Renhala

by Amy Joy Lutchen

  But before I can marvel any longer, I am suddenly beneath Gunthreon’s stars again, sprawled across the bed. I sit up, sensing someone else’s energy in the room with me. Gunthreon sits motionless in the armchair across from the bed, staring at me.

  “Gunthreon, you scared me!” I sputter.

  He sits still, dark in the shadows. “Where did you go this time, Kailey?”

  I smell a hint of accusation in his voice and it makes me fidget in bed. “He has Mortimer!” I exclaim. “And the UFOE are involved!”

  “Who has Mortimer?”

  “Devoten!”

  “Visited Devoten again, eh, Kailey?” he says. “It seems you know a lot for such brief travels.” He hesitates and his energy begins rippling, slowly turning to larger waves of hot fire. “Don’t dig too deep...without reinforcements. I’d hate to find out this is a trap of some sort—a camouflaged abyss. It would be most unpleasant for those involved, don’t you think? One wrong step, and you’ll find yourself falling. I think it best we don’t mention this to the others.” His energy sizzles and ebbs.

  I sit, totally befuddled. Not knowing where he’s going with this, I just agree. He gets up and leaves the room, not making a sound, and as he stands in the doorway, he seems to grow in size, looming above me. Then he’s gone.

  I spend my time lying there, with my eyes open, too afraid to sleep, thoughts of deception twirling like a tornado in my head. The single word informant brings pain to my stomach as I lie, considering possible motives for each and every being around me.

  When the sun rises, it comes with fear of what the shadows hide.

  Chapter 50

  Inquisitive

  The day spent with my fellow travelers is short and not so sweet. The memory of Gunthreon’s silhouette in the door frazzles my nerves as I watch him move about Spirit Cave, chatting with everyone, individually. He catches me watching him and smiles. His once charming smile, is now just eerie.

  Gunthreon ignores my animals, so in my mind, they’re safe territory. Kioto loves my attention at first, but finally gets tired of me, giving me a low growl and walking away when I try painting her nails. Cheeto steps in and takes her place, but there’s only so much ceetchan-petting one can take.

  When my smartphone rings, I pull it away from Jenna. “Hi, mom. Whatch’ya up to?” I ask.

  “Not much,” she replies. “Just trying on some old dresses of mine. I shouldn’t complain, but they’re all too big on me now. Maybe you can have them.”

  I laugh at her jab. “And did you keep the matching leg-warmers, too?” We both know she hasn’t been in a dress since the mid-eighties.

  “Smartass.”

  “I take after my mom.”

  I hear her closet door close. “Did you have fun at Gunthreon’s place?”

  “Uh, sort of.” My voice lowers a bit. “Mom, how much do you trust Gunthreon?”

  She pauses for longer than I’d like. “About ninety-nine percent. Why?”

  “So only ninety-nine.”

  “The only person I trust wholeheartedly is you,” she says. “I put my faith in Gunthreon. Why do you ask?”

  Just before I can respond, Gunthreon appears next to me. “Kailey, tell your mother we missed her last night,” he says. His eyebrows rise slightly.

  “Mom, I gotta go. Love you.”

  Conner approaches alongside Bu, who bounces from foot to foot like a child engaged at play, clearly ignoring the signs that he’s got to pee. “Gunthreon, Bu and I are going to my place,” Conner says. “I’ve got some business waiting for me, and my buddy here has agreed to take a look at the sump pump that’s been giving me problems.” Bu fidgets with his fanny pack as he looks to Gunthreon for an “Okay.” He doesn’t get an immediate answer.

  Instead, Gunthreon says, “Everyone gather round, please.” We all look to him. “I have come up with some plans, and I need to know if you are all still behind me.” Everyone nods, except for me, but he seems to ignore it anyway. “Here it is: Tomorrow, Kailey, you are to live your life like normal—go to work, go out with your girlfriends, do whatever you like. Only thing is, Jenna and Cheeto will be staying with you. Conner, you go about your daily business also, and when Bu is finished with your sump pump, Fidello will take him back to my place. Lupa and I will be doing some traveling. We will be unreachable.” Lupa’s quizzical face makes me believe she wasn’t really aware of Gunthreon’s new plan. “Oh, and Ladimer, just get used to your new adult life in Abscondia. The only thing I ask is that you stay here and do not travel to Renhala.”

