Return of the Trickster

by Eden Robinson

  “Good night, Jared. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  “Maybe call next time before you show up.”

  She backed away and pushed the elevator button, her revolver pointed at his knees. The elevator paused a floor above them and they could hear something heavy thumping around.

  “It’s a busy elevator,” Jared said. “You might want to take the stairs.”

  “How has no one killed you yet? Fuck, you’re aggravating.”

  She felt along the wall for the stairwell door handle and then slipped through. He whipped out his cellphone.

  Mallory just left Mave’s apartment building, Jared texted Neeka.

  He was expecting Neeka to text back immediately, to dramatically screech to a halt in front of their building, to call maybe, but he remained alone in the hallway. The apartment door was locked and he had to knock. Mave answered, annoyed, asking how come he’d locked himself out.

  Jared shrugged. As he closed the door, Dead Aiden stood in the hallway and mimed slitting his own throat.

  “I can’t wait for you to die,” Dead Aiden said. “When you get to this side, we’re going to have so much fun.”

  23

  LOVE, AND BE SILENT

  Constantly being threatened and terrified had the benefit of distracting him, but, in the quiet, the things he’d been avoiding slithered out. Shadows in the wall. He moved out to the living room, took the pistol case down from the bookshelf where Mave had put it and sat in the recliner.

  It wouldn’t actually hurt to take the edge off. It might calm him down enough to get some sleep. He was sweating a small lake. Pistol case open. Gun loaded. Safety on. The shakes, shaky, for goodness’ sake. I’ve got the hippy hippy. Random thoughts. Maybe Neeka hadn’t got his text. Maybe Wee’git hadn’t texted his mom. Maybe he couldn’t find the text on his phone because it wasn’t actually there, not because he was mentally blocked. Maybe Wee’git was secretly partners with Georgina/Jwasins. After all, she was his real sister, unlike Mave.

  He hadn’t done the work since he’d come back. Hadn’t voluntarily hit a meeting, only been dragged there by Kota. Hadn’t worked the steps. Wasn’t sticking with the winners.

  Booze-free apartment. He’d have to leave to find relief.

  Ding.

  Busy, his mom texted him. Stay put ffs.

  The world hadn’t ended when he’d had a few drinks with his mom. His life was still insane whether he was drinking or not. A couple of beers would make it bearable, dealable. A little bubbler, blazing away some calming kush in the darkness.

  Having a rough night, Jared texted Kota.

  At work, Kota texted back.

  God, he hated the needy part of himself. Tearing up like the giant baby his mother thought he was. Emotions aren’t facts. Emotions are signals. Emotions shouldn’t steer the boat. Emotions made bad captains. He’d been in this kind of shape before and he’d made it through. He hadn’t even had this much support, a place to stay, regular meals, concerned people.

  That he was making a target.

  The gun grip was warm in his hands now. Body temperature. If he didn’t exist, Georgina would have no ride back to this world. His mom could deal with coy wolves. They were not deep thinkers. Things they had in common.

  Can I call? Kota texted.

  Yes, Jared texted back.

  Jared answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Kota said.

  Jared found he was crying again. Keeping it quiet, at least. Non-verbal with exhaustion. Kota said nothing, but he was there, breathing, the sound of machinery in the aluminum boat repair shop in the background, and then Jared heard someone tell Kota the boss was coming, and he said, “I’ll call you back at my break. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Jared said.

  Sorry if I got you in trouble, Jared texted.

  It’s a shit job, Kota said. Don’t sweat it.

  * * *

  —

  Someone tried to take his gun and he hung on, pointing it before he was fully awake. Mave raised her hands.

  “Morning, Dirty Harry,” Mave said. “That’s a dangerous place to store your firearm, dontcha think?”

  “Sorry,” he said, realizing he’d dozed off in the recliner holding the Glock like a baby. “Sorry.”

  “Want some coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  “It’ll cost you one Glock,” she said.

