The Unspeakable Unknown

by Eliot Sappingfield

  “Yellow wallpaper,” he said.

  “See?” Jakki giggled. “Was that so hard? I’m sorry for the outburst. I get a bit sensitive at times. When you don’t have a lot of friends, the ones you do have end up putting up with a lot of drama, I’m afraid.”

  “Can he be . . . fixed?” I asked.

  “I totally wish he could. You lower life-forms have these fragile brains that can only see in one direction at a time. Spending too much time around me—it’s like staring at the sun. I’d like to be able to have friends without turning their brains into Silly Putty. These days I go through a new gal pal every few months.”

  “Why not leave people alone if you’re hurting them?” I asked.

  “You’re young; you don’t understand. I’m at a point in my life where I need to be building relationships. Is it a crime to make it easier for people to accept the gift of my friendship by not allowing them to refuse it?”

  I nodded. “It literally is.”

  “People will get used to it. You humans have no vision, terrible management, and zero capacity for long-term planning. You’d be surprised by how much better this planet would operate if your species wasn’t running everything.”

  I was starting to see where she was going. “And I bet you know just who should be in charge.”

  She gave me a jaunty wink. “That’s right—your betters. You humans need to learn obedience to higher minds, get comfortable with your place in the food chain, things like that. That’s why I need your help, because you don’t go all soft brained around us. Once we know how you do it, we can bring the rest of the humans under control without ruining or killing them. You can help us civilize the human race. Isn’t that exciting?”

  “I don’t think I want to help with that plan. It sounds horrible,” I said. “People like having control of their brains.”

  Jakki turned all the way around so she was kneeling on her seat and facing me. “Let me ask you a question. Let’s say you and a bunch of your little friends showed up on this planet, and there were no people anywhere yet, just animals. Would you put the dogs in charge?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Who, then? Horses and cows? Insects? Three-toed sloths? No. You’d take a look at things and decide your people should be in charge.”

  “Yeah, but we wouldn’t enslave and abuse the animals,” I said.

  “Oh, of course not. You humans would never domesticate a dog or a horse and make them do your bidding. That sure would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”

  That one took me a second. “We kind of have a deal with them. It’s a trade. We feed them, give them shelter, and pet them, and they grab the paper for us. If they don’t like it, they can walk away or go on strike. You’re talking about removing our ability to refuse.”

  “Of course, but that’s your main flaw,” Jakki said, turning around to face the road again. “Our species got rid of our free will a long time ago. We don’t miss it, and neither will you.”

  “Not all of you got rid of it,” I said.

  Jakki’s voice lost any semblance of friendliness. “Let’s not bring up my prodigal sister again. Why don’t you take a nap for a little while? We can talk later.”

  “I’m not sleepy,” I said.

  She pressed a button on the dashboard, and a plastic barrier shot up between the front seat and the rest of the SUV. There was a quiet beep, and an almost invisible green mist drifted from a heater vent on the ceiling. I don’t know what it was, but it sure changed my mind about getting some sleep.

  14

  PINEAPPLES AND TOOTHPASTE

  Someone was talking. “Here we are! Wake up, sleepyheads!”

  My head felt like someone had stuffed it with ice and thumbtacks, and I was having trouble getting in touch with my arms and legs.

  I could hear Jakki bustling around, mumbling to herself, and occasionally barking platitudes at us. “The early bird has worms! Let’s move it, people. We’ve got a lot to do!”

  Even thinking about moving made me tired. I figured she could handle it if I slept a little longer.

  “Gus,” she said, “could you be a dear and hand me my cattle prod? It’s in the glove box.”

  “YES!” said Gus.

  “I’m up! I’m up!” I said, not wanting an electric shock that early in the morning.

  Truth be told, I don’t like electric shocks regardless of the time of day.

  It was morning, I realized. The sun was low on the horizon, and the air had that bracing-cold quality that makes you want to stay indoors, eat soup, and watch daytime TV.

