A/N - Hello! Yes, it's been a while… Last update was pre-pandemic and the changing world threw off my groove, but this isn't a dead project and I look forward to posting some more chapters here on occasion. Enjoy!
(Posted August 4th, 2023)
Talk About Us
Year of Water, Spring of the Aligned Raindrops
Saturday, May 15th, 2004 - 11:44 am
When it comes to I've had the weirdest day, it's hard to top going to lunch with the Grim Reaper and getting handed an iguana. Granted, this wasn't Kevin's first time eating lunch with the old coot, and Foop was still begging for the details. Yeah, Kevin didn't even know where to start with that one. "He's just a long-time friend of my mom's" didn't seem to be cutting it.
Personally, Kevin didn't see what the big deal was. The Grim Reaper had a creepy aesthetic to him - you know, like Marvin and Molly - but all in all, he was just some guy. He picked up odd jobs all over Peachfield to pay off his student loans. Hearing Foop gush over him as Kevin picked at his soup (and his uncle devoured a sandwich) kind of gave him the creeps, like listening to a Kindergartener gush about the local crossing guard.
Is it really THAT weird?
Denise Quinna Crocker was a vampire lover. She volunteered often at the Peachfield nursing home and hung around the elderly. The Grim Reaper also volunteered a lot at the Peachfield nursing home, although probably for a different reason. They shared a love for all things dark, bleak, and undead. And, well… he walked around in a big brown cloak and preferred writing with a quill. Denise Crocker was going to notice that. She'd always been an extraverted woman, and her nosiness knew no bounds. Did you know the Grim Reaper has a birthday? Apparently that's a thing.
"Super lame," Foop scoffed when Kevin tried explaining this over their table at the Cake 'N Bacon. The kid took a massive bite of clam chowder, then went back to coloring spikes and pitfall traps down every path of his kiddie menu maze. "Really, Kevin… I thought you were a cool Crocker."
"Death is overhyped anyway," Kevin muttered back. He'd finished his own soup, apart from some final chunks of celery and clams. He gripped his spoon like a bungee cord and stabbed it in the bowl. You know, the explanation of how he'd come to know the Grim Reaper may have been short, but lingering in the poorly lit diner with his uncle and a little kid - not to mention a hissing iguana - felt even more distracting.
Were people whispering about them? Kevin kept glancing around, watching Vicky weave back and forth between the tables with her pitcher. Was the iguana invisible or something? No one else had reacted to it yet. Once, when Vicky turned around with her scarlet ponytail bouncing, her eyes locked on Kevin's. She scrunched her nose at him, brows drawing low. Somehow, that look sort of curdled his skin. Kevin dropped his gaze to his empty soup bowl, his heart pounding like a crushed car on a conveyor belt. His phone hung like a brick in his hand. Great. Its cold, blank screen just surfaced the reminder that neither Molly nor Mommy had tried reaching out to him in the last hour.
Can we go yet?
The Cake 'N Bacon's clam chowder did taste delicious. It lifted Kevin's spirits a bit from the slump they'd plunged into after he was denied a visit to the Buxaplenty place, but it definitely didn't fill his stomach. He made a mental note to order a sandwich alongside the soup if he ended up eating here again, but he was more than ready to leave once their bill was paid. His skin itched like mad. He kind of wanted to wash his hands and splash his face just to shake off some of the general weirdness of the day, but he'd already used the bathroom once since they got here and he was pretty sure the waitresses would stare if he squeezed past them to go again.
At last, Uncle Denzel stood and shooed Foop off the other end of their booth. He said he had to swing by the Dimmsdale pet store to get iguana food and that he'd need to use the bathroom too before he left, so Kevin offered to walk home by himself. "I want to see more of Dimmsdale," he told his uncle, staring up with the widest blue eyes he could manage, and his uncle bought the lie. In truth? Anything, even walking around the California outdoors on a hot day like this one, had to be better than another reckless drive in the back of the Unsuspecting Van.
"I'll go with you," Foop chirped, grabbing his crayons and menu from the table. Once they were in his hands, he vaporized both in a small puff of smoke. Kevin blinked tiredly at him, but didn't dare voice a complaint.
"Sure, let's go with that. I've never really talked with an anti-fairy before, except when you showed up on the doorstep this morning. This could be a great learning experience for me. I mean, I am supposed to be studying abroad for a semester. Maybe I can write a paper on anti-fairies for extra credit."
"You cannot!" came Uncle Denzel's cheerful voice. He rustled Kevin's hair with his big hand before scooting past him to the bathroom. "Oh! Kevin, take that sorry excuse for a lap dragon back home with you when you go. I've got errands to run and a tiny bladder to hold me over. You'll probably beat me there!"
Uhh…
So this was an interesting predicament. Kevin eyed the iguana, who'd shoved its face in Foop's soup bowl and started munching on the last traces of clams. That so-called "sorry excuse for a lap dragon" was still an oversized, shimmery green iguana with a crest like a rooster's and a big throat pouch now dripping with specks of soup. Its long toes ended in creepy, curled talons. Its yellow eyes rolled in its head.
