by Robert Ross
“Yeah, you look it,” She said with a giggle and then Kellan saw an impish expression cross her face. “I can’t believe you haven’t read that comic.”
His eyes widened. “What? You’ve read it and you didn’t tell me about it. How the hell did this Rumpkin jackass find out about me?”
“Someone talked?” offered Juliet.
“Well no shit, Sherlock. Someone talked. And you are supposed to be the smart Herrick. I cannot believe this! And you have no idea who it was that blabbed. I mean not that many people know.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t know.”
“Huh? Wait, but you said—“
“I said, ‘someone.’ You just assumed I didn’t know who the someone was. Why would I disclose such valuable information for free?”
Kellan squinted at her. “Free?”
“Remember, I’m the smart Herrick.”
Kellan’s voice took on the flat tone that Juliet knew meant he was both pissed and resigned in equal measure. “What do you want?”
She smiled, held up two fingers and pointed to a fruit bowl that rested on the counter of the small kitchenette.
“You want a bowl of fruit?”
She pointed again.
“You want an apple? Two apples?”
She shook her head and pointed.
“Jesus, Juliet, do we have to play this game?”
A nod.
“Damnit to hell. You want two oranges?”
Headshake. Point.
“You want two—“ Kellan paused and stared from the bowl and back to the young woman. “No way.”
She smiled and Kellan sagged onto the barstool while reaching into the fruit bowl. He tossed her the banana which she deftly caught and raised to her cheek with a grin as she saw Kellan take the second one for himself. “Now we have bananas to take to the Doctor Who ball.”
“You are an evil genius, Ms. Herrick. How long were you planning this?”
The young woman affected a seated curtsey. “Why thank you good sir. As for how long, I saw those cosplayers in the Urban Fantasy panel earlier today. I couldn’t believe you didn’t notice them, but you are mostly oblivious so I guess it makes sense. Anyway, I almost pointed them out when I thought up this little plan. Just had to find the right time and place, then whammo!”
“I hate you,” Kellan said with a sigh.
“No you don’t. You love me and you wish you were as smart as me, but seeing as how we are now in complete agreement about which ball we’ll be attending tonight, I am perfectly happy to answer all your questions.”
“Whatever. I’m just happy that you put those guys up to it and that there isn’t some dumb comic out there about me.”
Juliet broke into a hearty laugh. “Oh, there’s a genuine graphic novel out there, Kel. And, those folks were totally cosplaying you and Shannon because they read it”
Kellan closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. “You are shitting me, right?”
“No shit, sir. Girl Scouts honor.”
“You were never in the Girl Scouts.”
“Geek Scouts honor,” she corrected, holding up three fingers solemnly, then added. “You know, Geek Scouts, would be an awesome thing for kids.”
“Really? And just what would one do in the Geek Scouts? Not go outside and not camp?”
“Yes!” yelled Juliet, pointing.
“Argh,” yelled Kellan. “I swear, tell me what’s up with this book thing right now or you can find another unwilling escort, missy.”
“Oh stop. You love Doctor Who and are going to love the ball. Anyway, Meghan did it.”
“Fucking Meghan,” yelled Kellan.
“I have a feeling,” snickered Juliet, “that happened after she told her boyfriend about you; they were dating at the time. It was pretty serious. You knew that didn’t you?”
Kellan cringed. “That’s not what I meant and why on earth would you have any insights into Meghan’s sex life. No, don’t answer that and no I didn’t know she was dating someone. Sheesh, and your folks were worried about you being corrupted at Dragon Con. They should be worried when Megan Daugherty takes you to dinner.”
Kellan got up and pulled a beer from the mini fridge and frowned, “Bloody thing is barely cold. $300 a night and is it too much to ask for a cold fridge.” Juliet watched as Kellan’s eyes burst to life, glowing with their bright green fire. He held his beer in one hand staring at it as misty ice began to condense along the glass. His eyes returned to normal and he took a long drink from the bottle. “Ahhh, that’s what I’m talking about.”
