American Quest

by Sienna Skyy

  Jamie rolled her eyes. “Not a clue. And I mean that literally.”

  Shannon and Forte bounded out of the apartment building carrying a leopard-print duffel.

  “Charlie cancelled all his gigs for the next week!” Shannon announced.

  “That’s right! Never done that before in my life!” Forte took Shannon’s hand and spun her around on the sidewalk.

  They loaded the bag into the van and then strolled the few blocks to the deli. Bruce chewed his lip. Might as well take a stroll. Might as well take all the time in the world. We don’t know where the hell we’re going next, anyway.

  He opened the jingling glass door and the four of them stepped through. The lighted display case glowed with tantalizing morsels of sweet and savory, and although the sun had barely risen, Zingerman’s Delicatessen buzzed with a long line of locals in the know.

  Shannon definitely seemed in her element. “Don’t bother sitting down. This place is about the food, you know? ’Sides, we gotta hop on the van-wagon and scale those Pillars of Humanity. You may want to split something because everything’s humongous. Charlie and I’ll get the breakfast BLT. You want the breakfast BLT, babe? That’d be a nice hearty pre-Armageddon breakfast! What do you guys like? Do you like bagels? Get the ham, egg, and cheddar, it’s insane!”

  Forte hit some chords on his air guitar and sang in a falsetto, “Ham and egg bagels with cheddar CHEE-yez, it’s in-SAY-eee-YANE!”

  Apparently, Shannon and Forte were both morning people. Bruce wished for one of those breakfast BLTs now just so he could stuff it in their gobs and shut them up. Their good humor and sense of abandon ratcheted up his sense of desperation. “I just want coffee,” he muttered.

  Shannon chortled on. “Oh, they have great coffee. But you’d better get something more substantial. We got a long road ahead and—”

  Bruce’s eyes swerved to her. “How do you know?”

  Everyone turned to regard Bruce, surprised at the edge in his voice.

  He puffed through his nose. “How do you know we have a long road ahead? Does anyone know where we’re going? Anyone?”

  Three pairs of eyes regarded him in silence.

  He lifted his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I just can’t get the image out of my mind, with Gloria and . . . I can’t stand . . . I just wish I knew for sure what I should be doing. I don’t even know why we’re standing at this deli in Ann Arbor.”

  Jamie tugged at her cropped coppery hair. “I know this is frustrating, Bruce, and I wish I’d gotten better preparation for all of this. But I’m convinced we’re on the right track. We were supposed to meet Charles and Shannon; I’m certain of it.”

  Bruce sighed.

  The trail of people behind them in line grew longer. Folks streamed in and out, sinking their teeth into steaming fragrant breakfast sandwiches or carrying paper bags stuffed with baked goods. The woman behind them waved at someone across the room, accidentally nudging Jamie as she did.

  Jamie turned back to Bruce and the others. “I think we need to keep moving, keep touching down at different places, and keep our eyes open. Things’ll keep falling into place.”

  Bruce breathed deeply, and then gave a nod. “I suppose. It just seems crazy to even get in the car if we don’t know which way to turn.”

  At that moment, the woman behind Jamie shouted, “Dayton, Ohio!”

  They all swiveled to look at her. She was still addressing someone across the room and did not even realize she had captured their attention.

  Forte furrowed his brow with wide eyes. “Um, is that meant to be our answer to where we go next?”

  “Dayton. Dayton, Ohio!” the woman repeated.

  They all looked at one another. Bruce felt the tension in his jaw muscles lift.

  Jamie grinned, and mouthed the words, Dayton, Ohio.

  “That would be a left out of the parking lot, no?” Bruce said, suddenly thinking a ham, egg, and cheddar bagel sounded good.

  NEW YORK

  A suicide bless’d. A welcome rest.

  Rafe’s centuries-old pact with Enervata had forfeited their souls and stripped them of humanity, changing their bodies forever. The time had come for that to end.

  Isolde had watched over Bruce and his companions in Michigan. Though she strove to suppress all signs, they still filtered through like water droplets in a sugar bowl. Forming patterns without introducing any new elements, just assuming their natural shape in things that already existed. How could she block such forces?

