by Jeff Strand
"We still don't know why they were after you."
"You're right. We don't."
"Any ideas?"
Harriett considers that for a moment. "I am drawn toward stopping the Cyclops, as are Graspin and Maraud. There must be an opposing force. Perhaps Reggie was drawn toward his own destiny to slay me to protect the creature. I am not happy about this. At least they're dead now."
"Let's pretend, for argument's sake, that I don't believe in the Cyclops. In a hypothetical world where the Cyclops doesn't exist, why would you think they were trying to catch you?"
"I can't think of any possible motive."
"You have to have some idea."
"I grew up with virtually no social interaction. I'm off to slay what you believe to be a myth. Why would anybody be desperate to stop me?"
"I don't know, and it's freaking me out."
Maraud steps out of the woods. "When do we talk about my share of the seven hundred and fifty thousand bucks?" he asks.
I stand up. "Look, we—"
"You saying there's no seven hundred and fifty thousand bucks?"
"We just—"
"You saying that you've been lying to me?"
"We—"
"Pretty much figured that from the beginning. It was a stupid story. Not as stupid as the Cyclops story, but stupid."
"So why are you with us?"
Maraud shrugs. "Dunno. Trying to sort that out."
"Well, for what it's worth, we're glad you're here."
"Yeah, whatever." He glances around. "Where's Seth?"
Where is Seth? He always peed quickly. He should've been back before Maraud, who has a much larger bladder.
Seth steps out of the woods. Three seconds of worry for nothing.
* * *
Seth drives Reggie's car, while Maraud sits in the passenger seat, which is scooted all the way back. Harriett has the misfortune of sitting behind him, while I get the relative comfort of sitting behind Seth. It should be noted that I offered to take Harriett's spot, but she declined, explaining that her body was the smallest of the group. The fact that her body contains ten times more fierce power per square inch than mine is irrelevant in terms of needing legroom.
He's driving very, very slowly. Though every time he goes over a particularly large bump, we the passengers loudly inform him that he's going too fast.
I've got my cell phone out and I'm watching the screen. Any moment now...any moment now...
"Got a signal!" I announce. I call AAA, describe the truck's location as best I can, and am told that they'll have a tow truck there within an hour. But since we've got Reggie's car, which I assume nobody will be looking for, we can continue our journey while Maraud's truck is in the shop.
I've also got a voice mail from a number I don't recognize. As soon as I hear the voice, I turn the volume up all the way and put it on speaker.
"Evan Portin? This is Jeannie Erickson. You and that red-haired lady were in my gift shop in New Orleans saying some weird shit. I need you to call me as soon as possible. Thanks."
What the hell?
"Oh my goodness," says Harriett.
She called about an hour ago. I immediately call her back. When she answers with "Hello?" she doesn't sound like I woke her up.
"Jeannie?"
"Hey. Where are you?"
"We're in Arizona. By the way, I've got you on speaker," I say, because it's poor form not to let somebody know that they're on speakerphone.
"Since you left my shop, I've been having some weird hallucinations. I was seeing Cyclopses everywhere."
"That can't be pleasant."
"It wasn't. I figured you drugged me or hypnotized me or some sneaky business like that. I almost checked myself into a hospital. But then I started to think, 'Well, what if they were telling the truth?' You know what happened?"
"I'm not sure."
"The hallucinations stopped. I got all peaceful, like I found Jesus. Not that I ever lost Jesus; that's just an example of what it felt like."
Hallucinations, dreams, fantasies...what a myriad of options for learning that your destiny is to slay a Cyclops!
"That's very...I actually don't know how to react to that," I say.
"I've decided to trust my grandson to run the shop on his own. I want to join you."
"We welcome you," says Harriett. "Thank you so much!"
"Wait, hold on," I say. "We've got some safety issues that I need to bring up. It's been crazy. I don't want to send you out here without warning you about the kind of stuff we've been going through. I'm talking about cage fighting and people shooting at us. You know the day we met you? That night I almost got my throat cut. I should list everything that's happened."
