The Box Omnibus #1 (The Box, The Journal, The Sword) (2 page)

“
He’s
not real. He’s not
real
. He’s
not
real.”

I glance back over at the table where the tiny man paces back and forth, his eyes always on me. No matter how I say it, I can’t make the words true.

I can’t stay here. Not with my adrenalin racing through me telling me to move.

“I’ve got to go,” I say.

His eyes widen in alarm and he stops in his tracks.

“Go? Go where? Why do you have to go?”

“I’ll be back,” I promise. “I’m going to get Mom. She’ll figure this out.”

“Great,” I hear him grumble as I leave the room. “She needs her mother’s help.”

I run down the stairs with no thought in my head other than the need to get away from my bedroom. Reality hits me when I get to the main floor and I’m forced to stop. What am I going to say? How can I possibly explain this to Mom without sounding crazy? Maybe I want to tell her all about it and have her say how insane I am and then this will all be over. It might take some therapy, but I can live with that.

“Hello, Lou.”

I jump and spin in the same motion, my arms automatically moving up to block the incoming punch. My eyes focus on a tall slim man who would almost be attractive if it weren’t for the dead look in his eyes and a more cruel than pleasant smile. I play off my crazy reaction to his greeting by moving my hands up and through my long black hair. He makes no sign of noticing my strange behavior.

“How are you doing? Still breaking hearts?”

The anxiety I’d hoped would disappear once I’d found someone to help increases as he stares, and I have to force my hand to stop shaking. I don’t know why but I can’t let him see how worked up I am.

“I’m fine,” I say.

Mr. Anderson, or Stewart as he prefers to be called, is Mom’s ‘special friend.’ He’s been coming over a lot lately, ever since Mom and I had a talk where I cheerfully told her I was fine with the whole thing. Never mind what I wanted to tell her was he’s creepy and we should move so he can’t find us. But he makes Mom happy, which is what matters. It’s weird though, Mom never mentioned about him coming tonight. Usually she gives me a bit of warning.

“Ah, Lou, there you are.”

I don’t jump when Mom comes up behind me, but I’m only barely able to stop myself. She puts a hand on my shoulder which feels cool through my shirt.

She notices the difference in temperature too. “Are you well? You’re not getting sick are you?”

“What? No. I was doing some stretches. Just worked up a bit of a sweat I guess. Hey, is supper done? I’m starving.”

“Supper is almost done, yes. Would you mind helping me?”

The look she gives as we walk back to the kitchen tells me she’s as surprised as I am to find him here. Though, her reaction to his visit is much happier than mine. She keeps fluffing her short, curly hair and adjusting the wide belt around her small waist in nervous excitement.

I set the “good” dishes Mom hands me, and take my seat. My foot taps nervously on the dark tile floor until the others finally come in. Stewart sits down in his spot at the round table while Mom hurries to serve the food.

“Where’s Cindy today?” Stewart asks in a chummy voice. “Off on some wild escapade, I suppose.”

I ignore the crawling feeling running down my spine while he talks and force a smile of my own.

“I don’t know.”

I never know unless she’s home, then the shouting between her and Mom is
a pretty good indication she’s here.

The smell of food is strong in the kitchen as Mom hurries around banging pots to look much busier than she actually is. Part of me wants to be excited about the honey glazed chicken she serves us since it’s my favorite, but all I can think about is the guy on the nightstand upstairs. I need to ask Mom about it. She
has
to know how to fix this.

“Mom.” I interrupt the conversation she’s having with Stewart. “About the box of Gran’s stuff...”

No. I can’t do it. I can’t reveal how crazy I am, not in front of her boyfriend. I look first at Mom who’s startled by the subject and then at Stewart who stares at me in undisguised interest. Why is he looking at me like that? I thought there was something off about him before, but this is unnerving.

“I’m going to move it to the other side of the closet. So I have some room for my costume when I get it at the rehearsal tomorrow.”

Her expression relaxes as she says, “Of course, sweetie. Whatever you need.”

My forced smile drops the moment I hear a noise upstairs. At first I think I’m imagining things until Mom grits her teeth and glances up at the ceiling.

“Cindy must be sneaking in. That girl has never figured out how to use the front door.”

“Excuse me,” I say as I leap to my feet and rush back up the stairs.

Cindy sneaking into the house isn’t anything new. Usually I ignore the fact it’s my window she crawls in through. There’s no simple way up into her room and there’s a huge tree next to mine, so I can understand why she does it. And it’s easier to ignore her than fight every day to get her to stop, especially since she never would.

This time’s different. What will she do if she sees the mini guy? Worse, what if she doesn’t see him and throws her purse onto the table, squishing him instantly? I have to move faster.

My eyes are instantly drawn to my sister’s short, bright red, spiky hair as I burst through the door. Last time I saw her, it was green, so I’m thrown for a couple of seconds. Then I realize her tongue is down some guy’s throat while his hands are all over her ass.

I should have known. Cindy would never make so much noise sneaking in on her own.

Cindy’s guy breaks away from her mouth and gives me an accusing stare. “Ya mind?”

What does she see in him? It’s not like he’s hot, especially not with the tattoos covering his arms and the big
wonking bar through his nose. Mom would hate him instantly, of course. Was there any other type of guy Cindy would bring home?

“My little sister, Lou,” Cindy says. “Don’t worry about her, she likes to watch.”

My face goes bright red. I’m only a year younger, and I do
not
like to watch. I have no interest in watching. In fact, if they weren’t in
my
room where I’m hiding a miniature man...

