I dialed. \u00a0I waited through the ringing. \u00a0I acknowledged that I liked the ringing rather than having to listen to someone’s choice of tinny music through a tinny speaker. \u00a0I know it’s getting better, but somehow the recorded ringer music always just seemed abrupt and distorted.\u00a0 And yes, I liked the scritchy noise of vinyl.\u00a0 It gave music another layer of sound. Which isn’t to say I don’t have just about everything I like on mp3, just that I appreciate the different layers, like a parfait, or an ogre.<\/p>\n
She picked up.<\/p>\n
“Hi, Rohana. Don’t hang up.”<\/p>\n
“Really?” she asked. \u00a0“Why would I bother answering it just to hang up on you?\u00a0 I have caller ID. I could have let it go to voicemail.”<\/p>\n
“I guess you would have been making a point.”<\/p>\n
“Speaking of which,” she trailed off.<\/p>\n
“Um, yeah. My point. \u00a0Do you know… wow, this sounds kind of crazy. \u00a0Except I’m not.”<\/p>\n
“Professional opinion precluded.”<\/p>\n
“You’re a professional? That’s what I’m looking for.”<\/p>\n
“Well, not that type, I have to admit.” \u00a0Rohana paused. \u00a0“You need a shrink?”<\/p>\n
“I want to waggle my eyebrows at that and say that `that’s what she said,’ but I just don’t like the term. I mean I need to \u00a0expand my horizons, not make them smaller.”<\/p>\n
“I thought men feared commitment.”<\/p>\n
I chuckled. “I don’t think I’m that far gone.”<\/p>\n
“It’s the weird stuff, isn’t it?\u00a0 Getting to you?” she asked. There was kind of a thing in her voice, like an angle to the question.<\/p>\n
“Well, I’m looking for someone who isn’t shy about the weird, for sure.\u00a0 Someone clued in, you know?”<\/p>\n
“A witch?” she asked, and if there was doubt in her voice I couldn’t fault her.<\/p>\n
“If that’s the way it has to go…” I trailed off.<\/p>\n
“Yeah.”\u00a0 She sighed.\u00a0 “You owe me for this.”<\/p>\n
“I’ll owe you, yes.”\u00a0 It had magical consequences, but if I trusted her this far, I was going to have to continue.<\/p>\n
“I know people.\u00a0 Healers do their frickin’ best not to get involved in wars, but someone always drags us in,” she sighed again.<\/p>\n
“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m neutral. I’m Switzerland.\u00a0 I just close doors and run and hide when there looks to be fighting. I’m no hero.”<\/p>\n
“Huh,” she grunted.\u00a0 “You.\u00a0 Not a hero.\u00a0 Aren’t you a gamer?”<\/p>\n
“Um, yeah. So I know that magic items are worse than live grenades.\u00a0 To run away from dragons and liches and to kill all the orcs, if we’re name-calling.”<\/p>\n
“Gamers have the biggest hero complexes. White knights, have to go rescue people, have to go see through the evil plans.”<\/p>\n
“That’s not me,” I denied, immediately.<\/p>\n
“Really? If Maggie called you for help, what would you do?” she asked.\u00a0 I thought I remembered someone else asking me this question.\u00a0 Why would the answer change?<\/p>\n
“I’m wounded, really, I am.”\u00a0 I sighed.\u00a0 “I’d think about it.\u00a0 I’d think more about hanging up.\u00a0 Or not answering the phone at all.”\u00a0I shook my head.\u00a0 “I wouldn’t do it.”<\/p>\n
“But it’d eat you up inside, wouldn’t it?”<\/p>\n
“She doesn’t deserve it from me.”\u00a0 Time heals all wounds, they say.\u00a0 Even the ones that leave scars.\u00a0 I could be the Fisher King, or I could heal, I guess.<\/p>\n
“Good.\u00a0 Keep telling yourself that.\u00a0 Alright, I’ll text you an address and a name when I get the okay.”<\/p>\n
“The okay?” I was pretty much sure she just meant in contact with the mysterious stranger, but I figured I’d ask.\u00a0 More information certainly couldn’t hurt.<\/p>\n
“She’s a bit of a recluse, this one. Hermit up on the mountain kind of schtick,” Rohana chuckled a bit. “You’ll get along great.”<\/p>\n
“Thanks, I think.”<\/p>\n
She just chuckled again and hung up.\u00a0 I sighed.<\/p>\n
Lunch was pretty forgettable.\u00a0 The spriggan sibs were consulting over a map of what, at a glance, looked like Middle Earth.\u00a0 They had a lot of ways to keep themselves busy and unattached to the real world. It could be a lot worse; they could be into politics.<\/p>\n
I played some match-3 games while eating, just to fill the time.\u00a0 Zach had been a bad influence on me, bringing out just the slightest bit of a competitive edge where the gamification was concerned; sometimes getting more points than him was the whole exercise.\u00a0 I preferred the match-3 games with multiple conditions, I decided, rather than simply a counter for reward.<\/p>\n