"He's right," says Harriett. "It would be irresponsible not to offer full disclosure."
"I'm listening," says Jeannie.
I run down the events, starting with the muggers in the park back in Tampa. It felt like more of them while I was actually living the danger, but still, there have been several instances where I could easily be dead now. I don't want to betray Harriett by dissuading Jeannie from joining us, but I also want to make it clear that there's plenty of peril.
"Thank you for your honesty," says Jeannie. "I'm almost sixty-eight years old and I shouldn't be putting myself through any of those experiences. But I guess none of those things sound as dangerous as fighting a Cyclops."
"That's absolutely true," I say.
"I feel like I need to do this. It makes no sense to me. It won't surprise me if I wake up in the morning and think it was the dumbest idea I've ever had in my life. So I'll make sure that the plane ticket I'm buying as soon as I hang up is refundable."
* * *
Our luck is changing. We return to wait by the truck, and the tow truck is there fifteen minutes later. I mean, it's still bad luck from the perspective that Maraud's truck had to be towed away, and the auto repair place obviously won't be open until tomorrow morning, but it's nice that we didn't have to wait very long.
We check into a cheap motel. They only have one room available, but we're all so exhausted that we just say, screw it. Maraud gets one bed, Harriett gets the other, I get the floor, and Seth gets the bathtub.
Maraud snores even louder than Seth.
In the morning, we drive to the auto repair shop, where the manager explains that, yeah, it's bad. And they won't be able to get to it for at least a couple of days.
"Going to compartmentalize this," Maraud tells us as we leave. "That's what I'm supposed to do. Put it in a little safe in my brain and lock it up tight. We have a working car. We can worry about this later. Not angry. Very calm."
I don't point out that he's twitching.
Jeannie won't arrive until this evening. Harriett doesn't want to move forward until the entire group of heroes has banded together, so we've got a whole day to kill.
"I've got kind of a crazy idea," says Seth. "I have an honest face, so I think I can use Reggie's credit card without them asking for ID. If you ask me, he owes us some R&R."
* * *
Spa treatments have never sounded appealing to me. They were always more of a Becky thing. But as the four of us lay on our individual tables, getting massages, I feel like we're in paradise.
Maraud eschews the facial, manicure, and pedicure, but the rest of us take full advantage of the facilities. We cannot in good conscience go into the hot tub and cloud up the water with our open wounds, but for everything else, price is no object.
"I've never had my skin exfoliated," says Seth. "It's amazing. Feel how smooth my hand is."
I don't mind when he runs his hand over my cheek. It is remarkably smooth.
"I've never been in a robe," says Harriett, taking a sip of her cucumber-flavored water. "This may become my permanent attire."
"Why do we have to go kill the Cyclops?" asks Seth. "Can't we just live here instead?"
"You're right," I say. "I vote we live here. All in favor?"
Everybody raises their h
ands.
"Then it's settled."
* * *
Reggie's credit card finances a delicious four-course dinner. Maraud orders a second steak.
* * *
We really should have a bigger car. Unfortunately, we can get away with using Reggie's credit card at a spa or a restaurant, but not at a car rental agency or a hotel, where we'd have to show ID. Maraud says that there's no chance in hell that he's paying for it. Seth says that his credit cards are maxed out. Harriett planned to pay for everything with the cash that got taken away. I'm unemployed, and though I'm willing to pay for a hotel room when we're on the verge of collapse, I'm not going to pay for a rental car, especially one where the car will probably get damaged. Those sitting in the back seat will just have to get snuggly.
Seth and Maraud wait in the car while Harriett and I go inside to meet Jeannie at baggage claim. She's not there yet, so we watch other passengers collect their suitcases.
"That looks fun," Harriett says.
"Getting your luggage?"