  Gus seemed disappointed but did not go for the cattle prod. Through the open door of the SUV, I was finally able to get a clear look at him. His slate-gray suit, complete with white shirt and dark tie, made him look a bit like a Secret Service agent, except that Secret Service agents appear alert, and I wasn’t sure Gus would notice a tennis racquet to the face unless he had been ordered to. I would have put his age at about fifty, but his face could have belonged to a younger man, if not for the full head of dark gray hair. In total he was unremarkable, which counterbalanced Jakki’s abrasive strangeness nicely. I could see why she made him her living fashion accessory.

  Behind me, Hypatia stirred and woke. “Nikola! That’s not Mr. Marconi!”

  “You’re, like, two chapters behind,” I said. “We’ve been kidnapped by an Old One, and we’ve arrived at our destination. The big guy is her husband, and for some reason you have about half a taco in your hair.”

  “Oh. Oh no. Ew,” she said, discovering I was telling the truth about everything one at a time.

  Jakki pointed at Warner. “Him too. Bring him.”

  I shook, then gently slapped Warner. He opened his eyes and looked around a bit. For a moment it looked like he was back with us, but I could see the horrific memory of what had happened creep into his expression, and he was out cold once again. “Warner!” I said. “Get up!”

  Warner mumbled something but didn’t look at me. He appeared to be awake, so I helped him to his feet and half pushed, half guided him along. He was able to stand upright and walk but lacked the motivation to go anywhere specific. I could work with that.

  Once I had him up and standing, I was able to get a look at our surroundings. We were in the absolute middle of nowhere. No, that’s not true. Were we to get into the car and drive at high speeds directly toward civilization, we could have gotten to the middle of nowhere in a couple of hours if we hurried. I could see nothing in any direction, and the world around us was desolate and utterly, shockingly, terribly flat.

  A gust of icy wind blasted us from nowhere and nearly knocked Hypatia, Warner, and me onto the ground. I felt my skin freezing in the cold and wondered how long I could endure the exposure before I had a serious case of frostbite. Twenty minutes? Why hadn’t any of us brought coats to the mall?

  The experience seemed to rouse Warner from his stupor. He shivered and glanced around. “Is this hell?” he asked nobody in particular.

  “No. It’s Kansas,” Jakki said.

  Jakki’s house was decidedly unmonstrous in its appearance. There was a low picket fence, a raggedly trimmed yard, and a lone tree that promised to grow flowers once spring arrived. The house itself was a humble two-story on a square base, with peeling yellow paint and white trim. White lace curtains stirred in the windows. A small porch supported a swinging bench and a few empty bird feeders. A pink mat at the door read, WELCOME, VICTIMS.

  “Right this way!” Jakki said, and led us into her home. The living room was nothing special. There was an old tube TV that looked like it hadn’t been turned on in decades and a rose-colored sofa coated in that plastic stuff people use when they want guests to feel guilty about sitting on their furniture.

  Arranged in a fan pattern on the coffee table was an assortment of colorful books with titles like Country Sunsets, Barns and Bridges of N
ew England, and The Plight of Darfur: Photographing Human Misery.

  Jakki smiled and pushed me in the general direction of her kitchen.

  The linoleum floor there bore a repeating pattern of wildflowers and ornamental scrollwork. Brightly colored cabinets with metal flower handles lined the walls. The windowsill above the sink supported bottles of olive oil filled with herbs and botanicals, a decorative blue vase, and a beautiful orange bottle with a length of straw tied decoratively around its neck that seemed to glow in the morning light. This last bottle was labeled CHLOROFORM in elegant calligraphy.

  Above a sturdy wooden table hung a large needlepoint picture of a goose whose neck bent at such an angle that it could have been broken. Above and below the goose, an embroidered inscription read: THE CITIES OF EARTH SHALL BURN. THE SCREAMS OF HER PEOPLE SHALL RISE TO THE HEAVENS AND DIE UNHEARD. Mauve really was a nice choice for the bow.

