by K. H. Pope
When we get to the old heating and air conditioning place, Ray takes the lead and knocks on the rickety boarded up door. He adjusts his vest like he’s going to a dinner party and he gives me a reassuring nod and wink. The cigarette is still perched between his chapped lips. The door comes open and outsteps a dark haired kid. He’s totally annoyed.
“Boy, what did I tell you about opening the door without asking who it is first?”
“Sorry, Ray,” the kid sighs out heavily.
“I could be an ax murderer.”
“Good thing you’re not, but I’ll do better next time.”
“Make sure you do that. Run tell Francine to come out here for a minute.”
The boy looks at me. Then he goes back inside. Ray returns to stand at my side and wait.
“What’s your favorite sandwich that Lana makes?” I ask simply to make small conversation.
“Chicken salad,” he answers.
“Never tried it. Never really ate anything to be honest.”
“Say it ain’t so. You missing out on some good eating, Alice. I’d do ten cartwheels for that thing, and I can’t even touch my toes.”
Both of us laugh.
“What other sandwiches you like,” I ask.
“Tuna with the holey, white cheese.”
“Swiss cheese,” I reply.
“Yeah, that’s right. Swiss cheese.” He scratches at the back of his neck. “You know what, Alice? I ain’t trying to be a pooper, but I’m a little worried.”
“About what, Ray?”
“I think Friday was the last time I’m going to have her sandwiches.”
Ray is scaring me. I look to him, waiting for him to continue.
“America ain’t what it used to be. Everybody has to fend for themselves. If she comes back here, it’ll be a miracle.”
If he wants to believe this world has swallowed Lana, he can, but I refuse to give up on her. As long as I feel she’s alive, I will continue my search.
Finally, Francine comes outside. She’s a big woman, five-foot-two with thick glasses. Her hair is wrapped up in a green headscarf. She sees me first and considers going back inside. Then she sees Ray, and she lights up. She greets him with open arms, and he kindly accepts her embrace.
“How have you been, Ray?” she asks.
“I’m fine, Francine. I’m fine.”
“Any news on the hydro and the atenolol? I’m going to be out in a couple of days.”
“Not yet, but the guys are going out to tonight. I came by because this lady is here to talk to you. This is Alice. She’s a friend of the Good Lady.”
She sizes me up, and then out of nowhere, a big smile appears on her face. “I like your pants. Where did you get them from?”
“Found them in Venice,” I answer.
“You’re a free spirit, aren’t you?”
Her meaning might be different from my understanding of a free spirit. I answer, “Somewhat.”
“Just like me,” she says.
I smile and pleasantly remark, “I’m hoping you can help me, Francine. Lana is missing. I need to find her.”
She points at me with one squinted eye and says, “You’re not out to hurt her, are you? Don’t lie to me. I know when you’re lying! I can tell when anyone is lying.”
“I’m a friend.”
“Our word is everything out here,” she adds, “and you are no exception.”
“I promise you, we are friends. She saved me once, and now, I’m trying to save her.”
She smiles. She believes me.
“Did you see Lana and Max last Friday?” I ask.
“I did.”
“She handed out the sandwiches?”
“Yes.”
“What was Max doing?”
“He stayed in the van until another car showed up.”
“Another car?” I ask curiously. “Have you ever seen the car or the driver before?”
“No, but the guy got out. He got into it with Max.”
“You remember seeing a license plate number?” I ask.
“Car didn’t have one. It had tinted windows, but a man got out or whatever it was. The guy was weird looking. He was unusually tall, black hair, and dark eyes. I thought he was going to kill Max. He had that boy by the throat. During the scuffle, Max lost his cell phone. I don’t even think he knew it.”
“What was the fight about?”
“I don’t know. Couple of guys from the building next door had to break it up. The guy got back in the car and drove away.”
“Do you know what happened to the phone, Francine?”
“Sticky Fingers Rod grabbed it and kept right on going. That kid was quicker than lightning. The whole thing was just crazy to watch.”
“Who is Sticky Fingers Rod?”
Ray chimes in, “He’s a homeless kid. A klepto that has a thing for collecting cell phones.”
“Which building he lives in?” I ask.
Ray shakes his head and says, “The boy lives near the Red River in a patch of woods on the other side of Highway 220. He won’t be easy to find.”
I exhale with aggravation and ask, “Have you guys seen Sticky Fingers Rod around since the fight?”
Both of them shake their heads.
“How often does he show up?”
“He comes and goes whenever he feels like it,” Francine answers.
“Do either one of you have a phone?”
“I do,” Ray says.
“Will you do me a favor?”
I give him my number, and I remark, “Call me the moment you see him. Don’t question him about the phone. Don’t approach him; just let him do whatever it is he does.”
“We won’t say a word,” Francine replies. She abruptly turns around and heads back inside. I believe Lana’s disappearance hurts Francine more than she cares to admit, and that feeling of helplessness must pisses her off. I feel the same way.
“I better get back to Sunny. He might shoot a rat because it looked at him funny.”
“Ray, if you don’t mind, can you take me to a room with a working door?”