Kevin glanced down at Foop, who stood stiffly beside him in his childish human disguise. He could almost pass as a normal kid, you know… if it weren't for the mustache, goatee, and wide lavender eyes. Those eyes blinked nervously up at Kevin. Apparently, Foop considered touching reptiles to be outside his job description as "Uncle Denzel's best friend" and Kevin really didn't blame him. Even if it sucked.
"Is the iguana invisible?" Kevin asked. It was a really weird question to ask aloud (or silently, for that matter) and Kevin lowered his voice, his eyes darting to Vicky refilling water at the next table over. The diner had been fairly empty when they arrived, but as the lunch rush increased, the clatter of plates and silverware had too. That offered him little reassurance that no one was eavesdropping- a bespectacled redhead about his age seemed to be looking curiously at them both from several tables away. "It doesn't seem like anyone else here is reacting to it."
"It's charmed," Foop said, making some sort of sign with his hands: one palm cupped like a saucer, the fingers on the other splayed and pointing downwards as though gripping a teacup from the top. Apparently, in anti-fairy sign language or whatever, this translated to iguana under a magic spell. Sure, why not? "The Grim Reaper runs a magical pet store out of Anti-Fairy World. It's rare to see him make a personal delivery like this one. He'd rather not draw Jorgen's attention to any of this, especially when Crocker is involved. The iguana's only invisible during the hand-off, giving the Grim Reaper more than enough time to skedaddle off on his own business. Once we bring it outside, the charm lifts and even non-magical individuals will be able to see it."
Kevin didn't bother asking who this Jorgen guy was. The longer he stalled, the higher the risk that Uncle Denzel would come bounding back from the restroom and decide to drag him out for a day of errands after all. No thanks. He still really wanted to hit up the Buxaplentys if he could get away with it. The iguana belched loudly, rasped its tongue around its snout, and crawled over to lick up leftover sandwich crumbs from Uncle Denzel's plate. Kevin took a breath, trying to steel himself to touch it. Foop glanced over his shoulder, lips pursed. He tugged on the front of his blue jacket.
"By the way, I suggest you pick him up sooner rather than later. Otherwise, one of these waitresses might toss him in the rubbish bin, and that will be an event in itself."
Kevin didn't need telling twice, but hesitated a few seconds longer. The iguana held the edge of the sandwich plate down with one of its feet. With every tiny movement, the plate bounced and rattled a little against the table. "If it doesn't scratch my eyes out, that thing might give me rabies. Can you, uhh… use magic or something to make it so I don't get hurt?"
Vicky's nails clicked against the water pitcher. She glanced their way, wrinkling her nose. Kevin shifted his eyes to her, saying nothing. Lips pressed tight. Foop tilted his head. Then he lifted his bat-winged bottle and gave it a small shake. The purple liquid inside sloshed around. Blue sparks leapt from the nipple tip. With a foop! sort of noise and a puff of smoke, a pair of gloves shimmered into existence in the middle of the table, tucked behind some of the napkins and plates. The iguana started, flaring its crest and sweeping its tail. Then it went back to eating crumbs. They were thick, black, padded gloves that would probably keep the iguana's claws from piercing his skin, but Kevin still eyeballed them in dismay.
"Uh. I was kind of hoping for a portable cage or something?"
Foop shrugged. Was that outside his jurisdiction, or was he just lazy? Whatever. Kevin leaned across the table and pulled the gloves closer. They were thick, long, and definitely leather. They ran all the way from his fingertips to his elbows. Kevin tried to act disinterested in the whole event, totally keeping his cool, and ignored the feel of puzzled eyeballs on the back of his neck. Particularly from Vicky. Once both gloves were securely on, he pressed his forefingers to his temples and took another breath.
"Ooh, it's game time. Keep it together, Kevin…"
Now or never. He climbed back on the bench and wrapped his hands around the iguana. It flailed its legs, hissing, and writhed in his hands. Kevin winced as its tail knocked a water glass clean off the table and onto the booth seat. Voices muttered behind him, though he couldn't tell if any of their grumbles were about him. He locked eyes with Vicky again, and he didn't know what she thought he was doing as he scooted backwards, holding the iguana as far from his body as possible. With that, Kevin turned and hurried towards the doors. Foop zipped past him, his wings nonexistent in this form but apparently no less coordinated. He held the glass door open until Kevin made it through.
They were out. Free from judgment. Free from prying eyes and snooty whispers. Hot sunlight beat down on them, leaving Kevin desperate for sunscreen or a jacket. It wasn't even noon yet, but apparently no one had said so to the sun. The heat whacked him like a twisted towel across the forehead. Beads of sweat formed a line along his arms. The asphalt steamed. Foop let go of the Cake 'N Bacon's door and Kevin exhaled. He'd done it.
Then he jolted up again. The iguana continued thrashing in his arms, whipping its tail in all directions. He looked left and right, then at Foop again. "Hey! A little help here? Can't you do something?"
