by T S Paul
“I was a lot younger for those things. What’s Mom making for dinner?” I never knew what to expect from her. American food or some of what she called traditional food. Which meant Russian. It was hard to believe sometimes that we were from there.
“Don’t know. You will eat it and enjoy it. She works hard taking care of you and you need to show some respect for her.”
Dad drove past a couple of higher end neighborhoods on his way to our house. Madison was a growing place, tons of new construction. Most of the town businesses were retail or restaurants, but there was still money to be made here. Huntsville was too congested, so much of the money came from out-of-towners to Madison.
Our house was in a small subdivision right on the edge of the county line. Dad found this place at the recommendation of a guy he met in San Francisco. Or that was the story I was told. We pulled into the driveway and got out. I guess I should say he got out and I sort of fell out. Clumsy was my middle name.
“Why don’t you take some of that money you’re getting from the sow and fix my car door? You broke it after all.” Dad smirked as he watched me scramble to stand up. Big guys aren’t all that agile.
Making a face, I replied, “I was going to use it to move out of the garage, but if you insist I can call Johnny over at the body shop.”
Even as I said his name, I regretted it. Johnny and Dad had a history of sorts.
“Johnny? Isn’t he the one that got you started on that crap that lost you your job at the FBI? Just leave it. I’ll fix it another time. Stupid child.” Dad growled at me as he yanked open the door and went up the stairs. They creaked and moaned as he climbed. Adult polar bears weigh a lot!
The FBI job was a big deal with my family. It was supposed to give the family some legitimacy according to Dad. Like everything else in my life, I screwed that up too. I really should have listened to my friends Chuck and Catherine. Regrets are something you cannot forget sometimes.
“Beorn is that you?”
Mom was in the kitchen. The inside of our house looked well lived in because it was. Built in the 1950s, the house was a split-level ranch style. The garage, a newish addition, was built into the hill and actually lower than the house itself. As a child I called it the bomb shelter, a name both my parents hated.
“He’s mad at me again, Mom. I think he went to your room. What’s for dinner?”
My mother was beautiful with her silver hair and full figure. I’d heard the story of their meeting many times, but I’d often wondered what attracted her to him. Dad wasn’t exactly Valentino.
“I thought you might like something other than barbecue, so I made spaghetti and meatballs,” she replied. Giving me a stern look, she just shook her head at me. “What did you say to him now? He’s been trying really hard to understand you.”
“Just Johnny. We were discussing the car door,” I explained, hanging my head down.
“Ah. Mongo, your father is very old school. He holds grudges much longer than you do. Your friends got you into so much trouble once upon a time. It’s hard for a parent to forgive easily, do you understand?”
“Mom, I love you.” I smiled at her as I leaned over the stove and sniffed at the big pot of sauce. It had a very familiar aroma. Taking a long sniff, I pulled my head back in shock. No way!
At my funny look, Mom smiled. “The butcher shop is now carrying them. He said something about the government pushing it as a way to eliminate an invasive species.”
There was Jackalope in the pot! One of my friends at school accidentally created them when a spell went wild. Agatha Blackmore is the Witch in charge of the Magickal Crimes division of the FBI. Her team is made up of about half my friends. It’s also sort of my fault the Jackalopes spread from Virginia to Kentucky and other places. Only my buddy Chuck knows the whole story and I swore him to secrecy. Catherine would kill the both of us for it. I just knew it.
That’s a lesson for you about Weres. Never piss off the Pack leader by doing something so stupid it brings down the wrath of the mundanes on you. I’m sure the Park service would simply love to get ahold of me about now.
I have the best mother in the world!
I couldn’t wait for dad to try the food. It was the barbecue craze that I created at school that gave me the idea to come home in the first place. Well, that and I was suddenly unemployed. If Jacks were now available at the butcher maybe we could sell them in the restaurant!
“Whatever that is, it sure smells good!” Dad said from behind us.
I looked up and smiled. Dad could be quiet when he wanted to be.
“You two sit down. I will set the table.” My mom shooed us both into the small dining area. I couldn’t ever remember her asking for help in the kitchen.
“Is that those Jackalopes you were telling me about?” Dad asked, pointing toward the kitchen stove.
“Yes! Mom said the butcher is now selling them. We should sell them at the restaurant. I have a couple of really good recipes from school that Chuck and I came up with.” My stomach rumbled at the thought of a Jack and Cheese sandwich.
“Hmm. I will have to test them. Would you like a glass too? Umka has extra just in case.” Knowing what was coming, I almost threw up in my mouth. This part freaked me out my whole life.
“Here we go boys.” Mom backed into the room with a couple of big trays. She was still the best waitress the restaurant had ever had.
My stomach growled a little as she placed the big bowl of pasta on the table as well as a cold drink for me. She placed a large steaming cup in front of dad.
“How can you drink that?” I asked him.
He looked over the steaming cup and frowned at me. “Tradition, son. We have discussed this before. If you look at our history, older polar bears subsist on the rich fat of seals and other sea creatures. It’s the young such as you that require all the regular food. Besides, I eat barbecue all day. This is just my treat.”
