“In the lot at O’Donnell’s,” I said.
“I’ll take care of it, Reverend,” Cecil smiled. “I mean, I can’t cover the costs of the tires.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “But it would be amazing if your shop could help.”
Cecil nodded. “Can’t be a bad thing for me. Bringing them new business on day one? Sounds like a win-win to me.”
“Thank you, Cecil,” I said. “Truly. It helps a lot.”
“I’ll have a tow truck sent out this afternoon,” Cecil said with a nod as he got off the bus.
I sat there staring out the window as the Metro took me to my stop. It’s funny how when even the weight of the world is pressing down on your shoulders, a kind gesture can brighten your day. Sure, it wasn’t like Cecil was buying me new tires, but I needed to get my car fixed. He had a solution, and he’d offered to help, even if it was just in a small way. To me, it was bigger than that. It was about more than about tires.
Cecil didn’t have a car of his own, and he was offering to help me get mine fixed?
I didn’t have a lot of spare money in the bank, and with fifty-dollar training sessions accumulating on my credit card, I wasn’t enthused about buying new tires. I had procrastinated before dealing with it. Too much on my plate. It was a question of priorities. I had supernatural ways of traveling, after all. Being out of shape, though, could have more imminent life-threatening consequences for me than for most people. Still, I was getting tired of riding the Metro. I couldn’t just fly or port anywhere. I needed my car. I would just have to figure out the cost, and I was grateful that Cecil would take care of arranging it.
Chapter Eight
I stood in front of the bookshelf in my apartment. I’d started listing books for sale once before. Amazon had an easy app that made it a breeze. All I had to do was scan the bar code and set a price, and they’d be listed in the used bookstore.
“Selling books?” Agnus asked as he hopped off the couch.
I nodded. “Need a little cash to get my tires fixed. Well, replaced.”
“People buy this drivel?” Agnus asked. He wasn’t one to mince words.
I looked at my phone. “This commentary set. The lowest price for any of them is fifty bucks. I think the series is out of print.”
“Just don’t sell your copy of Everyone Poops. It’s my favorite.”
I tilted my head. “You’re now telling me that you read?”
Agnus head-butted my shin. “Not really, but I like the pictures.”
“In Everyone Poops?” I asked. “All the pictures are of different animals pooping.”
“Why do you even have that book anyway?” Agnus asked.
I chuckled. “Someone got it for me as a gag. It was an ordination gift.”
Agnus wrapped his tail around his feet. “Humans are weird.”
“You’re the one who says you like the book, Agnus,” I said, kneeling and retrieving the book from the bottom shelf.
“It’s profound if you think about it,” Agnus said. “Its whole message.”
I shook my head. “There isn’t much of a plot to it, Agnus.”
“You’re missing the point,” Agnus said. “All those different animals, but when it comes down to it, we have things in common.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “That everyone eats…”
“And everyone poops!” Agnus agreed enthusiastically. “Even you humans who think you’re so much better than the rest of us. At the end of the day—well, maybe not at the end of the day, but whenever nature calls—you do the same nasty the rest of us do.”
I chuckled. “I suppose that’s true.”
“We could focus on our differences. Our superior intelligence, our refined senses, our innate beauty. But just because you’re human doesn’t mean you have to be insecure about all that.”
I snorted. “You think cats have superior intelligence? I don’t see any books on this shelf written by cats.”
“You overcomplicate your lives,” Agnus said. “It doesn’t have to be that way, but humans are too innately simple to see it. The very fact that you don’t realize our feline superiority proves my point. You’re too obtuse to see the truth.”
The television was on in the background. Agnus had the remote on the couch next to where he’d been sitting. “You were watching human television shows. What is it?”
“The History Channel,” Agnus said. “Interesting that your histories only cover the things humans do. But look at this show. It’s about ancient Egypt. It’s inspiring.”
“Mummies and pyramids inspire you?” I asked.
Agnus sauntered back over to the couch and jumped up. “They worshipped cats,” he said. “It’s incredible how advanced humans used to be.”
I just shook my head. “You realize the ancient Egyptians used to poop too, right?”
“See!” Agnus exclaimed. “That’s my point! Your histories gloss over all the important stuff!”
I laughed as I grabbed another book from my shelf and scanned it into my app. “Very true,” I said. “I wonder what they did before they had sewer systems?”
“Disgusting humans,” Agnus said, shaking his head. “They used buckets, then dumped it on the street. Even ancient cats knew better than that. They buried their turds in the sand.”
“Sounds like cats haven’t changed much through the centuries.”
“Of course not!” Agnus said. “Because we instinctively know better than humans. People! Such vile creatures. The last show was about the black plague. You realize if they’d just had basic common sense sanitation in the dark ages, they probably could have avoided all that?”
“I think it was more complicated than that, Agnus.”
“Not really,” he said. “But that’s my point. You humans make everything so damned complex. It’s not a sign of intelligence. It’s the opposite.”
I decided to drop it. Agnus had the Cadillac of litter boxes. It used human technology to clean itself, sensing when the cat left the box and raking out the clumps. All because of human ingenuity. The one time I had threatened to sell his box and get a normal one, he’d raised all kinds of hell about it.