"Do what?" Foop asked, gesturing with vague hands at the hissing reptile. "It's an iguana!"
Eugh. Kevin squinted one eye, trying to keep the claws away from his face. At least he had glasses on. They might offer a minor shield against potential damages. "Well, I can't argue with that. Wouldn't even know how to. It's just that I thought a magical being like you might know more than I do about dealing with… well, this."
Foop dabbed the end of his forked tongue against his fangs. It was blue. "I could eat it, if you want me to. We eat lizards all the time in Anti-Fairy World. They're one of our staple food groups in the food parallelogram."
"Never mind…"
Despite the furious iguana in his hands, it was actually a pretty nice day out. Sure, it was broiling hot and Kevin was grateful he'd thrown on his usual green and white striped t-shirt before he left the house instead of anything long-sleeved, but at least it wasn't raining. Maybe walking home wouldn't be so bad, hissing reptile or not.
Cautiously, Kevin adjusted his hands under the iguana to better support his weight. Once he had a firm hold on it, he brought it a little nearer to his chest. It twisted in his arms, then turned its head to him and went still. Its goopy tongue flicked around its mouth. Kevin glanced at Foop, who did absolutely nothing of value besides vaporizing himself in a cloud of smoke. A second later, the smoke cleared and he was standing there, wearing the furry blue coat of an English foxhound. Like. Literally, Foop had just turned into a dog. A puppy, specifically, if Kevin had to guess, since he was pretty freaking small.
Way too small to help me with an iguana… jerk.
The oblivious blue puppy wagged its tail at him. He had short fur and floppy ears, and he poked out his tongue and began to pant as the sun bore down on them both. Unlike in his human disguise, Foop now had that little black crown floating above his head again. Kevin stared at him in silence, trying to find the words to ask why Foop had changed his shape so blatantly in broad daylight. I mean, they were still standing in the Cake 'N Bacon parking lot. There were people just on the other side of the windows, and it wasn't like this place was tucked down some random suburban side road. Anyone could have seen him.
Did that not bother him? Did he even care? As Denise Crocker's son, Kevin had believed in vampires, ghosts, fairies, leprechauns, elves, and werewolves all his life (well… more or less- his feelings sometimes fluctuated). But in Peachfield, his mother had always gotten strange looks if she revealed the slightest hint of her belief in those types of creatures. Magic just wasn't a thing that most people took seriously. Wasn't Foop worried? What if someone picked him up and threw him down a well like Alden Bitterroot? Yeesh. Even after a night of sleep, that creepy story about the witch and Mr. Cuddles still sent chills up his spine.
Okay, you know what? Whatever. At the end of the day, whether or not Foop wanted to change shape was totally his call. If he was really an anti-fairy (and Kevin had no reason to believe he wasn't), then Foop no doubt knew way more about magic than he did. He didn't need a babysitter. This wasn't his problem.
But… it was probably a little weird to use magic in plain daylight, right? Wouldn't… it be more widely known if it were really real? Like ghosts?
Maybe magic was like Shirley's Pizza, cartoon physics, and the Fourth Wall: one of those things in life you just "figured out" as you got older and it just wasn't polite to talk about it with younger kids. Let's go with that.
"You'll want to go this way," Foop said, trotting along the sidewalk. The nails on his puppy paws clicked on hot cement every time they landed. Kevin raised his eyebrows, mildly surprised that Foop could form English words with a dog's jaws… then remembered Miss Idaho and felt a little stupid. Cradling the iguana to his chest, he hustled after Foop to the best of his abilities.
"Actually, I want to see the Buxaple-"
"Don't step on the sidewalk cracks," Foop called over his shoulder. "You do that and I'll break your mother's back."
Kevin froze, one foot hovering awkwardly like a hummingbird. "What?"
"The cracks," Foop repeated, turning around again. His stubby tail wasn't wagging anymore. "I'm an anti-fairy. I just realized you have no idea what that means. I spread pain and misery wherever I go, except sometimes when I'm off-duty and just hanging out with friends. But if you put one foot on any of these cracks, I'll be compelled to poof off and break your mother's back, quite literally. Well. Almost literally. I won't actually be breaking it, but I'll definitely be giving her the chills and a little pain. Either way, I'm the nearest anti-fairy. The compulsion wave will hit me first."
Uhh… Okay. Kevin wobbled on one leg, then carefully set it down. The iguana bristled in his arms, but Kevin felt like he should take the threat of anti-fairy magic a lot more seriously than a grumpy reptile. "I might be mad at my mommy right now," he mumbled, "but I don't want her getting hurt over it…"
Foop studied Kevin's feet, then nodded once. Short. He turned and started trotting off again. Kevin kept right behind him. He glanced about as he went, trying to form a mental map of Dimmsdale's streets and shops, but that was easier said than done when he also had a squirming lizard in his arms and had to watch out for cracks with every other step. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat.
