“I thought I’d get rid of you easily, Monster Hunter. But, no one could kill you, not the black elf and not the clown.”
“It’s hard to get good help these days,” I grunted, still pulling with all my weight, but it wasn’t enough, and I slipped. She got her one foot on the ground, executed a roll, hard to do in mid-air, and wrenched herself free. The force of her movement caused the three of us to fall on our rumps. It was hard to get back up, and I was so spent that I saw stars. I could tell the others felt the same.
The demonettes, on the other hand, had energy to spare. They did straddle jumps and urged Jacqueline on. “Fight! Fight! Go on, Jackie! Give it to them!”
Suddenly, a flying baby zoomed over our heads and shot both imps with nerf arrows. “Shut up! Zeus, you are annoying. And to think I was attracted to you.”
The demonettes’ eyes glazed over, and they blinked, blinked, and blinked again. When they cleared, both pairs of eyes settled on Rocko.
“Run! Rocko, run!” Rocko took one look at the demonettes, now cooing at the “big, handsome gorilla,” and raced off like a shot. The demonettes chased after him, shaking their stuff—all of it—promising a “hell of a good time,” because “once you’ve been with an imp, you’ll never go limp.”
Even Jacqueline gave a shudder at that, and I think she was secretly glad they were gone after they’d called her “Jackie.”
There wasn’t a soul on the battlefield that wasn’t injured, including me, bleeding from talon scrapes and battered all over. We couldn’t stop, though, because this had to end now. I readied my bat, flipped my palm, and said, “Bring it.”
She charged, head first, like a bull.
I swung, high and tight, aiming for the change-up, knowing she’d be sneaky about her approach. It was done. It was all but done. I could feel it.
I whirled around, off kilter, carried by my own momentum as my bat swished air. I couldn’t figure out what had happened. I was sure my aim was true. I stumbled and caught myself, a bronze wing stabilizing me.
Jacqueline was covered head-to-toe in Manischewitz wine. The piskies had snuck up behind her and sloshed the entire bucket on her, which they’d retrieved from the garage, and with her bleeding stump and the cracks in her armor, the wine sunk in.
“I’m melting! I’m melting!” she screamed, ripping off her armor, revealing her skin, which drippled like candle wax down her face and body.
“It was the same with the clown,” whispered Nathaniel, who’d snuck up behind me and wrapped me in his arms. I choked back a tired laugh, remember the evil clown from the birthday party.
The French vampire nun liquefied a drop at a time. She used her remaining hand to catch her nose as it sloughed off, her cheeks sliding down her neck in molten rivers of tissue.
It was easily one of the grossest things I’d ever witnessed, and Gothskie, who’d come to sit on my shoulder, covered her eyes.
Suddenly, Pascal scrambled up, his neck still askew but healed enough that he could stand, grabbed his sister’s arm, and leapt for the sky, using the last dregs of his strength to fly his sister to safety. I lunged for him but missed. “No! No! They’re getting away! Blaze!”
Before Blaze could take off, two voices ordered, “Incoming! Get down!” We all dropped, even Cupid, as a fireball split the sky, enveloped the airborne vampires, and seared the night with a dazzling flash of white. There was no time for the vampires to course correct, and they sizzled like firecrackers.
A blinding light exploded above us with a crack of sound that reverberated, pummeling our ears. I actually bent over and threw up, such was the force of the sound wave. Nathaniel had done the same. The thunderous sound dissipated on a wave, up and down, fading slowly, and as our vision returned, the evening was suddenly silent.
Something hit my eyelashes, and I blinked, as ash fluttered from the sky and landed on our faces. The distinct smell of charcoal tinged the air. That’s all that was left of the two vampires.
I turned my head, and there was a grinning Officer Bob and Captain Morgan, the two of them working together to hold a rocket launcher, both with headphones on to muffle the sonic boom. Bob gave me a wink and removed his headphones.
“When Nathaniel called asking if we had a cannon, I contacted the captain.” I squinted at him and pointed to my ears.
Captain Morgan placed his end of the rocket launcher on the ground and helped Officer Bob do the same. They walked closer to me, so I had a chance of hearing. Morgan smacked his hands together in satisfaction.
