by Maku Kasai
“Here, Cerberus!”
The hodag yipped happily and started bounding down the aisle toward John only to stop halfway. Sniffing at the air, he turned around and bounded away.
“No!” John made a dive but came up short as the lizard-like creature slipped through his arms. The dive caused John to tumble and slam against the side of a central aisle freezer. When he managed to shake away the dizziness from the impact, he found Connor perched on his chest.
“I’ve run into a spot of trouble and think it best we take off,” Connor said.
John rolled his eyes.
“Also”—the fairy looked around at yet another mess—“you don’t seem to have found Cerberus.”
“I lost him.” John shuffled up onto his feet.
Connor huffed and placed his hands on hips. “Well, that’s not productive, is it?”
“You’re not helping,” John said.
Connor sighed. “It’s not my fault you’re bad at asking for the kind of help you need.”
“Fine.” John shook his head again. “I saw Cerberus smell something before he ran off.”
“That’s likely to be meat, then. Fresher the better. Hodags love meat.”
“Good,” John replied with a groan and a heap of sarcasm. “That’s helpful. Did you know that the whole time?”
“Of course.” Connor stood on John’s shoulder again. “I know lots of things.”
“You knew we could have gone straight to the meat section and not wandered around the entire store?” John pushed the pram toward the back of the store.
“When you put it that way, it sounds like we’re wasting time,” Connor replied.
John leaned on the refrigerator case, the cold seeping into his fingers which ached from his tumble moments before.
“Easy.” Connor steadied himself on John’s arm.
“I’m fine. I’ll head for the meat section. You find me something to contain Cerberus, okay?”
“On it.” The air wobbled in John’s vision as Connor took off.
John turned toward the deli and got two steps before he heard a scream from the bakery behind him. He winced, and forgoing fairy wisdom for the likelihood that someone had seen Cerberus, he turned in the direction of the scream and started running.
A few seconds later he skidded to a stop to find Cerberus happily sitting amidst a large scattering of doughnuts, next to a wide-eyed lady in a hairnet. John watched as Cerberus licked a chocolate doughnut, flinging it into the air. With a snap of his jaws, he caught it, devouring the pastry in one bite. John looked at the lady.
“I can explain. It’s a dog,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.
Connor jumped up on her shoulder, waving an apron. “This will work.”
The lady stared at Connor with even wider eyes, and John braced himself for another scream. Instead, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed onto the floor.
“Connor!” John said, jumping forward to help the woman.
Connor flew into his path, holding his hands out to stop John. “She’ll think it was all a dream.”
John clenched his fists but thought better of arguing with a fairy just then. He grabbed Cerberus and the apron and bolted for the back of the store. The back door of the bakery opened onto a loading dock that was thankfully empty.
John paused to lay Cerberus down on the apron and began wrapping the hodag up like a burrito. Voices came from around the side of the docking bay, and then Mike and Mark shambled around the corner.
“Dude, I’m telling you. We have, like, super powers now!” Mike said.
“I do not want to talk to you right now, man. You got us thrown out of the store! Now where are we going to get good munchies?” Mark said.
John turned back to see the hodag use its tongue to clean off the last of the powdered sugar and chocolate from its jaws.
“Dude?” Mike asked.
John spun to his feet, clutching the swaddled hodag against his shoulder like a baby.
“Oh… Hi guys, uh, fancy meeting you here,” John stammered. He had worked with Mike and Mark at the plasma center before he was let go after so many staff members went missing while he was employed there.
“Man, you would not believe the day we just had,” Mark said.
Mike put a restraining hand on Mark, who flinched it away. Unperturbed, Mike stared at John with narrow eyes.
“Dude, since when do you have a baby?” Mike asked.
John nervously bounced up and down in the way he had seen some parents with small infants do. “I am babysitting.”
Mike nodded slowly.
“Uh, dude, is your baby, like, alright?” Mark asked.
