Chapter Seven

In the parking lot, there was chaos.

Mexicans - the few that there were in the Pacific Northwest, came streaming out of the kitchen, much like the panicked patrons through the emergency exit and front door. They were scared and confused, and certainly not sticking around for more ranch dressing for their fries or a third refill on Mountain Dew. There were groups of teens yelling for the rest of their party, running to their cars. Families who had made for a late night snack were huddled together, comforting each other. Weirdoes and goofballs found sudden sobriety in the wee hours of the night, stunned and wondering if they we still tripping or if they had, in fact, barely avoided a melee - complete with inexplicable arachnid orbs and rejects from a goth corporate training video- break out in the tranquil camp of prime diner Americana.

Lester’s mitts were wrapped around Dave’s collar and Pam’s right bicep, pulling them behind Harry, who was trying to keep up with the effortless dodging and sorting past cars and people that Mr. Face was demonstrating. He moved gracefully, almost as though he was floating, navigating the obstacles with uncanny smoothness, as if he was performing a dance move that had been practiced again and again. They had made it to the sidewalk at the far end of the lot when Mr. Face, like he was on a pivot, turned around completely, surprising them; his outstretched hand almost literally stopping their aggressive gait. And while self preservation giving them every reason to keep moving, they still obeyed.

“It’s time to go our separate ways”, he said. His yellow eyes narrowed as he looked over at Lester, and his hand moved into a point, leveling his gloved finger at Dave. “Get this one home.”

Harry dissented. “We can’t take him there…we’ll probably have these bozos showing up there too, if there’s not more of them already waiting.”

“No, not there. Home. To Somerset.”

There was about to be protest from Lester and Dave, but there was something too persuasive about how he ordered them to go. Harry was struck by their compliance. Two days ago his partner would have sooner tied Mr. Face to a chair and made him spill his info than be bossed around, but there wasn’t the slightest trace of disagreement.

“C’mon pilgrim,” Lester said to Dave, “lets see what other babel Nimrod here has to say. It’s a long trip to Kentucky.” Lester looked over to Harry and nodded in an act of comfort, seeing the growing puzzled look on his friend’s face. “We’ll be fine,” he offered, and then headed in the direction of his car. Harry waited a moment until Lester and Dave had turned the corner and gone before addressing Mr. Face.

“Listen Hrel, or Mr. Face, or what ever you’re calling yourself - I don’t know what your purpose is here but nothing but trouble’s been happening since you showed up, and while my partner may like your ideas, I don’t. And I don’t like how much you seem to know about our…,” Harry paused, choosing his words, “business.”

“Now Mr. Turquoise, shouldn’t you really be asking yourself why, if I know so much about you, why is it you don’t have the slightest idea about me?”

Harry looked over to Pam, who had not reacted to his real named being mentioned. She had a somewhat catatonic stupor about her look, facing in towards their conversation, but hardly paying attention.

“You know how this works,” Mr. Face said to Harry. “And I happen to find this body…useful. Much as your little seer was a comfortable place for my counterpart to host. It’s the only way we can exist in your dimension, and only the strongest forms can bridge the limbo to allow us to cross over. This…thing is going to blow through here like a tornado though a trailer park, unless some of my kind can keep the others from arriving. And I think you very much do not want my enemies to show up.”

“We’ve worked hard to made sure that you humans understood enough about what was happening to not interfere. But some of my counterparts have gone native and have other ideas. You’d been given information and had a role to play finding Ruahadavalat for us without alerting our presence, but now we’re so far beyond being back where we started, we don’t even know where to begin or how to guide you.” Mr. Face spoke the next words with sinister emphasis. They. Are. Coming. And protection is now farther away then before”

“We’re not about to put on tin foil hats and start chanting if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“If that brings you comfort, then by all means, but you’re missing it. Just like you did in Missoula.”

Harry’s stomach dropped like it was sucked into a black hole within him. He felt hollow. Was Hrel in his head, thumbing though his thoughts and memories as though he was perusing a magazine stand?

“Go back to Montana and see what you missed. Your lady friend was on the right path before she got too close. Stop wondering and worrying about me and start seeing the obvious.”

“What about her,” Harry asked throwing his thumb over at Pam.

“I’ll see to her…now go!”

