“Alright then….what’s your plan,” he
asked.
“Well for the next day, we stay at the house,
you know, shelter in place. Grandpa did a good job securing it and
I have some help out there, especially when Greer gets back,” I
said. “After I talk to him, I want to see what my options are for
getting out of the area, what might be a safe spot to go to till
this gathering or whatever it is ends.”
“What about staying here? Two of us are more
capable than one!” he said.
“Yeah, well I don’t want to drag you into
it,” I said.
“Bullshit! Bullshit!” he spat out. “Your
mother and I were ‘in it’ the moment you were born. In it a second
time when Ashley was born! Maybe sheltering at home is okay for the
moment, but at the first sign of trouble you get your asses here!
Got it!”
“Dad, I don’t want Mom getting hurt!” I
objected.
“Listen to me, mister! Your mother has dealt
with death threats, drug gangs and PTA. We already talked about it
and she knows all about this, so you just get that line of crap
outta your head. We’re your parents….would you let Ashley deal with
this all on her own even if she was grown up? I don’t think
so!”
I hadn’t thought about it that way. If Ashley
was grown and in danger I would do everything in my power, spend
everything I had including my life, to help protect her. Mom and
Dad felt the same way about me. I suddenly felt like Sarah was
looking over my shoulder. It happens pretty regularly, at least
weekly since she died. I’m facing a problem or decision and
suddenly feel like she’s there, watching. Then I immediately try to
think how she would handle it or what her input would be. The
answers come quickly, not from anything supernatural, but just from
my own knowledge of my wife.
The answer came just as quickly this time. To
protect my daughter I should use everything and everyone I had
to.
Chapter 10
Ashley poked her head into the man space
about then and informed us that lunch was ready, giving us each a
questioning look. My daughter is observant and I could tell she had
picked up on my behavior as well as our body language. The look in
her eyes told me that we would be having a conversation in the car
on the way home and I had better come clean. Ashley and I have a
policy, one we created while rebuilding our lives after Sarah died.
We don’t keep important things from each other, no secrets.
Lunch was chicken salad sandwiches, chips,
pickles and homemade vegetable soup. Mom kept up a steady chatter
as we ate, while I mostly thought about what I would say in the
car.
“Ian, Ash tells me you met a young lady
today?” Mom suddenly threw my way.
I almost spit my diet soda all over the
table.
“Eirwen?” I looked at Ashley who was
grinning.
“Come on Dad, she’s gorgeous!”
“Yes, Ash, she’s a gorgeous
twenty-something year old
. Way, way too young for me,” I
answered, giving her a WTF look.
“Well, it’s just that I got a serious vibe
off her, you know, that’s she was very interested in you,” she
replied.
That absolutely couldn’t be right, we were
worlds apart in age and background. I was dumbfounded that Ashley
had even thought that way at all. I had my hands full with raising
her and trying to eke out a living, save something for her college
and rebuild our lives. Women were nowhere on my horizon.
“Yeah, not so much. She
might
like
some of the younger guys at the MMA dojo, but I’m afraid your radar
is off this time.”
My mom looked at me speculatively for a
moment then changed the subject, asking Ashley about her final
soccer game, which my parents had missed.
The rest of lunch dragged a little, slowed by
the invisible tension of the crazy, ridiculous danger hanging over
our heads. My father and I exchanged numerous glances, some of
which mom noticed, although Ashley didn’t appear to see any of it.
My brain kept slipping gears, leaving the conversation to think
about piranha toothed fairies, killer goblins and homicidal elves,
always returning to the central question….what was there about
Ashley that could draw them?
We finally finished up and got ready to
leave, a process made more difficult by my mother’s suddenly
obvious anxiety and overly affectionate hugging.
My father came up to me while I was putting
the box of booby traps and cameras in the back of the Toyota, his
arms full of butcher paper.
“Here, this is a bunch of meat from the
bottom of the chest freezer, stuff we just haven’t gotten to in the
last year or so. It should be fine to feed to the…the…you know,” he
said, suddenly at a loss for what to call them.
