Halloween week, Tuesday, Salem, Oregon, 201-
Stupid Girls
"Heyyyyyyyy Puuuuuuuuckkkkkkk. You'll never believe what happened last Saturday night."
Puck turned around halfway through putting her coat in her locker.
"Guess! You'll never guess!" Becca and her two harpy friends, Markus Barleycorn and Mindy Scaramucci stood behind her, almost but not quite controlling their giggles.
"What?" Puck asked warily. Until she'd gone total flesh, the "sisters" had left her alone. But lately, since she'd started dressing less like a skater and more like an athlete, they'd… brought up certain non-issues as if they were issues.
"Your uncle delivered pizzas to my house party."
"So?" Puck was aware that her Uncle Mike delivered pizzas for Dominos on weekends when he wasn't picking up unskilled labor jobs from Wolf and Sons Contracting. "Were they cold?"
"Everybody knows what cops are like, Do-MIIIIIIII-noooooo's." Markus, a tall, skinny kid who wore eyeliner, Burberry penny loafers and Dior Homme polo shirts and whose father was D-State Representative John Barleycorn, made like Ariana Grande, sneering, "Bet he drinks all his paychecks. Bet it's how he pays your rent to the Steins, Dom-iiiiiiiii-nooooo's"
"Markus! I-I can't believe you SAID that!" Mindy, plump Mindy who had a sweet face and held to the back of the bitch pack exclaimed in horror, "Don't be so mea—"
"Shut UP, bacon butt!" Markus and Becca lashed out at the same time. They stared at each other and burst out laughing, "Jinx padlock!" Mindy blushed, her round, dark Italianate face going darker as she looked hard at the floor between her pink Uggs as if trying not to cry.
"When's the last time you had a bath, Domino's? Bet it's hard to take a bath when there's an ENGINE BLOCK in your bathtub!" Markus smiled, glancing about as if acknowledging an audience applauding his cleverness and his painted-on 3sixteen jeans.
Mindy blushed harder, whispering, "Your uncle painted our lake cabin last August. He did a-a really good job. And your aunt who helped him was really, really nice to me."
"Don't be so stupid, Markie! Why bother with a bathtub or even toilet paper when Pussy here clearly can lick her own pussy?" Becca giggled at her own cleverness.
"That's it! You and me—" Puck slammed her locker shut and advanced on the "sisters". "Right here! Right now!"
"Oooooooh, save me Markus. Domino's gonna hit me!" Going duck lips, Becca fanned her face, rolling her eyes. Still, was that a flash of alarm?
"This your fight, Puck?" jerk, twitch, STAMP. Toby suddenly was right behind Puck, leaning against her locker. How the hell did he do that? "Or can anybody join in the fun?" He cracked his leather gloved knuckles innocently, "Been a while since this floor was mopped."
Markus stepped back, manicured hands unconsciously raised in front of him. D-State Rep Barleycorn's button-down little #1 campaign asset sussed out what Toby was in the preference department the day Toby showed up, and considered grubby, half-shaven, scabby little Toby with his un-styled curls who dressed like he'd been brutally attacked by a Goodwill donation box and reeked of Old Spice and dirty socks, an embarrassment to the entire LGBT cause.
That and for some reason, twitchy, ticci Toby with his cold sores, raw cuticles and scuffed work boots, scared the living crap out of Markus.
Becca, not as fast on the uptake as she thought she was, sashayed forward, trilling innocently: "We have an old toilet left over from mom having our fifth bathroom redecorated. Does your big fat Aunt need another lawn planter?"
"OMG, Becca! How could you say that?" Mindy squealed in horror, stepping back quickly as both Puck and Toby launched themselves at Becca and Markus.
Only to be stopped by a large hand, "Is there a problem here?"
Solve for "X"
Tedator Sargent looked down at the scratch paper in front of him, and then the drift of crumpled scratch paper and mandible-gnawed broken pencils that surrounded him.
He had done it.
He had solved for "x".
And "x" was good.
He went looking for his twin brother, Fredator.
Such an accomplishment as this deserved to be commemorated by a loudly triumphant war dance with one's closest blood kin.
One down, nineteen to go.
There are no small parts. Only small actors.
It wasn't fair.
It just wasn't fair.