John nodded and opened his mouth to speak when he realized Cerberus was making some uncomfortably loud gurgling noises.
“Uh…”
John pulled Cerberus back to see the hodag’s lizard-like face contorted in a pained grimace. “Oh no.”
Without thinking John spun the bundled Cerberus around just as the creature’s mouth opened in a violent spray of noxiously sweet-smelling, sticky, black foam. John held his grip as the bundled monster continued to vomit in a torrential cascade that splattered the ground in an arc several feet away from where John stood.
Mike and Mark leapt back, staring at the mess. After a few more seconds, the spray stopped and Cerberus started panting. Gingerly, John turned the creature over at arms-length. Cerberus, for his part, seemed well enough and yipped happily.
John eyed Cerberus, then eyed Mike and Mark, now separated from him by a moat of sizzling foam. Then, clutching Cerberus to his chest, he fled.
John didn’t stop running until he was in the house and down in the library. He half-collapsed against one of the stone bookcases and let Cerberus fall with a plop. Within seconds, the hodag untangled itself from the swaddle and turned around to yip happily at John.
John took several minutes to catch his breath, and then slumped his head against the cold stone bookcase. “I’m dead.”
John’s voice echoed in the empty library and Cerberus yipped. The yip also echoed. Without removing his head from the bookcase, he looked at his pet.
“I’m sorry, little guy.” John heaved a deep breath. “I’m not cut out for this. I can’t handle this.” John angled his body against the bookcase and slid down until he was more collapsed than sitting. “I thought I could, but I can’t. Nothing goes right. My apartment, Lilith, the center, I…” John’s jaw tightened and he shut his eyes.
“Lad.”
John forced his eyes open to see Connor standing beside Cerberus. As usual, the fairy made no sound on his approach.
“You know one of the craziest things about humans?” The tiny man crouched down. “You build one fire and suddenly you think you can control the world. Things break, seasons change, people die, and there’s not anything you can do. Look around.” Connor spread his arms, pointing at the objects in the library. “This stuff. It’s not perfect. More than one of those journals is missing a page, and look at the bookshelves. That one’s got a crack from something big hitting it, and given the drunkards the Hag has dragged in over the years, Cerberus isn’t the first to accidentally use it as a latrine. And it’s not just the shelves—look here at this suit of armor, those are genuine fecal stains around the backside. Stars and stones, even the dragon skull is missing a few teeth. Nothing’s perfect! But you lot seem to think things have to be.”
John shut his eyes and dragged himself to a sitting position.
“It’s no use, Connor. I’ve decided Cerberus has to go. I’ll take him out to the woods and let him go. He’ll be better off. I love this little nut but I don’t think I can take care of him.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Officer Murdock asked, then licked her thumb and flipped open her notebook. “You say this baby tried to spit up on you.”
“It’s not a baby! It’s a possessed monster,” Mike said.
“It really is! It spit up on us but all black and foamy.” Mark wiped away ima
ginary puke.
“Uh huh, and then your ‘friend’—John, was it?” the officer asked.
“Yeah, you know him, he works, well, worked, at the plasma center.” Mike waved his hand in what might have been the direction of the center.
“Right. John takes the kid and runs off with him...her…?” Mark scratched his head.
“It! That thing is totally an it,” Mike said.
“Right.” The officer closed her notebook and put it away.
“It had a green scaly face. Beady yellow eyes!” Mark rubbed his arm and shivered.
“And it’s probably going to bring about the apocalypse or something.” Mike crossed his arms over his chest.
“Have you boys been…drinking or taking anything?” Officer Murdock asked, putting away her pencil.
“Excuse me, Officer Murdock. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear as I walked past. Did you say someone named John went running off with a baby?” A woman strode up to them.
“It was a monster from beyond,” Mike said, motioning into the distance.
“It threw up on us!” Mark said.
“And you said its face was looking green and the vomit was dark?” Mrs. Young asked, her brows high and puckered.
