by Carmen Caine
He wasn’t the slightest bit surprised.
“I know,” he said. “Ajax told me.”
I felt a bit let down, but then, how was I to know? I couldn’t speak dog language. “Oh, well, did he get to see who it was?”
“No.” He shook his head. “He only saw them run across the street and disappear. He stopped to help Jareth.” He moved closer and our hands brushed. “We’ll find out what happened. There are ways.”
I wondered what that meant, and how he could do anything now that he didn’t have an active sense of Light. But looking at him standing there in all of his sophisticated coolness, I suddenly remembered I was wearing bedraggled pajamas with finger-combed hair.
“Uh, I’ll go get ready,” I said quickly. And feeling my cheeks threatening to turn red once again, I escaped for a quick shower and fresh clothes.
By the time I returned, Jareth and Rafael sat at the kitchen table while Al poured Betty’s homemade waffle mix into a smoking waffle maker.
“I’m going to have to fix this thing again,” he commented, flipping a hot waffle out onto a plate. “You kids eat up. You’re in for a real treat today. Learning how to survive takes energy!”
I eyed Jareth, expecting him to make some snarky comment, but he just sat at the table cradling his chin in his hand. He’d washed his face, and with the makeup gone I could see the dark, purple circles under his eyes.
Something clearly had happened last night.
As the coffeemaker dinged, I grabbed the carafe and pouring a cup, offered it to him with a packet of Equal. “Drink it.”
“What’s this?” Jareth asked, eyeing the mug with open disdain.
“Coffee,” I said, shoving it into his hands.
“Who drinks coffee this early in the morning?” he groaned. “It’s 10:30 a.m!”
I laughed a little, and turned to find Rafael watching me from his seat across the table. I couldn’t begin to interpret his expression, but he didn’t look too happy. I was just about to ask him what was wrong when Grace chose that moment to wander into the kitchen with Tigger at her heels.
Spying Jareth, her eyes lit with open interest, and snagging a piece of toast, she devoured it on the way to the refrigerator. Tigger obligingly snuffled behind her, nose plastered to the floor, licking up any crumbs that fell like an anteater.
“Good morning.” She smiled at everyone as she poured a glass of milk, and plopping down in the chair next to Jareth, asked abruptly, “How’d you get here from L.A. when the airport’s closed?”
I jerked in surprise.
But even ill, Jareth was a smooth actor. Setting his untouched coffee mug aside, he leaned close to Grace and smiled. “I can’t give away my secrets now, can I?”
“Secrets?” she insisted, but her resolve was already melting under his charm.
“Secrets,” he simply repeated in a lower voice.
She giggled, forgetting entirely about her original question and asked, “Are you going to learn survival tips with us?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Jareth all but batted his eyelashes in return.
She squealed then, and jumping up from the table, ran off to get ready.
“You’re incorrigible!” I snorted, although deep inside, I found the entire exchange perversely amusing.
“Absolutely!” He flashed a cocky grin.
We didn’t say much after that. Al kept piling waffles on everyone’s plates until we were so stuffed I didn’t see how we were going to even waddle to the porch.
Once we’d finished, Al sent Rafael and Jareth home to get weather-appropriate clothing, and I helped him clear the table.
“We’ll make our survival packs first,” Al was saying with a satisfied nod. Pulling a key out of his pocket, he added, “I’ll just go get the supplies from the garage, kiddo.”
“I can help,” I volunteered, wiping my hands dry with a dishcloth and stepped forward to follow.
But Al held out a blocking hand and said, “That garage isn’t safe right now, kiddo. I’ve got a project in there. You just go ask Betty for some of that nail polish, and I’ll be back in a jiffy!”
I watched him unlock the door leading to the garage and disappear inside. What was he doing in there? He’d obviously built something with all that PVC piping and plastic wrap, but I just shrugged and ran to the family room to ask Betty for another nail polish donation.
By the time Jareth and Rafael returned, wearing dramatic outfits that made them look very much like Navy SEALs, Al had his supplies ready.
