We found a place to watch easily enough. Unlike typical school stadia, this one, used by a pro team with the university only renting use, did not also include facilities for track and field and other sports. It was purely a football stadium. Sure, they’d use it for other activities—conventions and car shows and what have you—but there were no high jump and pole vault landing pads and no track. A football field, pure and simple.
A couple of dozen men, the smallest of which would have made two of me, were running around the outer edge of the field. On the center, two groups lined up across from each other. They weren’t wearing the full padded gear I had seen football players wear, just the shoulder pad and helmets, but enough that I could not spot Jeff in the crowd. He was not among those running laps.
“There he is!” Becki pointed.
I followed the direction of her finger with my gaze, toward the double line of men facing each other near the center of the field. I could not identify Jeff among them but then I caught the name on the back of one of the Jersey’s. “Nylund”.
“Where’s Jeff?” I asked.
“I don’t...”
A sharp whistle split the air. The double line of men bent and crouched facing each other while men on each side took clearly planned positions. I heard one of the men shouting something. From the distance I could not make out the words. Then the men exploded into motion. Since I did not see Jeff, I watched Chuck as he shoved forward past his opposite number in the line. Once through, he charged across a short open area to collide with a somewhat smaller player. Chuck and the other player tumbled to the ground, Chuck landing on top. I winced in sympathy at the violence of that impact.
Another whistle and the running men slowed to walking, then turned and started to converge toward a tall, rather rotund, man on the near sideline. From where we sat, I could not see his face, but I could see that he wore glasses.
Chuck stood and held his hand toward the man on the ground. The man slapped the hand aside and rolled to his knees, then rose to his feet as Chuck turned and walked away.
The other partner in the collision unsnapped the strap on his helmet, jerked the helmet off his head and threw it to the ground. As the helmet came off, I recognized Jeff.
“Pierce, what is your problem?” The rotund man shouted. Despite the distance, I could hear him clearly. That man knew how to pitch his voice to carry.
“You said light contact, Coach,” Jeff shouted back. “What the hell was that?”
Although I could not hear them I could see several of the players start muttering. The coach blew three times on his whistle then shouted. “Everyone hit the showers.”
The players started filing toward one end of the field. Jeff scooped up his helmet, then turned to join them.
“Not you, Pierce,” the coach shouted. “Right here. Right now.”
Grumbling, Jeff stalked in the direction of the coach.
I laid a hand on Becki’s arm. “We should probably head out. Jeff’s probably not going to want us to stick around to hear him getting chewed out.”
#
Jeff and Chuck emerged from the stadium together.
“...the hell were you thinking?” Jeff was shouting.
“Hey, I didn’t see you.” The smirk on Chuck’s face only added to the distrust that his oily words evoked.
“Didn’t see, my ass,” Jeff continued to shout, although at somewhat reduced volume.
Chuck leaned back and looked down. “Well, now that you mention it, it is a lovely ass indeed.”
Jeff stopped. His eyes narrowed. His right hand balled into a fist.
“Jeffrey Pierce, don’t you dare!”
Jeff’s face tightened at his sister’s words but he did not move.
“And Chuck, you need to apologize right now.”
Chuck looked down the steps at Becki, his smirk broadening. “Whatever you say, babe.” He turned back to Jeff and shrugged. “Sorry. That last was out of line.”
Jeff drew in deep breath, held it for a moment, then blew it out through his nose. “Yeah, whatever, dude.”
Jeff muttered something as he descended the last of the steps to the street.
“What was that?” Chuck asked.
“Nothing.”
Chuck trotted down the remaining stairs and clapped Jeff on the shoulder. “Look. Accidents happen. You’ve just got to toughen up.”
Jeff’s eyes narrowed again. “I’ll show you...”
“Jeff!” Becki snapped.
Jeff sighed. “Sorry.”
“Let’s just go grab dinner, okay?” Becki said. “Where we going?”
Jeff and Chuck looked at each other and grinned, their argument apparently forgotten as fast as it had occurred.
“My car’s this way,” Chuck said, pointing.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I should have known. While there were several restaurants two young college football players could have chosen, one stood at the top of the list. A national chain noted for wait staff uniforms that featured short-shorts and scoop neck tank tops.
My hormones work just fine, thank you. I don’t just look my late teens or early twenties; the elixir restores me physically to that age. I’ve had plenty of time to get over the imprinting left over from the century in which I grew up. I could appreciate a well-crafted human form, male or female. I just prefer to concentrate on one at a time. When I’m with company, I prefer to concentrate on the company and not on the...distractions around me.
“I just don’t get it,” Jeff said. “I’m good. You know I’m good. But why won’t Coach Ata put me in?”
I sat by the wall in the booth, Jeff sat next to me. Chuck sat directly across from me, with Becki taking the outside seat. Apparently the modest display of feminine skin had worked some magic on Jeff and Chuck to defuse their argument.
Chuck reached across the table and swatted Jeff lightly on the head. “He’s got his reasons. Look, he’s having some of us over Saturday for a team-building exercise and...”
Jeff twisted in his seat and stared at Chuck. “And why haven’t I heard about this?”