"So tell me what's up with the animals. I mean, if you know anything about this stuff. I've begun building my own hypothesis… You said the Grim Reaper runs a magical pet store?"
"Oh, yes," said Foop, sounding distracted. His voice floated to and fro like a weaving smoke cloud on a windy day. Kevin realized then that Foop was taking an equal amount of care not to tread on any cracks, moving all four of his feet as carefully as he could. Sometimes, this meant he zigzagged in front of Kevin just to avoid an oversized bush or fluttery piece of litter that might otherwise block his vision. Kevin tried to stay back to avoid stomping over him. "Not all the pets under his care used to be mortal, but a few of the special cases cross his path from time to time."
"So…" Kevin racked his mind, fumbling through a few different ways to breach the topic he wanted to bring up next. He could feel his megalodon tooth bouncing beneath his shirt collar, its point bopping his chest. "Uhh… Have you met Miss Idaho?"
Foop grimaced and swatted an oddly colored snail with one paw. It sailed into the bushes with a little scream. "That korrigan who disguises herself as your uncle's hairless cat? We're acquainted. Her sister is my schoolteacher."
Okay, sure. Add that one to the list. "Magical anti-fairy kids go to school?"
"This magical anti-fairy kid does, but spring break starts today."
"Miss Idaho told me about witches… she said the Crocker family is full of them. Is that why a magical creature like you made friends with my uncle?"
"It's more of a 'wrong place, right time' sort of scenario, but yes. Your uncle and I fell through the cracks of reality and met in the Hocus Poconos."
"Wait, what?"
"The world of erased magical creatures," Foop said, briefly pausing to glance back at him. He didn't continue walking forward until Kevin kept up, then chided him to mind his step carefully as they approached a particularly battered section of the sidewalk (ravished by tree roots that had pushed up the cement). "Thanks to Timmy Turner, we both made it out of there unharmed, but that was a nightmare I won't soon forget."
"Timmy Turner?" Kevin probed the name with caution. He'd only been in Dimmsdale for a little over 12 hours and already, he'd heard that name multiple times. His mind flicked back to the bus stop. "I think I saw him roller skating when I first got here."
Foop picked up the pace, which somehow felt like the equivalent of rolling his big puppy eyes. "Turner gets everywhere; he's my counterpart's godbrother and I swear I can't enjoy school, home, OR my spring break without hearing his name." He paused, wiping one gravel-speckled paw across his eyes, and added, "FYI, if he starts poking his nose in anti-fairy business, you don't know me." Then he stopped, dead. Kevin nearly tripped over him. The puppy's hackles prickled up. "Wait. I wasn't supposed to share that. Forget you heard any of that godbrother nonsense."
Kevin shrugged, electing not to tell Foop that he really couldn't care any less what the anti-fairy was rambling on about. "Your secret's safe with me. I'm only in Dimmsdale until school gets out and then I go home. It's not like anyone would believe me if I shared this stuff anyway."
"… Huh." Foop peered up at him, scratching one hind paw behind his droopy ear. Then he gave his body a shake. His blur fur smacked about with the sound of a wet rag. "Anyway, you asked why I'm friends with Crocker. He's… convenient, really. Jorgen isn't a huge fan of me wandering freely down on Earth, but he's tolerating me on a trial basis so long as I don't go completely mad with power and bring about the end of days. There's a sort of mutually assured destruction between us now, and I'm doing my part to respect the reins."
"Who's Jorgen?" Kevin asked, stroking the iguana's spiky crest.
"He's the Keeper of Da Rules. Uhh… Hang on. That really means nothing to you. Um… He's the Head Fairy of Fairy World. That's where fairies live."
"Right, okay…" Kevin had no reason to believe otherwise, so he nodded to show he understood. At the end of the street, Foop swung a right and continued along the sidewalk rather than crossing the road. His stopped briefly to frown at another oddly colored snail, then gave this one the same swatting treatment as the last. It tumbled into the dark woodchips and disappeared.
"Basically, it's Jorgen's job to ensure the laws of magic function smoothly so the energy field that Fairies breathe from doesn't become hopelessly tangled or polluted. Not only that, but he keeps a close eye on anti-fairies like me to ensure we're staying within the bounds of minor mischief making for the vast majority of the year."
"Gotcha… So if fairies live in Fairy World and you live in Anti-Fairy World… Is there a place where witches hang out, too?"
"'Witch' is a broad term," Foop said, gesturing sideways with one paw. He fell behind to squint at a passing ladybug, then snapped his teeth at it. It buzzed away. He snapped again, leaping up on his hind legs. Then he had to run to catch up with Kevin, who hadn't stopped walking. Keeping pace, the hound continued with, "The term 'witch' is used to describe any creature with one magical and one non-magical parent, or at least used for a normally non-magical person with a magical ancestor in their family tree. I clarify this because there are some witches out there living on planets you consider alien, but many witches do exist here on Earth. Several live in Dimmsdale, actually, so I'll point them out to you if we happen to cross their path. This city's always been a hotspot of magical activity."