“Black as night.” Mark nodded.
“Oh officer, that’s not good. We need to find him quickly. If he’s just babysitting he might not know how to handle a sick infant,” Mrs. Young said.
“Is it serious?” Officer Murdock asked.
“Potentially very serious, I— Oh! Bishop!” Mrs. Young smiled.
“Good afternoon, Barbara.” Bishop Barnes waved as he approached.
“Have you seen John anywhere?” Mrs. Young asked, straightening her blouse. “The young man from the plasma center who helped us out a few weeks ago.”
“Oh yes, I saw him this morning, very spirited young man.” The bishop chuckled to himself.
“He has a child with him that may be very sick.” Mrs. Young adjusted her plastic shopping bag in her hand. “We need to find him quickly. Do you have his phone number?”
“I can’t say that I do. Does anyone know where he lives?” Bishop Barnes asked.
“Dude, he’s been staying at Iris’s place since she kicked the bucket,” Mark said.
“Do you know where that is?” Officer Murdock asked.
“Sure,” Mark said.
“Well?” Mrs. Young asked.
“Well, what?” Mark asked.
“Take us to him,” Bishop Barnes said.
“Oh, right.” Mark led the way to Iris’s house.
John stared at the huge ball of t-shirts, towels, and a hoodie that seemed far too big for Lilith to have ever worn. Nothing seemed to be able to contain the little hodag. Somewhere beneath the eight layers of fabric Cerberus struggled against the swaddling. John slumped his shoulders and let out a deep breath.
“It’s for the best.” John reached out and hefted the now beach-ball-sized package, then made for the back door just as the front doorbell rang. John glanced over his shoulder and froze. In the fogged glass of the door he could see the unmistakable shape of a policeman’s hat.
“Dude! Are you there? We brought a priest!” Mark yelled from behind the door.
John’s legs started moving on the eighteenth run of the day, out the glass sliding door and towards the woods.
“That’s not quite how it works,” the bishop said.
“But, you can do an exorcism, right?” Mike asked.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere! Officer, can you see inside?” Mrs. Young asked, trying to peer through the front window.
“I don’t think he’s home, Barb.” Bishop Barnes leaned on the railing.
“Oh, that poor baby,” Mrs. Young said.
“It’s a demon,” Mark crossed the air in front of him.
“It’s a child.” Mrs. Young turned away from the window.
“When was the last time some little monster spat up foamy evil on you?” Mike asked.
“Tuesday. It’s part of being a parent.” Mrs. Young put her hands on her hips and offered her best self-righteous glare at the two men.
“Folks, I think this is getting a little out of hand.” Bishop Barnes adjusted his suit coat.
“Is that John?” Officer Murdock asked, pointing at a figure moving with a bundle towards the trees.
“We better catch him,” Mike said. “He’s in possession of an eldritch creature.”
Inside the house, Connor sat slumped on the arm of a chair. His shoulders dropping, he did not look up when a small copper-haired fairy climbed up next to him.
“Now what are you on about?” Agnes looked down over him. “You look like a wilted daffodil.”
“John agreed to help us,” Connor said. “He wants to go as far as helping us find the pod.”
“Really?” Agnes asked. “That’s bloody brilliant!” She sped to the top of the chair, the dust motes wavering where she danced and stopped. “Why are you so sad?”
“I failed, Nessie.” Connor lay back on the chair. “John is giving up on Cerberus. If he gives up on this, what makes us think he’ll be able to handle tracking down our pod?”
There was a long pause.
Agnes shoved Connor off the chair.
After a tiny scream and a thump, Connor was back on his feet. “Banshee’s sweat! What was that for?”
“You are an idjit! That’s what for.” Agnes sat on the chair and pointed down at Connor. “Would you give up on me?” she asked.
“He wants to help us find the pod,” Connor repeated. “But he can’t even teach a hodag to piss.”
