(Please note, the usual disclaimers apply. Original characters are mine, others are Jo's. It's her world, I'm just playing in it.)
Chapter 40
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Charlie and I took the international portkey to Boston, a rather hair raising trip (international
portkeys are notoriously rough). Omar was waiting for us at the reception area, I hadn't seen my best
friend in months. Oliver "Omar" Robinson is six feet four inches, and almost three hundred pounds, most of it muscle. He picked me up and bear hugged me. "I missed you so much, Pookie," he said, as he put me down.
"Same here, Honey Bunny," I replied.
"Doesn't look at all like an Omar," I heard Charlie come up behind me.
"And what do I do I look like? oh studly one," Omar asked him, with hands on his hips.
Charlie looked him up and down once, the said, with out missing a beat, "like a 'Sven'"
"I told you not to get the crew cut," I said, with his blond buzz cut, blue eyes, and physique, my Boston Irish friend looked like a Scandinavian boxer. I tip-toed to ruffle his hair.
"Yeah," Omar agreed, running a hand over his scalp. "But Danny likes it."
"Speaking of," I commented, "where is the love of your life?"
"At St Sarah's, pulling a double. He's sorry he couldn't be here."
"No fun," I frowned.
"Nope, but someone's got to do it. Come on Glinda, and her lovely British bull dog. Let's get you two to my car."
The look on Charlie's face at being called a 'lovely British bull dog' was priceless. I wish I'd had a camera. I just laughed and pulled him along with me.
"You're going to be staying in the Zone," Omar explained as he stored our bags in the trunk of his Toyota. "The reservations I had for the cottage in Yarmouth fell through."
"The Zone?" Charlie asked.
"The Zone," I let Omar explain, he loves to talk, "is a specially warded section of Salem that the muggles don't go near. It's called the Zone because... well.. that's what it's always been called. We figured that you guys could use a good rest before Monday. Danny's got a friend who's going to do your disguise on monday morning. It's going to itch like a bastard, just to warn you."
"Why do you need a disguise, love?" Charlie asked from the back seat. "You never wear one in London."
"There are people, muggles, who knew me before I was changed on the island. The way I look now, might cause some issues."
"Makes sense, I suppose." Charlie sat back and enjoyed the ride into Salem. The international time difference had turned our early evening in London into a bright and sunny afternoon in Massachusetts.
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Omar drove us into the run-down parking garage that held the hidden entrance to Salem's Zone.
"How brilliantly shabby," Charlie commented as Omar pulled into a space.
"Don't worry, Stud Muffin," Omar assured him. "It gets better."
Omar and I led Charlie to the maintenance closet that hid the doorway to Salem's Wizard district.
"The Zone is designed along the same concept as Diagon alley, it exists just outside the limits of muggle perception." Omar explained as we passed from the muggle world to the Wizard world. "There's nearly everything a wizard could need in here," He pointed out land marks to Charlie as we strolled through the streets. That's Town Hall," he pointed to the colonial era meeting house that still held weekly gatherings, a sprawling park had been cultivated around the old land mark. "Over there," He pointed to the statue that stood in front of the meeting house, "is the memorial to the founders, until 1692 Wizards and muggles coexisted in the colonies, but the witch trials in Salem pretty much put an end to that, Avalon and Ogden Nowell cast the enchantment that surrounds the Zone. Every wizard and witch in Massachusetts colony was given asylum if they needed it. Only one actual witch was killed by the crazy muggles, St. Sarah's Hospital in Boston was named for her."
"That's brilliant," Charlie said, smiling at the sights as we walked to our hotel. The largest and most ornate building in the Zone.
A house elf in khaki shorts, a royal blue polo shirt, and deck shoes greeted us at the door. "Welcome to the Hotel Alfheim: Zone," he said. "May I take your bags." The lobby was decorated with lots of light blue, sea green, with several cushy sofas and chairs done in nautical patterns. In one corner was a piano that played itself, and a coffee bar in the other.
"Thank you," I said, handing the elf my napsack. We led us to the front desk, where another similarly dressed house elf was waiting to check us in.
"Do you have a reservation?" she asked, with a welcoming smile.
"It's under Glinda Goode," Omar said to the elf. She leafed through the book on her counter, and said. "Aha, here it is, Miss Goode. One balcony king room with a view of the beach."