“Sure, the ice cream place has one on the outside that leads to a utility room. What you need it for?”
“It’s best not to ask.”
As we approach the building, I’m reminded of something. I don’t know what sparked it.
“Ray, what is hydro and atenolol?”
“You talking about what Francine was looking for?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re blood pressure pills, hydrochlorothia-something and atenolol. I had the piece of paper, but the guys that go scavenging at night have it. You never had a charge with high blood pressure before?”
“No,” I answer.
“Well, that’s what they are. She’s afraid she’s going to die if she doesn’t get her meds. Doctor told her a while ago that she couldn’t stop taking them on her own. At least, the beta blockers she supposed to be taking every day. Why you asking?”
“Thought maybe she was addicted to drugs.”
“Naw, not Francine. She doesn’t need anything else that’ll make her crazier than what she already is.”
“She doesn’t seem crazy to me.”
“Today is a good day for her. Tomorrow, there’s no telling who you might be speaking to. She’s more moody than a sloth.”
His little quirky sayings are so funny.
We stop at the door, and Ray tries to open it. I stop him. “No, I have it. Ray, this is where I leave you.”
“Huh?”
“A quicker way to travel.”
“Oh,” he says with confusion. “Okay, well, I hope you find the Good Lady. Will you let us know when you do?”
“I will.”
After calling for the transfer chamber, I turn the knob. Ray looks at the white room with wide eyes and an open mouth. I don’t stick around to answer his questions.
CHAPTER 7
I make an entrance into the home of Tobius ‘Tip’ Conway. He lives in Plain Dea
ling, Louisiana, in a decrepit trailer on South Perrin Street, not far from Lana’s home. He is a twenty-one year old wizard with no direction in life, but he’s very smart. Tip is the type of person who strives for nothing and is perfectly content being that way, no matter how bad the circumstances. He’s seriously the poster child for positive thinking in a shitty situation. I figure with his input, I may have a fourth of a chance at finding Lana.
Tip is skinny, has strawberry blonde hair, a bright smile that makes him very adorable, and a cowlick birthmark behind his left ear. His sense of style doesn’t go beyond blue jeans and t-shirts. A suit is not in his closet anywhere, and he never had a need for one. His job is being himself with very bad benefits.
Instantly, I regret barging into his trailer because in the living room on the older than dirt brown sofa is Tip and a woman. She’s full figured with curly blonde hair, brown roots, and a wedding band that gleams like a distant star. Their clothes are half off or half on - depending upon how you view it - and both can hardly contain themselves.
The moment I turn off the radio the blonde comes out of his arms with her boobs uncovered. Tip stands, pants falling down to his ankles. He’s wearing cartoon boxers with a sad little boner underneath. When he realizes who I am, he totally forgets about the horny wife, who’s now fumbling around to get her clothes back on.
“Alice?” His lips are smeared red from kissing his guest.
I smile. I must admit he looks pretty funny.
Tip tries to walk over to me but nearly stumbles because his pants are at his ankles. He stops and pulls them up.
“Tip, who is this woman?” The blonde’s high pitch voice catches me off guard.
Instead of answering her, he comes at me with open arms. I stop him right in his track with an outstretched hand. His boner is still at full attention, and I don’t want him touching me at all.
“Tip, get rid of her!” she demands.
“I ain’t gettin’ rid’ of Alice,” he says, staring at me.
She huffs, grabbing what’s left of her clothes, and makes a very dramatic exit.
“Alice, you look so sexy!”
“Mm-hmm,” I remark as I toss my coat on an armchair.
“Did you think about my offer?”
“After ten months, you’re still on that?”
“Oh, yeah.”
I was wrong about Tip. He does strive to do something and that’s to sleep with every woman possible.
“I’m not here to be your wife. I’m here for your help.”
“Hello, Alice,” Tip’s guardian angel says as he appears behind the sofa.
“Sigurd,” I reply with a big smile.
This age old guardian angel is dressed in a white robe with a blue sash tied around his waist. His feet are adorned with braided sandals. He has luminescent shoulder length brunette hair and grandfatherly facial features.
Tip rolls his eyes and flops down on the sofa. He has never been fond of his guardian angel, even though he’s never seen or talked to him. Tip only knows of Sigurd because I told him, and I only know of Sigurd because I’ve touched Tip. I shook Tip’s hand the first time I met him, and his guardian appeared. It happens with every person I come in direct physical contact with. I’ve done it twice before with two other people, and after that last time with Tip, I decided that handshakes and bodily contact overall were not happening any longer. I really don’t want to see anyone’s guardian. Reminds me of what I used to be, and it’s too painful because I can’t be that anymore.
“Alice, how have you been?” Sigurd says happily.
“I’m okay, and you?”
“It looks weird when you’re talking to the air,” Tip comments.
“As diligent as ever,” Sigurd says proudly.
“Good. That’s good.”
Tip whispers to me, “Is there any way I can get rid of my guardian angel?”
“He’s been pouting since they’ve put a binding spell on him,” Sigurd says.
“Who put a binding spell on you?” I ask.