He looked back at Juliet, “What’s with the disapproving mother face?”
“Oh nothing, I’m sure your sliver of godliness and insights into creation were granted so you could chill beer to optimal temperatures.” She paused, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “You know, I think men are, collectively, just too stupid to have powers. Raphael should have picked a woman Sentinel.”
“Whatever, so Meghan was dating this Rumpkin guy?”
“Hmm, oh no. Kyle. She has a thing for K-named guys apparently. Kyle Reese”
“Kyle Reese? Like the dude from Terminator?”
“Well, yeah, but I doubt it’s really the character from Terminator come to life, Kel.”
“Who the hell knows now. Remember what Micah told me about works of fiction being distorted reflections of alternate realities?”
“Yes, I remember but still don’t understand it. Anyway, this Kyle Reese raced motorcycles and didn’t fight intelligent machines from the future.”
“Raced motorcycles?”
Juliet nodded.
“Of course he did and I’m sure that relationship went swimmingly.”
Juliet rolled her eyes and continued. “Anyho…Meghan will have to give you all the details because I didn’t want to press her. Apparently she slipped up somehow and part of your story came out then she decided to try and cover it up by telling Kyle that it was part of a dream she’d just had. Kyle knows the Richard Rumpkin guy, who is an graphic novelist, tells him Meghan’s—your—story and bing-bang-boom, you’re in a book. Congrats Kel.”
“Thanks. Just what I wanted, to be written about by some unknown author who gives my story away on ComicFire.”
“Yeah, but Rumpkin is a great artist and could make you look pretty dashing. Try focusing on that.”
Kellan took another long drink from his beer and pointed the bottle at Juliet, “That’s a very good point. I wonder how cool I looked?”
“Well, other than your hair, you really didn’t look like you. He gave you brown eyes and made you taller. Basically, graphic novel you is much better than real you.”
“Wonderful. Well that’s not—wait, what? You’ve seen this thing? When you were talking to those cosplayers, you acted all excited like you just found out.”
“I was in character, Kel”
Kellan took a deep breath. “So, you read this graphic novel but didn’t tell me?”
“I thought it would upset you and make you mad at Meghan.”
“Right on both flipping counts, Juliet. Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”
“Meghan broke up with the guy over it. She was really pissed. I think she may have pulled a gun on him.”
Kellan waved a hand dismissively, “Big deal. That’s practically how Meghan orders fast food and certainly how she expresses displeasure with referee calls at sporting events.”
Juliet snorted, “Ha, that’s true, but I think she really liked this one and felt betrayed. She’s also totally freaked out what you are going to do when you find out. You mean a lot to her Kel and you know how she is about loyalty.”
Kellan sighed, “I know, and truth be told, it is actually kinda cool.”
Juliet brightened, “It is absolutely cool! You are a published super hero. We should go see the author at his signing.”
“He’s here?”
“Yeah he’s part of the urban fantasy track this year. Just a fan run panel, nothing fancy.”
> “Nah, I don’t want to see him. He needs to figure some way of getting content for his next book without any help from me. How much did he get right?”
“Not much, really. He’s got the whole Sentinel thing with the abilities mostly right. Shannon is Scottish but not from the past. No Micah or Meghan. I’m in there, but as a two dimensional plot device rather than critical to your very life, which I am. Oh, and he got the snuffing of Asmodeus right. That’s about it.”
Kellan just shook his head and grumbled, “Well, I suppose it could be worse and what kind of bullshit pen name is Richard Rumpkin? It’s clearly too alliterative to be real.”
“Richard W. Rumpkin actually”
“W, huh. What’s that stand for”
“No idea, boss, but let’s pretend it stands for, when are we heading down to the Doctor Who Ball? I’ve got my banana and brought my Rose outfit so will be ready in a tick. I also brought a Doctor 12 outfit for you.”
