by J. R. Rain
I smile sheepishly. “I dunno. Something happened to me. I guess being in the woods is really like my thing now.”
“Ranger or wizard?” asks Agent Prince.
“What?” I stare at him. “English please.”
“Oh, I think she’s going full wizard.” Jade winks at me.
I sigh. “What are you two babbling about?”
“Leave her alone.” Jade pokes Prince in the side. “She’s not into those kinds of games. You might as well speak Greek at her instead of talking about character classes.”
“I am speaking Geek at her.” Agent Prince laughs.
Jade rolls her eyes.
Other MIBs standing around the ‘tool shed’ stop talking to each other and stare at me. A few look like they took a tumble down a hill. No sign of Scar anymore. Judging by their annoyed expressions―and torn clothing―I assume he got away from them. If I ever meet him again, I’ll have to ask how he did that. Though, the answer could be as simple as not stopping to upload pictures and letting them surround me.
Jade leads the way north. We follow a paved trail for a little while until it reaches a stone building with a little green sign calling it a ‘ramble shed.’ A wrought-iron fence to its left encloses a small parking lot with a red FDNY box truck and a black sedan, which I imagine is Jade’s, technically the FBI’s.
At least she doesn’t handcuff me before opening the back door.
She pulls out onto the 79th St Transverse. “Home or office?”
“Home.” I lean back and close my eyes. “I think I’m going to take the week off.”
“Heh,” says Jade. “I would too.”
A few minutes pass in silence.
“I wasn’t totally honest with that doctor. I do have somewhat different feelings. I don’t think I’m possessed or anything, but like that pull to the woods is stronger. And some other stuff.” I shoot a glance at Prince, which Jade catches in the rearview.
“Anything fun?” she asks.
“Oh, yeah. I think Mr. Moody’s talking to me.”
She laughs. “I wouldn’t say that out loud again to the wrong person.”
“Yeah. Good idea.”
ome again. Jade invites herself in to make sure I’m okay. Agent Prince takes a minute or three of her time to mutter about some case they’re working on before hopping a cab and riding off. We go inside and up to my fifth-floor apartment. Mr. Moody greets me in the hall, but wanders off when Jade walks in. He’s not a skittish cat, but he tends to avoid company. It’s also a bit early for his meal, so he’s not pestering me. I wonder if he’ll start asking for food instead of weaving between my legs. Assuming he continues speaking―that’s another subject to bring up with Mom and Dad.
I don’t care if I’m not theirs by birth. They’re still Mom and Dad. Though, they should have told me by now. I haven’t quite worked out how upset I’m going to be with them yet, but I’ll come up with something. Accusing them might cause a rift, so the dignified ‘you really should’ve trusted me with this’ angle sounds like the best bet.
“I like the new color scheme. Really makes the place seem bigger.” Jade prowls her way into the living room, appraising my secondhand-store chic of blues, greens, and gently fading browns.
She’s been so busy with work—and Paula—she hasn’t had a chance to come over since she’s helped me move in a few months ago. And yes, my previous abode was even smaller.
“Right? If only this wasn’t all I can afford, and even this is pushing it. Good thing I don’t eat much.” I hit the bedroom and change into a knee-length black t-shirt and nothing else. It’s comfortable enough—until I can ditch it once I’m alone.
Jade’s on the couch when I emerge. I swing by the kitchen to grab some cups and a bottle of mead before plopping down beside her.
As soon as she sees it, she laughs. “Mead? I didn’t peg you for a ren-fest type.”
“I’m not. I don’t even know what that means.”
“Renaissance Festivals. You know, where people dress up like medieval times and hang out for a couple hours in the woods buying kitsch, throwing axes at targets, and watching guys dressed up like knights joust.”
I pour, then hand her a cup. “Oh. Right. Never been to one. Where did that come from?”
She makes a toast gesture. “The mead. It’s like an old-timey drink. I thought only fantasy geeks bothered with it.”
“I like the way it tastes. Dad introduced me. I can’t understand why anyone would drink beer more than once.”