  Hypatia and I guided Warner to a kitchen chair and sat on either side of him. He was unconscious again the moment he was off his feet.

  Jakki strode/slithered over to a refrigerator and busied herself rummaging through its contents.

  “Is being around her doing permanent damage to Warner?” I whispered to Hypatia.

  “Only with extended exposure, or if she starts changing his mind about things,” she said. “Or if she . . . feeds off him. You know.”

  I did know. I’d watched Tabbabitha feed off both Warner and Hypatia, and it was not an experience I was eager to relive.

  “You know,” I said. “If we make it out of this, when Warner tells the story, this will be the part where he tries to keep us terrified girls calm.”

  Hypatia chuckled like people do when you tell a joke in a situation where jokes really aren’t acceptable.

  “Aha!” Jakki said. She returned with an ornate silver serving tray and a yellowing sack of those white-powdered mini-doughnuts you find in bags at gas stations. She ripped the bag in two and dumped the doughnuts unceremoniously onto the tray, where they came to rest amid a stale cloud of powdered sugar. She then cleared a small space in the center of the tray, which she filled with a generous dollop of tartar-control toothpaste.

  “Breakfast is served!” she said proudly. “Now . . . I need to make a phone call and powder my proboscis. You kids sit here, have a bite, and I’ll be right back. Gus, honey, could you please murder them if they try to leave?”

  “YES!” said Gus. He had that one word down, at least.

  While Hypatia tried the doughnuts, I studied Gus and tried to figure out how he planned to kill us if the need arose.

  “Mm!” Hypatia said. “These are actually pretty good.”

  Let me tell you, that was a huge relief because I hadn’t eaten anything since we had Taco Bomb the day before, and I was pretty much starving. I grabbed two doughnuts and popped them in my mouth. They were dry, crumbly, and about 80 percent spoiled. I nearly vomited, but somehow managed to choke it down.

  “I love when they get a little moldy. Really makes the flavor of the preservatives pop,” Hypatia said.

  It was really my own fault for taking a parahuman’s word on whether something tasted good.

  “How come you aren’t, you know, zonked like Warner?” I asked.

  “We parahumans can handle them a bit better than humans, particularly if we’ve had previous experience with them. What happened while we were asleep?”

  I started to fill her in but figured Warner should know also, so while Hypatia chewed on a particularly crunchy doughnut, I tried to rouse him. Initially, I talked to him softly, then shook his shoulders, and even slapped him lightly on the cheek. Nothing seemed to work. Finally, I stuck my finger in my mouth, got it good and wet, and shoved it into his ear with a twist.

  “Gah!” he said. “What did you do that for?”

  “You’ve been acting like a zombie,” I said. “You need to wake up and work with us. We’re kind of in a jam here.”

  “Preserves,” corrected Gus as he pointed at the toothpaste on the doughnut platter.

  “Uh, thanks,” I said.

  Warner looked around, obviously confused to find himself there. “Are we at your grandma’s house? What smells like rotting meat? Who is that guy?”

  “We’re captives of an Old One, and that’s Gus,” I said as Gus waved cheerfully. “He’s there to murder us if we try to leave.”

  “How is he going to do that?” Warner asked.

  “Beats me,” I said. “Gus, how did you plan on killing us if we ran away?”

  Gus gave me a confident double-thumbs-up gesture. “Pineapples,” he said.

  “Are they poisoned?” Hypatia asked.

  “Uh . . . spicy?” Gus said, unsure of himself.

  Warner shrugged. “So tell me everything else. Last thing I remember was that security guard grabbing me.”

  “Fair warning: It’s all bad news. Are you ready?” I asked.

  “No,” Warner said. “Tell me anyway.”

  To their credit, Warner and Hypatia listened carefully without freaking or passing out again. Occasionally, Warner made a face that I knew meant he was making mental notes about something.

  When I was describing how the windshield somehow scrambled any road signs, Hypatia interrupted my story with an idea. “You tried your tablet in the car. What about now?” She produced her own tablet and powered it on.