It felt strange for Harry to dislike Hrel but still trust him. The safest place for Dave was with Lester, and having them get out of the city would put them as far away from the attention of Dave’s notoriety. It was an easy button to push, to make him want to try and find closure on Ahern’s disappearance, and it made him discount Pam, who was vulnerable in her vacant, disassociated state. He had no car there, but it didn’t stop him from trotting off towards his place, imbued with purpose.

There was less flurry outside the Denny’s but it was by no means a safe place to stay, and Hrel knew it. “Pamela Brody,” he said, “we must take leave of this place.”

She followed him, dazed, pulling her like a balloon on a string. They crossed the street and made a few turns heading down the alley that ran between the non-descript buildings. Hrel spoke, even though it was unclear even to him if she was actually cognizant of what he was saying. He reached into his pocket and put his goggles, which hid his unearthly amber eyes and made his mummy visage strange, but not alien had he been seen.

“I must admit that in my time amongst you, I have grown found of your ways, and feel your species deserve to live in spite of the suffering and misery that seem to be the hallmark of your daily activities. Somewhere inside, there is the kernel of goodness, an optimism that compels you to rise up each day and face the burden of living. I think that’s a noble pursuit, and should our battle cross your path, it would be unfortunate to wipe a planet of young life with such potential out of existence.”

Pam stood there, blinking occasionally, but otherwise unresponsive. A cylindrical silver bar the size of a pack of breath mints slipped into his left hand, and when Hrel moved his thumb over it and tightened his grip, it started to telescope a slender blade from the end. He kept his hand low and concealed behind him.

“If I did things their way, I’d have a magic wand, and convince you to forget all of this, but you’ve stumbled upon something that you shouldn’t have being in the wrong place at the wrong time. There are casualties of every war and collateral damage, and if it brings you any peace, know that mercy is often the hardest to offer.”

In an instant, there was contact. Unexpected. Both of them stood there for a moment as if time had been grabbed by the throat and held against the wall. There was another quick burst of movement. Then another. Pam threw a fourth punch, then a fifth, drilling her fist squarely into Hrel’s face. She cocked her arm and delivered blow after blow with machine-like repetition, following his crumpling form to the ground and continuing to wail on him. Her knuckles were lacerated and bleeding from glancing off the frame of the goggles, but she didn’t stop punching away. The bandages were soaked through with blood and the sound of her fist striking his caved in face was no different if she was slamming her hand into pulp. Something inside Pam had snapped. Seeing her lover killed before her eyes, being caught in the building collapse, running from attackers in the restaurant – all of the shock and stress and fear had overloaded her. But out of that tumult came a sudden clarity and focus.

Pam had not always believed what Dave said, but she had believed in Dave. The reaction, the impact of the show was what kept the oddity at bay, and she realized it now. They had been pushing each other, like a brash couple in Las Vegas, daring one another to go through with an ill-thought out quickie wedding that would only lead to regret. It was a roller coaster ride that just about cost her her life, and she was getting off. There had been plenty wrong in her past, but she had recently been as peaceful as she could remember – and now it was gone. She pictured the bandaged soup of what was Hrel’s face as Dave’s as she pounded it. When there was no feeling left in her hand, she stood up, fist dripping with blood.

Revenge, she thought. Brother Dave was a harbinger of doom, but with all he knew about and from Ru, he could have done more than just cry warnings. He should have done more. He should have kept everyone he was dragging into it safe. He should have told her the truth sooner. He should have kept the disastrous night’s events from happening. Perhaps there was cosmic death and destruction headed their way, but Pam was going to see that she stood over David Bullock’s dead body first.

---

By 1pm on Saturday, the Greyhound had pulled into the Vancouver terminal. Ivy was tired and hungry. She had slept very little waiting for the 8:45 bus out of Seattle, and she wasn’t entirely certain why she’d gone there. It was hazy what happened the night before. Ivy recalled heading to SCANTV to see Brother Dave and watch his show, hoping to talk with him afterwards, and running through the side door as the make up girl left to smoke a cigarette. The news replayed the building collapse, and had she not seen it on the TV in the Stewart St. depot, she wouldn’t have remembered it happening, let alone escaping it. There had been a faint sound, a voice, not coming from any specific direction or place, but she was sure she heard it. It said “north”, and while she didn’t have any idea how she made it back to the hostel to grab her tote that was nearly as large as she and filled with all her belongings, Ivy ended up getting her ticket and hunkered down until the boarding call.