Jade laughs, a sparkle in her eyes. Oh, she’s giving me that look. If she didn’t have Paula, we might wind up going into some strange territory. Maybe I shouldn’t give her alcohol.
“Ever notice how whenever people eat or drink something nasty they call it an ‘acquired taste’?” she asks. “How about, if you have to train yourself to eat something without cringing, maybe you shouldn’t eat it?”
A giggle slips out from under my gloom. It’s not every day you get black-bagged and taken to a hidden detention site by the government. If I didn’t know Jade, I’d probably still be down there. “Yeah. I guess it makes sense now… Remember how I could drink tons and never get smashed? I always wound up dragging your ass back to the dorm.”
Jade gives me an envious look while swirling her drink around. “Alcohol doesn’t work on elves the same way as it does on us, huh?”
“Sends me to the bathroom every ten minutes.” I grin. “But drinking that much of anything would. So, I guess I’m a mythological creature. My kid sister’s into those fantasy games. I bet she knows more about me than I do.”
“How is she doing? Still quiet?” Jade raises one eyebrow.
I pick at my glass. “Eva’s okay, and yeah, still kinda quiet. She turned sixteen a few months ago, and you know, mostly gotten over her―oh what did they call it…? Selective mutism. At home, she can carry on a normal conversation, but she still keeps to herself in public. We’re both outcasts, I guess. I didn’t have a lot of friends in school either. The girl with the weird parents who run the witchcraft store. Not like Miss Prom Queen here.” I grin at her.
“Yeah. Not.” She takes a long sip of her mead, smacking her lips. “This stuff is so sweet, I can feel the beetus coming on. But anyway, she’s doing okay?”
“I don’t see as much of them as I like.” I shrug. “You know I moved out of the house when she was still a baby. Off to college. We ended up not really knowing each other too well. I mean, we do, but… I only see her when I go to visit for holidays and stuff. I wouldn’t say she’s clingy, but whenever I’m there, I have a growth attached to my arm.”
Jade chuckles, almost choking on her drink. “Late-marriage surprise. Kudos to your folks for keepin’ it frisky.”
I glare at her playfully. “Thanks. I really didn’t need that mental image.”
“You’re most welcome.” She winks.
“Oh, I saw that Dr. Kumar on TV the other night… in Geneva,” I say. “Guess whatever that creature was didn’t get her.”
“No luck on identifying it?”
“Maybe I’ll have more luck if you release a still from that video so I can show it to my dad. I’ve never seen anything like it.” I play with my hair, still not quite believing the color. “Do you think this stuff has to do with that experiment? Did that bizarre storm cover the whole planet?”
“Yes on both counts, but we haven’t been able to prove any connection. CERN isn’t talking much, other than saying whatever it is they did yielded some data useful for the research into quantum computing.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Quantum computing?”
She sips another mouthful, and shrugs. “From what I understand, it’s a computer that can calculate more functions in an instant than there supposedly exists atoms in the known universe. So, in order to process that, it needs to reach into other dimensions to spin the charge on electrons to do calculations. Or something like that. If quantum computing works, it would prove other dimensions exist.”
“You understand a lot,” I say. “Like a shit-ton more than me. Everything you just said went in one pointy ear and out the other.”
She laughs. “I guess I can’t keep using blonde jokes on you.”
“Does white count as blonde?” I wave some of my hair at her. “Maybe this will wear off, and I’ll go back to being normal.” I doubt it, but I can hope.
“Why would you want to? You’re so effing hot right now.” She licks the top of her glass, staring at me.
Oh, crap. I don’t know anything about being an elf. Do I have a glamour on? Does my mere presence charm men? Or lesbians? Or is she messing with me? Okay. I can mess back. “Oh, check this out.” I flip up my t-shirt for a few seconds. “Don’t need to get Brazilians anymore.”
Jade cracks up laughing. “Now that is awesome. Where do I sign up? I gotta find a new place. I think the girl who does my wax used to work as a CIA interrogator.”
Okay, she’s teasing me. No charm glamour. Good. That would be highly inconvenient.