With a loud, obnoxious yawn, Jareth swaggered to the table and sank into a chair with a blissful sigh. “Wake me up when you’re ready to go play in the snow,” he said, closing his eyes and pretending to fall instantly to sleep.
I snorted.
He’d obviously recovered.
“Up, soldier!” Al barked and clapped his hands.
Jareth cracked open a surprised eye.
“It’s time to prepare!” Al smiled at us and shouted for Grace to join and as soon as she skipped into the kitchen, our training began.
As we took our seats around the table, Rafael’s leg brushed against mine, but he didn’t pull it away. He left it there. And the longer it was there, the more my skin tingled and the faster my heart beat.
Al was talking, telling us about the importance of always having a survival kit in the car, backpack, or bike and handed each of us a plastic bag.
I tried very hard to pay attention but failed miserably. Rafael was just too distracting. I was too busy noticing everything about him, from the way he swallowed to the length of his eyelashes.
At some point, he glanced sideways at me and with a playful wink, leaned close to whisper in my ear, “Why are you staring? Am I that handsome?”
If I’d thought I’d blushed before, I was wrong. With flaming cheeks, I pretended to cough and turned my head to watch Al as he animatedly waved his hands, pacing back and forth with Tigger faithfully pacing behind him. The bloodhound stared determinedly at Al’s hands as if some food would magically appear in them and fall to the floor.
Al was waving plastic baggies, telling us to fill them with packages of almonds, bandages, scissors, and gauze, making them the first items in our first aid kits. Once we’d done that, he nodded in satisfaction.
“And it’s simple enough to make your own waterproof matches!” he said, placing two paper cups on the table. One was filled with water and the other with Betty’s neon purple nail polish. Taking a match from a box, he dipped the tip in the nail polish and said, “It’s easy as pie. Dip the match and let it dry. And when it gets wet after, it don’t matter!”
We all smiled a little at his attempt at rhyming but watched with interest as he dunked the match in the water, and then struck it against the sole of his boot.
It flared into life.
“Wow!” I said, appropriately awed.
He gave us each a pile of matches and leaned against the counter to watch, chin in hand, until he was satisfied we understood what to do. After a moment, he left to join Betty in the family room.
“This is taxing work!” Jareth complained after about two minutes. He gave a loud yawn. “I’m not used to slaving away this early in the day. I’m starving. In fact, I’m so hungry even that bone smells good.”
He grinned at Tigger sitting in front of the refrigerator, gnawing on a rubber peanut-butter scented doggie diet bone Betty had ordered off the internet.
“Ask Tigger if you can have a bite,” I said sweetly, gathering my matches. “You’d probably digest rubber pretty easily.”
“Rubber?” He leaned close to inspect Tigger’s diet bone and said in disgust, “That’s dog abuse.”
From the corner of my eye, I noticed that Rafael was smiling, but I was a little too embarrassed to actually face him at the moment.
Al returned to inspect our work.
“Well done!” He beamed. “We’ll try some of those matches out today after they’ve been sitting in the snow! But
before we head out, we’ve got to cover the signal mirrors! While a dedicated signal mirror is without a doubt the most effective daytime signaling device, you can always improvise by using regular mirrors or even an ordinary CD. So, go find some signaling devices and we’ll be off to put this stuff to use!”
Jareth stretched and gave a loud, obnoxious yawn. “Someone get something for me.”
I frowned at him. “Sure. I’ve got a couple CDs that I don’t want anymore,” I said, slipping out of my chair. Running to my room, I tugged open the bottom drawer of my dresser and pulled out two of Jareth’s CDs.
As an afterthought, I slid the top drawer open and grabbed several programmable atoms and slipped them into my jeans’ pocket.
The Mesmers were still out there. I knew Rafael had promised a bodyguard would be watching out for me, but I didn’t know if I could trust Brock. And I wanted to be extra prepared.
Returning to the kitchen, I found Rafael and Jareth waiting alone with their survival packs before them on the table. I brandished the CD cases with a wicked grin.
Jareth grunted.