Still, since Agnus started communicating with me, I’d learned my lesson. There was no point in arguing with him or challenging his assumptions, especially when it came to the primacy of his species.
I’d have to list more books later. It was a good start. Not enough to pay for my new tires, but hopefully, a few bucks would come my way before my next credit card bill was due. It would offset the cost a bit.
I needed to take a shower before I went to work.
I double-checked my shampoo bottle. After a trickster fairy had dumped a bottle of Nair into my shampoo…well, I wasn’t going to risk it. Not that I had a lot of hair left to lose. It was just starting to grow back in, and I didn’t look great with a shaved head. I wasn't inclined to start the hair-growth process over. The shampoo was fine.
The shower was calming. I could have stood under the warm water for hours. Of course, it wouldn’t last that long, but there was nothing as refreshing as a good shower after a killer workout.
I’d barely dried off and slipped into clean boxers when the front door opened.
That was fast.
“Layla?” I asked.
“It’s me,” she shouted across the apartment.
I stepped out of the bathroom and headed to the bedroom to get the rest of my clothes.
Before, I hadn’t brought undies with me into the bathroom when I showered. But since Layla moved in and Agnus could speak, it felt rude to walk around the place naked.
Bachelorhood was over.
Layla walked into the bedroom right behind me.
“That was quick,” I said. “You get everything you needed?”
Layla nodded as she threw a yellow plastic bag on the table. “Check it out.”
I reached into the bag. “A twelve-piece set of fake mustaches?”
Layla nodded, smiling. “I h
ad to get the full set, so I figured you’d have your choice.”
“You think just adding a mustache will be enough of a disguise?” I asked.
“Trust me,” Layla said. “When someone has a glorious mustache, no one sees anything else.”
I slipped on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt. “You can pick. I don’t care.”
“Come on! You need to pick one that you’re comfortable wearing.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think any of these fits me.”
“That’s the point,” Layla said. “We don’t want you to look like you!”
I grabbed the kit. There weren’t any great choices. “I don’t know, Layla.”
“How about the Fu Manchu?” Layla asked.
I chuckled. “I don’t want to look like Hulk Hogan.”
“You won’t. Trust me.”
“Still, that’s not the one.”
“Here,” Layla said. “This one is more subtle. It’s called the Toothbrush.”
I shook my head. “I’m not wearing a Hitler ‘stache, Layla.”
“Okay,” Layla said. “You could just call it a Charlie Chaplin.”
I shook my head. “No one sees that mustache and thinks of Charlie Chaplin. That Hitler asshole ruined the toothbrush mustache forever.”
“Fair point.”
“You just choose,” I said. “It doesn’t matter.”
“All right,” Layla said. “You’re wearing the Handlebar.”
I cocked my head. “Really? I’ll look like a douche.”
“You’ll look like a douche with any mustache, Caspar. That’s the point.”
“Fine,” I said. “But I’m not putting it on now.”
“Of course not,” Layla said. “Go to work. We’ll get you fixed up after your shift.”
Chapter Nine
I tucked my keys into my front pocket and my wallet into my back pocket before heading out the door and downstairs to the pub.
I just had to get through today’s shift.
So much on my mind. Work would be a nice distraction.
I know working at a bar isn’t ideal for a recovering alcoholic, but with Donna there—she ran the place and was also a member of my AA group—I had plenty of confidence. For the most part, it didn’t faze me. Mixing drinks. Pouring beers. It was just a job.
And I didn’t have any desire to drink. Not anymore.
Not as long as I maintained a fit spiritual condition. Not that I was together in that regard; I was questioning a lot about my beliefs. The whole prophecy thing had turned my worldview upside-down and inside-out, but I had faith. Even if I was uncertain what I believed, I still trusted that the God who’d taken care of me throughout my life, often despite myself, would see me through.
It was a simple prayer. I said it every morning. I didn’t always kneel at my bedside or sit in front of my Bible, but I said these few words: “Lord, give me the strength not to drink today.”
In more than five years, he hadn’t let me down yet.
“Hey, Caspar,” Donna said as I walked through the door. “A tow-truck driver is looking for you.”
“Already?” I asked. I couldn’t believe Cecil had arranged it so quickly. Just a couple of hours ago, he was getting off the bus to start his first day.
“I think he needs the keys,” Donna continued.
I nodded and headed back out the door. The car was parked around the corner, so I hadn’t even noticed he was there.
I gave the driver my Mitsubishi key and went back inside.
“All taken care of,” I said.
“About time,” Donna said.
I nodded. “Yeah, someone offered to help. Sort of a relief.”
The shift went as well as could be expected. I didn’t spill any drinks on any patrons, which for me was a win. For the midday shift, which was usually rather slow, it was fairly busy.
I was glad about that. It gave me a few hours without having to think about the trials, the prophecy, the church, or the mustache.
It was oddly therapeutic. I suppose we all need an escape.
Of course, the first thing I thought about as I climbed the stairs to my apartment was that Layla was probably preparing to glue a mustache to my upper lip.
