1.
A death marches out of the motel, a
shadow of seething fury moving across the parking lot and onto the
patio, eyes burning and fists clenched. “You are dead.”
“Good morning,” I say, drink my
coffee, and gesturing to one sitting on the table. “Coffee?”
“Coffee,” Death repeats, in tones
one would use to declare war.
“It’s quite good.” I pause a
beat. “Also, you’re scaring the staff and customers in the coffee
shop.”
Red fire burns, banks, flicks out, the
shadows and god power being pulled deep within as Charlie sits
carefully down. “I am still going to kill you, magician.”
“Knowing why would help. Not that I
imagine you’d be short of reasons?”
Charlie smiles against her will at
that. “You had to remind Jay that my birthday was tomorrow.”
“You thought he’d forget?”
“He was going to give me a ‘Jaysome
hug’. You reminded him that he gives hugs a lot so now he’s
looking for a gift,” she snaps.
“Oh.”
“And insisting he’ll find me the
best gift ever. Remember him finding those smurfs?”
“They were small.”
“But not often blue since they
covered their skin in the blood of their enemies and consumed an
entire bear like land piranha would. You are going to make sure he
gets me a sane gift. Or else.”
Even Charlie realizes the ‘or else’
goes too far, but I just raise an eyebrow. “Or else what?”
“Or else I convince Jay that
magicians have lots of birthdays and see how many gifts he can bring
you. Don’t think I won’t do it.”
I finish my coffee and stand. “I’ll
see what I can do.”
“Good,” she says, and begins
drinking her coffee. And doesn’t even think to ask why I set Jay
out to find a gift, or even why I’d do that. I leave her anger to
blind her and poke Jay gently through bindings to find out where he
is. And I pause, and wonder if at least some of her anger might be
justified as I explain to Jay that Charlie definitely does not
want the Loch Ness Monster as a birthday present, not even if Nessie
wants a vacation.
I’m
even more firm that Charlie won’t want Nessie’s ten thousand
young.
2.
I don’t try and spend my birthday
hiding, not really. But I sneak out of my RV, catch a bus across the
city we’re in, lose myself in a dozen tourist things rating highly
on Yelp, browse a museum for the first time since some school trip
when I was twelve or thirteen. I can’t hide from Jay, even if I
wanted to try. There are bindings connecting us together as friends
and I’m not sure I could break all of that even if I wanted to. I
know I couldn’t break them on his end.
Which is why my phone buzzes me in my
left pocket shortly after noon despite the fact I made sure not to
bring it with me. I sigh and remove it; Jay is from far, far Outside
the universe and uses bindings in ways even the wandering magician
barely understands. He’s also My Friend, which means more than I
likt to think sometimes.
‘I TOTALLY HAVE YOUR PRESENT!!! :D’
is the text from Jay, who would definitely pout a lot if I tried to
inform him I didn’t want it.
I remind myself that the wandering
magician at least tried to vet the gift. And that Jay’s weird
aggressive innocence means it can’t be that bad, and text back
asking where it is. He responds with an address and enough
exclamation marks to mak a teacher cringe in horror. I’d worry more
at that except Jay is enthused by pretty much everything in the
universe, and more than happy to share that with everyone he meets.
I debate calling the magician and
demanding a heads up, but I doubt he’d give me one. I remind myself
I’m a god-eater, that I have a god inside me, that I’m a trained
exorcist and, most importantly, that I’m me.
It helps, because I don’t give that a choice except to help, and I
walk a good ten minutes to one of those modern restaurants. The kind
where the food is more a decoration than something to be eaten,
the staff all looking like they came out of a period piece.
There are just six tables inside a vast
area, each cordoned off by plants, a couple of water features,
various dividers all done up to seem as though they weren’t
dividers at all. The cost must be ridiculous, but I doubt Jay even
gave it a single thought.
The waiter has a perfect smile, ushers
me to a small table, brings bread, along with water I’m told is
GMO-free and smells of lemons. I half-hope that the magician
convinced Jay that a meal was gift enough until he comes into the
restaurant. Male. I’m sure of that much. Gorgeous, as if you melded
together every Hollywood actor I loved and put them into one perfect
body. The staff stare as well, shaken from their routines –
possibly also their definitions of themselves – as he comes and
sits across from me.
“Charlie?”
“Yes,” I say, relieved this doesn’t
seem to be Jay in a disguise. “And you are?”
“John.”