Rafael laughed in a charming way that threatened to make me blush again, so I focused on my survival pack and then pretended to tie my shoes. As I inspected the knots, Tigger’s slobbery tongue reached out to lick my fingers.
I looked down into the brindled bloodhound’s imploring eyes.
“Sorry, Tigger,” I apologized. “I can’t give you a hotdog. Betty would get mad at me for ruining your diet.”
I reached over to pet him when I saw something slip from my pocket, and just before it hit the floor, I belatedly realized what it was.
It was a programmable atom.
With horror, I grasped for it, feverishly trying to control my thoughts to prevent another giant, gun-toting Hello Kitty from popping up in Betty’s kitchen.
I saw Tigger’s long tongue snake out.
There was nothing I could do.
I could only note Rafael and Jareth’s shocked faces as Tigger slurped up the programmable atom.
But then—apparently thinking it was one of Betty’s weight-loss pills—he promptly spat it out.
Again, we watched in horror as the programmable atom slowly arced to the floor where it bounced once and turned into a small pile of purple goo.
I scrunched my eyes shut, not knowing what to expect, but then I heard Rafael’s soft chuckle.
My eyes flew open.
On the floor in front of Tigger was a hotdog. It wasn’t even a fancy, super juicy hotdog. It was one of those cheap, generic-brand hotdogs that Betty was always buying.
Tigger’s tail wagged, and he lay down with a loud, exaggerated sight of pleasure and promptly inhaled his prize.
“I didn’t think that!” I said with a laugh. “That was all Tigger!”
“Apparently, dogs can control programmable atoms as well,” Rafael observed, still chuckling.
Even Jareth was amused. Snapping his fingers, another programmable atom appeared between his fingers, and dropping to one knee next to Tigger, he patiently explained, “You can have anything you want, Tigger. Anything. Just wish it and it’ll be yours.”
Rafael objected, but only half-heartedly as Jareth tossed the pearl into Tigger’s mouth.
I held my breath as—once again—Tigger spit the programmable atom out, belatedly wondering what we were going to say to Al and Betty when their entire kitchen filled up with hotdogs.
The pile of purple goo bubbled before it turned yet again into another single, cheap generic-brand hotdog.
Wagging his tail, Tigger inhaled this one as fast as he’d finished the first.
“Tigger isn’t a greedy soul”, Rafael said, amusement touching his lips.
I expected Jareth to disagree, but even he seemed genuinely charmed by the old, potbellied dog.
I smiled, wondering what Ajax would’ve conjured up. I almost thought of giving him one of mine just out of curiosity, but then my self-preservation kicked in. He wouldn’t waste it on a harmless hotdog. He’d probably create something to torture me with, or at the very least, he’d conjure up a Sydney-sized kennel, complete with padlock to free himself of his babysitting duties.
But thoughts of Ajax made me realize that I hadn’t seen him in while, and I was just about to ask Rafael where he was when I heard Grace’s voice.
“Better not let Mom catch you guys,” she said, shocking us all.
We whirled to find her standing behind us, her brown eyes unreadable.
How much had she seen?
“What’s up?” she asked us, noting our sudden silence.
But then Al strode into the kitchen, a toothpick in his mouth and rubbing his hands together. “Well done, soldiers! It’s time to deploy!”
As we bundled into our scarves and coats, Tigger pressed his cold nose in my hand, licking my fingers a couple of times in thanks before plodding back to the refrigerator. Turning around a couple of times to make sure his tail was aligned with his nose, he settled in front of the fridge for a nice, long nap.
“Guess he doesn’t want to learn survival tips.” I giggled a little.
“He’s smart enough to know he can’t survive more than twenty feet from the refrigerator,” Jareth commented with dry sarcasm.
We all smiled at that, even Rafael. Al kissed Betty goodbye and led us outside, through the backyard towards the greenbelt, and into the nearby park. The sky overhead was a miserable gray, heavy with the promise of more snow as we fell into step behind him. Jareth and Grace walked up front, with Rafael beside me bringing up the rear.
But Al didn’t give us any time to talk. He began delivering his pep talk almost immediately. “A person who survives is a person who FIGHTS! Say it with me, Grace!”