"The moving surface that's transporting the bags. It would be fun to ride on that. I've missed out on so much."
"Oh, well, normal kids don't get to ride on conveyer belts, either, so it's not a gap in your childhood."
"Would they be angry if I sat on it?"
"Yes. It's the airport. They'd be really angry. Don't do it."
"I won't."
Jeannie shows up after a few minutes. She's got a small suitcase on wheels, and is wearing jeans and a yellow t-shirt. I've never seen her walk before, so I'm not happy to see that she's hobbling a bit, but I guess that's more Harriett's concern than mine.
She sees us and smiles. "I apologize for my rudeness last time," she says, when we reach each other.
"It's fine," says Harriett. "That was completely understandable. I said unusual things."
"Do you have any other luggage?" I ask.
Jeannie shakes her head. "You said to pack light. And I didn't want to start off having to deal with lost bags. They lose my bags every time. I mean, every single time." She smiles again, nervously. "This is madness, isn't it?"
"Not at all," says Harriett.
"It is a little," I say. "But it's okay."
"I can't believe I'm doing this. It boggles my mind that I'm here. I don't do things like this."
"Join the club," I say. "So, anyway, Seth is a normal guy. If you've spent any time around geeks, you won't have any problems with him. Maraud is less normal."
"His full name is Maraud the Berserker," says Harriett.
"I see."
"He's big, and he looks scary, and like I said, we watched him kill two men by snapping their necks with his bare hands. But, like I also said, the men were homicidal. Anyway, he'll be sitting up front, so you don't have to worry about him."
"Why am I doing this?" asks Jeannie.
"Destiny," says Harriett.
"Yeah, that must be it."
* * *
Jeannie sits in the back with Seth and Harriett while I drive. She texts a lot, and I stop counting the fifteenth time she asks our opinion on whether or not she is insane for doing this.
I've given up trying to figure out scientific explanations for what's going on. I have no clue. All I can do is wait for the moment when we finally discover that there is no Cyclops, and see if an explanation for everybody's behavior surfaces.
We go to a different hotel. Five to a room simply isn't going to work. Jeannie doesn't seem nearly committed enough to the journey to risk putting her through that. Harriett promises again that she will do whatever it takes to pay me back, and in a moment of weakness I decide to spring for five separate rooms. I shouldn't be doing this, but, hey, it's not as if I'm accruing a student loan level of debt.
"I believe that tomorrow's events will be straightforward," says Harriett, as the five of us sit on a couple of couches in the lobby. "We will continue to follow the road until we reach the well. If we're fortunate, which is not guaranteed, our descent and the retrieval of our weapon will be free of incident. I have faith in us."
"We're going down a well?" asks Maraud.
"Yes. You knew that."
"No, I didn't."
"That's right, we told you we were assassins. I assumed you overheard when Evan explained it to Jeannie on the cellular telephone."
"I knew there was a well. I didn't know I'd be going down it. That sounds claustrophobic."
"Everything is optional," says Harriett. "I had one dark moment where I tried to take away Evan's free will, and it was regrettable. It won't happen again."
"How big is this well?" asks Maraud.
"I don't know."
"Will I get stuck?"
"We will make sure that doesn't happen."
"I'm trusting you."
"You know what's weird?" asks Jeannie. "I'm looking forward to this. Isn't that crazy?"
"Hey, I've been having a great time," says Seth. "Not so much while we were getting shot at, and I guess I didn't enjoy the part where we had to bury those dudes. But excluding those parts, and a couple of other parts, this is awesome. I love you guys."
"Definitely wouldn't say I love you guys," says Maraud. "But considering that you lied to me, cost me my job, and almost got me killed, I don't have that many angry thoughts toward you."
"Thanks, Maraud," I say. "That's sweet."
"Sometimes I'm sweet."
"Well, I can't promise that I'm not going to have second thoughts," says Jeannie. "But for now, I'm all in."