  It was fortunate that Rafe had been called away for a new development concerning Kolt. Having failed alone in this task, she need only assume responsibility for herself. She would tell Enervata of the incident in Ann Arbor. Rafe had not been present, so his cursed blood need not spill. She would tell Enervata that she had failed in her task and she would look upon her capital punishment as welcome succor.

  Ever since Rafe spoke of an end to this damnable existence, what relief may come in a simple death that should have occurred centuries ago, Isolde had longed for that relief. Of course, Rafe immediately rescinded the notion. Planted the seed in Isolde’s psyche and then backpedaled. Cowered. Coward!

  Rafe probably delighted over Kolt’s emergence. Enervata’s focus would be diverted. As of yet, Rafe and Isolde had not even reported the addition of Charles Forte and Shannon Power to Bruce’s company. Ridiculous! Were Enervata to learn that Rafe and Isolde had not only failed in their tasks but also failed to report it, his rage would transcend simple murder. Enervata had ways to make a body long for death. And diversion or none, Isolde and Rafe both knew that time slipped ever closer to the hour when Enervata would find out.

  Let it be now.

  Her pantry lay barren of Enervata’s meager rations of repose. Holding reign over the wild-lands now seemed as empty a promise as any he’d ever offered. And now she even lost the comfort of her community. Transformed as she was, her own canteshrikes shunned her, and she could not even so much as hunt pixieflies.

  Isolde saw Rafe’s assignment to the Kolt development as a gift. Her quick death; no bloodstained hands, blood of her hated former lover.

  A gift of freedom from her hated former lover.

  Finally, after so long, to tear away.

  She entered the penthouse flat.

  Enervata greeted her with the warmest, most uncharacteristic smile. “Ah, Isolde the Fair.”

  17

  OHIO

  THEY’D BEEN DRIVING FOR HOURS. Shannon and Forte had been talking nonstop since they left Ann Arbor, but a few miles back even they’d slowed down. Bruce figured it was time for a break. While his emotions told him to move constantly until he found a way to defeat Enervata, his instincts told him that all of the questers needed to stay fresh. He took the next exit and started down the off-ramp.

  Jamie, who’d seemed absorbed in her thoughts as she looked out the window, suddenly sat up straight, grabbed his elbow, and shouted, “Bruce, slow down!”

  “What? It’s not like I’m going that fast.”

  But even as he spoke, the van slowed—not because he’d hit the brakes, but as though someone else controlled the pedals. The van followed the sharp curve of the exit ramp and Bruce saw a petroleum tanker sitting in the middle of the lane.

  Everyone cried out.

  Bruce swerved and avoided the truck. As he passed it, though, he could see someone inside the cab, looking out with a dark, distant expression. Bruce felt a chill as he watched the man, something more intense than the icy rush that came with a close, dangerous encounter.

  Something deeper. And more insidious.

  Hidey hidey hidey ho!

  His grimace clenched in place, he sat in the cab of the petroleum fuel truck. That decent tool fuck. Yes yes yes. Yes yes yes. The fat little leprechaun told him so.

  His eyes swam toward ye olde rearview mirror. And just as told by that pot of freakin’ gold, he saw that van come nearer.

  Halllloooooooo! Halloo, van!

  It swerved. Careened. And h
e had to snicker.

  Here he sat in the cab, loose in his ways. Waiting outside the Tollie-Do town. Somewhere in Ohio. O!

  Hidey hidey hidey ho!

  It careened! Ravined . . . retrieved.

  Van moved on.

  Ho.

  Screechy careenie. In that rearview mirror, another came nearer. Who cares? Not the van.

  This one was some other.

  A 4x4.

  His grimace clenched in place. He let it firm his face.

  The one in the 4x4 got out and walked toward him with no sway and no shimmy. He said to him, “Hey, buddy, you okay?” and, “You need a lift?” and, “Can I make a phone call for ya there, buddy? Dangerous, your petroleum tanker sitting at that curve of an off-ramp!”

  The grimace clenched in place, he replied, “Hoodie hoo de hooo!” “Fuckin’ moron. I’m calling the cops.”