Instead, I found the lights dimmed.
Candles lit all around.
And Layla bent over backward in a bridge on the floor.
“Yoga?” I asked.
“Shh. You’re messing with my chi.”
I snorted. “Elves have chi?”
“I’ve adapted the principles of yoga to our practice of ioga,” Layla said. Since the elves had brought with them something comparable to yoga from the old world, which I was beginning to suspect they’d borrowed from the drow, who, based on their dress when I’d met them the night before, had probably been living in India for centuries.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll go make popcorn so I can watch.”
Layla lowered her body to the ground. “I’m not doing this for your enjoyment, Caspar.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the show.”
Layla chuckled. “Why don’t you join me?”
“I only do Tony Horton’s yoga. When no one is looking.”
“I’ve seen you do it,” Agnus piped up. “You should see it. If we’re talking about watching people do yoga, you in the mood for a little comedy, Layla?”
“Shut up, Agnus,” I piped back. “It’s not that funny.”
“No,” Layla said. “I think Agnus had a great idea. How about I go make some popcorn?”
I kicked off my shoes and laid down on my back.
“Shavasana pose doesn’t count,” Layla told me.
“Come on,” I said. “Just lying still challenges the mind.”
“All right,” Layla said. “Then let's see if you can do it. We have about four hours before we have to leave. See if you can hold it the whole time.”
“A four-hour nap?” I asked. “No problem.”
“No,” Layla said. “It’s not a nap. In Shavasana, you’re supposed to feel the world all around you. It’s an awareness of the body and a heightened state of consciousness. It’s why it’s normally done at the end of a routine when you’ve had a chance to join your body to your mind through a variety of sequences.”
I shrugged. “I’d just as soon skip to the end.”
“All right. But while you’re doing it, I’m going to put on your mustache.”
“What?” I asked. “How can I focus my mind if you’re gluing that thing to my face?”
“Total control over your body and mind,” Layla said. “You told me this Shavasana stuff was easy.”
“Fine,” I said. “We’ll do the routine, but we’re doing Tony’s video, not whatever brutal stuff you do.”
“Better choice,” Layla said. “That video is only an hour and a half.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I usually fast forward through the balance poses.”
Layla cocked her head. “Why do you do that?”
I looked at her blankly. “Because I can’t do them. Duh. Rather skip past than crash into the floor repeatedly.”
“You’ll never learn them if you don’t practice, Caspar. It doesn’t matter if you stumble.”
I nodded. “All right. Well, let's get it over with.”
“Just wait,” Agnus said. “When he tries to do crane pose, it takes a while before he gets there. But trust me. It’s worth it!”
Layla giggled. “I’ll start the popcorn.”
“Hey,” I said, slipping off my jeans and kicking them into the corner. “You were serious about that? I was joking when I said it.”
“You were?” Layla asked. “That’s a shame because I was serious. Let's see if you can focus with us watching you. Since people all around the world are going to be watching you tonight, you need to be ready.”
I sighed as I walked back to the bedroom and put on a pair of knit shorts. I’d learned my lesson the first few times I did yoga. If I wasn’t wearing elastic m
aterial, chances were I split my pants right in the crotch. This pair, though, had survived several rounds. They had more flexibility than I did.
At first, it was mildly distracting. I could feel their eyes on me as I made my way through a vinyasa and into warrior one. And them crunching on the popcorn? Irritating as hell.
But I tried to clear my mind and focus. That was what I needed to do. I wasn’t sure what these trials were going to involve, but I needed to be able to tune out everything else. I had to focus no matter what happened.
Before I knew it, I was in the zone.
“That downward dog is pretty hot,” Layla told Agnus. “I’d peg that.”
“Not my type,” Agnus said. “Anything with the word ‘dog’ in it is pretty vile if you ask me.”
“You two!” I shouted. “Stop!”
“Focus, Caspar,” Layla said. “We’re just giving you shit. You were doing so well.”
“What the hell does it mean, you’d peg me?” I asked.
“Google it,” Layla said. “Looks like fun to me.”
I snorted. “I can imagine. And no thanks. I definitely won’t be Googling anything like that.”
After that, I decided I just wasn’t going to listen. I needed to be aware, but what I heard, what I saw—they were secondary to my basic sense of awareness.
I got back into the groove. I rocked the vinyasa sequences and got to the balance poses.
Tree pose.
No problem.
Royal Dancer.
I slew it.
Finally, Crane.
Balancing on your hands with your knees tucked onto your biceps. I’d been practicing. I know I said I fast-forwarded the balance postures, and if Agnus was watching, I did. But I did stop to give this one a shot because it seemed like one of those poses that once I got it, I’d accomplish something.
So far, I’d managed to get one foot off the ground. I used the big toe of my opposite foot to maintain my balance.
But this time, I was daring. I was going to give it a shot.
I slowly lifted my big toe off the ground.
Focus, Caspar.
I was doing it, but I couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t celebrate. I had to stay in the moment.
Three Dogma Night (The Elven Prophecy Book 3) Page 6