  He checked that the safety was still on and then handed it to her, grip first. She ejected the magazine and calmly put the gun back in its case and then returned it to the top of one of her bookcases. He went to brush his teeth. Having temporarily lost the will to live last night, he had neglected his dental care. He had a bad case of jungle mouth. He looked at himself in the mirror as he brushed. Shouldn’t being a Trickster make you immune to gum disease? Inquiring minds want to know.

  The teakettle boiled, whistling. Wake up and smell the coffee. Two hours of sleep really made a difference in how he saw the world.

  “Do you want toast?” Mave said.

  “Sure.”

  “Are you going to eat it or hide it in the garbage?”

  Jared looked heavenward, a silent prayer to be delivered from observant aunts. “Sorry.”

  “I’m not angry,” she said. “Just worried. Alder tea isn’t enough to sustain a growing boy.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m putting extra sugar in your coffee. Drink it.”

  He sat at the kitchen table. Mave pushed the coffee and toast at him, went back into the kitchen and came back with jam. I like my toast as dry as my martinis. Ha ha. All the jokes in all the world couldn’t put humpty dumpty back together again.

  Mave sat across from him, watching him as she sipped her coffee.

  Fairness, honesty. What did the words mean? Keep your trap shut, he told himself. She doesn’t believe in Tricksters and you can’t prove anything.

  “They’ll catch David,” she said.

  Would she only believe him once she was a ghost shuffling off this mortal coil?

  “Last night,” Jared said. “I wasn’t here for an hour. You thought it was me, but it was a Trickster named Wee’git, who you knew as Wade.”

  Mave put her coffee mug down. “That’s not funny, Jared. Don’t bring my missing brother into this.”

  “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

  “You don’t sleep. You aren’t eating. Your behaviour is starting to scare me.”

  “I know,” Jared said.

  “I think we should call your mother,” Mave said.

  “Okay.”

  “Stay here. Don’t run,” she said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She got up slowly, leaving her coffee mug on the table. She closed her bedroom door behind her. A few minutes later he could hear her talking on the phone. One of the room dividers wobbled, and then Sarah pushed it open and came and sat where Mave had been.

  “We’re just supposed to be eyes and ears,” she said.

  “Wee’git was here last night in my shape.”

  “I heard you. And your mom has texted me about forty times since she found out about the ogress and her hex.”

  “I physically couldn’t tell anyone. I still can’t. Even. Think about her. Wee’git said he’d text Mom for me if I’d let him check out the apartment posing as me.”

  “Damn.”

  “Mom hasn’t been texting me. Just once to say she was busy.”

  “She doesn’t want you to do anything stupid.”

  “Too late.”

  Sarah sighed and looked longingly around the apartment. “It was nice while it lasted.”

  “Mave won’t kick you out.”

  “Where you go, I go,” she said. She held up her pinky.

  “Where you go, I go,” he said
, joining her pinky with his.

  * * *

  —

  He considered not telling Neeka. He considered giving her a bogus version of events. It wasn’t as if he’d never lied before in his life. But if Neeka was risking her life and the lives of her family, she deserved the truth. She hadn’t reacted to the news of Mallory showing up, so maybe she was neck-deep in trouble.

  Can we talk? Jared texted her. If you aren’t busy?

  The ultimate test of courage, of course, was telling his mother that it was Wee’git who had texted. He had no desire to do that face to face. He fiddled with his phone for a bit, then told himself it would be okay.

  Hey, Mom. I did a shitty thing. I couldn’t tell you myself about the things that got texted to you last night, so Wee’git said he would tell you if I let him check out Mave’s apartment for an hour in my skin.

  He stared at his text for a long time before he hit Send.

  You are some fucking piece of work, she texted back immediately.

  The more he tried to not be like Wee’git, he thought, the more asshole-y he acted.

  Is he still around? his mom texted.

  No. He thinks I should go stay with his friend, Chuck.

  What a prince. Can you stop fucking around? We’re in deep shit here.