“You’re hearing about it now,” Chuck said. “Don’t talk about it to anybody else. Coach Ata wants to keep it quiet for now.”
“The first rule of the Football Club is 'Don’t talk about the Football Club'?”
Chuck nodded. “Something like that.”
“So,” I said to Becki. “What do you think of the weather we’ve been having?”
Becki grinned. “I think it’s been quite weatherly, and I expect we’ll have even more weather in the coming months.”
I returned Becki’s grin. Jeff and Chuck stared at us as if we were mad, their heads swiveling as they turned to look at first one, then the other of us.
After a long pause, Jeff said softly, “Enough football?”
“Enough football,” Becki agreed.
The food, when it came, was okay. Not great, but okay, and a bit high-priced for what we got. I had a burger with a side salad rather than the ubiquitous fried potatoes. Becki had a Caesar salad. Jeff and Chuck had two burgers each, big ones with half a pound of beef each, and then piled high with bacon, cheese, tomato, lettuce, pickles, and various condiments. Then there were the large piles of fried potatoes on their plates.
And they were talking about deserts.
Made me ill just to look at them.
Okay, both of them were huge next to me, but how could they eat that much? I was probably going to be taking home part of my sandwich.
I set my burger down and took a sip from my soft drink. “How are your classes going?” I asked Becki.
“Great, thanks to your tutoring,” she said, eliciting a scowl from Chuck. “Once I understood the calculus, a lot of the rest of it started falling into place.”
“How about you, Jeff,” I said. “I never really asked what you’re studying.”
“Business Administration,” Jeff said. “And I’m doing all right.”
“Chuck?” I turned in hi
s direction, interrupting a deeper scowl that he quickly wiped away when he saw me looking at him.
“Kinesiology,” he said shortly.
“Kinesiology? What’s that?” I knew the term, of course, but the young college student I was pretending to be would not.
“Fancy term for physical education,” Jeff said.
“Jeff!” Becki sputtered.
Chuck just laughed. “The major doesn’t matter. The NFL won’t care and I can just invest what I make and be set for life once my career is over. Hey, might even take up acting. Others have.”
Jeff shook his head. “Sure you will. Problem is that no matter how good you are in college, the odds of making a professional career are pretty slim. That’s why I’ve got a fallback plan.”
“And that’s your problem on the team,” Chuck said. “You’re not serious, not committed.”
“That has nothing to do...”
“No. More. Football.” Becki said.
Jeff looked chagrined. Chuck just shrugged.
The conversation turned to more innocuous subjects until the two giants had their desert, Jeff having a big slab of chocolate cake while Chuck inhaled two big pieces of cheesecake covered with caramel and chocolate fudge.
Becki looked green as the two men ate.
Finally, the server brought the check. I had ordered modestly not just because of the size of the portions but because I was expecting Jeff to pay for mine and I didn't want to strain his budget. To my surprise, though, Chuck took the entire check and paid with cash, leaving a generous tip.
I boxed up the remaining half of my burger to take home and accepted Chuck’s offer of a ride back to my apartment.
#
In my apartment I checked the progress of the elixir. The lesser elixir was nearly ready to cover any minor injuries or illnesses. The full elixir would still take several months.
The furnace had completed its cycle and I removed the salt of magnesium. It wasn't what chemists would call a salt of magnesium, not magnesium bound to an anion, rather it was the alchemical salt extracted from metallic magnesium. Chemistry would claim that such a salt does not exist, but there it was.
I was breaking new ground here. I knew of no one who had used magnesium alchemically this way.
I poured the salt into a ceramic mortar, picked up a pestle, and began to grind. When I had a fine powder, I scooped it from the mortar into a foil pan. Weight is weight, whether in alchemy or chemistry and I had a nice electronic balance to weigh the salt of magnesium. I jotted the weight in my notebook. I kept all my notes by hand, none on the computer, and in code to keep them safe from prying eyes. I then transferred the salt to a flask. Holding the flask up, I added the mercury of magnesium I had prepared in advance. Drop by drop, counting what I thought would be the appropriate amount for the salt.
When the last drop struck the mixture began to glow, a cold blue light that quickly brightened then faded, leaving me blinking at purple spots. A glittery powder remained in the flask.
I set the flask down and glanced at the clock. I just had time to get to my required English class.
I hated these modern English classes. The subject had changed in the last hundred years. Oh, the English language had not changed that much. Slang comes and slang goes. People coin new words to deal with new things. Old words fall out of fashion, but the core of the language remains. What had changed was the presentation. I swear, these classes are designed to make people hate picking up a book or attempting to write something for others to read.
But the school required the class, and a passing grade in it, to award the degree I needed to pursue the next couple of decades. I had to put up with it.
You would think after the many, many times I had to spend years on some unpleasant task I would be used to it but in truth I find it just as annoying as when I was really was nineteen.
I packed up my equipment and closed the blackout curtains before heading out the door. I had a brisk walk ahead of me, but the weather seemed to be pleasant, for now at least. The weather application on my phone predicted storms, but not for a while yet.