Great. So, aliens were real too. No reason they wouldn't be. Kevin nodded. Foop's description of witches matched up with what Miss Idaho had told him in her silky, purring voice, though he sort of liked it better when Foop explained it. Foop talked to him like he was a friend, not just some dumb kid who'd stumbled into the teacher's lounge by accident after school. Which Kevin had done before, trying to find someone to explain his homework assignments after his mom had dragged him out on a night hike to chase a few stray bats. Hefting the iguana in his arms, he said, "Miss Idaho made it sound like Uncle Denzel's cat, Smokey, used to be a witch once upon a time. Is that true?"
"Yes; witches are mortal, but a witch's magic can never be destroyed. Their magical essence won't pass on when they die. Instead, it exits the body and remains on the planet until it again takes on a solid form."
Foop briefly shut his jaws, sticking close to Kevin's leg as a couple of thug-sized boys crossed the street ahead of them. Kevin kept his mouth shut too, reluctant to make noise. In fact, he stopped walking altogether. Two of the boys looked like they were sixteen, at least. Their muscles bulged. They wore helmets, so they were probably heading off to practice a sport or something. A slightly shorter one - maybe thirteen, if that - tagged after them, lugging two sagging duffel bags that definitely held the rest of their equipment. While he didn't have a helmet, he did have an orange baseball cap twisted backwards on his head. One bag had the words Dimmsdale Middle Hockey stitched across the side, so that answered that question.
Yeesh. I don't want to cross paths with them on a dark night.
The boy in the orange cap glanced over his shoulder, teeth clenched tightly at the strain of lugging the bags. He didn't look Kevin's way, though he did stop right in the middle of the crosswalk and remove the cap to fan it across his neck. Only one car and one cyclist were waiting for him to move, and neither dared voice their complaints. The cyclist even ducked behind his handlebars as though he didn't want the kid to see him. And frankly? Kevin tried not to judge anyone too harshly, but he was ready to make an exception. Yikes.
He'd never seen someone with skin that looked so chalky gray and dead. Or so pockmarked, like he'd been run over by a stampede of high-heeled boots and hadn't yet healed. The teen's black hair stood in ragged spikes like improperly mowed grass and he had a chain bouncing from each of his vest pockets. While not as muscular as the older boys, he definitely looked like the kind of guy who would beat up a scrawny 11-year-old if given the chance. Foop's bristling fur told him all he needed to know about the guy, so they watched in silence as the boy fanned his face. When the other boys reached the far side of the street, the last one replaced his cap, picked up the duffels - this time, with no visible sign of strain - and hurried to catch up with them. The streetlight turned green, the car and cyclist rolled out, and Foop exhaled. He started to walk again.
"Most of the time, you'll find that witches are reborn as animals, not humans. I've never heard of a witch powerful enough to continue existing in a human state, actually, so I don't believe it's even possible. We call these ex-witches in their animal forms familiars. That iguana you're holding is made up of your great-uncle Albert's abandoned magic, no longer inside him and now in physical form. But then, I got the impression earlier that you already guessed."
"Sort of," Kevin mumbled. He frowned at the reptile in his arms. "Uhh… Do anti-fairies live a long time?"
Foop gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. His tail picked up its wagging, albeit in irritation. "Well, yes, most of the time… but only if the idiot counterpart they share a soul with doesn't get them knocked off first." (Kevin nodded in pretense that he understood.) "Our lifespans average a million years if we take care of our bodies and magic usage properly, but frankly I'll just be glad if I live long enough to see the next Aurora Fairyalis. The Grim Reaper always tells me I'm destined to die young, you know."
"Yeah, he does that. Don't take him too seriously. Uh, do witches choose what animal they get to come back as?"
Foop shrugged as well as a hound dog could. Okay. Kevin tried again.
"Are familiars still conscious? Or do they think more like animals than like people?"
"Witches and familiars aren't my area of expertise, so I really have no idea. Miss Idaho knows more than I do, though frankly I believe she's already sussed Crocker's magic out as taking on a feline form. She's been in love with him for 25 years, you know. When your uncle finally kicks the bucket, I'll have to ask him. I've already started shopping online for personalized pet dishes."
A cold, gurgling feeling began to build in Kevin's chest. It buckled his knees. It scuffed his sneakers along the sidewalk. He bit down hard on his lower lip. "Uh. Are you going to keep my uncle as a pet when he dies?"
"That's the plan. I haven't run it by him yet because frankly Miss Idaho terrifies me, but it's on my bucket list."
"… You're not going to do that to me, right?"
Foop looked at him in surprise. He nearly put his foot down on a crack in the sidewalk, then realized what he was doing and carefully stepped beyond it. "Well, it's a little soon to start making promises, isn't it?"
Ihh. He looked so creepy blinking up with his big purple eyes, especially with his blue fur and pointy fangs. Kevin shivered. He pressed his glasses closer to his eyes (still balancing the iguana to his chest) and glanced around for a way to change the subject. Aha! "Hey… Do you want to swing by Dimmsdale's Fried Chicken over there?" There was a little store just across the road, and he could see workers moving around inside. It smelled pretty good, too, even from here.