As soon as she turned 18, Ivy left home, and for almost a year she’d traveled all over the country, becoming pretty adept at urban survival. She lived frugally and would do odd jobs for extra money when she wasn’t selling handcrafted jewelry while she went from town to town. Some days she’d bounce through a state with only stops to sleep. Other times, she’d crash on a sofa for a week, or make friends with strangers who’d become hospitable. Ivy was polite and charming, even though she was a fairly quiet girl. Perhaps it was her petite size or doll-like cuteness, but people were taken by her.

There were times Ivy started to nod off, but she never fell asleep, even when she closed her eyes. She had hoped to, but there was that voice again. At first it was just noise, like a distraction, but soon it was a whisper, talking to her. It was talking on and on, and she couldn’t make out most of what was being said, but it went almost continuously through the night and on the bus. At her most lucid she would imagine that it was telling her a story, and that would help send her off into sleep, but soon after it would rouse her and she’d be awake again, trying to tune out the sound when she wasn’t able to understand what was being said. It may not have been in English most of the time, and possibly several different languages and tongues that her typical education had not exposed her to.

A diner was across from Thornton Park, outside the central station area, and she sat at the counter with her bag of everything. It was pretty empty, the only other people inside other than a waitress and the cook was a large man at the end of the counter and a couple in a booth in the opposite corner of the place. The bearded man at the counter had looked up when Ivy came though the door on account of the jangling bell attached to it, but she garnered no attention otherwise. Like ears popping and clearing on an airplane, the static-y chatter of the voice had gone when she got off the bus, and she was relieved to be able to eat without the noise.

Ivy ordered a chicken soup and was sipping at it as she looked at the TV in the corner. It was typical Saturday afternoon programming with re-run shows, but she was taken by the commercial that was airing. A heavy man was bouncing enthusiastically in a green spandex bodysuit.

“I’m Johnny Cabbage, and we’ve got lots of new and used vehicles for you!”

He rolled over hoods and tumbled across truck beds backed up to each other. He pointed at cars off camera, and the cuts would jump to him frolicking about the cars. He did a number of outdated dance moves with the glee of a madman.

“Come down to the Cabbage Patch,” he smiled, “and lettuce make a deal!”

A baritone announcer gave information and directions, as Johnny Cabbage did the “cabbage patch”, pumping his arms and swinging his hips. The commercial ended and M.A.S.H. faded back in. Ivy went back to her soup, and then looked up at the other patron at the counter. She was turning back to her food and made a double take. She leaned over on the adjacent chair, trying to decrease the distance between them, about seven stools.

“Excuse me sir,” she asked.

He looked over at her but said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t mean to bother you, but you kinda look like that man in the commercial.”

He smiled and had a muffled laugh.

“That is you, isn’t it.”

The man put down his fork and stopped eating. “Not for a few years, but yes.”
He was grayer in the beard, but he was about the same size. There was sadness in his eyes even though he had smiled at Ivy’s recognition.

“What do you mean?” She wasn’t trying to rude or pry, she just didn’t understand his response.

“I haven’t run my car business for quite a while. Lost it to my ex-wife when she divorced me, and her stepsons got it from her before they sold it.”

“So why are they showing you in the commercial?”

“I can see you’re not up to speed on our legend and lore, miss,” Johnny said, “but that there is a local classic. Got even bigger when the kids put it up on the world wide web. My neighbor’s son said there’s even people dancing in green outfits in their own videos. I was upset at first, thinking they were making fun of me, but it’s really flattering, and if it’s worth a laugh or two then it doesn’t really hurt my feelings.”

“Can they do that?”

“Show the commercials? Sure. May not draw more business, but they say there’s that name recognition. Helped me get my job now too.”

Ivy stayed attentive, so he continued.

“I work for an electronics store. Used to be the biggest in town. The first, actually. But over the years larger companies and corporations moved in, and people just seem to like going to those places more. The owner is a very sweet old lady, and I just hope that there’s still a few more years left in that place, because that’s all she has.”

Ivy looked at him for a few moments with her brow furrowed. She smiled with the warmth of a child looking at a present on Christmas morning.

“You should do another commercial. For your owner. It’ll help, I’m sure of it.”

Cabbage thought about it for a moment and smiled. “Hmmm…maybe we can. Can you come to Zabba’s TV Electronics on Monday? She’ll be there, and I don’t think I can convince her alone.”