“Pucks, Dad. Greer calls them pucks.”
“Yeah, pucks. Listen, at the first sign of
trouble you get back here. Leave your car facing the road. Is the
gas tank full? Maybe you should take an extra gun?” he babbled,
uncharacteristically nervous.
“Dad, we’ll be okay. Got plenty of gas, I
always park facing the road, don’t need any more guns, and,
yes..we’ll come right here if needed.” I could see Ashley inside
the SUV craning around to watch my father and I, her expression
curious.
“Right, well, call me when you get home and
let me know everything is okay,” he ordered, his normal attitude
reasserting itself.
“I will,” I answered.
We had no sooner turned onto the main road
when Ashley turned to me, a determined set to her face, and
demanded, “Spill!”
I had known we would be having this
conversation; my daughter was just too sensitive to any changes in
our fragile lives. Despite that foreknowledge I still didn’t know
quite how to broach the subject. How do you tell your thirteen year
old daughter that the fairy tale monsters that lived under every
kid’s bed were real and that they did, in fact, want to steal
her
away in the night?
“Ash, I’m gonna tell you some things – things
that might make you doubt your Father’s sanity. But I promise you
that it’s all real, that your grandfather knows all about it and
even
he
believes it,” I began.
“Then, when we get home, I’ll show you proof.
Alright?”
“Dad you’re starting to scare me,” she
said.
“Well, I’m not going to lie to you, although
I’m really, really tempted to,” I said, glancing away from the road
to her face. Her wide eyes told me that she understood how serious
it was if I was tempted to lie to her.
Taking a deep breath, I started my story,
right at the beginning, with the possum carcass, Grandpa’s journal,
slowly working my way to Greer and the goblins in the forest.
“Dad, you’re serious?” she asked, when I got
done recounting the fight in the forest.
Instead of a verbal answer, I just pulled up
my sweatshirt on my right side, letting her see my holstered Sig. I
virtually never wore my gun anywhere, so the sight of it was as
uncharacteristic of me as my father being without a sidearm would
be.
She took a sharp breath in at the sight of my
handgun, but didn’t say anything else, so I continued on with the
tale. I told her how Greer had come back last evening, when she and
Lindsey had seen me talking with him at the point of a shotgun. And
again this morning in the barn. I told her what he told me – about
the world of Fairie, the two Courts, the Hunters and Guardians, and
the struggle for control of their world. How they had taken
children of Talent for untold centuries from this world and how our
own technology had created the opportunity for an even greater
invasion.
“Dad, if that was true, you would be calling
the police or the FBI or someone!”
“And tell them what? That elves, fairies and goblins were coming to
steal our children? How long would it take for Social Services to
arrive to cart you off?” I asked, ruthlessly applying one of our
greatest fears. My glance at her found un-spilled tears in her
eyes, her lip trembling. I pulled over immediately, set the hazard
lights flashing and hugged her hard.
“Listen, Ash, just because
I
can’t
call in the troops without sounding like a loony doesn’t mean we
aren’t working on it,” I said.
“Grandpa?” she asked, snuffing back her
tears.
“Who else do you know that can reach any
department in Homeland security from his cell?” I said.
“Dad is going to quietly see if there is
any
department that might possibly handle strange things
like this.”
“Like
Fringe?
” she asked.
“Well, this is certainly wacky even by that’s
show’s standard. In the meantime, you and I are going to lie low
and keep a watch on things, till Greer gets back.”
“But wait…if they only take kids with Talents
or ESP or whatever, they’ll ignore me right? So we got nothing to
worry about right?” she asked, suddenly hopeful.
I didn’t answer right away which was the
wrong way to answer.
“Dad? I don’t have any psychic powers or
anything so they should leave me alone?”
“Honey, Greer says that you do have some
ability of some sort, something that just hasn’t manifested yet,” I
answered, being truthful and hating myself for it. I could hear
Sarah’s voice from deep inside my brain, yelling, “
Are you
fucking stupid! Why would you tell her all that!”