My smile is part guilt, part nervous about the future. “I didn’t exactly ask for this. There’s gotta be a downside somewhere. What if a normal guy isn’t like compatible with me. I mean, what if I can’t have kids?”
Jade furrows her eyebrows. “I thought you said you didn’t want any bratlings?”
“I didn’t. But… thinking it’s not even a choice anymore, I dunno.”
She leans close and rubs my shoulder. “Aww, don’t get upset over it yet. Talk to your kid sister, she’ll tell you. Bet there’s lots of half-elves running around.”
That makes me laugh. “Oh come on. This isn’t a game.”
“So, speaking of.” She waggles her eyebrows. “How’s it going with that Wall Street douche?”
“Diego’s not a douche.” I trace my finger around the top of the glass, wondering how he’s going to react to this… change. “More of a dick.”
She chuckles, but it turns somber fast. “Paula’s riding the bitch train. Nothing I do seems to be right. Too much time with the job one day, the next I’m too clingy. We’re fighting more than anything these days, and I don’t know what I can do to stop it. She won’t let me into her head. Something’s going on, and it’s like I’m stuck outside staring in a window watching her melt down. Why won’t she let me help?”
“Sorry. It’s kinda like that with Diego, only we don’t really fight. If we aren’t screwing like bunnies, I’m usually sitting on the bed or sofa while he’s off in the next room reaming someone out over the phone. Sometimes I think the man should try to have sex with his job. He’d be happier.”
Jade snickers into her cup. “I’d totally hit on you.”
“Thanks. Maybe someday I’ll give it a whirl, see where it goes.”
She lets out a long sigh. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I want to keep things right between me and Paula.”
“I bet it’s her parents. They can’t handle her not dating a white girl.”
“That ain’t even it. She doesn’t talk to them much anymore after that,” says Jade. “Called ‘em ‘racist shitbags’ right to their faces.”
I scowl at the rug. “Well, they are. Sorry you have to deal with that.”
“People are assholes.” She flicks her nail at the cup. “Got any more of this stuff?”
“Yeah. Few bottles.” I stand and make it halfway to the kitchen before a bad thought stops me in my tracks. “Shit.”
“What?”
I spin to stare at her. “People are crappy to each other for having the wrong skin color or wrong kind of hair. What are they going to do to me? I’m not even the same species.”
“Aww, I wouldn’t worry about it. You still look like a hot-ass white girl. I’m the half-black mongrel that’s not even good enough to meet my mother’s parents. Mom hasn’t spoken to them in decades.”
“That’s so shitty of them to be like that.” I shake my head. How many different permutations of the same thought have I given her over the years when she chose to open up about the topic? And yeah, it’s still shitty.
“Yeah.” She manages a weak smile. “I mean, Uncle Ricky and his wife and kids are chill. You know, Mom’s brother.”
Once another bottle of mead is added to the equation, I flop next to her again. “That’s cool… But your grandparents. I’m so sorry… that’s such a horrible thing to do to a kid.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “Mom never brought me around them, did she? I don’t know them. Don’t want to know them. Gran and Papa are great. Dad’s side of the family more than makes up for it.”
We drink in silence for a little while before I notice her sad stare at the carpet. I pat her hand and give it a squeeze. “Thanks for getting me out of there. I owe you one.”
“I already owed you for draggin’ you away from loverboy, remember?”
“Ehh. Whatever. It’s an endless cycle. Speaking of that, whose turn is it to buy food?”
She gives me a blank look.
“I’ll get it. You got next. Thai?”
Jade nods.
Mr. Moody leaps up onto the coffee table.
“Hi there,” says Jade. “He’s friendly tonight.”
The cat stares at her for a little while before shifting his piercing green eyes to me. “Would you mind popping open a can sometime soon? I’m about to gnaw my paws off.”
Jade fumbles her mead, only getting a little on her shirt. “Tell me I haven’t had six bottles of this stuff and I’m hearing your cat talk.”
“Yeah. He’s been doing that ever since that storm.” I reach out and skritch the top of his head. “Guess I know I’m not schizophrenic now, if you can hear him.”