  It’s Ladimer’s turn to look confused. “Excuse me, Gunthreon, but I think you’re outstepping your boundaries on that one.”

  Gunthreon suddenly gets testy, for his energy heats up around him. “All I ask is that you keep your distance from any hotspots. That’s all.” He inhales and cools down.

  Ladimer shrugs. “I guess I can try.”

  Gunthreon smiles. “I shall see you all soon.” He moves, then pauses. “At the wedding, as a matter of fact.” He bows, grabs Lupa by the hand and disappears.

  “Oh my god!” I shout. “The wedding! And what the hell?” I stand with my hand on my forehead, dazed.

  Ladimer’s energy is confused, as well, for it begins swirling around him, in an anxious and nervous sort of way. “Gunthreon’s a smart man, and I put my faith in him, despite these latest antics.” He seems to be convincing himself more than me.

  “Why would he just leave now? He cries how important things are and that we need to take action, yet he abandons us,” I say.

  Ladimer shrugs. “Let’s just go along with the plan for now. Just one thing: Kailey, keep your guard up. If that means against me, too, sobeit. I need you safe.”

  I nod at him as Jenna comes near, tugging on my pants. I look down at her as she displays the hugest grin I’ve ever seen on her face.

  “Yeah! Let’s go to your place, Kailey!” She turns, and Ladimer and I follow her lead as Fidello pulls up to Gunthreon’s place.

  Ladimer, apparently sensing my uncertainty, says, “Namakon.” I recognize his hint that I mustn’t say anything in front of someone with a direct link to Gunthreon.

  As we all climb into the limo—Bu and Ladimer directly across from me and Conner—Conner says, “Am I still your date for Saturday?”

  “Of course,” I reply, as Ladimer meets my eyes.

  “Good,” he says, grabbing my hand softly, in his warm and comfortable grasp.

  *********

  My day goes by more smoothly than I could have imagined. Except for the occasional disappearance of minor appliances and a few blood spottings from Cheeto, everything is golden.

  Friday morning arrives and the thought of leaving Jenna alone in my apartment conjures thoughts of fire engines and police. “Jenna, what do you think about going to work with me?” I can hear her heart pounding as she thinks it over in her tiny little nappy head. I have to admit her presence will also help me after my time away. I feel so different from the Kailey I was, less than two weeks ago.

  She quickly climbs into the larger white, leather replica Prada bag I carry to work. “You know this is not real animal hide,” says Jenna. I thought only Amber would know. I just tell Jenna to mind her own business.

  We make sure both animals are fed and have emptied their bladders outside in back, Cheeto more discreetly. She’s so pregnant now that she can’t even get up the stairs, so I end up carrying her back to my apartment. They both get one treat and a stern talking-to about getting along and having no parties while I’m at work. Jenna just stares at me like I’m crazy.

  On our way to the bus stop, we pass the neighborhood gangbangers on the corner. Joe is slurping down a convenient store slushie—his mouth stained red—and the others are engaged in a game of dice. I speed up, hoping they miss me, but the comments begin flowing freely.

  “Hey, hot momma! Why in such a hurry?”

  “Did my cuz, Jose, sell you that replica?”

  “No pepper spray today?”
>
  Instead of walking faster, I turn as I walk, yelling, “Go to school and get an education, hoodlums!”

  Jenna snickers inside my bag.

  “Shut up,” I squawk.

  Just as I’m out of earshot, I hear Joe say, “Dude, definitely insane. Look. Talking to her bag.” They all laugh.

  Later, when Jenna sees the bus approaching, she thinks it some square sort of dragon, but after my continual reassurance that it’s not going to digest us once we board, she agrees to ride. After sitting down, I adjust my purse so that she can peek out the window without anyone seeing her. Several quiet shrieks later, we hit our stop and I exit the bus, stepping onto the Mag Mile—Michigan Avenue—known for shopping galore.

  “How you doing, Jenna?” I whisper into my purse, getting a thumbs-up from a homeless woman rummaging through the nearest garbage bin. I just wave back.