“He told you that, huh? Why you telling her?” Tip doesn’t know where to look. He’s simply yelling at the air.
“Answer my question.”
“Harrison Piedmont.”
“Who is he, and why?”
“Harrison Piedmont is some important guy in Moltean Corporation and in the Magi Elite International Congress. He put a binding spell on me because I was with his wife.”
“The exact same harlot that just left,” Sigurd points out.
“The woman that just left?” I repeat to Tip.
“If my guardian was alive, YOU’D BE DEAD FOR SNITCHING,” he says, looking around.
“You need to leave that woman alone. As a matter of fact, you need to leave all married women alone.”
“You saw Martha Piedmont. If you were a guy, would you leave that alone?”
I don’t get this kid. He must have a death wish.
“You’ll never be a guy. So, that was a pointless question to ask.” Tip sits up. “Anyway, changing the subject, why are you really here since you don’t want to marry me?”
“I’m back because Lana is missing, and I need your help to find her.”
He says with disbelief, “Since when? I haven’t heard anything.”
“Since Friday.”
Tip asks with concern, “Is she alive? Did one of those crazy Fellowship people take her house or something?”
“I really don’t know if she’s alive, and no one has taken her house.”
“What can I do?”
“Well, the sheriff department won’t do anything because they’re dealing with problems in Shreveport and Bossier City. That means I’m on my own. I’ve never had to search for anyone before.”
“Yes, you have,” Tip says.
“No, I haven’t.”
He sighs and answers, “You’ve been tracking Calamous Fawlke since you left here.”
“I have, haven’t I?”
“Yeah, Alice, you have.”
“Still, I need your help.”
“So, where was she last seen?” Tip asks. “Anyone knows?”
“I have no idea, and I haven’t run into anyone that does.”
“You say she was missing since Friday, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” Tip begins, “you already know her routine. Lana and the Sisters at St. Eligius make sandwiches for the homeless Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, every week without fail. Then they all go to Bossier City on Mondays, Minden on Wednesdays, and Viking on Fridays to hand them out. I’d say start at St. Eligius. That’s where she began her day on Friday, and then head out to Viking.”
“Been to the church and Viking,” I remark, sitting down next to him.
“What is it that she does after she finishes handing out the sandwiches?”
“I think she goes back home.”
“Have you spoken to Jeff?”
“That’s a good idea,” I remark. “I haven’t spoken to her brother yet.”
“You definitely need to do that, Alice, and you need to talk to Max since he drives her out to those places.”
“He’s missing, too.”
“Then talk to his wife. She might know something.”
“He got a phone call while he was at Viking according to a couple of people that was there Friday, and someone showed up and got into a fight with Max.”
“Sounds like Max got Lana into some kind of trouble, something that he’s mixed up in. That’s not good. You definitely need to talk to his wife.”
“Can you get me Max and Jeff’s addresses? I don’t know where they live.” So glad I visited this kid. He may be a horny toad, but he’s a smart horny toad.
Tip goes over to a busted bookshelf and grabs two laptops, which is remarkably in good condition. He sets each one down on the coffee table in front of us.
Watching him gives me an idea, and I ask, “Can you do something else for me, also?”
“You want me to pick out our
wedding rings?”
He almost got a yes out of me. Almost.
“Can you track down other people on that computer?”
“Yeah,” he answers.
“I want you to find Lily and Calamous Fawlke.”
“I’ll do it if you marry me.”
I glare at him.
“Why are you playing so hard to get, Alice? You know you can’t deny the Tip Conway charm.”
“I’m being serious right now.”
“I hear wedding bells,” he says with a big smile. “I don’t like long engagements. We can get married today if you want.”
“I’m not marrying you.”
“You’ll reconsider.”
“Will you look into finding Calamous, please?”
He laughs and says, “Looking for banished warlocks is completely out of my reach, technologically and magically. I can try to find his mother, but you’ll have to do me a favor first.”
“I’m not marrying you.”
“You’re just turning me on more.”
“What is the favor, Tip?” I ask impatiently.
“I need you to break the binding spell.”
“How do you know I can break that spell?”
“I’ve heard that the fallen can break several spells casted by witches, wizards, and warlocks. The binding spell is no exception.”
“That’s not entirely true,” I remark.
“You’re not a very good liar, Alice.”
“Fine. I’ll take the spell off, but you must find Lily Fawlke. I’m being serious.”
“This is a bad idea,” Sigurd chimes in.
“I’ll find her. No problem.”
“How long will it take?” I ask.
“A day, maybe two, I don’t know.”
“Alice,” Sigurd says. “I must give my objection on this matter of my charge looking for Lily Fawlke. You’re putting him in harm’s way, and it’s against the rules.”
“Sigurd, the rules no longer apply to me, or did you forget?”
“He could very well get hurt or killed. Is that what you want to happen, Alice?”
“I wouldn’t have asked Tip for his help if I thought he couldn’t handle it.”
“Love how you two have conversations about me like I’m not even in the room,” Tip comments.
I do understand his guardian’s concerns, but what Calamous Fawlke has done against my last charge has set me on this course of action. There is no turning back.