Chapter 6 - Awake Away
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Sugar Ray "Into Yesterday"
[warning for language]
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Toby wrenched open his mouth and crammed in the last bite of the crisped bread, savoring the cheese flavor and ketchup. The last bite of his joy before dinner.
He opened the fridge and surveyed, as Karen whisked the gravy packet into a pot. "Toby, I am not a diner. I try hard to make food for everyone. Please, at least, try to eat dinner with us."
He closed the door begrudgingly moped his way back to the dining room table, headphones drowning out the sound of the vent. /Yeah, fine. But like dad says, I know what I like./
Karen's frequent attempts to create healthier options were thwarted by Toby's need for his idea of palatable food.
/Sarah, while visiting from university, had jokingly told him to starve or make his own. 'Or,' she added, 'have a job like me and buy your own ingredients.'/
And the clever kid took it upon himself to read through online recipes, watch hours of footage, and remake foods he liked.
Toby stayed with his taste for the Americana. Such creations as black olive-cheddar-taco sauce nachos; a cinnamon toaster pastry over fudge-overload ice cream, or a potato chip lined hotdog with barbecue sauce. Inevitably Sarah's tofu cubes snuck onto a veggie crouton plate...but no match for his pesto ranch dressing. Courtesy of his mother's tiny food processor. And Toby ate it, too. There were few strange combos he shied away from.
It was a miracle that he figured out his own way to create food. Like. Magic./
Sarah plonked her way down the stairs. And knew to look for a side dish. Karen walked to the sink. "Sarah, It's gonna be a chicken and gravy dinner. I got you, um, the tofu you wanted..."
Sarah's gaze moved to the table where the microwaved block of soy sat. Sarah almost sighed, but thanked Karen. She made a mental note to take a few bites and then save for later pan-fry. She sat near Toby, who was lost in his music. Junebug jumped onto the trash-tin lid and sniffed the air with poultry envy.
She looked to the rather comforting table arrangement. At least Karen put her best foot forward. And took time out of her life to do this. If anything, Karen and Robert tried their damndest to integrate a healthier routine for everyone's sake. It was progress... though uneven.
/The notably worst example of a diet dish was the dreaded "healthy casserole"; brought by an ex-wife of a brother on Robert's side, a few years after Sarah's Run. A baked abomination of mixed vegetable medley featuring lima beans, pasteurized-process cheese, steak spices, with a breadcrumb and olive ringlet topping. An embryonic attempt at a vegetarian and low sugar option.
Both Toby and Sarah... swallowed a forkful. Even Karen and Robert took no-thanks bites. Since that day, it was a threat for anyone to stop complaining about food.
"It's about a dollar a serving to make healthy casserole, with leftovers," Karen snarked one day, after Robert asked yet again for deep-dish pizza from a themed midwestern joint. "And you know how sad it is to waste food," she said with a signature upward-chin tilted smirk. Sarah got such a response as much as Robert or Toby. The others in the family never took offense. But all knew a Karen Sanction right quick./
After dinner the group split. Robert insisted that he help Karen clean up the dishes. Sarah figured it was her dad's way of generating more intimacy without making it clear. Not that she ever wanted to come to that conclusion; one plus one is two and both parents are...gone when the dishes are through. Sarah listened to the usual clatter-clink-footsteps-whispers routine while safely away and seated on the couch.
Sarah didn't like the idea of intimacy as a goal. Well, in her infinite wisdom, intimacy was foreign ground. Close friendships and fleeting acquaintances showed her that it was often situational. If she were more driven to catch it, she might have had more than select trysts. But being desperate for that? That might well lead to being heartbroken.
She spent too much of her adolescent time moping over her birth-mom's split from her dad. And blamed everyone and herself. But in that time, no one was as guilty as Karen of that interference. And it tore teen Sarah to shreds. The Run was the turning point for Sarah to actually admit defeat. But only in her own cruel judgments.
As Sarah mulled over the endless questions of her sexuality, a strange tingling sensation overtook her hands. They appeared normal despite the tugging feeling and gentle tremors. She closed her eyes and breathed as if to meditate. A sharp shallow breath. Then no tingling.
But a rolling sound. Sarah knew her peaceful mulling was up. Looking for an orb, or goblin, Sarah scanned the dim room and floors. "...just show yourself," she chirped in whisper. Rolling stopped. Then began. A dull thud startled her, and lo, the orb was beside her leg on the couch. Her forearms tugged in a throb again.
The orb sat still, and was transparent. She, for a moment, paused in wait of any glitter bombs. Nothing. She tapped it with her middle finger. Nothing. "Spying isn't right. Especially in my parent's house,"
No response. She had a thought.
"Show me the Child Taker."
Nothing.
/Maybe ask questions./ "Where is the Creature?"
She tapped it, and gasped as it became a grey opaque. Her arms ached again. Compelled to touch it, she grasped the item in her left hand. The feeling shot up her arm and into chest pain. Her feet went numb and she closed her eyes in shock. Her body lay still in the seat.