  And the 4x4 one left. Van was loooooooooonng gone, anyhows.

  Grimace clenched in place, he picked up the CB and pressed the little button.

  “That’s a ten-four, Hedon!” And then a snicker. And then, “Hidey hidey hidey hi!”

  And then bye-de-bye-de-bye.

  He leaned his head on the steering column. Let his eyes blinky goodnight. Let the world sail out of sight. Let the lungs stop. Lungs stop. Lungs stop their pumpin’ delight.

  That leprechaun goin’ nighty-bye. Tattle-tell it, Hedon! Hidey hi during! Bye-de-bye-de-bye. Hedon.

  Grimace.

  Clenched.

  In place.

  The van angled around the tanker and continued down the exit ramp.

  Bruce stole a glance at Jamie. “How did you know to slow down as we came off the exit ramp? One of those tinkles you told me about?”

  Her face white, Jamie nodded.

  “Good save, man! I thought we were gonna hit that truck for sure,” Forte said, letting out his breath.

  Shannon laughed nervously. “Lucky I wasn’t driving, cuz we would have. I’d’ve come barreling down that off-ramp and plowed right into’m. We’d be Quester Crisps.”

  “You do drive fast, babe.” Forte patted her knee.

  She grinned. “One time? My mama? She asked me to take one of her friends to her weekly bridge game. Thought it kind of weird cuz Mama could have just as easily given her a lift herself, bein’ as she’s already goin’ there. But no biggie, so I pick this woman up—I think her name was Pearl. And Pearl is just this angry, cranky old bat. And she’s spewing the entire way. Doesn’t like radio or radio people, which I am. Doesn’t like the way I’m driving. Doesn’t like this; doesn’t like that. But I think it’s cool that Mama’s lookin’ out for her friends, making sure they get a lift to her bridge game and all. But later when I talk to her, Mama says, ‘Shannie, you were great with Pearl! Your driving rattled her nerves so bad she kept her gob shut through our entire game. Can you pick her up again next week?’”

  Forte draped an arm over her. “Your mom was great. You remember before she got sick? That night when she had us over for dinner? The woman was, like, always late. We went over to Shannon’s mom’s and knock on the door and there’s, like, no one home. We’re standing out there on the porch and finally she drives up, and she’s all smiles and gets us inside, and then she starts sweeping, but she’s sweeping like it is her military mission. Still got her coat on and her purse on her shoulder, but she’s sweeping the floor like crazy.”

  “Mama hated dust.”

  “And then she brought out the good stuff, all those pictures of you when you were a tyke! She’s all, ‘Look at little Shannie in her bloomers! And here she is with a pinto bean stuck up her nose.’”

  Shannon threw her hands over her face and tilted her head back. “I know! She was so bad! Here I am, trying to charm the hot rocker boy and Mama’s gotta dig out that bean picture!”

  Jamie swiveled to look back at them and grinned. “Looks like you charmed him, anyway.”

  Shannon eyed the sign as Bruce pulled into a gas station. “What is it? Four Pillars of Humanity Quickstop? It’s about time! Last quest I was on, the driver refused to ask for directions and we were circling Mount Holy Grail for hours and didn’t even realize it.”

  Bruce snorted. “Last quest, huh?”

  “Oh, sure. Haven’t I told you guys? I’m addicted. Unquestionably a questaholic.”

  Bruce pulled over and hopped out. “Switch.”

  Jamie scooted to the driver’s seat and Bruce jogged around to the passenger’s side.

  He shut the door. “The truth is, I would have hit that gas truck back there, too. The van slowed down on its own. Jamie, I think we need your radar skills at the driver’s seat.”

  She blinked at him grimly. “Fair enough.”

  Jamie pulled the van back out, crop fields running beyond the shoulder and a smattering of housing developments in the distance.

  “What do you mean the van slowed down on its own?” Forte said.

  Bruce shook his head. “When Jamie said to slow down, I never hit the brakes or anything. I didn’t have time to react. The van just kind of eased up suddenly.”

  A loud crack tore overhead.

  Shannon gasped. “What was that? Sounded like someone just chomped us with a nutcracker!”

  Another crack.

