This choice: Tell Joe what you can do • Go Back...Chapter #46A New Mask by: Seuzz   A long day and a harrowing night finally give way to sleep; but it's sleep at the zombie-hour of four A.M., and Joe's alarm shrieks in your ear only two hours later. Still, it was long enough for a nightmare in which Joe removed your face and stuck his hands in your skull, where he seemed to be rewiring things. The real horror came in the dream when you "realized" that you'd asked him to do this.
You shamble into the kitchen and look through the food stocks. It's either peanut butter or cereal for breakfast, unless it's peanut butter on your cereal. You glance briefly into the living room, to see Joe, still in his clothes, sprawled stomach-side-down on the sofa with his arm trailing on the floor. He raises a heavy eyelid, grunts, and closes it.
You're carefully chewing the last few mouthfuls of cereal when he comes padding in, looking as ill-rested as you. "'M sorry 'bou' las' night," he mumbles as he drops heavily into a chair.
"I'll forgive you if you let me try something," you reply. He screws one eye open and one eye shut and looks at you sideways. "Don't take this the wrong way, but ..." You reach across the table for his face. He pulls back, then with a snort and a small smile relents and leans forward. You pluck at his face and at his forehead. He's clean.
"Think I was outta character, huh?" He yawns and stretches. "Oh, fuck me, but I wasn't. Frank always seems like he's a little pissed off, but he never gets much worse than that. Me, I'm always cool and happy, but when I get pissed--" He makes an ugly face. "Better to have Frank mad at you. He's had a lot more practice keeping control." He hunches, and there's a shake in his sigh. "I came real close to losing my shit last night."
"It seemed like you did."
"I didn't," he says quietly. "Or you wouldn't be here to listen to me apologize again. I'm very, very sorry." He drops his forehead onto the table.
"Joe, I've got something else to tell you," you say, taking a deep breath. "I think I could make us some masks."
Joe doesn't stir, except to raise a middle finger at you. "I'm not trying to get a rise out of you. I'm trying to be totally honest with you. You, uh, seem scared of what I did last night, and it seems like you were mad because you thought I was hiding a secret from you. I don't want you thinking I'm hiding anything from you."
"Frank has the book," he mumbles. "And Dad will have it by tomorrow morning at the latest. You can't do shit."
"But I think I can. I know all the spells. It's like I see them right in front of me."
"But you need the sigils in the book to execute them."
"No I don't." That causes him to raise his head. "It's how come I was able to beat Frank. He had the book, but I was able to make sigils without it."
Joe studies you gravely. "This is important if true," he says. "But we should confirm it before getting our knickers even more twisted up."
"By making a mask?" you ask with a half smile.
"Yes," he says quietly. "Except we don't have any supplies and we don't have any money. We'll have to get some from Prescott--"
"I'm pretty sure you cleaned out his savings," you say. "I never got much of an allowance, and hardly ever had more than thirty dollars at any one time."
"Fuck," Joe says after thinking for awhile. "I'm gonna take a shower and go for a run. Maybe I'll have an idea when I get back."
* * * * *
The idea, when it comes, is to call his dad. "I hate asking for money," he says as he dials the number. "It means we've fucked up. Hi Dad," he says into the phone, and even you can hear the slightly metallic insincerity to his happy tone.
The conversation is full of pleasantries, and it takes awhile for Joe to get to the point. "Um, listen, the reason I called--besides getting to hear your voice--is that Prescott and me are tying up loose ends, and we have some one-time expenses that will need defraying. I was wondering if you could give us next month's allowance a little ... early?" He grits his teeth, and then his eyes pop and his mouth drops. "Whoa, you what? Really? Oh, man! Dad! You are TEH AWESOME! Awesome is as awesome does, and you-- Does Frank know yet? Well, I'll set his half aside. Wait, his third?"
He grins over at you, and repeats lots of variations on many high degrees of gratitude before hanging up, to leap in the air and punch at the ceiling with a fist. "Greatest Dad Ever! I'd buy him a coffee cup with the slogan, but he already has a dozen."