The nameless mist carried her figure in a current. She wrenched open her eyes, as her vision floated over a figure laying still on the shore. A sea faced it, and its unclothed body seemed to radiate unease in Sarah's mind. Spindly and unearthly pale. Its head lay to the side. She felt her vision change, and saw that its eyes were open, blinking with the membrane. Its mouth slid agape, pointed teeth a sickly yellow. Sarah stifled a noise. But she could not make a sound.
She was slammed back into reality, lurched over and coughing in thrums. The orb banged onto the ground and rolled out of sight. She nearly fell forward, but threw herself sideways on the couch.
"Sarah?"
The cough spurts threw her breathing off. Her heart shook.
"-Sarah!" Toby's panicked voice sounded across the room. Footsteps scampered closer. Her tearing eyes found Toby holding his tablet and his headset off.
"Uhm...you, uh. Choking." His voice was shaken as well. "You were sleeping, then choking."
"Yeah," she wiped her eyes. "Really bad dream. I was...swimming...then couldn't."
"You're-okay, right?" Toby was unable to move. Just clutch his item.
"I will be okay. It's a dream." She smiled with effort.
Toby was not convinced. "A monster also? In your dream?"
Sarah's eyes widened. And nodded.
He hesitantly slumped into the couch. His tablet blinked a color. He pressed the button to pause it.
"The scary monster...tries to get me too, when I sleep. I swim away but the monster swims faster, uh, grabs my hand. I wake up."
"Toby?" Sarah couldn't form words. "But...how long have you... had the dream?"
"Few. Days prob'ly."
She looked at the empty room. The lies she told would not hold for long.
It matched the time frame of her learning about the Child Taker. The texts she read must have spread outward to others in the vicinity. A mild fury overcame her. Only the Goblin King would intentionally send her a...contagious... item.
"Toby," She took his shoulder in a side-hug. Then looked blindly for sign, the orb, anything. "Nothing. Will hurt you. I promise."
"Promise?"
She looked to him. His eyes held doubt. Understandably. Sarah nodded.
….-...-...-...
"Sera Merlin," the woman replied to the flower shop worker. The latina lady nodded, her blonde-streaked hair sealed in a worker bun.
"...so like the wizard? Oooh. I wish my name was unique. But no."
Sera smiled and looked down. "Honestly I changed my name as an adult. I was Basic Name before." The woman adjusted the green tinged roses in her small bouquet. She hated the smell of roses, but learned to deal with it.
"Hm. I wonder what happens when people marry and get, like, ugly last names though. I'd kill to be Merlin." The worker's canary nails contrasted with her glitter ring-finger under the port light, as she brushed a loose flower leaf into the trash.
"I chose it over Sera Avalon,"
"...that's it, Avalon is my favorite. Thanks, buh-bye." She waved as Sera left the shop with the tinkle of the door bell.
Sera felt uplifted from the interaction. The umbrella flew open with the button as she strolled toward the parking lot. The worker seemed interested in her name, but not in a 'why isn't it s-a-r-a-h' way.
It picked her mood up on this glum rainy day; her knee acted up this week and it didn't help that her pain meds caused her a stomach ache now. That was the price of playing soccer for community college all those years ago. One twist and that knee ripped itself into a chronic issue.
"I wish." What did she wish for, again? A new knee? "I wish someone could...just...take the pain away." Sera muttered to no one in the rain. "...better yet," she mumbled, "take me away, too. Fuck reality."
She reached her car. A resonant noise hummed behind her. A scuttling splashing noise sounded behind her. Lights flashed. She whipped around with the flowers, and saw no one. Nothing was out here except the cars on the speedway a block ahead.
/It's a squirrel, stupid,/ She reminded herself. Then Sera unlocked her car.
A rolling sound met her left periphery.
She whirled to see only amber lights and cement. One light flickered and went out, leaving a desolate lot and car noises. "Shit. I'm going batty too." She slammed herself into the car, locked the doors, then threw the glove bin open to find acetaminophen. She popped one to take the spear off. In a moment her car hummed away.
"Wish for it...I will come," A voice croaked in an unheard tongue. The dark figure emerged in the exhaust fumes and glare of tail lights. A sickly pale complexion glowed in the amber lamps. The membrane closed over its eyes as the human shape framed ebony irises. Its waifish shape sunk beneath the dark colors and masculine fashion.
Its body grew sturdier in every whisper of pain and loss. Its human form stood in the flesh, supported by the misery of the strip and people who occupied it.
But the owl Goblin King was not in the parking lot that night. He sat perched facing the sliding glass door of the Williams house, hopping along a branch to gaze at the waning moon. A preening, then lift to join the sky and his Realm.
He felt the presence of magic in the human Realm. It stung with the salt of the ocean in his nostrils. Unbidden. He had to consult Ha'ta. Another magic, powerful, creature was in the radius of this area.
…...
+Thanks, dear Readers, for your patience. My life has not allowed me to play in art much, since I am caught up in getting bucket-list things [if you call them that] off my "young-life" plans. Good for me, but I am trying my damndest to update this dear tale.
On the flippity-flop...Steven Dietz & John Langs' Dracula absolutely threw me into the joy of live theatre: a determined Mina Harker, outstanding production value, and a powerful cast left me breathless. What a production! ...And utilizing a sample of Gerard McMann's "Cry Little Sister"? genius.