He wrote the address down and passed it over to her. “It’s on Kingsway, south and then east of here.”

Ivy took the paper and folded it into her pocket. She had almost two days to spend seeing the city and becoming familiar with it until her appointment with Johnny Cabbage. And Ru had two days growing from a whisper to a clear voice she would start interacting with.

---

Lester called Harry from a pay phone at a rest stop outside of Drummond, MT. It was almost sunset.

“I really wish we didn’t go running off in the middle of the night…we had to stop at Wal-Mart to get clothing. At the last place we ate, somebody asked if we were going to a volleyball game.”

Harry laughed. “How’s our package?”

“Cranky. Tired. Quiet. He’s not talking much, and when he does, he’s irritated and then clams back up. Losing that voice in his head musta screwed him up more than when it was barking in his ear.”

“How long until you hit Somerset?”

“Couple more days”, Lester said. “We’re barely a third of the way. Wish I realized how much fun 2600 miles would be before we left. Sounded like a better idea at the time I guess.”

“No, it probably was safer to get out of town, although I’m thinking that whoever showed up last night may head out to his parents, so be careful when you arrive.”

“I hear you. Those Chicago agents…have you checked with them?”

“Not yet.”

“I don’t think you should,” Lester told him. “Better we ride into town without anybody knowing, including our own people. If they are ours.”

“You’re not feeling too trusting, are you?”

“Well, until three days ago, I thought we were the only muthafuckas setting up government officials to get arrested for sex acts in bathrooms and getting child actors hooked on cocaine. But with that Mr. Face getting all up in our business and sayin’ him and his spooks are checkin’ us out, I just don’t feel so good when other folks know what we’re up to. I mean, I dropped the Nova before I left town and picked up a rental car just to slip anybody who was trying to follow us.”

“Are you clean right now,” Harry asked.

“So far, but if there is trouble down the line, I ain’t carrying any gear with me…didn’t have it in the Nova.”

“I’m not carrying either.”

“Where are you?”

I left the city too. I’m heading back to Missoula to see if I missed something about…,” he paused and then said, “Ahern.” It had almost a dirty connotation to say it. A swear word.

“You mean A.W.O.L.,” Lester said skeptically. “She probably left the reservation, and if I was going to do the same, you bet I’d go without a trace. You don’t think leaving is just as simple as giving two weeks notice?” He sighed. “Damn…wish I had known you were thinking about going back - we just passed through there a little while ago and this would have been a better ride if I’d had you along. What’s the angle?”

“I think there’s something we missed there…a clue, a hint, a signal – any little thing that may have to do with what’s going on. Maybe it just wasn’t obvious to us then because of we were looking at the wrong signs.” Harry didn’t want to even mention that Hrel suggested it, even though he had sent this partner to Kentucky as a chauffeur without protest. “You said yourself that if Hrel ended up with her sheath, they could have something to do with Angie disappearing. Either way I should go back”

“Either way we’re both chasing answers down and we don’t have the faintest idea of what questions to be asking. I hate being on the catch-up end of things. We gotta know who’s with us and who’s against, and in the big picture how we keep our heads down and stay outta the scuffle between these two sides.”

“And make sure that it doesn’t come to that. How the hell are we supposed to get out of the way of this if they’re coming to our doorstep?”

“I’m going to see again what Bullock has to say for himself. Maybe a family reunion will put things on track. I’ll check back with you if I get something…”

---

It would be a few days before Hrel stirred. His body was in with piles of rubbish and mostly concealed, and those who passed by or through the alley ignored what they figured was a drunken, passed out homeless man. Blood had caked the cracked goggle lenses, which made seeing that much more difficult beyond the cracked orbital bone and shattered nasal cartilage, but he picked himself up and started along the wall, hand out reading the brick for information and guidance. It was rare for Hrel to be taken but surprise, but he had not anticipated Pam would go berserk and wail on him until he’d lost distinguishable facial features. Good for her, he thought, smiling beneath the wrapping with his fractured jaw and near toothless mouth. She was far stronger than he had given her credit for, and while he still felt that he’d have been doing her a favor ending it quickly, he had no desire to follow through with it. His attention was once again back to finding Ru, whomever might be the host, and hoping that it was before his enemies did. But first, there was the tricky business of navigating nearly blind to a place where he could tend his wounds.