cream to cover it.

  Oddball drew himself up short and dodged the water, but a bit of the spray hit his arm, and he screamed in pain. Intrigued, I chased him with the hose and, in an exciting turn of events, he fled, running toward the back of the yard, attempting to get out of reach of the water. We’d installed an extra-long hose to reach the rose bushes, bushes that Oddball discovered all by himself. Caught in thorns and screaming un-clownlike epithets, he cringed when he saw me with the water.

  “Why are you here?” I demanded.

  “You have made a lot of enemies, Monster Hunter. There’s a bounty on your head if we bring you down.”

  “Who is we?”

  “Monsters, villains, devils, evildoers. Life would be better in Ohio without you, bitch.”

  “The Buckeye Bitch thing again.” I yawned.

  “If the foo shits, wear it, babe. Now, why don’t you put the water down, and I’ll leave, tail between my legs, okay?”

  “I’m curious about this water issue. Did you almost drown as a child?” I turned the water on him, and he went berserk, flailing and screeching.

  “I’m melting! I’m melting…I’m melting…woe is me…”

  The clown’s face dripped onto the costume in long, waxy drops. His body collapsed into a tacky puddle of goo, leaving a blue, yellow, and red stain on the grass.

  Nathaniel appeared at my side. We stared at the Crayola mixture seeping into the grass. “I wonder if Frank Baum met this guy?” he said.

  I recoiled the hose. “It would explain a few things, but I’m wondering what happened to the real Oddball. Or, is this the real Oddball, and he was evil the whole time? If he was the real guy, didn’t he ever shower? This is a conundrum.”

  “I don’t think any of that is your problem. Let’s some ice on this sting,” Nathaniel said, touching the tips of his fingers together, shuddering at the sight of the wound. “This is going to prick a bit, and we need to conjure an explanation for all of this, or the kids won’t play with the neighbors ever again.”

  “We could tell them that Oddball placed his crate over an unknown wasp nest. That would explain the stings,” I said.

  “Nature science experiment out of control?” he offered.

  “Maybe realistic mechanical toys under recall?”

  Nathaniel snapped his fingers. “Illusionist!”

  I shook my head and nodded thanks as he opened the back door for me. I collapsed into a kitchen chair while David, Devi, and Daniel fluttered around me, asking if I was okay.

  “He was a magic bad guy, wasn’t he, Mom?” asked the too-old-for-his-years David.

  “Yeah, pumpkin. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “It was cool, Mom! How many people get balloon spiders at their party?” He had a wide smile on his face. “Don’t worry, Mom, they’ll all forget the magic stuff soon. They never remember it.”

  Devi nodded her little head in agreement, and her hair, askew as always, bounced along. “It’s true, Mom. David’s right.”

  Daniel handed me an ice pack.

  “How did the three-year old get an ice pack from the top shelf of the freezer?” I asked. “And, how did no one see him do it?”

  Nathaniel shrugged, too exhausted to worry about it. “He’s resourceful,” he said, tugging Daniel’s ear and gathering him in a hug.

  Chapter Three

  Liam spat a good Malbec out his nose and lay his forehead on the kitchen table, trying, and failing, to keep a straight face.

  He stumbled an apology. “Oh, oh, I’m so sorry, Jess…but Blaze is a pony? And you need a permit for him? This is too funny.”

  “I don’t need a permit. I can’t get one at all. He’s considered livestock and is outlawed by the Neighborhood Association code.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Hey, sport!” Liam hugged David, who’d run into the kitchen to see him. “I got you a present.”

  “Really? What?” The kids always got the best presents from Uncle Liam.

  “Guess.”

  David wiggled and played with his loose front tooth. “Is it bigger than a bread box?”

  Liam shook his head with a sigh. “No. Sorry. Try again.”

  “A book?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good. I don’t want another book.”

  I gasped. “That. That is a knife to my heart.”

  Liam said, “Speaking of knives…” He handed David a small box. I threw Liam a glance. What was he up to?

  “A pocketknife! Wow, Uncle Liam! This is the best present ever.” David jumped up and gave Liam a huge hug, not minding that Liam’s skin always ran a little cold.

  I scowled at Liam. “What are you doing? He’s only nine!”

  Liam replied, “Nine is a perfect age for a first pocket knife. This is a Swiss Army Recruit Knife. It’s good for smaller hands.”

