Orson

by David Delaney

  Being sure to keep my voice low and away from Mr. and Mrs. Kelly's super hearing I said, "Only two bedrooms." I grinned. "I guess we'll have to share."

  "No such luck, Romeo. You'll be sleeping in the basement."

  "The basement? But I got the vibe that there is something . . ." I searched for the right word. "Something different down there."

  "Oh, it is different all right," Elyse assured me, with a smile.

  I swallowed, my mouth and throat suddenly dry.

  "Come on. The quicker we get everything cleaned and unpacked, the sooner your questions will be answered."

  Elyse led me back downstairs. I was put to work vacuuming. With the four of us, the work went quickly. The entire main and second floor were dusted and vacuumed. The beds were made up with clean, crisp sheets. As Mrs. Kelly, Elyse, and I finished upstairs, Mr. Kelly whipped up some grilled cheese sandwiches and a veggie platter with ranch dip.

  "So, Orson, there's a few things I want to cover before we head downstairs," said Mr. Kelly.

  "Okay," I said, around a mouthful of sandwich.

  "The reaction you had by the car, when we first arrived, is something you will need to get used to," he told me. "Our animal is always with us, just hovering in the background. No matter where we are or what we're doing, you need to remember that. You're about to get a crash course in something that the three of us have had years to learn: control."

  I nodded.

  "What you've been experiencing the past few days is your animal trying to break free."

  "I have a question about that," I said.

  Mr. Kelly gestured for me to continue.

  "Elyse's cat form . . . Uh, that's the right way to say that , right?" I looked to Elyse, and she nodded. "Elyse's cat form was much bigger, had more mass, than Elyse. The laws of physics say that's impossible."

  "Great question. The short answer is: we don't know. In the past we would have explained it away as magic. A term that is overused, by the way. As I mentioned earlier, our researchers are starting to discover insights about our abilities in relation to quantum physics. Do you know what Einstein said about quantum physics?"

  "Something about it being 'spooky,' I think?"

  "Yes, he did use the word 'spooky,' but he also stated that the laws of physics would need to be rewritten. It is apparent, and becoming more so every day, that magic and science are not mutually exclusive. They may even be opposite sides of the same coin. Does that make sense?"

  "Yeah. It's mind blowing, but I get what you're saying," I said.

  "Good. The past few days, your body has been in a state of flux. Think about it like flicking a light switch off and on. Your body is not sure what its natural state should be. After your first change, you will be able to distinguish the differences between your human and animal form."

  "And I will have control?" I asked.

  Mrs. Kelly smiled and Elyse shook her head.

  "I'm going to say no. Control — true, absolute control — takes longer to master than just a long weekend."

  "That's why Dad had you quit your job," Elyse explained. "You're going to spend your days learning to control the animal side of yourself."

  "That's correct. I know you need your paycheck, so I'm going to put you on my company's payroll as an assistant. And you will be doing some assistant-type work, but mostly you'll be learning everything you need to know about being one of us."

  "One of you? So you think I may be a cat also?" I hoped that was the case. It would give Elyse and me something more in common. Plus, I wasn't sure how the rules worked. Maybe cat people could only be in romantic relationships with other cat people.

  "We don't know. And that's odd." Mr. Kelly's voice remained even and calm, but I could see the worry manifested in a tightening around his eyes.

  "How's that odd?" I wanted to know, but I was also concerned by what the answer may be.

  Mr. Kelly and Mrs. Kelly shared a look. Elyse reached for my hand under the table.

  "We should be able to smell what you are, but so far we've got nothing," he said.

  I leaned back in my chair, glancing at each of them and looking down at the table. "Oh."

  "It doesn't mean anything, Orson." Elyse leaned toward me her other hand coming up under my chin gently pushing up so that I met her eyes. "No one has ever had experience with someone like you."

  "Like me, the monster. I got it." I had successfully been keeping the overwhelming feelings of dread at bay all day long, since last night really. But how was I not supposed to be completely mental about all of this? Hey, Orson, you're a shape-shifter. Hey, Orson you're probably our version of the monster that lives under the bed. Hey, Orson, we can't even tell what kind of animal you're going to turn into, because you know you may be the boogeyman. With my luck, I would end up shifting into a giant skunk.