“Always wanted to use one of those,” he said. I read his lips.
“How?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t yelling. I couldn’t hear myself. I motioned for him to hold on. I shook my head, pinched my nose and blew. All of a sudden, my hearing popped back. It was like a bridge had given way and the sound crashed in.
The others followed my example.
“I can hear you now, Captain.” My voice was weak and my throat sore.
Morgan smiled, and his eyes sparkled. “Called in a favor from the National Guard. We don’t have a cannon, but I thought this might do.”
“It did great, Captain. It was exactly what we needed, and in the nick of time. Thank you. I’m shocked they let you have it.”
“They said they owed us for handling the were-gorilla alone. Most of the Guard heard about the whole zoo debacle on TV and guessed that there was more to the story. I got a lot of free beer that night.”
I gave them both big hugs, which I had to release as a silverback gorilla tore through the yard, two red naked imps chasing after him, screeching like teens at a boy band concert. “Come on, Rocko! We want to monkey around!”
I stomped my foot. “He’s an ape! Not a monkey!”
Officer Bob cocked his head, one hand on his chin. “Female imps?”
I nodded. “Zric’s sisters.”
“Don’t see that every day.”
“True fact.”
“Why are they chasing Rocko?”
I gestured to the cherub, whose back was to us, thankfully, so Officer Bob couldn’t see that it was a cherub in a Daniel exterior. All he could see were the wings. “Cupid got sick of them and hit them with nerf arrows. Rocko was the first creature they saw.”
He considered that for a moment. “Why is Rocko wearing ribbons?”
“The piskies did it to say they were sorry for attacking him with their tiny swords.”
“Interesting. His fur has never looked so luxurious.”
“That’s what I said!” We fist-bumped.
Captain Morgan studied us with deep concern. “Well, Mrs. Friedman, if you could do us the favor of returning Rocko to the zoo, that would be appreciated.”
I pointed at the wolf and said, “Shura will get him back.” Shura lifted her snout and gave a tired howl of agreement.
“Most excellent. We’ll take our leave now. Is it fair, Mrs. Friedman, to suppose that with the death of both vampires, everything will go back to normal?”
I looked him right in the eye. “Of course, Captain. I expect things to go back to normal.”
“Good.” He patted me on the shoulder, and he and Officer Bob hoisted the rocket launcher, heading back to a monster truck they’d used to transport it. They covered the weapon with a blue tarp so they wouldn’t cause panic on the road.
Officer Bob mouthed to me as we left, “Whatever normal means.”
I tapped my nose and pointed at him.
There was only one hanging chad, and that was what to do about the imps. I called out to Rocko to run our way. The poor gorilla was beat after running all that time and loped in on all fours, beads and bows astray, looking as bedraggled as a kitten in the rain. The imps still chased after him, but they also looked a little worse for wear.
I tossed one end of my jump rope to Blaze, and we held it low on the ground so Rocko ran right over it. We lifted it to knee height and caught the imps around the neck. We lowered it a tiny bit, not wanting to choke the living daylights out of them, and wrapp
ed them up. I held both ends in my hands and couldn’t help myself.
“You will tell me the truth,” I said, tossing my imaginary black mane of hair.
Sorry, you look nothing like Wonder Woman.
“Not nice, Blaze! I can dream, can’t I?”
Oh, certainly. Dream. Fantasize. Visualize the impossible.
“Ouch. Well, you look nothing like Fawkes in Harry Potter, either.”
Blaze waved his wing back and forth. Tiny bird, tiny…
“Wings? Feet?”
Blaze winked at me.
“Ick.”
The demonettes were quiet, no cheering, or jumping, or pom-poms. They leaned against each other, back-to-back, holding one another up, they were so tired. Still naked, still bountiful, still red all over, but exhausted as well.
“Will you two go back to Hell and leave us alone?”
“Yes,” they intoned.
“Excellent.” I unwrapped the rope. “Cupid, will you please?”
Cupid didn’t even look. He shot two arrows over his shoulder, each with suction cup tips. I have no idea where they came from, and I’m not going to mention where they landed.