#
The weather application was wrong. Rain started to fall when I was halfway back to the apartment and soon picked up to a heavy downpour.
I spotted an awning over the entrance to a more upscale apartment building and dashed for it. I set my backpack on the stone step and wiped water out of my eyes. I leaned against the wall next to the door to wait out the rain. It had the look of a cloudburst that would not last long.
While I waited a man with an umbrella approached from the direction of a parking garage. Once he reached the shelter of the awning he gave me a quizzical look as he folded the umbrella. I tilted my head to the side and back, indicating the rain above us. The man nodded, then went through the door.
The sky darkened. A flicker of light was followed a few seconds later by a peal of thunder. I pulled out my phone and called up the weather app. Still claiming another hour of cloudy before it would start to rain.
I sighed and put the phone away.
A car, a familiar looking red Toyota slowed, then stopped in front of the awning. The window slid down and I saw Chuck sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Adrian? That you?”
I stood and waved.
“Got caught, huh?” He reached a hand through the window and beckoned. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”
I don’t know why Chuck raised my hackles. He seemed a nice enough guy if, perhaps, a little more possessive of Becki than was common in the modern day. Still, something about him just irritated me.
Nevertheless, a ride is a ride. Over the years I’ve certainly faced far worse than a walk home through a rainstorm but riding home in comfort had much to recommend it. I grabbed my backpack and trotted out to the car, circling to get to the passenger side door.
“What brings you out?” Chuck asked as I dropped my backpack into the footwell and fastened the seatbelt. “I expected someone like you would be hitting the books.”
“Like me?”
Chuck grinned as he put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. “You know, studious type. Never parties. One of those science-type degrees.”
“Late English class,” I said. “That should fit your notions of me nicely.”
Chuck laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re such a nerd. If you weren’t you wouldn’t be able to help Becki.”
There was an edge to his town with that last sentence that alerted me.
“Are you...jealous?” The words were out before I could stop them.
“Jealous? Of a runt like you? Don’t be ridiculous.” He eyed me sideways. “Why? Do I have reason to be?”
I raised my hands. “Not at all. Just friends.”
Chuck nodded. “See that you keep it that way.”
I bit my tongue, quite literally, to suppress my urge to suggest that that would be up to Becki.
Okay, I had to admit to myself that I liked her. A lot. Maybe that was another reason for me to leave, even this soon. Difficult to go underground these days, but that wasn’t the same as impossible. I might have to leave the US, one of the nicer places I’ve lived. But then, most places would be nicer than thirteenth century Westphalia. I would manage.
What I would not manage would be having another attachment that the Shadows could use against me.
Chuck made small talk while driving back to the apartment. I answered mostly with monosyllables but he seemed to neither care nor even notice. We soon reached the apartment building and Chuck pulled up to the curb in front of the house.
“It was nice talking to you,” Chuck said as I unbuckled. “We’ve got to get together again sometime.”
“Sounds good,” I lied.
I opened the door and stepped out of the car. Chuck grabbed my wrist, clamping tight, as I bent to pick up my backpack.
“You see you do a good job tutoring Becki,” he said. “When she does well in her classes, she’s happy. An
d when she’s happy, I’m happy. Don’t make me unhappy.”
I forced a smile. “I won’t.”
He released me and I rolled my wrist to relieve the tingle left by his grip. I grabbed the backpack and slammed his car door behind me before dashing up the stairs into the apartment building.
Definitely time to leave.
#
In my room I grabbed the larger of my two suitcases and started throwing clothes into it, not much, just a couple of changes until I got some temporary arrangements made. The clothes mostly served as padding.
I inspected the shelf where I kept my alchemy supplies. I picked up the flask of my partially made elixir. This would have to come since I did not want to have to start over. I stoppered the flask and used a wire tie to secure the plug in place.
I wrapped the flask in a sweater to protect it and stuffed it into the suitcase. I looked longingly at the furnace, but a suitcase for taking a weekend trip home would not draw attention. Major packing would.
At last, I climbed up on a small step-stool to remove a lockbox from the very back of the top shelf of my closet. The box contained gold, transmuted from fishing weights and bits of costume jewelry.
I had just set the lockbox on the nightstand when I heard someone knocking on my door.
Nervous, I checked my pocket to ensure that my magnesium flare was still there, then left the bedroom, closing the door behind me.
The pounding at the door increased in volume, underscoring the impatience of whoever was there.
“All right, all right,” I shouted. “I’m coming.”
I found Jeff waiting outside the door.
“Yes?” I asked.
“I hate to bother you,” Jeff said, “but I got a call from the hospital. Darryl’s awake.”
I nodded. “And you need a ride?”
"I do." He opened his eyes wide and folded his hands under his chin, a position that looked utterly ridiculous on someone his size. “Sorry?”
I looked back over my shoulder at the closed door to the bedroom.
“Let me grab a jacket and my keys.”
We found Becki waiting at the foot of the stairs.
Jeff called her name in surprise but I just shook my head. Of course she was there. I opened the exit door. “You coming?”
Alchemy of Shadows Page 6