  There’s more but I can’t think about it or I go all blank.

  Goddamnit.

  He saw that she was typing something, and it looked as if it was going to be a long message because it blinked and blinked.

  But all it said when it landed was, Don’t let her kick you out. Eyes, Shithead. You are eyes.

  * * *

  —

  Kota dropped in and took him to a meeting, asking if he wanted to talk beforehand. Jared shook his head but thanked Kota for being his shoulder.

  “Did you get in trouble at work?” Jared said.

  “I’m so overqualified for what they’re paying me,” Kota said. “They’re lucky I need the money. Welding’s been good to me. Maybe we can get you in some courses.”

  “Maybe later,” Jared said. “When I’ve got a couple of sober months under my belt.”

  “You sound better today.”

  Jared shrugged.

  He caught Kota studying him through the meeting. When they got back, Neeka was sitting with Mave in the living room. They both stopped talking as he walked in.

  “Excuse us,” Neeka said to Mave.

  Jared followed her into his bedroom. She closed the door.

  “Wee’git—”

  “Was here in your shape, yes. Maggie texted me, and Mave too, but Mave thinks you’ve cracked under the strain,” Neeka interrupted. “It’s all good, Jared. When we’re done with the ogress, we’ll deal with him. Right now, tell me about Mallory.”

  “Oh,” Jared said. “Right. She caught me in the hallway and wanted me to go with her.”

  “You need to tell me all the details,” Neeka said, gritting her teeth. “Leave nothing out.”

  “She had a gun—”

  “Mave!” Neeka shouted, then cuffed the side of his head. “Idiot!”

  “It was a lame gun! A cheap revolver!”

  “Oh, sweet fucking Creator, you are maddening.”

  Mave opened the door, hesitantly. Kota and Sarah peeked around her.

  “Did Jared tell you my sister pulled a gun on him in the hallway last night?” Neeka said.

  “No,” Mave said. “He did not.”

  Neeka took out her cellphone. She tapped away and then showed him a mug shot of Mallory.

  “That’s her,” Jared said.

  Neeka turned to Mave, holding up the picture. “Mallory Donner. My sister. Fresh out of the Fraser Valley Institute for Women. I turned her in for organizing a home invasion of our neighbour’s.”

  All of them came and looked at the phone.

  “She was the one doing the beating, but she convinced people it was her boyfriend who made her do it,” Neeka said. She’s done worse, but her juvie records are sealed. You’re not her normal choice of victim. She likes kids. Eliza’s age. Or elders.

  “That’s the chick that came up to us at Joe’s,” Kota said. “She said she knew Jared.”

  “She was sizing him up,” Neeka said. We’ve banished her. All our warnings should’ve gone off. She tortured our elders to learn their secrets. She tortured our children to steal their power.

  “But why would she be after Jared?” Mave said.

  “She’s looking for a way to get to us,” Neeka said. “Jared’s a trusting, easy mark. We need to warn your neighbours not to let her in their apartments, Mave. She can be very convincing. Especially with the elders and parents with little children. I’ll call the detectives who arrested her the last time. They’ll want to know our little charmer is back to her old tricks.”

  I’m going to rip her apart, Neeka thought.

  “Send the picture to me,” Mave said. “I’ll go door to door.”

  “Take Kota with you,” Neeka said. “I need to go talk to my family. I don’t like that she showed up here, let alone with a gun. I’ll be back soon.”

  She stormed out of the apartment.

  Then the buzzer rang. None of them moved until finally Mave went to answer it. She came back looking grim.

  “It’s my mother,” she said. “And your mom too, Kota.”

  “Fuck,” Kota said.

  “As always, Mother has impeccable timing,” Mave said.

  Jared stood, swallowing. He would almost rather get kidnapped by Mallory than be here when Anita Moody discovered he was a Trickster. He followed them all out to the living room, Sarah holding his hand.

  When someone knocked on the door, Mave went to answer it.

  “Hello, Mother,” she said.