Blaze grunted. Priceless shot.
I clapped my hand to my forehead, Shura’s tongue lolled out, and Nathaniel smothered a laugh. Rocko collapsed to the ground and curled up in the grass.
The demonettes each pulled an arrow off their chests with an audible pop and sighed.
“Let’s go,” said one to the other, and they turned to walk into the woods to go back however they came. Their receding backs sagged in failure. But, before hitting the trees, one of them whirled around, a gleam in her eye. “We’ll be back.”
The other whirled too. “Soon, you’ll see.”
Demonette Number One added, “You’ll remember your life belongs to me.”
“To us,” said Number Two.
“To us,” said Number One, who then used a finger to draw a circle of burning flame in the air, and they both hopped through.
Chapter Fourteen
Gothskie organized a triage and attended the injured. She knelt by one particular piskie and let out a cry. The piskies gathered around, their wings drooping, tears the size of grapes falling to the kitchen table.
“What happened?” I asked, fearing the worst.
Gothskie choked out one sentence. “Our leader has fallen. Elowen is dead.”
“I’m…I’m…so sorry.” Guilt washed through me.
Gothskie shook her head. “It is not your fault.”
I couldn’t speak, I was so choked up.
“If it is okay with you, we’d like to bury her with your irises.”
“I’d be honored.” Nathaniel nodded as well, his face wan, tired, and sad. “She lived her life with purpose. She fell as a warrior.”
We made a processional to the front yard, including piskies that had to be hand-carried due to injuries. Elowen was laid to rest in the middle of my iris bed, and it was then that I learned why a group of piskies was called a chorus.
Their voices rose through the early morning light as dawn was approaching. It was a sound unlike any I had ever heard, a heavenly sound, a song of love and loss, of respect, and sadness. It was haunting, and beautiful, and I’d never forget it.
Afterward, the piskies informed me that they would be back in the future to tend to the iris beds, but now, they wanted to go home.
Lowena and Gothskie hovered in front of me, and I inclined my head to them both, and then to the whole group. “Thank you, my friends. You are small but fierce fighters with big hearts. We would have lost this night without you.”
They acknowledged my statement and departed, some supporting the casualties, others silently weeping, all sad beyond reason. There was a heaviness in our hearts and we ached for them, and no one knew what to do next.
Nathaniel got us moving, focusing on the most important thing.
“Cupid, shoot those people now, and get the hell out of my son’s body.”
Cupid nodded, his wings drooping after the funeral. “Death and love go together, sometimes,” he commented. “But I prefer life.” I gave his hand a squeeze, and we all went inside.
I was so glad the Parent Teacher Association photographer wasn’t there, or anyone with a camera, in fact. The six adults lay in a naked puppy pile in the middle of our living room, a mess of tangled arms, legs, and other body parts that shall go nameless. I will say that Dany’s mother was a very lucky lady under normal circumstances.
“Do we know where their clothes are?” I asked.
Blaze hopped up, rounded the couch, and kicked out a pile of clothes with his giant Tweety feet.
“Let’s get them dressed before Cupid wakes them,” I said, so we all grabbed limbs and clothes, trying to match sizes in a way that worked. Dressing magically sleeping grown-ups isn’t easy. It’s like dressing a five-foot tall or six-foot tall rag doll. Floppy in all the wrong places, and I do mean, floppy.
I dressed Josh, Debby’s father, the widower who had spent his night making nookie with Abby’s mom, Lisa, the divorcée. I shoved his underwear under the couch, because really, I wasn’t dealing with that, and pulled on a pair of jeans, making Nathaniel do the button-fly. I got a shirt on him, found two socks, they didn’t match, but I couldn’t care, and heaved him onto the long couch.
Next, I dressed Lisa, grabbing a bra that looked appropriately sized, shrugged when it was too small, and shimmied her ample bottom into a pair of sweats that I thought had to be hers. The underwear that I thought went with them was shredded, so I pushed them under the couch as well.
Eventually, all concerned were wearing clothes and positioned in comfortably distant positions throughout the room. I pointed at Cupid, and he notched his bow.