Foop, however… hesitated. "We probably shouldn't. Your uncle found out the hard way that he's allergic to all their secret spices, and I won't take an allergy-healer's class until next zodiac cycle. It may not be worth the risk. Also, I left my wallet in Crocker's car."
"Okay," Kevin mumbled. "It's fine… I just sort of wish I'd eaten more when I was at the Cake 'N Bacon. It's just that it didn't feel right to stuff my face with bacon and cake for lunch. My mom says I'll spoil my appetite if I eat sweets too early in the day."
"You could have requested refills on your bottomless clam chowder," Foop pointed out, jumping over a small puddle near a fire hydrant. He started to walk past it… then turned back and gave the hydrant a few curious sniffs. His black nose wiggled. He leaned down his head, stretching his butt in the air, and wagged his tail as fast as helicopter blades. Kevin paused to watch him, wondering if fairies - or anti-fairies, in this case - went through any minor personality changes when they changed their shape. Was Foop sniffing the hydrant just because he was in a dog's body? Or was that, like, something he would have done even as a weird square blue baby?
Foop pulled back his head, frowning hard. "We'd better tread carefully on the way back to your place. I can smell Doidle all over this thing. We just saw Vicky at the Cake 'N Bacon, which means he must have come this way with her boyfriend. Mark Chang isn't exactly someone I like messing with."
"Why not?" Kevin jumped on the cement curb of a flower bed and started walking along it. There weren't any cracks that he could see along the curb. Plus, the neighboring trees granted him a little bit of welcome shade. "Is he a bully or something? I thought you were a magical anti-fairy and mischief-making was legal. Can't you just mess with whoever you want?"
"Oh, I can… But Mark's an alien. Yugopotamian culture can be quite strange. He'd probably take my messing with him as a compliment and he might try doing the same to me. I don't really want him to know where I live. The giant spider I keep in the dungeon would be like a dinner feast to him, and he might not even hesitate before gobbling it up."
Kevin rolled his eyes. "Of course someone in this town is dating an alien… Why wouldn't aliens be real if magical anti-fairies are? Foop, Dimmsdale is the weirdest place I've ever been. I'm saying that as someone who's traveled to a lot of haunted tourist traps with my mom. And I lived in a town where we had outdoor sock nights and the Grim Reaper worked a third job as a grocery store cashier. Do people really live like this?"
"Oh, you don't know the half of it." Foop took two licks of water from the base of the hydrant (At least, Kevin hoped he'd checked to confirm it was water) and then ran after him. His pawsteps pattered along the sidewalk, long nails scratching. "This area in particular tends to attract a lot of magic users. The Rainbow Bridge touches down just outside the city limits. The capital city of Fairy World floats just overhead."
Kevin glanced up, not sure what he was expecting to find in the cloudless sky above. The sun blazed down like the fiery back end of a rocket ship. Actually, if he'd known he'd be walking home, he probably would have applied sunscreen. His paper-pale skin tended to burn like actual paper. "I don't see any rainbows."
"It's over in the outskirts, near the shopping mall. Actually, I'm a bit concerned about the new buildings in that area because one of these days, it's going to run straight through some rando's house and we'll have to start climbing on rooftops just to get to it. Frazzling the ley lines is killer on my sensitive ears. My counterpart might get asthma if they fritz. But that's not the point. Only Fairies and their godkids can see it. Once the bond is broken, an ex-godkid wouldn't be able to touch it. Even if they knew right where the landing point was and waved their hand around the air. Not even Crocker or Gary can touch it, and they're both witches."
Huh. Kevin slowed his pace. He'd reached the end of the flower bed, so he wobbled awkwardly on one foot and tried to judge whether jumping down to the sidewalk would cause the iguana in his arms to totally freak out. "Who's Gary?"
Foop's nose twitched. "Uh, Hang on. Before I answer that, let me see if I can figure out where we are." The anti-fairy morphed from a canine form to a feline one - just melted his body into a brand new shape - and jumped up on the flower bed curb next to Kevin. From there, he leapt to the lowest branch of the pine tree looming over them. He unsheathed his claws and scrabbled to the higher branches. His tail whipped back and forth.
In that new position, Foop squinted past the streets and city buildings until he found what he was looking for. Kevin could tell. Foop's ears shot up as though he'd heard the pest control truck drive by, full of squeaking mice. "There! Past the chicken building and the pawn shop. Do you see that large building near the woods up on the crest of the hill, with the pointy pencil fence and giant balloons? That's the Learn-A-Torium. Gary used to work there. It's in Ed Leadly's hands now."
This meant absolutely NOTHING to Kevin, but he craned his neck anyway. When that didn't work, he handed the iguana to Foop. Foop stared at it, then poofed himself back into human child form and accepted the lizard with visible reluctance. With his hands finally free, Kevin hauled himself up into the pine to get a better vantage point. The bark scraped his palms, but he grimaced and kept that detail to himself. Foop was a creepy magical bat kid. For all he knew, he also sucked blood. If he cut himself on the pine needles, he'd rather not be blatant about it.