  "Stop it," Elyse demanded. "We don't know everything, but that doesn't mean we're totally helpless."

  "She's right, Orson," said Mrs. Kelly. "We wouldn't have brought you to the cabin if we thought you were a lost cause."

  Mr. Kelly pushed back from the table and stood up. "Okay, let's head downstairs. Orson, I need you to try to stay as calm as possible. We use this cabin to help shape-shifters who are having control issues."

  "Control issues?"

  Elyse, Mrs. Kelly, and I stood up and followed Mr. Kelly to the stairs.

  "Yes. Even those of us born with our abilities are not immune to problems. They usually manifest as psychological problems. For instance, an intense traumatic experience could lead to a kind of PTSD that could cause control issues."

  "And you bring them here?" I was a little surprised. Yeah, it's a cabin in the woods, but it seemed awfully close to civilization. A cabin located somewhere in the backwoods of Montana or Alaska or someplace similar seemed more suitable.

  "Don't let the look of the cabin or the location fool you." Mr. Kelly flipped a light switch and the basement stairs illuminated. We descended single file, Elyse keeping a hold of my hand as I trailed behind her. "It is equipped with everything we need." Mr. and Mrs. Kelly reached the bottom of the stairs and stood off to the side. As I reached the bottom step, the room beyond became visible and my stomach clenched. The basement was one large room with a polished concrete floor and walls of solid stone bricks. The eye catcher, though, was the steel cage in the far corner of the room.

  "Um . . . that's a real nice jail cell you guys have . . . here in the basement of your mountain cabin." I couldn't help myself. It was beyond surreal.

  Mr. Kelly chuckled. "I know it's odd, but you'll soon realize that it's necessary."

  "So, I go into the cage." It wasn't a question. This whole shape-shifter thing might be new to me, but I wasn't a complete idiot. I could be the Ollphiest, something even these three-hundred-year-old cat-people were scared of. It made sense.

  "Mostly for your own safety," Mrs. Kelly tried to assure me.

  "I get it." I gave Mrs. Kelly what I hoped was my best reassuring smile. "I really do."

  Mr. Kelly walked into the center of the room. He pointed out the walls and floor. "This entire room is constructed of steel-reinforced concrete and stone. The cell bars are iron coated with silver."

  "Silver?" I asked.

  "Some of the world's legends and folklore are true," Elyse offered.

  "I like to think of silver as nature's counterbalance to us," Mr. Kelly picked up on Elyse's comment.

  "So it, what? Can kill shape-shifters?" I asked.

  "In large enough quantities, yes, but here we just use it as a deterrent," Mr. Kelly assured me.

  Right. Silver kills shape-shifters. Oh, by the way, Orson, would you mind stepping into the silver-lined cage?

  "The bars hurt, a lot, if you touch them. But they won't kill you." Elyse squeezed my hand and gave her dad a please-don't-scare-my-boyfriend look.

  Mr. Kelly gestured me forward. He pointed to the floor. The polished concrete had designs inlaid in a darker color. They were faint, but they spre
ad out in front of the cell in an intricate pattern. "Secondary precautions. Warding runes."

  "Runes? Like, magic runes?" I bent over to get a better look.

  "Exactly," Mr. Kelly confirmed.

  "So magic is real." I looked up at Mr. Kelly. "Not just ancient or misunderstood science? Like we were talking about earlier?"

  "What I said earlier is true. Our scientists are finding many correlations between quantum physics and what we've called magic. That said, there is still much that is unexplained. The group we hired to inscribe and power these runes can do things that can only be described as magic."

  "What do they do? The runes," I asked.

  "They keep the beasts that dwell within us . . . calm. Or calmer." Mr. Kelly walked over to the bars and pointed to the runes inscribed on them as well. "These are set in such a way that we can sort of turn them up and down as we need them. Quite an amazing piece of spell work."

  "How do the spell casters," (There's a word I thought I would never use outside of gaming) "power up the runes? Is it incantations and magic wands? You know 'expecto patronum' or something like that?"

  Elyse snorted out a laugh. Even her mom was smiling. Mr. Kelly just looked confused. I guess he wasn't a big reader of magical fiction.

  "It's nothing so . . . elaborate or interesting, Orson," said Mrs. Kelly.