  The three of us and Gus watched with interest as it searched for a signal before an alert appeared in the center of the screen: NETWORK TRAFFIC BLOCKED BECAUSE I’M NOT AN IDIOT. XOXO, JAKKI.

  “Worth a shot,” I said, before explaining the rest of what happened while they were out.

  * * *

  “ . . . because it’s in the center of the picture, and the goose is a little deformed?” Warner asked a few minutes later.

  “Yeah, see?” I pointed. “The neck bends at a ninety-degree angle right before the head. I think she was worried it wouldn’t fit in the frame with the longer motto. Either that or the broken-neck thing was intentional.”

  “The mauve does look nice,” Warner said, nodding.

  “Rattles . . . like angry candy,” said Gus.

  I nodded at him. “I think so, too.”

  Warner and I each found a doughnut that was mostly still edible and were able to choke them down by dipping them in the toothpaste and saying silent prayers to the gods of food poisoning.

  After “breakfast,” Warner leaned into the center of the table and signaled that we should do the same. “Gus doesn’t look too swift, and I don’t think he has a gun. I say we make a run for it. Who knows how long that thing will be gone?”

  Unfortunately, Gus’s ears worked very well. He shook his head solemnly and opened his jacket to reveal four large and dangerous-looking hand grenades fastened to the inside of his suit coat.

  “Pineapples,” he said.

  “Gus,” I said, “if there’s anyone in this house I’d entrust with high explosives, it’s you.”

  He smiled widely.

  Warner said, “I wonder if he even knows how to use them.”

  “YES!” Gus nodded emphatically and prepared to demonstrate proper grenade operation.

  “NO! NONONONONONONONONONONO!” all three of us shouted at once.

  I held my hands up. “Gus, we know you’re the expert. There’s no reason to waste a grenade showing us. Besides, it would mess up the kitchen.”

  “And I’d like to keep all my skin and body parts right where they are,” said Warner.

  “Yes, Gus,” I said, “this is just not the time to try out those grenades. Why dontcha put that little guy back in your jacket there, okay?”

  “Yes,” Gus said, clearly disappointed.

  * * *

  Jakki returned a short while later. “Oh, lovely! I see Warner has decided to join us. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she said.


  Warner mumbled something incoherent that might have been “Glow to health.” I could be a bit off on that.

  She glared at him. “You’re very happy to make my acquaintance,” she said with utter confidence.

  “I AM happy to make your acquaintance!” said Warner, his eyes a bit unfocused. He jumped up, strode across the kitchen, and shook her hand warmly with both hands, before pulling her in for a long, affectionate hug.

  “I absolutely love your house, and those horrible doughnuts are quite good! Can we stay here forever?”

  “What a polite boy!” Jakki said, delighted.

  “Hey!” I said. “If you want us to come quietly, no poking around in his brain. Free will or nothing.”

  “You’re no fun.” Jakki glowered. “Maybe he really likes it here.”

  “No,” I said. “He doesn’t. He thinks your house is tacky and the food is terrible.”

  Jakki appeared deeply offended. “Well, maybe it’s the best I can do. Sorry if I can’t meet your high standards.”

  “Get used to it. What good is a bunch of fake compliments, anyway?”

  “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” she said. “Sit back down.”

  Warner sat.

  “There, he’s back to normal now.”

  Warner sat and smiled placidly. “Thank you. Of all the mind-bendingly nightmarish creatures I’ve ever met, you are the most beautiful. I sure wish you weren’t married.”

  “Jakki . . . ,” I said.

  She threw her hands up. “Oh, fine! But know that I will remove any sharp objects from your possession, tongues included.”

  Warner shook his head. “Did I just say something?”

  “I think you almost proposed,” Hypatia said.

  “Oh,” he said, and stuffed a doughnut into his mouth, wincing like it hurt.

  Jakki sat down at the table with us, which caused the rest of us to scoot together along the opposite side. “I’ve just spoken with one of my sisters, and they’ll be bringing us home shortly.”