The first one flew, then the second, and he continued firing in rapid succession until all the parents woke, stretching and yawing.
“What happened?” asked Lisa, looking down at her décolletage, more bountiful than usual because I’d given her the wrong bra.
“Everyone! What a great time we had last night, didn’t we?” I announced, clapping my hands. “Coffee? Orange juice? Vodka martini, Josh?” I winked at the baffled man.
“I…I…don’t usually drink,” he stammered.
I gave him a clap on the back. “You wouldn’t have known it from last night.” I jolted to the kitchen. “Be right back with that coffee.”
By the time I made it back, Sammy’s mom was awake, wiggling her butt as she realized she wasn’t wearing any panties. “What happened to my…” She trailed off, not wanting to say it aloud. “I could have sworn I wore…” She gave up.
Dany’s dad, who’d done the tango with her all night, extended his arms way above his head. “I feel so relaxed,” he commented. “Nathaniel, what did you give us last night?”
Nathaniel stammered something unintelligible, exhaling with relief when Dany’s dad said, “Never mind. Whatever it was, it was good stuff.” He rolled onto the floor, snoring.
Sammy’s dad stared at Dany’s mom with a strange look on his face, his eyes scrunched together. Dany’s mom rolled her shoulders like she had a kink in her neck to avoid looking at him, confused and disoriented. She ventured to her feet, looked at her chest, and did a little jump of surprise, quickly turning to fix her blouse.
Rocko wasn’t so great with buttons. I should have double-checked.
Sammy’s dad pushed himself out of the rocking chair and held out his hand to his wife. “Dear, how about we get some of that coffee Jess is offering.” Still patting at her butt, mystified by the missing underwear, she gave a short little jerk of her chin and took his hand. I offered both coffee and pointed to the creamer and sugar.
Lisa accepted a cup, motioned for another, added a teaspoon of sugar, no creamer, and handed it to Josh, who sipped it without a thought. “Perfect. Just the way I like it. Thanks, hon.” They froze for a moment, both wondering how that had happened, but before they asked questions, the pitter-patter of many
feet bounded up the stairs.
Five girls, hair askew with ribbons and bows hanging from every end, tumbled up the stairs and blew through the door.
“Wow! We had a real sleep-over!” said Dany, running to give her mom a hug. “Thanks for letting us stay all night.”
“No problem, sweetheart. Glad you had a good time.” Dany’s mom did an excellent job of covering her confusion with the situation, and I could see the other parents buying in.
Sammy’s dad hoisted his happy daughter into his lap. “You seem well-rested. I’m shocked you girls got so much sleep.”
“I feel great!” Sammy announced, and then scrunched her nose at her dad. “You smell funny. That’s not Mommy’s perfume.”
“Girls! Breakfast!” Nathaniel to the rescue. Meanwhile, I flicked my eyes around to see where everyone else was. Cupid sat on top of the tallest bookshelf, and since no one looked up, they missed him. Blaze had left the house and reassumed his pony disguise. Shura curled up in a sunbeam, appearing for all the world like a dog taking a snooze, as long as you didn’t notice her teeth.
Rocko hid behind the tall, skinny floor lamp, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders hunched up around his neck, legs pressed together. His ribbons and bows were still hanging from him in drips and drabs. I tugged at my earlobe, mentally selecting and discarding reasons for having a bedazzled gorilla in my living room.
“What an interesting gorilla lamp!” commented Dany’s dad, who’d woken up and was laying on the carpet. “You really shouldn’t have let the artist put bows in the gorilla’s fur. It is totally unrealistic.”
Dany’s mom, completely recovered, added, “I don’t know. There is something wonderfully reductive about it. I think it is a clever commentary on modern society’s conquest of the primitive world.”
Lisa also chimed in. “I see it as an observation of the essential, undeveloped primeval universe in which we still live, despite all our advances, and how we struggle to move through it, hiding our basic selves under fripperies.”
Josh studied his shoes.
Dany’s dad climbed to his feet. “Now, as I study it, I’m amazed by the detail on the fur, and the face. Fascinatingly derivative.”
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