by Jon Skovron
“I know, Claire. And I know how much you hate giving up the control. But if it weren’t for her, we would never have met. Please, I just want to say good-bye.”
She stared him down for a moment. “Fine. I guess it’s only fair.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Then she opened her eyes again. “I’m not dressed for this.”
“I took the liberty of packing a set of clothes for her.” He pointed to a duffel bag on a nearby crate.
“You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this, haven’t you?” she said. “Oh, Dampfmensch, you really are a right bastard sometimes.”
His rectangular mouth opened slightly and his eyebrows raised. And even though the corners of his mouth couldn’t move, it was still somehow clear that he was grinning.
Claire closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. When she let it out, she started shaking, then convulsing. It looked painful. She dropped to her knees and started a low groan. Her hair grew long and curly and changed to a light brown. Her skin got paler, and little freckles appeared on her nose and cheeks. Then her entire facial structure shifted from strong and chiseled to soft and heart shaped. Her clothes started to get noticeably baggy because she was shrinking. Then her groan slowly rose in pitch. But as it rose, the tone also changed to something fuller, richer until I realized that she was laughing now.
Suddenly, she jumped to her feet. In a voice about a half octave higher than Claire’s, she sang out, “Ta-da!”
She stretched out her arms wide and beamed at us. Then her jeans, which were way too big for her, fell down around her ankles. It took her a second to realize it, then she bent down and snatched them up.
“Bugger!” she said. “’Scuse me while I change, lads.” She shuffled over and grabbed the duffel bag, then darted behind the crate.
“And that,” said Adam, “is Sophie Jekyll, making her usual dramatic entrance.”
“Lies, Adam!” she called from behind the crate. “Usually, I don’t flash people on my entrance.”
“No,” he agreed. “But I liked it. Adds a touch of the risqué, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” she called. “If I had been wearing some cute panties, not these grandma knickers that Claire loves so much.” A pair of plain white panties came sailing up over the crate to land on the floor in front of us.
“This just got real interesting, kid,” said Mozart, and gave me a nudge.
“I hope you like the outfit I selected for you,” Adam said. “Teen fashions are in such a constant state of flux, I’m afraid I never can keep up.”
“Are you joking?” Sophie stepped out from behind the crate wearing a pair of skinny jeans, leather boots, and a tight sweater. “Adam, you’re the only person I trust to dress me.” She sighed and went over to him. She reached out her hands and cupped his wooden face. “What am I going to do without you? Claire is heartbroken, you know.”
“I know,” said Adam. “I told her I was sorry.”
Sophie shrugged, picking a piece of lint off his tweed jacket. “She’ll get over it. And while she’s pouting, it’ll give me a little more time on the outside.”
Adam raised a single eyebrow. “Don’t get greedy, Sophie. You two have been…sharing so well lately.”
“I know, I know,” said Sophie, rolling her eyes. “I’ll let her out when it’s her turn, don’t worry.”
“Promise,” he said, his voice stern.
“Yes, okay, fine! Now, what’s this about you ending it all?”
“Please…don’t make me go through this…whole thing again, Sophie.”
“No, of course not, silly.” She patted the top of his head. “But for once, Claire and I agree. This is complete and utter bollocks.”
“I think…” he said. “I think you’re going to have…a marvelous time.”
“You’re winding down,” she said, her voice a little subdued. “How’s about one last twist?”
He shook his head, his movements even jerkier than before. “No, this is…best. I’d rather run down…while looking at your…lovely face.”
“Adam, you’re the sweetest old gay uncle a girl could ever hope to have. I’m going to miss you something awful.” She gave him a hug and he patted her back jerkily.
“Boy,” he said, his voice sounding even thinner and more metallic. “Don’t let these girls…push you around…too much.”
“I’ll try,” I said.
“But also…don’t ever…leave them behind…. They’ve been left behind…too many times…already.”
“I promise,” I said.
“Wolfie…you fat…hairy…bastard.”
“Yeah, Adam,” said Mozart.
“It was…worth it…. All of it…It was…”
There was a faint click, and he stopped moving.
We stood there for a little while, just looking at him. Sophie cried quietly. Finally, Mozart took a tarp and pulled it over him.
“He hated getting dusty,” he said gruffly as he laid his hand gently on the covered form. Then he turned to us. “Now, how about a drink?”
15
Sophie, So Good
WE WENT TO a dimly lit club back in the Strip District. Although the outside looked like a drab warehouse, the inside looked ultramodern, with lots of frosted glass surfaces and chrome fixtures. Mozart showed the guy at the door his ID. It looked like he was about to ask for ours, but then Mozart did some werewolf thing with his eyes, and the guy suddenly looked really nervous and just let us in.
Once we were safely inside, Sophie patted his hairy cheek. “You are very useful.” Then she turned toward the dance floor in the back of the club. “Now, if you lads will excuse me, I haven’t been dancing in ages.”
“Go ahead,” said Mozart. “We’ll be at the bar.”
Sophie nodded, her eyes dreamy as she walked toward the flashing lights, pounding drum and bass, and thick crowd in the back.