  “I think it’s hailing,” Jamie said.

  The sound erupted all around them, and then suddenly hailstones were pelting the van like buckshot.

  Jamie leaned forward. “Oh my God! I can’t even see!”

  She slowed the van to a crawl and the hailstones thundered so loud it sounded like artillery fire. Suddenly, the windshield cracked. Jamie screamed.

  “Pull over!” Bruce cried.

  Plum-sized ice bore down upon them. Jamie eased the van to the side of the road and stopped.

  The hail stopped.

  Bruce and Jamie frowned at each other and Shannon and Forte clutched hands.

  Bruce craned his neck, opening the door to get a good look outside. “What the—?”

  There was no hail on the ground. The crack in the windshield seemed the only evidence that something had happened. Bruce shut the door.

  Shannon cleared her throat from the backseat. “Questers take note. For those of us present who thought maybe we were on a wild-goose chase, I think it’s safe to assume we are probably on the right track.”

  Bruce nodded. “It would appear that way. Try it again, Jamie.”

  She shifted the van into gear again, but as soon as the tires started moving, the clamoring hail recommenced. When Jamie stopped again, the hail stopped again.

  They sat in silence for a long moment.

  Bruce shifted. “Well we can’t just sit here all day.”

  “If I keep driving, we’re likely to get in a wreck.”

  Bruce thought about this. Jamie was right, but they had to keep going. They couldn’t stop moving forward for any reason.

  “Say that thing you were saying in the woods that night. The thing about the malevolent lip.”

  “That? It didn’t work, remember? That was just something I made up.”

  Bruce swung a thumb toward Shannon. “Well you must have made up something pretty powerful because she started saying it up onstage in front of hundreds of people.”

  Jamie’s cheeks flamed. She turned her round blue eyes toward him and he could see her reluctance.

  He touched her elbow. “Come on, Tink. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. We need to try, though.”

  Bruce reached into the glove compartment and retrieved Jamie’s little velvet sack. Handing it to her, he said, “Give it a shot.”

  They all got out of the van and walked to a patch of grass. Jamie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She spoke the words she’d recited amidst the jeering maples in the Maine forest:

  His loyalty switches

  He who bewitches

  The injurious aspect, the evil eye

  The malevolent lip, sorcerer spry

  She opened her eyes and looked nervously
toward the horizon.

  “I appeal for assistance,” she said, swinging the sack forward. “I call to the North.”

  She paused, darting her eyes, and took a breath. “To the East.” She stopped again.

  Forte gently took the sack from her hand and waved it. “To the South.”

  He handed it to Shannon, and she swung it in the final direction. “To the West.”

  Jamie nodded. “The unburdened sumpter with faith shall fly.”

  Bruce put his hand on her shoulder. “Good job. Let’s try this again.”

  They piled back into the van. Jamie turned the key and swung the gearshift. The wheels turned. A single amoeba of a cloud blackened and stretched over the sky and a light trickle fell toward them.

  The moment the rain touched the van it evaporated.

  NEW YORK

  “Master, I have news to report.”

  “What is this, Isolde? No rhyming lyric? Have the canteshrikes shunned you to the extent you now shed their ways?”

  His words affected amusement, but Isolde heard the menace beneath them. Smelled the smolder of his fury. Good. Let him act with haste.

  “I have failed thee.”

  Enervata breathed in very slowly and turned from her without exhaling. Isolde’s eyes traveled to Sileny and then to Hedon and his gaping nostrils. Strangely, at this moment he neither gorged himself nor clutched a pint jar of honey wine. In fact, he even stood on his two feet instead of wallowing on the couch. Perhaps losing his brother had changed him.

  Neither Hedon nor Sileny met her gaze.

  Rafe was not here. Isolde felt a strange sharpness in her heart. As much as she hated Rafe, she had hoped he would be nigh in the moment of her death.

  She addressed Enervata’s back. “The quest is underway. Signs have filtered through and the male, Bruce, has already acquired two of those he seeks, in addition to the guardian. They journey now to Dayton, Ohio.”

  Enervata’s back remained to her. His only reaction was the bristling of the black hair that tufted his tail.