"Should we make up a team name?" asks Seth.
"No," says Maraud.
"Aw, c'mon. It'll boost morale. We should be Harriett and the Cyclops Slayers."
"I don't object to that," says Harriett.
"Or The Cyclops Slayers Five."
"What about The Whack-Nut Quintet?" I ask.
"I've got it," says Seth. "Team Becky! To honor your wife!"
"I'm not comfortable with that."
"We don't have to use that one. It's just an idea. Maybe we could do something with an acronym. What's a good acronym?"
"What words can we form out of JACKASS?" asks Maraud.
"We should probably head off to bed," I say. "Tomorrow's going to be another long day. I mean, long like yesterday. Today was actually really pleasant."
We all head up to our rooms. Seth's room is right next to mine, and I can hear him snoring through the wall. Fortunately, with a pillow over my head, I'm able to sleep.
* * *
After Maraud sets the record for most bagels ever eaten at a free continental breakfast, we're back in Reggie's car on the dirt road. I'd rather be the one driving, but Seth is bigger than I am, so in the interest of maximizing space, I'm sitting in the back with Harriett and Jeannie.
Everyone is kind of nervous, so there's not a lot of conversation. Jeannie does breathe a sigh of relief when she gets a text (and accompanying photographic proof) from her grandson confirming that he has indeed opened the shop and is behind the counter.
We reach the spot where Maraud's truck broke down. I feel an uncomfortable chill knowing that there are two dead bodies not too far from here. At least I'm relatively confident that they won't return as zombies.
We continue driving. The road twists and turns, and twists and turns, and twists and turns...who made this road, anyway? The way it's designed seems more like a deterrent than a way that a road might naturally happen, unless the plowing was done by a horse that had gone mad.
"Not trying to weird anybody out," says Seth, "but don't you think we should have crossed our own path at some point?"
"Huh?" asks Maraud.
"It feels like we're going in circles, but the road would have to cross over itself."
"No," says Jeannie. "I've been paying close attention. It's loopy as hell but the geometry still makes sense."
"Okay," says Seth. "Good to know."
We drive for another hour. We're going really slowly, so we probably haven't gone anywhere near as far as it feels like,
but this is one long dirt road. And I agree with Seth that it seems like the road should have crossed over itself at least once, though Jeannie insists that she's very good at making maps in her head, and that we're still fine.
One more hour passes. "This is a positive thing," says Harriett. "If it's this inconvenient, we don't have to worry that somebody else stumbled upon the well by accident."
"That's a good point," I say. "Nobody in their right mind would still be driving on this damn road."
After another ten minutes, the road ends.
Seth stops the car and turns off the engine. "Was it supposed to just end like this?"
"I assume so," says Harriett. "Now we'll have to walk."
"At least it's daylight," says Maraud.
The five of us get out of the car. There's no clear path.
"So, Human GPS," I say to Harriett, "which way?"
"I'm going to say straight ahead."
We walk into the woods. Harriett takes the lead, and Maraud follows right behind her, even though he'd be justified in sitting this one out. Seth, who's carrying the flashlight, brings up the rear.
I have serious concerns about walking around aimlessly for as long as we just drove, but about a hundred yards ahead, we see it. There is indeed a large well in the woods.
It doesn't have a roof or a bucket on a rope. It's just gray bricks in a circle, maybe three feet high. Harriett hurries over to it, and I can't help but be excited, too. We found the well! This is kind of cool.
Harriett reads something inscribed on the bricks. When she turns around, she looks like she's been kicked in the stomach.
She gives me a look that I interpret as "apologetic," which is not the kind of look I want to receive from her.
"This is very upsetting," she says.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"What's wrong?" I ask.
She taps on the inscription. "Read it for yourself."
I walk up to the well. The bricks are weather-beaten and look ancient, although admittedly I do not have the expertise to identify the era from which a certain set of bricks originated. The inscription is faded but still legible.