I turned my head so I didn’t have to watch my father drink the steaming cup of Jackalope fat and grease. Dad was a traditionalist all right. He’d claimed before that this was the best way to test whether a product was worthy of the restaurant. Either way, it just about made me sick!
Still shuddering, I turned to mom. “I got a case today.”
Mom smiled at me. Ever the lady she unfolded her napkin laying it across her lap before picking up her fork. “Did you really? That’s nice Mongo.”
“Ask him about the sow that kissed him today. You listen to your old man, Mongo. That sow smells like trouble to me.” Dad took another deep drink of his fat.
I shuddered again and closed my eyes. Maybe if I ignored him, he would stop. “Mom tell him to stop calling her a sow! She’s a really nice lady.”
“Mongo. I…” My mother practically stuttered to a stop. The day Mom went against Dad’s wishes was the day the Earth would grind to a halt. Traditions, you know.
“You need to get your nose checked boy. Those drugs have addled you brain as well as your sniffer. Just trust your old dad here on that. She’s nothing but trouble.” He drank the last of the fat and dug into the bowl of noodles mom fixed for him.
Ignoring my stomach, I pushed my bowl away disgusted. “I’m not hungry. Don’t wait up, I have a case to pursue.”
There are many things in my life I regret and my reasons for leaving the FBI are one of them. I have only myself to blame for it, regardless of what my friends at the time told. The boys from the commune would have said I had a California attitude in Squaresville. We only lived there for a short while when I was young, but bears are impressionable and free love mixed with drugs is never a good combination.
Fifty dollars would go a long way to getting my immediate finances under control. This Blaise guy lived about thirty minutes from my parents' house. With luck his unit was on the outside and observable from the road. If not, I would have to get creative to get inside. Seven-foot guys with white hair and Hawaiian shirts sort of stuck out in this part of town.
Chapter 3
The light was fading fast, so I had to be quick. Northern Alabama got dark really fast. Grabbing a clipboard and package from my trunk, I approached the complex. In practice runs before taking the private investigator license test, this technique had worked as a way to get information about a subject. Lots of messenger services in a big city like Huntsville.
Getting through the gate was easy. Finding the condo wasn’t. Pascal’s place was in the exact center of the complex overlooking the pool. It was a really nice pool too. Olympic sized with jacuzzis and everything.
I could just imagine Elisha in a skimpy bikini racing down the sidewalk as she dove into the deep end. In my mind’s eye I saw her feet leave the concrete and her body fly through the air. With gentle ease she broke the gleaming surface of the water like a seal broaching. I could see shimmering drops as they ran down her body over her swelling bre--
“Hey mister! Are you lost?”
Shaking my head to come back to the here and now, I looked down into the eyes of a guy almost my size. Pasty white with skin like a ghost the guy had a small dog tucked up under his arm. A growling small dog.
“Nope. Just the wrong address dude. I think they transposed the numbers somehow,” I answered.
“What’s the address? Maybe Brutus and I can help you.”
“It’s all good dude. I just deliver them. Dispatch can deal with address issues. Thanks though.” Stepping past him and his little dog I walked closer to the pool. It was too bad my dream girl wasn’t real.
“Daydreams are gonna get you into trouble one day,” I muttered to myself.
As I turned to leave a sign caught my attention. Finally, a lead I could use. Stuffing my package and clipboard into a trashcan I grabbed the notice that they were hiring lifeguards and knocked on the door of the office. Polar bears could swim after all and the lifeguard chair looked right into Pascal’s apartment!
Getting the job was easy. Management at the Lazy Magnolia was a bit desperate. School was back in and none of the college kids wanted the low paying gig. The lure of video games and the mall was too much for them. I just thought of it as extra cash and a chance to work on my tan as well as surveillance.
I really couldn’t wait to text Chuck and show him my new job location. The last time I heard from him he was running around Maine. He and the team were in Witch central because of the Demon incursions. I’d seen the footage from Charleston on the tv. If anyone could fight stuff like that it was the Magical Division.
The best part was that I saw what I thought was the computer with Pascal, the ex boyfriend! He’d actually had it out with him.
As the contract stated I called Elisha and she actually answered.
“Hey baby.”
Pulling the phone away from my head I stared at it for a moment.
“Elisha? This is Mongo with your update.” I almost stuttered out. Talking to girls was hard.
“I know who it is, baby. Do you miss me?”
My brain froze for just a moment as I considered what she was saying.
“Uh, I mean I’ve been trying to get in touch with you to update you on Pascal. I’ve seen your computer in his possession. As you said, he takes it everywhere. You forgot to mention he didn’t drive his own car.” I stated.
A big black suburban, like the kind government agents drive had picked the man up. Driving those was one of my jobs with the FBI so I could spot them.
“Sorry, baby. That was my mistake. Does he ever leave it at home?” Her voice was very seductive to my sensitive ears.
“I’m not sure. I’ve been watching his place all day and he does leave it sitting on the kitchen table every morning for an hour or two. That might be when he bathes or sleeps. Elisha? Did you hear me?” I asked. She’d gotten really quiet all of a sudden.