  Nathaniel wandered in. “Hey, whatcha got there, David?” David held up his new red knife.

  “A pocketknife? Fantastic. Thanks, Liam. Nine is a great age for a pocketknife.”

  Liam stuck his tongue out at me.

  Nathaniel gave Liam a wink. “Come on, David. Let me show you how this works. The most important safety tip is to never, ever, carry the knife around with an open blade.”

  “Where’s the wolf?” Liam asked, when they were out of earshot.

  “She’s made a den under the deck. She hunts on her own at night and our garden has never looked better.”

  Liam crinkled his nose in confusion.

  “No rabbits, gophers, moles, voles, or other such ilk to eat my tomatoes. Even the deer stay away. Last time I counted, we had a herd of twelve running around our back yard, but no more. I’ve got daffodils again.”

  We returned to the real topic at hand. Liam peeked under the bandage on my shoulder, winced, and let it go. I hissed in pain as the fabric touched the wound.

  “You’re going to need an antihistamine. It’s as large as a plastic food storage lid. You know, the kind you get soup in from Chinese restaurants? Several inches across? It’s like yay big…”

  “I know what you mean, Liam. I got it, no need for pictograms. It hurts a lot, too.”

  “What I want to know about is the bounty,” Liam said, getting serious. He retrieved some cortisone cream from the third drawer down near the sink and gestured for me to remove the bandage.

  “I wonder how much it is,” I said, thumbnail in my teeth because otherwise I’d shriek as Liam spread the white cream on my skin.

  Liam nodded. “And who is offering it? That’s important. My bet is Pascal.”

  “I agree. It’s the only thing that makes sense, and yet, he wants to kill me face-to-face, all personal-like. He’s the only real supernatural baddie with the mojo to do this, but it doesn’t feel right.”

  “I’ll ask around.”

  “Don’t get staked.”

  “Never do. Except that one time…”

  “What?”

  Liam grinned. “Kidding.”

  “Ha, so funny. Not.”

  Liam pushed back in his chair so only the two back legs were on the ground. I hate when my kids do that, so I threw him a glare, which he ignored. “By the way, the zoo posted an ad about a missing wolf. I’m betting it’s the wolf under the deck.”

  I thought about this for a moment. I still wasn’t sure what danger she expected, unless maybe it was Oddball? If so, she could go home. “Let’s go talk to her.”

  We tromped outside, and I gestured for Blaze to join us. “Can you please ask our wolf friend to come out and chat?”

  Blaze peeked under the deck, did that communing t
hing he did with other species, and the wolf came out fixing her eye on me.

  What is it, den mother? Blaze translated.

  “I’m wondering if you could be more specific about the type of danger you fear is looming. I can’t prepare for battle without more details.”

  I have images of a black presence searching for your pack.

  “Specifically my children, or is my husband targeted also?”

  I can’t tell. Only that your pack is in danger. Your mate could be at risk, or your pups. I came to help you, but I don’t have anything else.

  “Thanks for coming. What’s your name?”

  The wolf appeared puzzled by this question.

  I’m mate to alpha.

  “Yes, I get that, but we like to use names. It is a way of being polite.”

  I fail to understand this, but you can give me a name, if you would like.

  “That’s a big responsibility.”

  A name is important?

  “Yes.”

  Then, choose wisely. I should not like an unworthy name.

  I took this responsibility seriously. Names have power. Whatever I named her could have consequences. I left the three to chat amongst themselves while I rifled through my mental mythology rolodex for something that would suit. I mucked around in the garden, pulling weeds, letting my mind roam. When that didn’t work, I went for a walk around the block. Finally, it came to me.

  “Shura,” I told her. “It means ‘protector of humanity’ in Greek and Russian. It’s a royal name, but also one related to the gods, particularly Hera, the mate of the Greek pantheon’s alpha, Zeus.”

  The wolf considered it and nodded her acceptance. “It’s a strong name.”

  Liam had gone inside for a while but came out to join us. He made an important point. “Shura, I believe the zoo is looking for you.”

  The wolf opened her mouth in a wide grin, teeth on display. I will go home to my pack when my work is done.

  “How did you get out?” Liam asked.

  The wolf turned her face in an obvious expression of, I’m telling you.

  “Do you think the zoo officials know you are here?” I asked. This is the precise moment I discovered that wolves can shrug. Crazy.