“And this is a date?”
“If – if you want?”
“Okay. And what are you?” He
blinks, not moving. “You look like every actor I’ve never thought
was remotely cute turned into one person. It is, at the least,
distracting but I’ve seen Walkers of the Far Reaches who could
destroy people with a smile. So. Talk.”
“I am a tulpa, a creature made of
thought. We normally cannot change our forms, but Jay altered me so I
could do so, in exchange for a date with a friend of his?”
“And you said yes, knowing nothing
about me?”
“Jay is very – persuasive,” John
says. “Like a puppy you do not want to hurt. And I have done worse
things than go on dates with strangers.”
Food arrives, though we haven’t
ordered. The plates are small, the staff don’t hover and the food
is shockingly good, enough to be a date all in itself.
“The pears,” I manage. “Like an
orgasm.”
John lets out a laugh that seems
entirely human as I catch up with what I said, and we share a grin as
we eat some more. He tells me that he mostly does human things, lives
a simple human life, does small work. Tries no to be noticed, because
tulpas can’t change as humans change. He has no idea how Jay even
found him, or why, but wasn’t about to question it.
“No matter the cost?” I ask finally
as we’re drinking the dessert wine.
“I desire to survive, the same as
everyone else.” His smile is small and sad, but beautiful for all
of that.
I thank him and we leave, each going
our separate ways. I almost make it two blocks before Jay manages to
run into me. At least not doing so literally, since people would
definitely comment if some blind boy slammed right into someone and
their response was resignation.
“Kiddo.”
“Your date is over already? But I
totally planned that, and helped John, and got the staff all ready to
be Jaysome and has plans for a nice Hotel and everything,” he says.
I ruffle his hair gently. “I’m sure
you did, Jay, but I didn’t need all that.”
“But –,” he protests, looking up
at me.
“How about we just spend the rest of
the day hanging out together,” I say.
“But we do that all the time! I
wanted it to be all kinds of special and –.”
I press a finger to his lips. “The
wanting makes it special, at least a little. We can hang out, talk,
walk about without any adventures at all.”
Jay blinks a few times at that.
“Without adventures?” he says finally.
I have to grin at his stricken look and
hug him, letting go as I stand and taking his left hand in my right.
“Just being with a friend can be adventure enough, okay?”
Jay considers that, then nods and
grins, his cane folding up and going into a pocket. “And you can
lead!”
“That will make sure we don’t run
into adventures?”
“Probably,” he says, quite
seriously.
I shake my head and we walk slowly down
streets, Jay peppering me with questions about everything I can see,
and my asking questions about bindings he’s sensing in turn as we
make plans to meet the magician for supper and I do my best to
convince him that just hanging out for a nice, quiet afternoon is all
the birthday present I could want.
I suspect it won’t stop him from
wanting to get me another ‘gift’ next year, but I can hope.
3.
“We need to talk.”
I look up from gently using magic to
massage old stones as Charlie glowers at me. “About?”
“My birthday. You. Jay. You sicced
him on me with ideas about gifts he could get me. And you do nothing
without having ulterior motives, magician.”
I smile. “You say that word in ways
Jay never would.”
“And I’m wrong in this?”
“No.” I pull the magic back. “Jay
is flexing his nature more. Testing the world, feeling the limits of
it and pushing against them. I wanted some idea of how far he’s let
himself grow.”
“Let?” She says warily.
I try on the shape of a smile. “You
remember Oregon.”
“The attempted invasion into the
universe from Outside?”
“I called forth a Power with the
universe to aid us.”
Charlie shudders, the god within her
withdrawing even from the memory. “It was – big. I try and forget
what I saw but I can’t.”
“It was Time, or at least an
approximation of It.” I shove my hands into my pockets. “Jay is
kin to that kind of power, Charlie. Potentially even greater, for all
anyone knows. You’ve seem something of what Else he is.”
“Yes. It was – large. Strange. He
was terrified I would be scared of him.”
“He doesn’t know what he is. Not
yet. I don’t think he’ll let himself know. Nothing with the
potential he has should even be able to enter the universe, Charlie.
But he is here, and our friend, and we must deal with that as best we
can.”
“By testing him?”
“If we have to.” I walk back toward
the RV. “As we need to.”
“That’s not safe at all,” she
says softly.
“Few worthwhile things are wholly
safe,” I say, and the answer is a glib magician’s one that she
doesn’t question at all.
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