Maggie DESERVED to be Juliet.
Not that, that, that overdressed LAWN GNOME that called itself Gilda!
She had the part down!
But Gilda got the part, and Maggie was only an assistant wardrobe manager to Clawdeen.
It WASN'T FAIR! It WASN'T RIGHT! She had TALENT!
Maggie was just going to have to report that sour-faced bitch Ms. Morgandorffer to the Principal for discrimination.
Maggie would get what she deserved.
In spades!
Shalom, somewhat?
Shaking her head while stifling a laugh, Rebbe Rachel Verbermacher politely ended the call from Father Tom with a broad grin.
If he thought a ghost showing up at Queen of Peace was something, just wait until she told him all about the family of fine porcelain golems and their possessions from Dresden, Germany that landed on her desk at Temple Beth Sholom in a large professionally packed box covered with international customs stickers a month ago!
Did his family of ghosts have all their finances as well as their immigration papers in order?
Did they all have jobs waiting for them?
Did they have the paperwork for local schools, professional organizations and clubs already filled out along with the right amount for each membership if applicable?
Did they have intelligent, well-thought-out arguments prepared as to why they should be allowed to fully participate in all local religious and secular activities despite being not-exactly-human?
Rebbe Verbermacher, quietly partaking in her usual morning snack of rugalach and tea, apple and Lady Grey, seriously doubted it.
PTSD
"What does it feel like to kill the innocent?"
Staring straight ahead, SRO Schmidt started to cross the greenspace between the gymnasium and the cafeteria to start his second job as assistant boxing coach.
Ms. Goode's unwelcome question floated around his mind, echoing and bumping off of half-remembered memories, as it had for quite some time.
One hand rose, unconciously pawing at the red band around the base of his throat, the one that the Steins hadn't been able to remove without shorting everything out.
All of them had one, Puck, Maggie, Jeremy Fitzgerald, and most regrettably of all, Raina.
Raina who had voluntarily joined them in their exile.
"What does it feel like to kill the innocent?"
Mike'd had one jolt too many – Charlie the original owner of the bodies they possessed, liked pushing the big red button just so she could enjoy watching them, him, writhe helplessly on the black and white tiles, even when they obeyed— big chunks of his long-term memory were gaping holes, no thanks to those indiscriminate electrons.
He could tell Jeremy and the girls had a hard time remembering what it had been like at Circus Baby's – and what they'd done.
Of what he'd done.
Of being homeless, out of cash and out of control. Of accepting a sketchy job he'd found in the paper, of getting kicked out of the Marines for a back injury that wasn't his fault.
Of wanting to die because what was the point?
Of not having the guts to go through with it.
Of dying anyway.
Of rising.
Of taking his anger, his grief, out on the living.
The living who'd been no better off than him.
Oh yeah, lady, what does it feel like to kill the innocent?
You really want to know? Do you? Really?
Mike's new body froze, mid step, eyes fixed and glassy for a few seconds, head swiveling back and forth, lower jaw flapping mindlessly, hands moving mechanically up and down.
Sit down, lady. I'd be happy to tell you, if I'd let myself remember.
The bell rang.
Mike snapped out of it, and as if the glitch had never happened, continued walking towards the gymnasium, thoughts jangling like the bell.
Blue Bunny
"Victor and I are so, so sorry." Mrs. Stein looked distressed, "But this was all the DNA we were able to extract from that old hand puppet you gave us as a guideline to our engineering. We didn't realize you wanted a little girl."
"No, no." said Raina as she stared down at the freshly decanted synthetic body of what was clearly a seven-year old BOY who lay on his side in a fetal curl on the marble slab in Victor Stein's home lab, "It's… it's… it's all right. I'm just startled, is all." She reached towards the body and hesitated, "Mike once showed me his only baby picture; it's uncanny! May I, may I touch him?"
"Of course!" Vivica couldn't help but be proud of what her family had done for Raina, the blue bunny ears and matching powder puff tail that her daughter Frankie had engineered was icing on the cake. "Do you want to plug him in for his first charge?"
"Uh, you really think I should?" Raina looked nervously down at the twin leads Vivica placed in her hands and then at the discreet ports on either side of the little boy's neck, "I might mess it up!"