“Yes, baby,” she whispered to me.
“What exactly is on this computer? I know you said business stuff, but if it’s blackmail pics or something, you can just call the cops.” I scratched my head. This was a lot of trouble for a simple laptop.
She started laughing. “Nothing like that sweetie! All my business records as well as future plans are in there. Proprietary stuff. What he’s really after is my client list. The longer he has it, the more time he has time to hack into it, that’s all. Promise.”
We talked for a few more minutes. She promised to let me take her out to dinner just as soon as she got her stuff back. Elisha was really confusing me.
Chapter 4
The Lazy Magnolia agreed to work around my waiter schedule which actually helped my cover story. It made me sound more like a typical civilian.
I wore board shorts and a lifeguard t-shirt the next day to work. Bradford, the complex manager, hadn’t even blinked at my appearance when I’d walked in. They were that desperate for workers. I looked pretty funny. White dreadlocks, tight shirt and shorts, flip-flops on my feet. And body hair. Lots and lots of white body hair. At school they’d joked I looked like a Yeti when I stripped down. I would only answer that Yetis wished they looked this good!
Watching bikini-clad honeys running around the pool with one eye, I watched my target with the other. He had to be the most boring man on the planet. All he did was type on a small computer on his desk. Not a video game in sight. It matched Elisha’s description perfectly. Boring.
As a lifeguard I had to swim with the honeys at least three times a day. I tried to save those for when my subject was out of sight or at work. Following him was impossible. A private car picked him up and dropped him off each day. My computer searches showed he didn’t even own a car like the Suburban.
“Mongo, I was telling my friend here that you could swim the length of the pool twice underwater and still not need air. Can you show her?”
The speaker was one of the honeys. A redhead in a bikini that barely covered anything important. To me she smelled a bit like roses. She didn’t spark my hormones like Elisha did. Which was strange. Her friend was of similar build, but a brunette. I’d gathered from their conversation that they both worked at the local Hooters. I’d eaten there a few times. Good chicken, but hot sauce wasn’t really my jam.
Glancing at Pascal’s house I couldn’t see him in any of the windows.
“I don’t know about that. They pay me to watch you girls not show off.”
“Please? If you get into trouble, I promise we will say we asked you to do it!” Some of the other young folk around the pool started shouting my name. I was pretty popular already.
Sighing I took off my shirt and hat. My white hair gleamed in the sun. “What the hell. How many laps did you say?”
“Two? And underwater,” the first girl said.
Standing at the end of the deep end I looked at the pool. It was one-hundred-sixty-four feet long. The manager told me one of the original owners was a former Olympian and he made sure the pool was up to his personal standards. Our cousins, natural polar bears, could swim over two-hundred miles without rest and hold their breath for at least three minutes. Werebears could go longer. A lot longer. Time for me to show off a bit.
The shock of the cold water surprised me. The cold front that rolled through the area last night must have affected the water more than I thought it would. But I was a polar bear. Who cares about cold?
Diving deep I kicked with my feet and used my hands to pull. Polar bears have very large paws to use for swimming. My body shot across the floor of the pool. Tagging the wall, I used my legs to push off. By my mental calculations I could hold my breath a lot longer than three minutes, but Dad always told me to not show off. Humans needed hard definitions of what was possible and impossible. Shifters tossed a monkey wrench into all that. Less is more he used to say.
Coming up for air half way into my third lap I gasped for breath. All around me people were cheering and waving.
“That was awesome!” The two girls that initially approached me screamed. Looking up, I could see Bradford, the complex manager, give me a thumbs up from the balcony overlooking the pool
. It made me feel less guilty about watching the girls if that is what he did all day.
As I pulled myself out of the pool, I glanced around. Pascal was actually out of his home and sitting at the pool! And he had the computer with him. How did I miss that?
“Who’s that guy over there? I haven’t seen him here before.” I nodded toward Pascal.
Joanie or Jennie, they all had names like that, looked over her shoulder and frowned. “He lives over there.” She pointed. “There used to be a real bitch of a chick living with him, but she left.”
Internally I frowned at her description of Elisha but I kept it to myself. No need to blow my cover now.
“Yeah, he comes out sometimes, but he's always got his computer with him. Kinda boring actually. He runs some big computer company out by the base or something,” the brunette answered with a bored look on her face.
“Oh, OK. I need to get back in the chair. Can’t have anyone drowning out here.”
I climbed up the short ladder and sat down. I was too wet to put my shirt back. It was a warm day. I’d dry off. Like before I kept one eye on the swimmers and one on Pascal. Something was fishy here, and I needed clarification. Besides, Elisha had only paid me for the first hour and I’d worked three full days so far. Time to call my client again.
Every time I had called recently there was no answer. I started to leave my regular message except this time I included the information of my spotting the computer in question. Elisha contacted me as soon as I hung up.
“Mongo, thanks for letting me know. Does he still have the computer on him?”
“He does. Elisha, I need to meet with you. I’ve worked for three days on this so far and need more money from you. Can you meet at the restaurant again?”
This contract was starting to feel really funny to me. Something was off and I wasn’t sure if it was me or not.