  After walking for a block, while waiting for a particularly long light to change, Jenna starts frantically moving around in my purse, snarling. My hands start shaking the bag, hoping that she’ll settle down. “Kailey, Kailey! She sees me!” says Jenna. “Hurry! Go! Go.”

  “I can’t! Who the hell are you talking about? There’s nobody around us,” I say. “Are we being followed?” Fear overwhelms me, and I make sure my pepper spray is in the front pocket of my purse.

  “That creature! It keeps staring at me, even when I flash my teeth. It has no aura.” She then whispers, “Must be a deathman in disguise.”

  A look at a nearby storefront’s window turns on the light bulb above my head. “You dumbass! That’s a mannequin,” I say. “You must not have any of those in Renhala. She’s made of plastic. Totally inanimate.”

  “Oh. We do not have any, at least where I’ve been. That’s so stupid. Are we almost at your place of occupation? This is tiring me.”

  As I cross the street, I make sure to put up my dukes toward each mannequin as we pass.

  “I get it,” grunts Jenna. “Knock it off before I shred your wallet.”

  “Behave yourself, because we’re close,” I say. “When we’re there, you have to stay hidden. If something stupid happens, I could lose my job. You’d see me out here digging through garbage cans.”

  My arrival at work is much quieter than normal. I enter our lobby and smile widely at our frowning receptionist as she says, “Deciding to grace us with your presence?” I ignore her.

  My boss gets a simple wave from me as I run to my office, but of course, that doesn’t stop him. Before I get to close my door, he sticks his foot in. “Nice to see you,” Evan says. “Hope all is well?” He squints at me, as if trying to peer inside my head through my eyes.

  “Oh, I’m good, thanks,” I respond. “I sure have a lot of work to do. Better get to it.” I try and shut the door, but he pries it open again.

  “So who’s the gentleman that called in for you?” he asks, raising one eyebrow. “Sounds a little old for you, don’t you think?” It’s meant as a joke, so I just smile at him.

  “My uncle,” I reply—being the first thing that popped into my head.

  “Uh huh. Hey, I wanted to tell you that I had a dream about you last night.”

  He has captured my interest. “Yeah?”

  “All I can remember is that some guy named Vladimir stabbed you right here” —he points to the location on himself— “on your shoulder blade. Strange, eh? I’ve been known for having a few premonitions. Just wanted to let you know, just in case.” I frown and he notices my worry, his energy transforming into regret. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have told you.” He pauses. “I’ve also been known for putting my foot in my mouth, perhaps more often.”

  “Don’t worry. I appreciate your warning. I’m okay. Really. Maybe you should lay off the early morning bourbon.” He laughs as he leaves, because he hasn’t had a drink in ten years, or at least that’s what he tells me.

  Once he’s gone, my calculator seems to strike Jenna’s fancy, so I put it and her on the floor under the desk, by my feet. Some music to work to sounds like a good idea, so I switch on my inherited AM/FM radio—which I’ve been told has been here since Helping Hands opened its doors. I find something with a fun beat and log into my computer, my fingers tapping to the music. Plenty of e-mails sit in my inbox, waiting for my answer.

  Time flies, and before long, it’s close to lunch time. A familiar smell floats to my nose and I wonder who made the popcorn.

  “Jenna, you hungry?” I ask. I look toward where my small friend should be and realize she’s not there. At that moment, a shriek from a nearby office sends me out of my chair and racing down the hall. Lisa, of the editorial department, weighing in at around three hundred, kneels wobbily on her chair, looking down toward the pile of papers on her floor. Her popcorn is spilled everywhere.

  “Kailey! There is a mouse in my office. A big one! I hate mice. Go get Sienna!” she shouts. Sienna is our office manager, who deals with all matters other employees would rather think they are above doing, like picking whether the office kitchen should be supplied with teaspoons or soup spoons.

  I hold out my arm to her. “I’m fine with rodents, so let me look,” I respond. “Why don’t you just jump down and wait outside? It’s okay. But run fast!” Her speed is amazing. I close her door.

  “Jenna! Out now!” I yap. Jenna’s crazy hair slowly rises from behind a pile of manuscripts. She has popcorn shoved in her mouth and stuck in her hair. Slowly, she comes out into the open, carrying two more pieces in her arms.