Rolling her eyes but grinning good-naturedly, Grace repeated, “’F’ for Fear, ‘I’ for Injuries, ‘G’ for Get Warm, ‘H’ for Hunger, ‘T’ for Thirst, and ‘S’ for Signal!”
“Well done!” Al stopped a moment to beam down at her. Holding up a finger, he said, “You fight fear with logic. Fear is the number one enemy. Its whole goal is to stop you from taking action. Know you’re gonna feel it but never give into it. You’ve got to fight it and run from it as fast as you can!”
I blinked in surprise and nearly tripped as Al’s words seared into my brain. I was dimly aware of Rafael sliding his arm around my shoulders to help me regain my balance, but my full attention had just locked onto Al’s words.
I’d searched the internet looking for ideas of how to conquer fear and hadn’t come up with anything nearly so valuable as Al’s pep talk.
Fight fear with logic. And never give into fear. Take action and move on! I could remember that.
“Now let’s talk about injuries!” Al was saying, tromping down the trail. “Deal with all injuries quickly. Never wander around in the dark because you’ll just end up with more of them to worry about!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Grace shouted, beginning to march in step.
“Now let’s talk about ‘Get Warm’!” Al was clearly enjoying himself. “Remember when you’re cold, you can’t think! You fight cold with shelter and fire.”
“A five-star hotel with a hot tub should be sufficient,” Jareth drawled, looking as bored as he sounded.
But Al kept going. “Hunger. Ration your provisions. Thirst. Melt the snow first before you try to drink it, and lastly, let’s talk about ‘Signal’! Stay close to where you got lost and signal. They always start looking for you where you first got lost. They can’t find you if you wander around!”
Grace put a hand to her eyes and pointed to the street through a break in the trees. “Why don’t we just flag the cars down and borrow a cell phone? Or we could just walk home …” She grinned cheekily at her dad.
Laughing, he tousled her head and said, “Today, we’ll take advantage of the snow and focus on ‘Get Warm’!”
“Great idea!” Jareth rubbed his hands together briskly. “Let’s grab a hot chocolate and find that five-star hotel.”<
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“You can’t fool me, Mr. Fancy-Pants-Rock-Star.” Al turned a sudden, shrewd gaze on him. “You’ve got quite the set of muscles on you. That just doesn’t happen by accident. That’s hard work, discipline, and purpose staring right at me.”
Jareth hesitated.
Turning to Rafael, Al’s blue eyes brightened with intelligent humor. “And the same goes for you, Mr. Never-At-School-Medical-Student. You can’t fool me, either. I know soldiers when I see them!”
We all stopped dead in our tracks.
“Now, let’s get back to the business of building shelters!” he announced with a chuckle. Clearing his throat loudly, he continued tromping down the trail, oblivious to our shocked expressions, or at least pretending to be.
“Let’s go,” Rafael ordered, nodding after Al, but he was suddenly much more serious than I’d ever seen him before.
Jareth didn’t even protest as we hurried after Al.
It wasn’t the first time I found myself wondering just how much Al knew or really suspected.
I was beginning to think he might just know the truth.
Chapter Seventeen – Blondie
We burst out of the trail and into the park.
Al was walking towards a small open space surrounded by ice-covered trees. And as we ran after him, more snowflakes drifted lazily down from the sky.
But we’d only just caught up when he pointed to a man pulling several children on a sled.
“At ease, soldiers!” he said. “That’s the captain of block 241. We’ve got a bit of business that needs finishing. Wait here!”
As soon as he’d trudged out of earshot, Grace began bouncing up and down.
“Time for a snow fight!” she suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Nodding her chin towards Al, she added, “He’ll be talking at least half an hour!”
She ran a few feet away and began building an arsenal of snowballs as Jareth stretched and yawned.
Clearly, he had no intention of joining in.
I stood, keenly aware of Rafael standing only inches away, and all at once I decided to quit avoiding him. After all, he’d kissed me. What was wrong with him knowing the truth, that I thought he was handsome? Why was I so embarrassed about it?