My phone beeped its “text message” chime, and I pulled it out of my pocket in a hurry.\u00a0 A name and an address. \u00a0Senga.\u00a0 The name was not familiar, but the address was fairly close.\u00a0 Walking close if it was nice out, at least.<\/p>\n
I pulled aside the blind in the front window and looked out.\u00a0 Like many a day, the reply was hazy and I should try again. I was no good with weather; there were too many variables, too many wishes in the mix.\u00a0 But it was nice enough to keep the windows open, so I figured it would be a good walk.<\/p>\n
“Who’s my babysitter for my next adventure?” I asked the muttering fey.<\/p>\n
Nen looked up. “Self-denigration is a sign of concern over the imbalance of power,” he said. “It’s an asymmetrical form of humour.”<\/p>\n
“Have you been reading the psychology books again?” I asked.<\/p>\n
“Maybe,” he grinned.\u00a0 “That said, remember the principle that the parent is often grounded along with the child, and maybe you will see that it isn’t that out of whack.”<\/p>\n
“‘Whack’ being one of those official psychological terms, I suppose?”<\/p>\n
“Along with ‘whoo-hoo’ and the vertical circling of a finger by the head,” he agreed.<\/p>\n
“Good to know. \u00a0I just doubt that I can shout, ‘You have no power over me,’ and you flutter away like a deck of cards. \u00a0Or are dealt away. \u00a0Huh – that sounds a bit more gangster than I meant. \u00a0Shuffled away,” I decided.<\/p>\n
“If you have not yet guessed the provenance of our task, I am still bound not to reveal it,” he sighed. \u00a0“Rayya will be remaining to protect the things here, and I shall travel with you.”<\/p>\n
“Yay,” I said with all the enthusiasm I felt. I got up, slipped on some shoes, and grabbed my jacket. \u00a0It was looking weathered, and kind of the worse for it. \u00a0Of course, salt water on suede was probably a metaphor somewhere.<\/p>\n
Nen brushed back his hair, and smoothed out his skirt. Or whatever. \u00a0I thought about asking him to change, but realized he probably didn’t have much to say about my wardrobe, either. \u00a0Maybe I’d ask him to do his hiding-away-in-plain-sight thing when we got there.<\/p>\n
He seemed content to follow as I walked down the steps and down the street. \u00a0My neighbor Bea was working on her lawn, doing whatever kind of esoteric pieces kept it green and lush. She waved a distracted hand at me, and I nodded as I passed. \u00a0She gave a dirty glance at Nen, but I expected it. However she saw him, at least she hadn’t called social services on me. It was probably the plaid.<\/p>\n
Colorado gets a ridiculous amount of sunshine, and despite the haze, today was no exception. \u00a0I was warm in just half a block, but not confident enough to take off the jacket. \u00a0A burst of wind could cut to the bone. \u00a0Nen didn’t keep up a conversation, so I just enjoyed the quiet. \u00a0A car passed. \u00a0A whirlwind of crows rose up from the park nearby, their cawing suggesting some kind of dispute being taken to parliament. \u00a0A sparrow flashed in front of me, and one of the neighborhood cats watched us with its orange-green eyes. \u00a0The sidewalk curved for wheelchair access, the red cobbles a momentary break in the monotony of grey concrete. \u00a0I looked both ways before crossing. \u00a0Safety first and all.<\/p>\n
Nen made a “hsst,” noise, and I felt a gentle tug on my sleeve. \u00a0“‘Ware,” he said.<\/p>\n
“Or you’ll go all Paul Bunyan?” I asked, looking around. \u00a0Nen and Rayya very rarely touched me or anybody else, and that shocked me for a moment. \u00a0He didn’t respond to the comment, though. \u00a0It was the plaid.<\/p>\n
I didn’t see anything suspicious. \u00a0A truck parked on the road. \u00a0A mailbox. \u00a0A couple of light poles. \u00a0Well-kept fencing. \u00a0An ad for a cell phone company that allows free calls to Mexico. \u00a0I guess the crushed convenience store cup might have been a monster in disguise. I was still suspicious of leftover rubber tread on the road, after all. \u00a0And I avoided prairie dogs as if they might have the plague.<\/p>\n
“If our path takes us to the right, let me have the place on your left,” he said.<\/p>\n
“Um, sure,” I said. \u00a0“Mind telling me what to watch out for? \u00a0Will I need to duck, or roll to the side, or what?”<\/p>\n
“Can you not sense it?” he asked.<\/p>\n
“Uh, human, remember?”<\/p>\n
He growled. \u00a0“An unnecessary distinction. \u00a0You are not … inert,” he decided.<\/p>\n
“Nope, I’m also not a quiescent confection.” \u00a0I was pretty sure I knew what he meant, but I wanted to yank his chain a bit anyway.<\/p>\n