She surprised me then, my daughter did, by
sitting up straight and wiping away her tears. “Well, he’s
obviously wrong then, because I failed the online psychic test that
Lindsey and I took. The only person’s mind I can ever read is
Lindsey’s and that’s just because I know her so well!” she said
with conviction.
“You may be right, but until then we have to
be very careful and watchful,” I said.
“Like you had to be growing up with grandma
and grandpa?”
“Yes, very much like that,” I agreed.
We continued on in silence till we pulled
into the driveway. The farmhouse and barn looked quiet in the early
afternoon sun. Ashley helped me unload the stuff from my father as
well as the packages from the farmers market and CVS. Charm
basically got under foot and barked excitedly at the meat she could
smell in the packages dad had given me.
Unlocking and disarming the house alarm
reassured me that it was all clear, backed up by Charm’s quick
inspection with her nose and ears. After putting the food away, I
grabbed the box of boobytraps, cameras and frozen meat, then called
Ashley to me.
“Come on, I want to show you something,” I
told her.
We marched out to the barn where I put most
of the meat into the chest freezer. Then I opened the last three
and put them on the floor in the middle of the room. Corralling
Ashley and Charm over to the doorway, I took a firm grip on Charm’s
collar then whistled my five note call.
“Hey that’s the music from
Close
Encounters of the Third Kind
!” Ashley said. What can I say, we
watch a lot of sci-fi in our house. For a moment nothing happened,
then a familiar dark blur sped into the room and alighted on the
side of the door frame, sharp talons gripping the barn wood with
ease.
“Ohh!” was Ashley’s response, her eyes as
wide as I’ve ever seen them.
“Ashley, meet Pancho,” I said. Pancho’s eyes
were as big as Ashley’s as the two looked each other over. Charm
growled at the little flyer, surging against the choke collar,
yanking my arm hard.
I admonished the powerful little dog, but she
ignored me, until Ashley turned, tapped one finger against the
dog’s nose and said “No!” Charm settled back with a whine, giving
her master a reproachful look.
The puck watched the byplay among us and then
made an impassioned little speech in his twittering voice, ending
it with a strange bow.
“Pancho, here’s some more food for your
hungry mouths as promised,” I said, pointing at the meat.
He looked where I pointed, finally noticing
the food, then made his silent screech, which had the effect of
making Charm whine and growl at the same time.
Seconds later, dark blurs filled the open air
and Ashley ducked behind my back reflexively. This time the pucks
alighted around the barn instead of immediately attacking the food.
The frenetic action slowed to just the rustle and whir of several
pairs of wings and the clan looked from their leader to me with
gleaming eyes. Ashley leaned back around me and gasped at the furry
little people arrayed around our barn. The pucks all locked their
gazes onto her and went motionless, big eyes widening even
further.
“Ash, these are pucks,” I said, immediately
realizing how obvious that already was. Such was my daughter’s
shock that I didn’t even get a “no duh!” look from her. The puck
family suddenly unfroze, all at the same time, rustling excitedly
and starting to come closer, which made me push Ashley behind me by
reflex. The little leader, Pancho, noted my actions and twittered
loudly, the effect of which was an immediate cessation of forward
motion by his troops. I nodded my thanks to him, my protective
reflexes not yet ready to let them all over her. I pointed to the
meat, but he just looked from me to Ashley, who was once more
peeking around my side.
“Ah, Ash, I think he’s waiting for you to
give the okay,” I suggested. She looked at me uncertainly, then
moved farther out from behind me and closer to the meat.
“Not too close, their feeding time gets
pretty violent!” I warned.
She froze her motion, then waved her hand to
include all the pucks and pointed at the meat.
“Go ahead, ah, dig in!” she said,
uncertainly.
Pancho gave her a tiny little bow, which the
rest of the clan immediately attempted to copy with varying degrees
of success. Then they hit the meat like a furry cyclone.
An astonishingly short period of time later
it was over. I wiped a tiny speck of spattered meat from Ashley’s
shocked, pale white cheek. “See what I mean?”