  Mr. Kelly still looked confused and Mrs. Kelly assured him she would explain it later. Elyse walked over and took my hand, and I pulled her in close. She had a way of making me feel calm and centered. In a way, it was its own kind of magic.

  "What's next? Do I just go into the cage and . . ." I trailed off.

  Mr. Kelly shook his head, smiling. He pointed over to a seating area opposite the cage. I had to smile. It was patio furniture. It was the fancy kind that looks like wicker, with comfortable looking cushions, but in actuality was made from sturdy composite and durable water friendly material. We sold something similar at Costco. Or Costco sold something similar. I had to get used to the idea that I didn't work there anymore.

  "That's a nice set. Perfect for easy clean up," I noted.

  Mr. Kelly nodded. "Yes. As you can imagine, it can get a tad messy down here sometimes. Let's sit down and we can go over a few more things."

  Elyse's parents let us take the two-person love seat. I was thankful they understood that her being close helped my nerves. They pulled the other two chairs up close, our knees almost touching.

  Mr. Kelly took a moment to gather his thoughts before he began. "You should think of this basement, the cell specifically, as a tool. When a shape-shifter suffers from control issues, containment is key."

  ""That's understandable," I said. "How does a problem with control manifest?"

  "It doesn't happen often, but sometimes our animal side can become more dominant, and that's a very dangerous thing." Mr. Kelly looked to Mrs. Kelly to continue.

  "The biggest problem that arises is the loss of impulse control. For instance, last night, when you were attacked by the blood mage―"

  "Blood mage? The shark-nurse was a blood mage?" I turned to Elyse, my eyes wide. "Like a blood mage, blood mage?"

  Blood Mages are a class of character in World of Warcraft. In the game, they are powerful spell casters that could hand out some pretty serious damage, and Mrs. Kelly was speaking about them as if they were as common as shoplifters.

  "It's an ancient term for people who use blood magic. That's the worst kind of magic because it requires human sacrifice. I sometimes think the WoW development team has some inside Society information," Elyse explained.

  "How do you not just laugh out loud every time we log-on to play? I mean you're living this stuff for real. Every day." I was in awe. How could I not be? Elyse's main avatar in the game is what's called a Feral Druid; a character that shape-shifts into animals, one of which is a giant cat, to fight the various in-game bad guys.

  Elyse shrugged. I shrugged back and made a goofy face. She giggled. Mr. Kelly cleared his throat. Oh, right, it was serious time.

  "Sorry. It's just your daughter is one bad Mamba-Jamba."

  I could read the question on his face, but before he could ask, Mrs. Kelly spoke up.

  "You can Google it later, dear."

  I turned my attention back to Mrs. Kelly. "I'm sorry. You were telling me about the blood mage and loss of control."

  "Correct. You witnessed me shift into what we call beast-form."

  Elyse squeezed my hand and said, "They don't care that that's what it's also called in comic books."

  I bit my lip and nodded for Mrs. Kelly to continue, but I would totally be readdressing that item during the question and answer portion of the "so you're a superhero now" meeting that I currently found myself in.

  "Beast-form is the most dangerous form we can take, and so it requires the most control. Last night, it may have looked like I was raging, completely lost to the instincts of my animal. But I was in total control the entire time. A person with control issues would not have been able to stop chasing the blood mage until they caught up with it and either killed it or were killed."

  "Wow," was all I could manage. My mind was racing. If Mrs. Kelly had continued after the blood mage, then I'd likely be dead. Note to self: control is very important.

  "The loss of impulse control bleeds over to our human life as well. Imagine driving in L.A. traffic without being able to check your anger. Add to that your heightened strength, speed, and other senses, and you can begin to understand why we take control issues so seriously," Mrs. Kelly finished.

  "That's why we have places like this room. It may seem a bit dramatic. The silver, the magic wards, but all of these things are here to protect the person who needs help. And this weekend they're here to help you." Mr. Kelly reached out his hand and rested it on my knee. I felt Elyse tense up next to me. Mr. Kelly was looking into my eyes. Mrs. Kelly was sitting in her chair, but I could tell she was poised to move, her muscles coiled. I sat very still. I wasn't sure what was happening, but they all seemed to expect something.