“You are not unaware of the energy flows,” he said, sounding frustrated.<\/p>\n
“No, but I usually have to concentrate to find them. \u00a0If they’re obvious, I’m in the wrong place and should be backing off quickly.”<\/p>\n
“So you answer your own question,” he said.<\/p>\n
“Ah, the old exercise for the student.” \u00a0I rolled my eyes. \u00a0I stopped next to the truck and half-closed my eyes, trying to open myself up to the currents of power. \u00a0 There was something… something I would describe as big, but it was more that it was not there, a null space somewhere up ahead. \u00a0Odd.<\/p>\n
“Does our quest take that route?” he asked.<\/p>\n
“Um, yeah.” \u00a0I had a feeling that it took us right to it. \u00a0I released my attention on the flows and went back to paying attention to the sun on my back and the world more mundane. \u00a0“‘Fraid so.”<\/p>\n
He glanced up at me, as if he were going to ask something more, but then shrugged and took the left hand side. \u00a0His stride grew slightly to match mine.<\/p>\n
I made my way gingerly across a major street, and then between cars packed in for parking on both sides of the road. \u00a0The houses here were nicer than just a few blocks away, more personality, less clone-stamp. \u00a0A mailbox decorated with birds, the hinge to hold it shut cleverly painted a hooked beak. \u00a0A lattice where roses lazily climbed. \u00a0A dozen porches, most with one or two chairs. \u00a0A lone newspaper sadly abandoned in its plastic sheathe.<\/p>\n
The house showed tan brick and dark red painted wood. \u00a0A line of bindweed wrapped near the fence. \u00a0Everything had strong lines and a bit of a boxy nature to it. \u00a0I checked the address. \u00a0“This is it,” I said.<\/p>\n
“I cannae go in there,” Nen said, concerned.<\/p>\n
“What, bad mojo?” I asked.<\/p>\n
“Nae, I cannae enter.”<\/p>\n
I looked around. \u00a0He’d gone all Scottish on me again. \u00a0No horseshoes. \u00a0No sprays of “fae-be-gone” that I could see or smell. \u00a0“What’s wrong?” I asked.<\/p>\n
He gestured. \u00a0“If’n ye go in there, ye are on yer own,” he said. \u00a0“Of course, ye should be perfectly safe.” \u00a0He didn’t sound convincing.<\/p>\n
“I don’t understand. \u00a0Why can’t you go in?” I tried reaching out again… and was blocked by the most powerful door I had ever felt. \u00a0Someone really, really, didn’t want anything inside.<\/p>\n
All there was obviously was a white metal gate, with a handle and a latch, up a couple of stone stairs. \u00a0Nothing like the level of shielding I could feel. \u00a0I listened to the comforting thrum of a door in harmony with its surroundings. \u00a0I liked this place.<\/p>\n
“I will await ye here,” he said.<\/p>\n
“Okie-dokie,” I said. \u00a0I opened up the gate and let myself in, closing it behind me. \u00a0Once inside the shields, I felt even better. \u00a0Familiar. \u00a0Kind of like Zach’s work. \u00a0I figured it out, quickly. \u00a0Whatever else this Senga was, she was a Closer.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A lovely day for a walk.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1001002,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[23],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1534","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-chapter-09-opener"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3-2-1-boom.com\/doctor-e\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1534","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3-2-1-boom.com\/doctor-e\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3-2-1-boom.com\/doctor-e\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3-2-1-boom.com\/doctor-e\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1001002"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3-2-1-boom.com\/doctor-e\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1534"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.3-2-1-boom.com\/doctor-e\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1534\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3-2-1-boom.com\/doctor-e\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1534"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3-2-1-boom.com\/doctor-e\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1534"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3-2-1-boom.com\/doctor-e\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1534"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}