We sat down on a couple of padded leather stools at the glittering chrome-finished bar.
“I’ve never been in a real nightclub,” I said.
“You do need to get out for a while, then.” Mozart waved to the bartender, a cute human girl with a bull-ring nose piercing. “Scotch on the rocks for me.” Then he turned to me. “What do you want?”
I shrugged. “Beer, I guess?”
“And an Iron City for him,” he told the bartender.
While the bartender got our drinks, I watched Sophie out on the dance floor. She wasn’t anywhere near as good a dancer as Liel. But there was something so free about the way she moved, like she didn’t care what anyone thought of her. Guys would try to dance with her, but she’d just glide right past, lost in her own little world. Liel danced for others. Sophie just danced for herself.
The bartender placed our drinks in front of us. As Mozart handed her some money, he said, “You know what? I think I need to get out for a while myself.”
“You’re going to travel with us?” I asked.
“Nah. Traveling alone is what I really need right now. Think I’ll hop a train tomorrow. Maybe I won’t even check which way it’s going first.”
“That’ll be cool.” I took a sip of my beer to hide my disappointment.
“Look, I know it’s going to be a little weird with those girls, always changing personalities. But they’re survivors. You’ll be all right with them. Besides, what do you need an old dog like me hanging around for, anyway? I’d just cramp your style.”
“What style?” I asked.
“Exactly. You can’t be stuck in my impressively stylish shadow. You need room to do your own thing.”
I nodded and took another sip of my beer. It still felt like he was ditching us.
He picked up his tumbler filled with ice and yellow liquid. He took a swallow, then swirled the ice in the glass. “Something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“What was up with those crazy humans attacking you and Liel back in Jersey? What were they after?”
I need
ed to tell someone about VI. I wasn’t sure what she would do next, but I knew she wasn’t done. She was dangerous and totally out of control.
But when I looked over at Mozart, into his sharp, gray wolf eyes, I suddenly felt so ashamed. I never should have made her in the first place. And then I screwed it up even more by pissing her off. How could I possibly explain that to Mozart without him losing all respect for me?
So I kept my mouth shut and just shrugged. “Maybe it’s like you said. Sometimes you just never know the reason for a thing.”
“Yeah…” His eyes narrowed. “I’m not your dad and it’s not my job to coddle you. You don’t want to tell me what’s going on and that you’re business. Frankly, I don’t want to know the details, anyway. But I’m going to take a shot in the dark here and say you got into some bad shit in the city, which is why you split.”
“Sort of.”
“And whatever it is you got into, it isn’t done yet.”
“Yeah.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“Um…”
“Do you have any plan at all? Any destination in mind at least?”
“No.”
We sat there at the bar for a little while in silence, both of us just staring at the rainbow line of liquor bottles in front of us. The pulse and heat from the nearby dance floor was thick in the air. I picked at the label on my beer bottle.
“Would you take a suggestion?” Mozart asked.
“Maybe.”
“There are a few other groups like The Show scattered around the world.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“There hasn’t been much communication between them.”
“Why not?”
“Some creatures, usually the ones in charge, live a long time. A lot of history and resentments can pile up over a couple of centuries.” He took another sip of his drink. “I don’t know all the places. But there’s a commune down in New Mexico I used to visit sometimes that has a whole bunch of creatures. It’s way out in the middle of nowhere. Maybe you could lay low there for a while until whatever’s going on blows over. It’s run by the Sphinx.”
“Like, the Sphinx?”
“Last time I was there, which was about fifteen years ago. Whatever this problem of yours is, the Sphinx can probably help you solve it. He’s just about the wisest creature on the planet.”
“You think he’d help me?”
“He saved my ass several times when I was younger.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. Like I said before, I was young and stupid once, too.”
Sophie appeared between us. “That was a small slice of awesome.” She leaned back against the bar, her elbows hooked on the edge. Her pale face was flushed, and her curly long hair was stringy with sweat. “So, what’s the plan, lads?”
“You know how to drive?” Mozart asked.
“Got my license and everything,” she said.
“UK license?”
“It’s valid. Claire checked.”
“I’m leaving the car with you guys, then. Just drop me off at the Amtrak station tomorrow morning.”
“Cool.” She turned to me. “Then where are we going?”
“Well, Mozart was telling me about a group of magic creatures out in New Mexico.”
“New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment?!” She grabbed my shoulders.
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” I said.
“I’ve heard it’s one of the most beautiful places in the country! This is going to be brilliant!” She grabbed my beer and chugged down half of it. “But first, more dancing!” Then she made her way back out on the dance floor, leaving a trail of confused guys in her wake.
“Yeah,” said Mozart. “It’s going to be real interesting.”
MOZART TREATED US to a night in a fancy hotel.
“One bed, though,” he said as we walked into the lobby. “I’m not wasting my money on prudishness.”
“Works for me!” Sophie bounded up to the front desk. “Your finest one bedroom, sir!” she declared to the sleepy attendant.