"Ollie please take them to room 304," she asked her coworker. Charlie and I signed the register, and were handed ornate keys with tags marked '304'. "Enjoy your stay," she smiled at us.
"Yes, Ginger," Ollie replied, "follow me, sirs and mam."
We were led to an elevator, and brought to a room on the third floor. The elf opened the door, and led us into a beautiful room, decorated in nautical themes and colors to match the rest of the décor,
"this is lovely," I said to our host.
"Brilliant," Charlie said, eyeing king size bed. With a yawn, he dropped his bag on the floor and fell into the bed. "You catch up with Omar, love. I'm going to have a bit of a lie-down." He turned over and within a few seconds he was snoring.
"Actually," I said. "I could use a bit of a nap myself. Please don't be insulted..."
"Say no more, Pookie," Omar assured me, "No offense taken, take your nap, I'll be picking you and the snoozing stud there for dinner at six." He hugged me, and let himself out, as I joined Charlie on the bed.
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Monday, June 25, 2012
"So the sour faced bird in the front chair is your aunt?"
"Charlie! that's rude."
"Well, I happen to agree with him one hundred percent, Pookie."
"Don't encourage him, Omar."
We arrived about fifteen minutes before the service started. Since, I'd been officially 'missing' since 1995, my aunt was designated as official next of kin in my father's military records. That meant that she was the one who made all the family decisions about the memorial service. Although, I'm sure Omar's disguise wizard friend had done a wonderful job on my skin. I hadn't approached anyone, I simply waited to see if there was a chance someone would recognize me. We were about to take seats in one of the back rows of chairs that were set up when I felt a hand on my shoulder. When I turned around, I saw a face I hadn't see since I was eight. Although, his once dark hair had gone stark white and he'd grown a beard since retirement, I knew him immediately.
"Uncle Richard?"
"It is you," he said with tears in his eyes. "I just knew it, Peanut, you've grown up so much. Hey, Maggie!" he called for his wife.
"What is it? Rich...oh my goodness! Glinda!" I found myself enveloped in the group hug of all group hugs. "Bridget and Calvin didn't tell us you were going to be here."
"I haven't spoken to either of them in thirty years," I explained. "The only reason I knew that they'd found my dad was your letter."
"I'm surprised it got to you," Uncle Richard explained. "Maggie googled you back when Bridget e-mailed us that they'd found Albert. I gave us an Alumni list for Johnson and Wales."
I just nodded and smiled. "Excuse me, love?" Charlie joined the conversation.
"Oh gods," I said, "where are my manners," I introduced them. "Uncle Richard, and Aunt Maggie, This is my friend Oliver Robinson." They shook hands. And this is Charlie Weasley, my-"
Before I could finish the sentence, Charlie said, "her fiance." I just blinked at him for a sec.
"I knew it," said Omar, rather smugly.
"It's wonderful to meet you, Charlie," Aunt Maggie said.
"I hear the United Kingdom in your voice, young man," Uncle richard observed as they shook hands.
"Yes, sir. Born and raised in England."
"I'm living in Britain now, Uncle Richard. I'm teaching at a school in Scotland."
"You're a teacher?"Maggie said, "how wonderful. What grade do you teach?"
"I teach eleven through seventeen year olds."
"What subject dear?"
Omar, Charlie and I just looked at each other for a second. We expected this question, and had spoke about how we would answer that question in the muggle world. "Life skills," I said, with a smile. Before we could continue the conversation, the pastor announced that they were about to begin.
Omar, Charlie and I took seats next to Richard and Maggie. When my aunt noticed me, she looked as if she'd stepped in something disgusting. I can't believe I was that recognizable.
"You look just like your mother, my dear," Maggie explained.
I just smiled, and thanked her, and silently thanked Omar's disguise wizard friend Malcolm, who'd been able to turn my pale white skin into the dusky hew that I'd inherited from my half Algonkan Indian mother, well, until the island. Malcolm had tinted my skin, and sprayed my hair to look a normal grayish tone. I sat down between Uncle Richard and Charlie, and we waited for the pastor to begin.
"Love," Charlie whispered into my ear. "What's googling?
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(an: well, here's the next chapter, the holidays have had me running ragged, I haven't had much time to write, I'm hoping that the new years will make life calm down a bit, and I'll be able to post more often.
Thank you for being patient with me."
Merry Christmas to all, and have a Happy, Healthy, and Prosperous New Year!