"We're getting some money?" you ask, though the answer is obvious.
"And not an advance on our allowance, either," he exults. "He transferred a two thousand dollar bonus into our bank account last night. Half of that is yours, cocksucker!"
Your jaw drops. "For what?"
"For a job well done! He wants us to invest it in clean up operations, and then there'll be another bonus after that!" Joe rips open a kitchen drawer and pulls out a debit card. "Ten-twelve is the PIN number. Number of planets, number of constellations. Also, Frank's birthday, but you wouldn't remember that. While I'm at school, you do the shopping. Food, mask stuff, whatever you think we need." He leaps against the wall, planting both feet on it, and bounces off.
* * * * *
You are actually very careful with the money, and even take the bus around town, which means it takes a while to do the errands. Joe expresses dismay over your food choices when he gets back from school, and says he'll make his own grocery run later. He ends by slyly asking, "Did you cook up anything else?" and waves his fingers in front of his face.
With some reluctance, you fetch the mask you'd made. His lips disappear as he takes it. "Is it good news or bad that I can do this without the Libra?" you ask.
"It's news," he says. "Let's leave it at that for the moment." He shoots a you a keen glance. "Does it work?"
"It has to be polished first." You snatch up a paper towel left over from last night and show him how to do it.
"How long would it take?"
"A couple of days, if we're actually going to--"
He abruptly disappears down the hallway with the mask. You frown. It's a good thing it will take a couple of days; lots of time to talk him out of--
You blink as he returns. He hands you the mask, which glows bluely. Your jaw drops. "How did--?"
"Another one of my gifts. And now I'm starving. I haven't eaten in the equivalent of about thirty-six hours."
* * * * *
You splurge with an early dinner at a steakhouse, where Joe eats for two. "We're gonna have to tell Dad about this," he says over the meal. "And I'm going to ask him if we can use it to do undercover work."
"Joe, if you think it's a bad idea--"
"That's why I'll be asking him. Frank and me were hampered because we could only nose around. Getting really close to people, though--" He stabs at his potato. "Probably you should be the one doing it, but I should be close by." You hold your tongue, lest the phrase "absolutely no good" come tripping off it. "I should talk to Kali first, though," he continues thoughtfully.
"You mentioned this Kali person last night," you say, grateful for the distraction. "Who is she?"
"My mentor. My trainer. The real expert on essentia and ousiarchs. I sent her an email from school about you and that business last night. I hope she'll reply or call tonight. Oh, I should tell you the names of all the people who might be calling. You shouldn't just let the phone ring, because it might be important."
The names--Kali Valentine, Rick Bredon, John Reilly, Nash Carnes, and Ed Lewis--don't mean anything to you, of course, though the last-named sounds like a real piece of work based on what Joe has to say about him. "He's the one you don't want to hear from. Nothing against our spiritual counselor--that's what he is--but he's a great believer in tough love, the tougher the better." Joe's face draws up in pain. "Poor Frank," he mutters.
"When are we going to hear from Frank?" you ask. You don't wonder what kinds of words Frank would have for Joe and this aborning scheme, just what kind of volume he'd scream them at.
"Tomorrow at the earliest," Joe says. "He's not eager to get there, so he's making it an easy drive."
* * * * *
The wish is the father to Joe's reality: a little after seven the phone rings, and his joyful exclamation of "Kali!" after he answers tells you who it is and how happy he is to hear from her.
They talk for a good long while, though she's the one doing the talking, for Joe's end of the conversation is muted and cryptic. He ends up handing you the phone with a quizzical smile.
"Mr. Prescott?" the soft but melodious voice on the other end says in a charming Scottish lilt. "So delighted to speak to you." You murmur your own pleasantries. "Joseph says that you are aiding him with his current assignment. Would you be averse, however, to flying out to California for a few days to meet with me?"
* To stay in town with Joe (non-canonical choice): "Reflections on the Moon"   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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