“What exactly did you promise?” Nessie asked.
“I swore to help John.” Connor stood up.
“Then go help him,” Agnes ordered, shoving him out the door.
John raced through the woods, branches hitting his cheeks. Behind him, he could hear the shouts of his pursuers. He side-stepped around trees, leaping over roots, whipping past shrubbery. He almost cleared the ditch.
Almost.
John’s foot caught in the divot and he pitched forward at full running speed. One second he was fleeing through trees and scrub, the next he was spinning through the air and bouncing several times along the ground. The impact when he finally hit a tree was enough to make his head swim. John lay where he fell and groaned.
Several buttons on his shirt had ripped, leaving his chest partially exposed. Lilith isn’t even around to blame for my shirt loss this time. Numbly he pulled at his shirt, something in the back of his mind telling him to check for injuries and broken bones. He could hear voices calling his name.
It snapped him back to reality, and he scrambled to his feet and scooped up the bundle where it had landed. His head wobbled and he missed several steps, landing in a hedge. A world of green leaves and brown branches seemed to engulf him, and it became a struggle for him to stand upright while still clutching the bundle.
“John!”
He turned to see Mrs. Young leading a troop downhill after him, her short pumps throwing clods of dirt up behind her. John tried to take a step away, but the world spun and all he could do was stagger.
“John, are you okay?” Mrs. Young called. “Where’s the baby?”
John blinked several times and tried to open his mouth to say something, but before he could the rest of the crowd showed up.
“Don’t look at it! It’s a demon,” Mike said.
“It’ll try to eat your soul, dude,” Mark chimed in.
“What’s going on here?” The last voice came from behind him, and John turned to see Mrs. Millar and her friend Ethel standing on the far side of the hedge. He was surrounded. Mrs. Young jumped to his defense.
“John has a baby and it’s very sick.” Mrs. Young moved towards the disheveled bundle.
“It’s no baby, it’s some kind of monster.” Mark pulled Mrs. Young away from the pile.
“No.” John reached out his hand to shield everyone from Cerberus.
“En
ough!” Mrs. Millar raised her hands for silence, then turned to John. “Honestly, young man, what have you gotten yourself involved with?” Without waiting for an answer, she reached across the hedge and grabbed the bundle from John’s hands. She rolled it over and then flipped it open. John tensed as the older woman stared into the multi-layered swaddle of clothing.
“I can explain.” John’s head swiveled around desperately and froze. In the distance he could just barely see a small red-haired figure with a stick running toward the house and behind it a scaly green blur that snapped at the stick as it ran.
John blinked and then turned to face the crowd. “I…”
Mrs. Millar frowned. “It’s empty.” She turned to look at John. “Is this some kind of joke?”
A sudden burst of laughter from behind the crowd caused everyone to turn to see Bishop Barnes doubled over in fits of giggles. A few of the others started to reach out, but the older man waved them off with the hand that wasn’t clutching his gut.
“John, I’ve got to hand it to you.” The bishop wiped a tear from his eyes. “That has got to be the best prank I’ve seen in years.”
“Prank?” Mark asked.
“Yes, the invisible dog routine,” Bishop Barnes said.
Mrs. Young rolled her eyes and started to chuckle.
The crowd turned as one to the hollowed bundle and one by one started snickering. The policeman was the last to start laughing, but a few words from the bishop about “good fun” and even the officer gave a begrudging chuckle before excusing herself to return to her duties, though not before admonishing Mike and Mark that while she would not shake them down this once, they really should think about seeing a counselor. Unless they wanted to spend some time in lock-up.
They nodded and their expressions triggered another round of laughter which lasted well after the officer had departed, and Mike and Mark sheepishly apologized to John.
At that point Mrs. Millar turned to the rest. “I suppose since you’re all here on my property it’s only polite of me to offer you some herbal tea.” She gave a nod that made it less of a request and more of a dictate and gestured toward the patio table.