  "Huh?" Mr. Kelly grunted and pulled his hand back. He sat back in his chair and appeared deep in thought. Mrs. Kelly relaxed a little and Elyse eased up on my hand.

  I glanced around and asked, "What happened?"

  "Nothing," answered Mr. Kelly.

  "And is that good or bad?" I tried to read their collective expressions with my new found ability to read body language and facial cues, but all I was getting was confusion.

  "It's not normal," offered Elyse. "You should have reacted to the touch."

  "Reacted how?"

  "Angry, threatened. Think of it in terms of two strange dogs meeting for the first time. If both dogs are dominant, there's going to be a problem until they work out an understanding," Mrs. Kelly explained. "You got nothing, Richard?"

  "Yeah, Orson doing his best to sit still, that was it. Did either of you sense anything?" Mr. Kelly asked Elyse and her mom.

  They both shook their heads. Great. I was doing something wrong. Way to go, Reid. You can't even pull off a cool origin story, superhero meeting thingy without screwing it up.

  "Katie, you're sure he reacted last night with the blood mage?" Mr. Kelly asked, rubbing his chin.

  "He lit up like a Christmas tree," she answered, and then turned and explained, "I'm speaking about your aura, dear. Last night, when the blood mage attacked, your aura was glowing a deep red. That's a clear sign of rage. It's amazing that you didn't shift right then."

  I had glowed? I thought about Mrs. Giles and how she had glowed when I caught her out of my peripheral vision. I'd seen her aura. Wild.

  "How are you feeling, Orson? Are you anxious at all, maybe a bit afraid of this weird new world that's landed in your lap?" Mr. Kelly asked.

  "Um. Not really. I'm just worried that I'm a screw up because it's not working like it's supposed to," I answered.

  "So, you're not worried about sitting in what can be described as a magic dungeon with three shape-shifters? You're only worried th
at you're going disappoint us?" Mr. Kelly asked, his eyes dancing with amusement.

  "I told you guys," Elyse spoke up. "He's a total dork."

  That set all three of them laughing. I shook my head and gave Elyse some side stink eye, holding back my own laughter, trying to pretend I was a serious dude whose pride had been injured beyond repair. This only made everyone laugh harder. I couldn't help myself; I started to chuckle. I raised Elyse's hand to my lips and gave it a kiss. That's when I started to convulse and the laughing stopped.

  CHAPTER 11

  Calling the mild shiver that ran through my body a convulsion was a little melodramatic - at first. The mild shiver, however, turned quickly into a violent shake. My hand clamped down on Elyse's hand, and I worried I would hurt her, forgetting momentarily that she had super strength. She squeezed my hand right back, pulling me closer so she could get her other arm around my shoulder to keep me from shaking right off the couch.

  Mr. and Mrs. Kelly moved faster almost than I could follow. Both of them stood and kicked their chairs across the room out of the way.

  "Katie, get the door," Mr. Kelly shouted.

  In a blink, Mrs. Kelly positioned herself at the door of the cell, holding it open with what appeared to be large, leather potholders. Protection from the silver embedded in the bars was my guess.

  "Elyse, you have to move aside," Mr. Kelly said, his concern for his daughter accenting his words. "It will be okay, but we need to get him in the cell. Orson, can you let go of Elyse's hand?"

  I glanced down at our hands. The veins were popping out from the strain and pressure, our fingers turning a crazy shade of purple. If we had been normal people, the bones in both our hands would have been crushed into dust. I tried to concentrate on my hand. My vision was swimming in and out of focus, and my head felt like it would explode. The pressure building up behind my eyes was insane.

  "You can do it," Elyse encouraged me.

  Somehow, I willed my fingers to open just enough so that Elyse could slip her hand out. The moment she was clear, Mr. Kelly grabbed me by both ankles, spinning me off the couch in the classic helicopter move all dads everywhere had perfected. Of course, those dads were spinning a tiny kid, and those kids weren't in the middle of seizure overload. As my head whipped around toward the open cell door, he let go and centrifugal force took over. His shot was straight and true. My body glided, about a foot off the ground, through the door. I skidded to a stop on the concrete floor before hitting the bars on the far wall, a credit to Mr. Kelly's expert throw. The cell door slammed shut behind me. My body wasn't done seizing. I'm not sure how I avoided seriously injuring myself.