“Oh… evil woman trying to delay my meal. That feels sooo good.” His legs melt out from under him and he perches in a cat loaf. “Don’t stop.”
“That’s…” Jade blinks. “Incredible. Man, all this odd shit. Sightings all over the country of things that aren’t supposed to exist. Talking cats.”
“Numina,” I say.
“Numi-what?” Jade glances at me.
“My boss at the paper calls them Numina. Well, not the cat. He just talks. But yeah, it’s easier than saying ‘supernatural creatures.’ Anything people aren’t supposed to believe in that really exists.” Hmm. I guess I’m officially a numina. A nasty fit of giggles leaves me breathless.
“What about that is funny?” Jade asks.
“Me. I’m a numina.” I flick my pointy ears. “I don’t officially exist.”
Jade reaches over and touches my ear, caressing the ridge with one finger. She’s got a tenderness Diego couldn’t even begin to match. I keep my gaze on the cat. Making eye contact with her now would cause a whole heap of trouble. She lowers her arm in a minute or two. I can feel her smiling at me. “You’ll be all right. Keep your head down for now. The MIBs should leave you alone.”
“Think so?”
“Yeah. I told them you’re a harmless little photographer for a tabloid that no one takes seriously. Even if you try to go public, people will think it’s a stunt. The MIBs would have plenty of time to swoop in and control the situation before anyone believed you.”
“Think they would? I mean, if this stuff is going on all over the world, it’s foolish to think they can keep it quiet. Why are they even trying?”
She leans back and drains the last of her mead. “They’re government. That’s their first reaction to everything. Try to keep it hush hush. If it’s truly as big as it seems, the secrecy won’t last long.”
“I guess I can hope, right? If I can’t report this stuff, my career isn’t going to go anywhere.” I find myself shivering. “I don’t want to wind up locked in a lab for the rest of my life getting poked and prodded and treated like the Roswell alien.”
She cackles. “You believe that? I know you work at a tabloid, but really?”
I give her the side eye. “You’re sitting here talking to a magic-wielding elf, and you’re telling me that Roswell is fake?”
“Fair
point. I’ll retract that to ‘probably fake.’”
“Ahem,” says Mr. Moody. “Food.”
“Okay, okay. Come on.” I get up and head to the kitchen, the speaking wundercat trailing at my heels.
Jade stretches and yawns. “Some women talk to their pussy. Never heard of one talking back.”
“You’re awful.” I snicker.
Mr. Moody perches by his bowl while I pop a can and dump it out. “If she tries to eat me, there will be blood.”
I gasp at my cat for making an awful Chinese joke.
Jade’s face darkens with blush and she lets out a cackle.
Oh. He meant eating… right. I blush.
“Would it kill you to try a variety?” He glances up at me. “You’ve been giving me the same ‘oven-roasted salmon’ flavor for three years. How about some turkey or chicken?”
Jade muffles her laughter with a small pillow.
“Okay. Except, I tried getting a different flavor once, and you didn’t touch it.”
Mr. Moody finishes his mouthful and peers up at me again. “Did it occur to you that the particular flavor you provided was ghastly? I’d rather lick my own posterior. It tastes better.”
“Oh, gross.”
An hour or two goes by filled with random chatter. As such things tend to do, we again gravitate toward the endlessly fertile topic of mutual not-quite-satisfaction with our current romantic partners, though while Jade wants desperately to keep things good with Paula, I’m catching myself thinking more and more about Andre. Still, I made a promise to myself that I’d focus on Diego. Then I start to wonder if my casual feelings toward sex come from being an elf? I suppose that would make sense; that is, if I had any idea what an elf was supposed to be like. Up until this morning, I didn’t believe they existed.
Jade heads home a little after eight with a ‘call me if you need to talk.’ I seem to be coping with my abduction okay. Honestly, they weren’t cruel about any of it, and I never felt genuinely trapped, thanks to Open. Soon, I’m sitting cross-legged on the couch, my t-shirt relegated to the ‘dirty-but-still-wearable’ pile, and listening to hang drum music I found on iTunes. Maybe I should order some incense while I’m at it…