“Doctor 12? What? Why? I wasn’t ever going to the—” Kellan paused as he watched the knowing smile spread across Juliet’s face and simply shook his head in resignation.
“I picked Doctor 12 because he has very severe eyes coupled with a grouchy personality and I knew you’d be displaying both at some point this weekend.”
With that, Juliet unfolded her legs from the chair, stood, and bounced once on the balls of her feet. “Now shoo, go get ready, I don’t want to miss anything.”
Kellan slowly got up from the stool, still shaking his head as he heard the door to her room click shut.
Chapter 3
The Herricks
Kellan swung his Impala into the Herrick’s driveway and slid to a jarring stop with a slight screech of tires that he knew would announce his arrival better than any doorbell. He sat silently for a moment, took a deep breath, and reached over to pick up the large manilla folder that rested on the passenger seat.
“Time to change your life again, Kellan,” he said as he glanced in the rearview mirror.
The door creaked and groaned slightly as he exited the car. He glanced up taking in the small home. On the outside, it seemed fairly ordinary, a house that real estate pros referred to as “5-4 and a door,” referring to the five windows up, and two pairs of windows down, separated by a door. Kellan knew better as this house held all manner of tiny changes that all added up to turn a sterile dwelling into the cottagesqe home of Juliet and her family. He gave the car door a solid hip-butt and it swung closed with a satisfying cerklunk then turned to the flagstone path that led to the front door. It stood open with warm yellow light spilling out, silhouetting the figure standing there.
Rachel Herrick regarded him with an inscrutable half-smile and Kellan paused, unsure if he was in trouble—again. Then he saw her eyes narrow slightly as his mind raced to discover what mischief he had recently brought to the Herricks in general or Juliet specifically.
“Hey, Rach!” he began putting on the most genuine smile he could manufacture, “What’s up?”
He saw the eyes narrow further and his stomach sank. Oh shit, what did I do this time? Kellan thought as he, again, walked toward the door, stopping right before her in the threshold.
Rachel Herrick was a beautiful woman in her own right. She was slender with chestnut hair that tumbled down carelessly to just touch her shoulders. Kellan knew she had just turned 50, but easily looked ten years younger. Her eyes, a mossy brown were alight with their own mischief as she leaned against the door frame, blocking his entrance. She wore what he had described many times as Rachel’s uniform, a graphic tee, jeans, and Bass Weejuns.
Kellan looked up at her from the stoop, “Yesss,” he said with a sigh. “What did I do this time?”
“You know very well,” she responded.
Kellan’s mind clicked through thousands of possibilities, discounting each one in turn as either being trivial or impossible for her to know about. Finally, he narrowed his own eyes, locking with hers. “You got nothing. Because,” he paused for effect, “I’ve done nothing.”
Rachel sighed, turning to allow him entry. “Well, you are half right. I don’t know what you’ve done this time or what you have up your sleeve, but I also know you have done something, or you are about to. What’s in the folder?”
“Something for Juliet, not you,” he said with a smirk. She’s a grown woman and doesn’t need to show you it if she doesn’t want to.
“Then why bring it here? Why not just give it to her at your store? You clearly wanted us to be part of this, whatever it is.”
Insufferable woman thought Kellan as he walked into the foyer. How does she know these things; she’s probably a witch. That actually would explain a lot—
“Ow,” exclaimed Kellan after Rachel flicked his ear. “Why’d you do that?”
“You were spacing out again—that thing you do when you chatter with yourself in your head. Do you not think I notice it?”
“I do not, ‘space out,’ Rachel. I was just—“
“Yeah you were,” came a voice from Kellan’s left where Rachel’s husband, Thomas, had emerged from the little office located off the foyer to stand in its doorway regarding them both.
“Et tu, Thomas?” said Kellan with a defeated sigh.
“Hey, dude, I call ‘em as I see ‘em. She’s got your number and you’d do well to just accept it. I’ve had over twenty years to learn this important lesson, accept my hard won knowledge with grace and humility, mah Brotha.”