  “I was hungry, and this stuff smelled delicious! You were starving me, and your feet stink. No harm anyway, she thought I was a fluffmouse.”

  “They do not stink!”

  “Yes they do, just like cricket dung.”

  I look at my feet, knowing they may smell, slightly. “What the hell does cricket dung smell like?”

  “Your feet.”

  I make Jenna crawl into a nearby UPS box. As I walk out of the office, Amber stands near Lisa.

  Lisa shrieks, knowing I have the creature in the box. Jenna wiggles around for fun so I shake the box, once, really hard. “Everything’s fine now,” I say. “Let me go get rid of this varmint.” Amber’s insinuating smile bothers me, but I smile back.

  After an encounter with a mouse while working at Burrito Burgers, she’s well aware of my unnatural and over-the-top fear of small mice. “Can I come see you after I dump this?” I ask.

  “You know where to find me,” she says, heading back toward her office.

  I take the back exit, and once outside, in case anyone’s watching, I bend over to let the “mouse” free in the bushes. I carry the box back in with Jenna still inside and dump her once again in my purse. “Stay,” I say. Rummaging inside my desk drawer, I find two caramel almond granola bars. When I violently toss one into my bag, I hear an “Ouch!” The wrapper starts rustling, and then there’s silence. “A few more hours of work and then we can head home.”

  “You gotta stop talking to yourself. You may be scared at what answers back,” says my boss, suddenly in my doorway. He throws a stack of papers on my desk. “Next client. See ya.”

  I browse the file, then search the internet for over an hour, trying to find out any information on a Ms. Carmela Johnson, an old, retired English teacher from Louisiana chosen by us for a special award. The search turns up nothing useful. Fortunately, there are just two requests: a fancy lunch and a well thought-out gift of some sort. Simple enough. A call to my contact, Demetri, at the new three-star restaurant, True, guarantees me a table for two when needed, and a guarantee from myself to call him when I’m bored one evening locks the deal completely. Of course, I’ll never be that bored.

  I laugh when Jenna tells me how disgusting I am. “What would your boys think?” she says with righteousness and sarcasm.

  “My boys? I don’t think so.” I smile to myself.

  When Jenna points to the clock, it knocks me out of my sinister, and very personal, thoughts. I get up to leave. As I head towa
rd Amber’s office, I find my boss still sitting in his chair, tapping away at his computer. “Staying late?” I ask.

  He nods to me as his fingers fly over the keyboard, his face glued to the screen. “See ya,” he says.

  As we approach Amber’s office, Jenna says, “You owe me a favor for making me hang out at your boring work all day. As always, I was the only excitement in anybody’s day.”

  “Oh, I do?” I say. But it was boring...and she was indeed the excitement of the day.

  I find Amber sitting in her chair, admiring the rooftop pool across from our building. “Should we crash that sometime?” I ask.

  Startled, Amber jumps in her seat, grabbing at her stomach. I look to her hand, and she quickly removes it. “Damn you Kailey!” she yelps. “You forget how to knock? You don’t return my calls, but you can barge in like you own the place.” Her hands move from folder to folder on her desk, and across the headlining page of today’s Chicago Tribune. It’s an article about a mysterious pack of mutant dogs on the loose. As I look at the paper, I say, “That’s some pretty scary stuff, ain’t it?”

  “It is,” she says. “Wonder what the government’s doing about it. It’s gotta be a hot roundtable topic, you think? Maybe summit-worthy?”

  “Wow. Them’s some big words for you. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard you say the g-word.”

  She squints her eyes at me, angrily. “Russell and I do more than just fuck, Kailey.” My cheeks redden. “We have decent conversations. He actually respects my opinions, and thinks I have great ideas. Enough with the superiority complex.”

  “What? No. I didn’t mean anything disrespectful. I’m just razzing you.” I say, sitting in one of her chairs, changing the topic of discussion. “What can I do for you before the wedding? You know we never even had a bachelorette party! I’ve been so busy with stupid crap that I haven’t even checked in with you. I sincerely apologize. Nice best friend I am.” I give her my ashamed face. “Want to go out tonight maybe, just for a little bite to eat and a stripper or two?” I say, enthusiastically, with a smile plastered on my face.