  “Mavis-Anne.” Granny Nita wheeled her walker in, her snow-white curls bursting out from under her hat. She was smaller than Jared remembered, a tiny thing, but her large, dark eyes scanned the room, landed on him and stuck.

  A woman trailed behind her, carrying two white buckets that were obviously heavy. She was Kota’s height. Or Kota was her height. She had her long hair clipped back from her face and wore an oversized blue Helly Hansen rain jacket, her black slacks too long for her legs, hiding her shoes. She saw Kota and stopped. Kota glared at her.

  “Ah, the gay boy,” Granny Nita said, noticing Kota. “Clarisse, if this is awkward, why don’t you go keep Agnetha company. My faithless daughter will drive me back to the hotel when I’m done here.”

  Clarisse dropped the buckets on the floor, turned and left without saying anything. Mave slammed the door after her.

  “Mother,” she said.

  “What? He’s gay and he’s a boy. Hello, Dakota. Come get the buckets and carry them to the kitchen. That’s brined herring eggs. The good stuff, a blessing from heaven.”

  Kota didn’t move, glaring daggers at her.

  “Did I offend you? I’m sorry,” Granny Nita said, not sounding sorry in the least.

  “Sarah,” Mave said. “This is my delightful mother, Anita Moody.”

  Granny Nita turned her attention to Sarah and Jared, her eyes flickering between them before landing on Sarah, who squeezed his hand.

  Granny Nita smiled. “Hello, witch.”

  “Mother! If you can’t behave, you can leave!”

  “Calm yourself, Mavis-Anne,” Granny Nita said. “Sarah’s made of sterner stuff than that, aren’t you, girl?”

  She wheeled over to stand in front of Jared.

  “Granny Nita,” Jared said.

  “I don’t know how I ever mistook you for Wee’git,” she said in a whisper. “I’m sorry, Jared. I was wrong.”

  “I’m a Trickster, though,” Jared said.

  Mave’s eyes flickered towards him then back to her mother. Kota crossed his arms.
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  I have eyes. I’m not entirely senile.

  Jared stiffened, surprised. Granny Nita had never spoken to him mind to mind. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

  “Mavis-Anne, make us coffee. Dakota, those buckets aren’t going to move themselves, or are those muscles just for show? Jared, why don’t you and Sarah come sit with me.”

  As Mave headed for the kitchen and Dakota picked up the buckets, Granny Nita paused in the middle of the living room, tilted her head, listening. “Who’s that crawling in the walls?”

  She crooked her finger and Dead Aiden suddenly appeared in front of her. He screamed at her, bugging out his eyes and shaking so hard he blurred. Her walker rattled.

  “Aiden,” she said. “Are you malingering on this earthly plane because you’re afraid to face judgment?”

  Dead Aiden stopped moving. “Get fucked, old woman.”

  “Go to God,” Granny Nita said. She flicked her hand. Dead Aiden shrieked as he collapsed into a tiny ball of light and then popped out of existence. Granny Nita claimed the recliner, sighing as she sat, resting her arms on the walker’s handles.

  Sarah took a step back.

  “Come, you two, and sit on the couch. I don’t bite,” she said, smiling at them. And then she turned and yelled, “Mavis-Anne, are you picking the coffee beans yourself?”

  “The water has to boil, you cranky old thing.”

  “You and your fancy coffee press,” Granny Nita said. “Who are you trying to impress? Get a coffee maker like everyone else.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jared,” Kota said from the kitchen doorway.

  “Did I scare you off, Dakota?” Granny Nita said.

  “I have work.”

  “Run away, little gay boy.”

  “Granny Nita,” Jared said.

  Kota stomped down the hallway and slammed the door.

  “Everyone’s so touchy these days,” Granny Nita said. “You can’t even call a spade a spade.”

  Wow, Sarah thought. “I’m going to go help Mave.”

  Granny Nita watched her leave, smiling.

  “I like Kota. He’s my friend,” Jared said.