Kellan snorted, “I bow to your wisdom and advanced age, Mr. Herrick.”
Rachel laughed as she closed the door and headed into the house, “Now you managed to piss off both of us. Well done, Kel. You truly have a gift.”
“What? What did I do to piss of either of you?”
She grinned at him. “I try to stay perpetually pissed at you. It saves me time,”
Rachel disappeared into the kitchen and Kellan turned to Thomas who was slowly shaking his head. “You really are the most stupid genius I’ve ever met.”
“Holy shit, you both are nuts. You know that. I haven’t even done anything yet.”
Thomas smiled and it lit up his face. It was what Rachel called his “evil” smile, infectious and filled with guile. Kellan found himself grinning like an idiot. “What?”
Thomas held up one finger. “Advanced age.” He uncurled a second finger, “Mr. Herrick.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” said Thomas with a low chuckle.
Thomas Herrick was the yin to Rachel’s yang. Where she was fiery, impulsive, extroversion, he was cool, deliberative, introversion. He was the saucer that cooled the cup of her passions and Rachel’s personality served as a contrasting mirror to his own, in many ways, just as her eyes contrasted with the blue of his. Thomas’ easy going manner hid a keen intellect and biting wit that Kellan knew he didn’t want working against him, especially this night so he raised his hands in submission. “Ok, so advanced age might be a bit much and the Mr. Herrick was completely uncalled for.”
Thomas laughed, “Indeed, especially when we don’t even let the kids’ friends call us Mr. and Mrs. Herrick.”
Thomas and Rachel were a bit of an enigma, children of the 80s, steeped in the music of the era and the politics of Reagan, but lived their lives with the egalitarian zeal of 60s flower children. Kellan loved them both fiercely and despite their outward jabs, he knew they loved him as well. There was no more evidence of their affection and trust than in how they supported his friendship with Juliet. This was certainly true for Rachel, but even more so for Thomas. Kellan knew Thomas loved all his kids, but Juliet being both the youngest sibling and only girl, held a special place in her father’s heart.
“Beer?” Thomas asked.
Kellan grinned, “Need you ask, good sir?”
“How silly of me,” Thomas replied as he headed to the kitchen with Kellan in tow. “What do you want?” he added.
“Dunno, whatcha got?”
“Beer fridge?” Thomas asked?
“Beer fridge!” Kellan agreed enthusiastically while seeing the not so subtle shake of Rachel’s head as she puttered about by the sink.
Thomas opened the back kitchen door that led into the garage and went to a large refrigerator against one wall. He opened the double doors and bright LED light spilled out, brightening the immediate area. Kellan stood next to him taking in the choices, then reached for a lone Rum Cask Innis & Gunn.
Thomas grunted and Kellan pulled back.
“What?”
“Nothing, you are just so predictable.”
“I am not.”
“Then try something different, prove me wrong.”
“Fine, I will,” said an indignant Kellan as he pulled a St. Barnabus Belgian Ale from the fridge, “See—not predictable.”
Thomas smiled as he retrieved the Innis & Gunn that Kellan had put back. “Nope, you showed me. Then again, this was my last Rum Cask, and it would have been rude of me to not let you have it. Good thing you decided it wasn’t what you really wanted.”
Kellan ground his teeth as Thomas closed the fridge and headed back toward the kitchen. “That was some psychological bullshit right there, dude. You know your daughter has picked up that trait of yours and it’s not cool. Not cool at all”
“Yeah, well, her language seems to be something she’s picked up from you so payback’s a bitch.”
“What?” said Kellan following Thomas back into the kitchen and absently slamming the door behind him, “You’re blaming me for Juliet’s salty tongue? Seriously? Have you ever met your wife? Allow me to introduce you. Thomas, this is Rachel, who, for the record, is where I got MY salty tongue.”
Rachel glance over her shoulder, “Damned straight but if you weren’t always over here during your formative years, you would’ve been spared my corrupting influence.”