"Oh, it's almost impossible to get wrong. I mean, I dropped Frankie's the first time I plugged her in two years ago!" Vivica giggled, "And she's fine!"
"Right."
"Anyway, you'll or someone else in the family will have to help him the first few times, so you might as well get over it now." Vivica took Raina's pale hands in her two mint green ones, "Ooooooh, will you look at those pretty blue ringlets? Those eyelashes? Precious! Now, if you really want little Bon-Bon here, we can finish programming him in time for Christmas. Otherwise, we'll just put this little cutie in back in the nutrient bath and activate him next summer for ourselves after some modifications - Victor wants a son, can you believe it?"
Raina silently nodded assent and with Vivica's guidance, plugged Bon-Bon in.
The Woodwright's Apprentice
Patador Sargent stepped back to admire the huge, wooden table he'd just finished making using only a broadaxe and a few simple hand tools that he'd had to build himself because ooman tools were too small – blacksmithing was fun!
The huge black cottonwood log had been easy to work with once he'd dragged it out of the Williamette River.
Dragging it home down the middle of the inner-city highway after work a few feet at a time in a torrential downpour with the help of Fredator and Tedator using smaller logs as rollers using ooman- style teamwork, while traffic sped around them, not so much.
But they'd triumphed.
And the local police who'd responded to the call that three crazy RADS were dragging a stolen tree down the middle of the Interstate, had been very understanding once Pat explained through M'Binte what he was up to and who his mate was.
They'd even formed a flashing blue and red honor guard around the three Yautja until they got their trophy home – along with the recommendation that next time Pat needed to rent a big truck if he ever needed to move something this large using public byways again.
Digging the sawpit by himself after work out behind the abandoned factory they called home, had taken a while, but it had killed time until the huge two-man ripping saw he needed to cut slabs by hand from the big log had arrived via UPS through .
He'd put his two progenies to work when they came home to do laundry.
After pouring tung oil on the freshly sanded surface, Patador picked up Ruby and then Marlys and placed the two pups on the broad wooden expanse, bundles of clean rags already tied to their feet. He switched on Swan Lake, gesturing at them to start "skating", mentally mapping out a set of matching chairs.
He would need six to start with.
But a trophy as big, as grand as this feasting table, deserved at least twelve.
He would have to see what the Woodwright, who had been right about doing your own blacksmithing, had to say about chairs.
Medicine
The world was becoming ever clearer for Jeff.
He didn't mind.
What he wanted, no what he needed, required a clear head.
It had been a while since he'd had a girlfriend.
It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for Sanctuary, the old Girl Scout camp.
Sanctuary kept him safe and clean when his head was louder than usual.
Sanctuary kept him in Froot Loops.
Sanctuary medicated him, giving him a break from the noise in his head when it got in the way.
When he bothered to take it.
Creature of nightmare that Jeff was, he was about to prepare a lovely one for his prey.
Only the best for his girl.
But first, he needed to talk to a fool.
Charlie
Charlie sat in her borrowed car in front of where Circus Baby's Pizza World had been replaced by a tanning booth supply house. Freddy's was an adult night club, XXX.
Her sentence was up.
She was free.
Too bad she was broke.
Flat broke, as "in the darkness below zero".
Every last fuckin' dime had gone to cover Chapter 1.
What her creditors didn't get, the IRS did.
She'd done a bit of digging.
If her hunch from a few months back was right, there was money to be had.
Big money.
Or at least the satisfaction of revenge.
Time to drive to Salem.
Vacation
With a reptilian smile, the tall man with dark hair waited for the privately chartered helicopter to land in the deer meadow overlooked by the rented luxury cabin in the Cascades.
His master, his employer, his prey, had done exactly as predicted when allowed to stew in his own juices alone.
He pulled himself together and came looking for the man with dark hair.
It had taken him longer than usual, true.
But it had worked.
In the mean-time, the tall man had enjoyed a lovely end of season vacation, watching stories unfold in the shadows of mountains like so many wildflowers.
The helicopter's rotors stilled
The shadowy master of a global business empire limped towards him through the damp late autumn meadow, dark hair drifting in the mountain wind, thin sunlight glinting from his eye patch.
"I see that you have located my property." Was all he said.