"Oh," he said the moment he saw the building's point pencil decorations. "Yeah, I remember that place. That's on Strawberry Street, up on the hill. That's where the bus stop is. I've been meaning to ask about that. Why's it taped off and labeled 'condemned?' Something tells me there's a story there, and after the weekend I've had, it wouldn't surprise me if it's a magical one."
"It's super cursed," Foop assured him, petting the iguana's spines. "Their animatronics are alive and that ball pit will give you pink-eye!"
Kevin glanced at him sideways. "Uh… Anything else I should know about?"
Foop only shrugged. "Before my time."
"Oh." Kevin straddled the sticky pine branch and fixed his glasses again. It was way too hot out for shivers, but the distant, empty building on the hill still gave him the creeps. Actually, maybe it did send goosebumps up his arms. If Camp Learn-A-Torium had ever been a thriving daycare or community center for kids, that past had probably ground to a halt thirty years ago, if not more. "So this 'Gary' guy is a witch too? What happened to him?"
"Where have you been?" Foop asked, his voice edged with sarcasm. He pointed at his ankle. While it was bare of an ankle monitor, the gesture instantly called to mind the ring of seven blinking stars around Uncle Denzel's foot. "Kevin, Gary and your uncle have been the best of fiends for years! Those two and Remy Buxaplenty almost pulled off the heist of a lifetime up in Fairy World! The Fairy Council slapped them both with heaps of community service for the rest of their witch lifetimes. Frankly, I'm not sure even turning into a familiar will get them out of that contract."
… Ah.
"Still… it beats getting blasted to the other end of the universe. I heard Jorgen's idea was to make a lamp out of Gary's small intestine and to use your uncle's nerves as a windchime."
"Remy Buxaplenty?" Kevin almost fell right off the pine branch. "You know him? Oooh! Ooh, ooh!" Giving himself a shake, he gripped the branch between his knees and stammered out, "That's him! That's my cousin!"
"Your what."
"My grandma said my dad was a Buxaplenty. Elliot; the 10th of 11 children."
"Oh," said Foop. His purple eyes flicked over Kevin from head to toe. His nails tightened against the iguana's scales. "So you're, like… old money."
"Eh, not really. I only found out a few hours ago. I was just going to wander around until I found a post office or something so I could maybe get their address, but if you know where they live, you can lead me straight there instead of back to Uncle Denzel's place!"
Foop glanced between Kevin and the lizard in his hands. "Uhh…"
"Please?" Kevin wheedled. His heart started thumping, louder and louder like the early crowing of a rooster. He clasped his hands, scooting as close along the pine branch to Foop as he dared. The seconds ticked by, louder and longer… and longer. Foop stared down at the iguana, which had cocked its head to watch a butterfly crawl along a higher branch. Carefully, he pulled on one end of his mustache and twirled it in his finger.
"I don't know," he mumbled at last. "I'm not supposed to use magic outside of school, and I'm certainly not supposed to visit fairy godkids…"
No magic? He'd crossed that line long ago with the shapeshifting and iguana-holding gloves. "You don't even have to come! Can you just point me in the right direction?"
"Oh, I'm definitely not coming," Foop said, narrowing his eyes. "I'd be sniffed out if I strayed within 10 wingbeats of that place. But are you sure about this? I mean, it's just… Remy didn't walk out of that heist with Gary and your uncle as smoothly as they did. There was an incident." Foop made a vague gesture at the left side of his body, biting his fangs into his lower lip. "I heard they had to carry him. He has a fairy godparent - Juandissimo - who is very protective of him…"
Thunder rumbled across the sky the moment Foop muttered that last part out. Foop jolted, squeezing the iguana, and glanced up at the sky like he expected lightning to strike him dead. The iguana kicked in his arms. After a few seconds, the boy relaxed. Kevin continued waiting, still breathless, and tried holding back the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him back and forth.
"… and with you looking like a shrunken version of your uncle," Foop summed up, gesturing to Kevin with a flop of his hand, "I imagine that you're hardly their favorite person in the world about now. Crocker is notorious for hunting down kids with fairies and trying to wrench them apart so he might prove their existence to the world. It won't be a good look for you if Juandissimo thinks for even a second that you might be up to something sus."
"Remy's my cousin," Kevin repeated, practically begging with giant doe eyes. "Foop, I never got to meet my dad. He disappeared around the time my mom learned she was pregnant with me. There's no way I rode an 18-hour bus to Dimmsdale and am riding it all the way back to Peachfield without meeting my actual living cousin. I'm gonna track them down eventually, so why not now?"