It ended up being not quite as crowded as I thought it would be, mostly because Mozart turned into a wolf and curled up at the foot of the bed. But still, I had to share the bed with Sophie, this beautiful girl that I’d only just met. And while that wasn’t a problem exactly, I had to admit, it made me really self-conscious.
“You all right?” she asked as we climbed into either side of the big, king-sized bed. She was wearing the T-shirt that Claire had been wearing earlier, but now it was more like a nightshirt. Her smooth, pale legs peeked out from underneath. She looked at me with her head cocked to one side, her curls wet and faintly floral scented from the shower she had just taken. The combination made me a little dizzy.
“Sure,” I said as I laid down and closed my eyes. “You going to turn out that light?”
“Are you uncomfortable or something?”
“No.”
“Lies!” I felt her shove my shoulder. “You completely are!”
“No, I’m not!” But as soon as I opened my eyes and looked at her, all soft and pink and smiling, I had to close them again.
“You’re turning red!” She gave an evil laugh. “You know I was actually a little nervous going on this trip with you.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you could probably break me in half like a toothpick if you got mad at me.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Yeah, I thought not. Still, it made me a bit uneasy. But apparently, all I have to do is flash some leg and you’re completely incapacitated. Haven’t you ever been in bed with a girl before?”
“One.”
“That’s it? Geez, are you ridiculously shy or something?”
“No, I’m just fucking ugly, okay?” Then I rolled over onto my side so that my back was facing her. My pulse pounded loudly in my temples and I could feel my face getting hotter and hotter. In my head, I heard Liel’s voice: You just need a little glamour. I closed my eyes and I could see that girl’s face in the travel plaza parking lot, her mouth in a big O as she let out a horror movie scream. I thought of Shaun. I can’t believe you even thought you had a chance with her. I promised myself I wouldn’t be stupid again. That I’d know my place. That I wouldn’t get my hopes up, only to have them crushed again.
Then I felt Sophie’s small hand on my shoulder. Gentle this time. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine,” I said without turning. “I’m used to it.”
I should be used to it by now. Why wasn’t I used to it? I squeezed my eyes tighter to keep the sudden tears away. It didn’t work, and one leaked across the bridge of my nose and dropped onto the crisp white hotel pillowcase.
Suddenly, I felt Sophie lie down directly behind me. Her warmth pressed against my back and her fresh shower smell made me think of the sunlit fields Mozart and I had driven through that morning.
She whispered into my ear, “You want to know something?”
“What?”
“Claire thinks you’re hot.”
“Yeah?” I said, turning to look at her.
“Utterly.” Then she leaned back and turned out the light.
We lay side by side in the darkness for a moment. Then I said, “She’s going to be pissed you said that, isn’t she?”
“She already is.” I could hear the smirk in her voice. “She’ll get over it.”
The wolf at our feet growled. “If you kids are done getting comfortable, I’d like to get some sleep.”
“ALL RIGHT, GUYS,” Mozart said when he pulled us up in front of the Amtrak station the next morning. He turned to me in the passenger’s seat. “The New Mexico place is called The Commune. It’s been a long time since I was there and my memory is a little fuzzy, but I think it’s off Route 56 in the northeastern part of the state about halfway between Clayton and Springer.” He handed me a map of the United States with the spot marked on it. Then he handed me some rolled-up bills
. “This ought to get you enough gas to get there. After that, you’re on your own.”
“Thanks, Mozart,” I said. “I owe you.”
“Yeah, you do,” he said. Then he turned to Sophie in the backseat. “It’s all yours, Soph.”
“Brilliant!” she said, climbing out of the car. “Thanks, Wolfie!”
“Yeah, and take it easy on Boy, you hear me?” he said as he climbed out.
“Of course.” She kissed his hairy cheek and climbed into the driver’s seat.
He looked down at us, a little smile on his lips, then shook his head. “Good hunting.” Then he turned and walked into the station without looking back.
“Road trip!!!!!” yelled Sophie, and gunned the engine to life.
Soon we were speeding along the suspension bridge that stretched across the confluence of the Ohio and Allegheny Rivers. Then we plunged into the Washington Tunnel. Being underground made me think of Liel, but only for a moment. Then I looked over at Sophie, her eyes sparkling in the unnatural light, a bright grin stretching up into dimples on her pale pink cheeks. I turned back to face down the long stream of lights that cut through the darkness on either side. When we came out on the other side, the rolling green hills and deep blue sky opened wide around us, and I had the strangest feeling I was falling.
“Freedom!” said Sophie, and squeezed my leg.
“Yeah,” I said. Maybe it was just the beautiful girl next to me, but this felt good. It felt right. The road was open before us, and it seemed filled with possibility.
16
Follow the Yellow Dotted Line
WE DROVE FROM Pittsburgh to Indianapolis that day. To save money, we slept in the car at a rest stop that night.
“No hot leg viewing for Boy tonight!” Sophie said as we settled into our reclined seats. Then she winked at me like it was our little joke. I couldn’t tell if she didn’t realize that I was developing a crush on her, or if she did realize and was actually making fun of me.
The next morning as we were getting back on the road, I asked, “So where are you from?”