Table. Miniature man. Without thinking, I throw myself forward, placing myself between the couple and the table. The move brings me uncomfortably close to them.

“I think she wants to do more than watch,” tattoo guy says. He looks me over from head to toe with an appraising look. “I’m game if you are, Sin. I’ve never done a cheerleader type before.”

“
Ew.”

Usually Cindy would react with some rude joke and lead the guy off to her own room, but she doesn’t say a word. She stares at me while reading my face, which I keep down.

“Hey, Jazz,” she says after a minute. “I’m going to have to cut tonight short.”

She pats his chest more like she’s shoving him back toward the window than being affectionate.

He laughs. “Come on Sin, I’ve heard you’re many things, but never a tease.”

“I’ve got to deal with family stuff. Sorry, man. Next time, all right?” Not waiting until he leaves, she turns back to me and glares. “What are you hiding?”

I glance over at Jazz who stares at Cindy for a minute while he tries to work out what happened. For a second I’m sure he’s going to be pissed enough to refuse to leave, but finally he snorts, calls her a few names and climbs out the window.

“Seriously, Lou. What the hell is wrong with you? You look like your head’s about to explode.”

“It’s nothing. Just go.”

I grab her shoulder and start to guide her toward the exit, but she knocks my hand away.

“Screw that. What are you hiding? Did you steal something from me? Is that what this is about?”

She tries to peek around my left side, but the second I lean with her to keep myself in front of the table she dodges to my right and tries to push past me. I manage to stop her from getting by, but I can’t stop her seeing. And since I don’t keep anything on the table the guy can hide behind, there’s no way she doesn’t spot him.

“Holy hell,” she whispers in awe as her thickly lined eyes widen to almost perfect circles. “It’s a miniature person.”

My attempt to get her out of the room is thwarted when she doesn’t budge. If I work hard enough, I can probably get her out, but I’m afraid of hurting her, so I don’t push too hard. 

“It’s not what it looks like. He’s a figurine I found. It’s plastic or something.”

“You’re a real, miniature person,” she says while completely ignoring me and my explanation. “How are you here?” Before he has a chance to say anything, she turns on me and jabs a finger into my shoulder. “What did you
do
?”

“I didn’t
do
anything. Why does everyone keep blaming me?”

I’m not used to being blamed for things gone wrong. Cindy gets in trouble,
not me. She has no right to be accusing me of anything.

Cindy pushes past when I stop fighting her. There’s no point anymore. Besides, she doesn’t seem to be taking it at all like I expected. She seems completely calm, almost excited. It’s as though she’s been expecting something like this to happen.

She leans down so her face is even with the table and looks closely at the guy. He follows her every move with one hand resting cautiously on what I realize is a sword strapped to his hip.

“This is so crazy. You’re a real live person?”

“Usually,” he replies much to her delight.

I haven’t seen her so excited about anything since she got the car.

“You can talk? So awesome. Where did you come from? What’s your name? How did you get here? Are you always this small? Seriously, Lou, how did you do this? I’ve never seen anything like this. Gran showed me some cool tricks, but none of them were real magic, not like this.”

It takes me a few seconds to
realize that the person who sounds like they’re hyperventilating is actually me. I force a couple of even breaths before attempting to speak.

“Gran showed...”

Too much. Way too much to handle. I don’t know if my legs gave out or if I made a move to sit down, but either way, without any conscious thought, I’m suddenly on the floor with my arms wrapped around my knees again.

“Pathetic,” Cindy says with a roll of her eyes. She kneels next to my bed table and leaves me to my frantic rocking. “Do you have a name, or should we give you one?”

I look up in time to see him turn away from me. A name. Why didn’t I think of asking that? Oh wait, because I want him gone, not to become best friends with him.

“
Aldric,” he says.

“
Riiight,” she laughs. “We’re going to call you Al, kay?” She winks and makes a gun with her fingers.

“Whatever you prefer.”

“Ahh.” Cindy groans and falls back dramatically. “Best three words out of a man’s mouth. And with the accent, it’s extra hot. Tell me Al, what brings you here?”

“I honestly don’t know.” He hurries to add, “But I’m sure it was my fault. And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Cindy scoffs. “For what?”

“Anything and everything,” I answer for him. “Yeah, it’s all he’d say to me too.”

“Explain exactly what happened,” she says.

“It was the box.” I point at it on my bed. “I accidently opened it and he fell out.”

She reaches over and grabs the hunk of wood, twisting it around in her hands until it’s upside down. “Gran gave you this? When?”

“She didn’t. It was with her stuff.”

“You have some of her things? Why didn’t anyone tell me? I should have been the one to find this.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. She has the nerve to think she has any right to Gran’s possessions after the way she acted? Besides which, why would anyone want something like this to happen to them? Even Cindy can’t be so crazy.

It’s not until she starts to explain herself that I realize I’ve been gaping at her with a look of something between astonishment and disgust.

“The box is magic. You see the writing on the bottom? That’s a spell engraved into the wood. I can’t read what it says, but Gran showed me something similar before. She wanted me to be prepared. Just in case, you know.”

“Just in case of what?” I ask.

Cindy groans at my idiocy and pointedly looks at Al.

“Alright, Gran supposedly told you about this stuff. So explain. How does it work? How it he here? Does every box have magic and this one happened to do something while I was watching? Should I be worried about an army of mini-men running around on my night stand?”

I stop rhyming off every question in my head when I notice Cindy’s expression has changed to a familiar look of boredom. I bet she’s not even listening anymore.

“How does magic exist? Magic isn’t real.”