"It's not smart," Foop tried again. "Juandissimo-"
"My mommy's getting married to some guy she's known for seven years," Kevin blurted, not even caring if he cut the anti-fairy off. Foop's brows shot up when he did, his eyes sparking with surprise or irritation, but so what? Kevin flung his arms to either side, bashing the back of his hand against a pine branch in the process. "I'm about to get a bunch of cousins on Marvin and Molly's side of the family and I don't have history with any of them. I just want one last chance to be a Crocker before Mommy and I become, you know… Oakes. Forever. I'm probably not coming to Dimmsdale for the rest of my life!"
"All right," said Foop, relenting with great sagging annoyance. He clenched his fangs. His breath left him in a hiss. Balancing the iguana in the crook of his arm (and holding it back as it tried to scrabble after the butterfly), he reached behind him and drew out his bat-winged bottle. The liquid magic inside sloshed around again, responding with a glittery glow to the anti-fairy's touch. Kevin sat forward, barely breathing, as Foop met his gaze. "I can understand wanting to spend time with your family… In fact, I just got the news this morning that my own parents disappeared without a forwarding address, and I'm still reeling from that shock and only pretending I'm numb and unbreakable, I don't mind saying. I'll poof as close to the Buxaplenty mansion as Juandissimo's shields will let me drop you. But you won't tell your uncle that I did this for you!"
"Sure, no problem!" Kevin mimed zipping his lips shut with his hand. He started to throw aside the key, then thought better of it. Was it bad to mime gestures like this in front of anti-fairies? If they were magic, maybe it was best not to do anything that could take your voice away. Kevin put the imaginary key in his pocket, tentatively, and tested his lips. They still worked fine. "As far as Uncle Denzel knows, you walked me all the way home and I snuck out while your back was turned."
Hang on.
"Wait… You could have teleported me to another location this whole time? Why were we walking back to my uncle's house instead of using magic?"
Foop looked at the bottle in his hand like it was the first time he'd ever seen it. "I… didn't think of that," he said, sounding genuinely perplexed. Then he shook his head. His curls flopped around his ears. He reached the bottle out again and shook it in Kevin's face, which definitely brought Kevin's excitement down a couple of anxious ticks. "I mean it, Kevin! Juandissimo is Remy's fairy godfather, and he's a very dangerous and powerful one. He's a luz mala, which means he loses absolute control over his magic when his emotions start to flare. You don't want to be on the receiving end of his fury."
"I just want to say hi! Maybe play a card game, get his socials… It'll be totes swag."
Foop grimaced anyway. "Seriously… If you make one false move towards Remy, he will retaliate in defense of his godson. And if you drag me down into that whirlwind of rage, I might take a leaf out of Jorgen's book and design a pretty windchime of my own with any bits of you I manage to scrape off the pavement." He clenched his fangs, bottle jabbing at Kevin's eyes. "Get the picture!?"
"I'm not scared of fairies," Kevin said, though he did curl his fingers more tightly around the branch. "Look, I didn't even bring any loose wires with me when we went to lunch. Not even my screwdriver! I've got nothing on me I could hurt him with. And if it's really that big of a deal to not upset Juandissimo, I'll just ask if I can set up an appointment when things work out better with Remy's schedule. Deal?"
Foop grunted like he didn't quite believe him. He pulled back the hand that held the bottle, waving the nipple point at the reptile in his arms. "Well, just to be on the safe side, I won't be floating around your uncle's house once I drop this new addition to the household off in a tropical cage… Possibly not even tomorrow! It's the first day of spring break and I think I'll spend it lying low."
"Foop, don't worry… We're cool." Kevin tried to smile at him, fixing his glasses since Foop had accidentally knocked them askew with his twitching baby bottle. "I'm not gonna snitch on you to the fuzz… Crocker's honor!"
"That's what worries me," Foop muttered, but gave his bottle a shake back and forth. The liquid magic glowed. Sparks swirled from the tip. Kevin's skin began to tingle up. He glanced down at his arms as goosebumps charged along his skin, like moles digging tunnels at rapid speed. His body began to lift off the pine branch. His fingers loosened. His stomach, spleen, and spine began to stretch, then compress as though some enormous straw were sucking him into a very thin tube. The hairs behind his neck stood at high alert and the blood roared in his ears. Kevin blinked, jaw gaping, and for a moment there… it stole his breath away.
Magic was real. And it was a physical thing. It really hit him then as he began to glimmer with it. And panic lit his veins. It was certainly one thing to watch a strange bat creature - a blue vampire of sorts - morph his shape from dog to cat to human again. And it was one thing to know the Grim Reaper as an old family friend. And it was another thing entirely to hold a conversation with a talking magical cat. But quite another to feel the fire of it flaring like a rocket in his gut. Kevin darted his eyes around as his fingers whisked away from the branch beneath him, like his own skin was twisting into mist. He couldn't hold on. He was sliding away, losing his grip, and when he tried to make a grab for the pine, it passed right through his hand.
"Wait, wait! Does teleporting hurt? Foop, this kinda hurts! I think I'm sizzling! GWIHH! Have you ever done this with a human before? Or a witch?"
POOF!
Kevin peeled away, his eyes blinded with swirls of steel-gray smoke.
