Floodlight Page 15

  Reclaim? I guess I had never thought to ask—we’d been pretty busy—but I thought we, the good side, had been in charge. Apparently not. The sun darkened, and ravens poured in from all sides, blotting out the light. The chant of the monks 5000 miles away was joined by the jiujitsu fighters:

  “Wolves are always followed by ravens!”

  “Scavenging for the kill!”

  “Eat fast, ravening wolf!”

  “Ravens follow five and twenty!”

  “Cleansing the world of unworthy prey!”

  “Taking out the weak!”

  “Consuming the meek!”

  “Wolf-Raven cycles this world to the next!”

  This was bad. I could no longer hear the voice of the scribe, and darkness continued to obscure the sun. The ground shook and the wind lessened. That’s when my wife took flight. Her head seemed more elongated and her nose like a beak. Oh my God! She reared back her head and let out a war cry like I, or for sure anyone in Merryville, had never heard. “Mitzi?” I said quietly, but she couldn’t hear me over the chanting and the otherworldly sounds. Ekk ran forward after disentangling himself. “No!”

  Too late.

  Mitzi, the avenging griffin/angel took flight and headed to the darkest part of the raven pack. With that weird bird cry, she quickly took control of the area. With a few powerful swoops of her wings, the ravens were disrupted, letting the true sun shine through again. The heavy swoop of her wings brought back the wind, and I could again hear the scribe, although his voice sounded tinny and far away. Each time the ravens were in disarray, the sun shone through again.

  The gi-clad martial arts fighters faltered as if their life line had been diminished when this happened. Then their attack would renew. It was so surreal, standing in the open lawn area of a museum in my home town, watching my wife become someone I didn’t understand. I felt so useless just holding my place and wanted to run to Ekk. Instead, I did as I was told and stood on “North.”

  The sight of Mitzi flying was scary. Would she ever come back to me? After this, could she be satisfied sitting with me on our couch? Suddenly, it occurred to me the answer was right around my neck. The pendant! I covered it with my right hand and closed my eyes, having no idea how to activate it. In my mind’s eye, I saw Mitzi fly back to position. Had I done that?

  DOWN THE STREET, sirens could be heard, and Dick Mortimer peeked out his living room window. “What the Sam Hill is going on?” He cinched his robe and looked back at his sleeping wife. Her snoring had kept him up, and for once he was glad. Slipping his feet into Derek Rose house shoes, Dick called Gary Smithers at his home number. The phone rang and rang; finally, a very grumpy voice said hello. The call was quick and other calls were then made by Smithers, while Dick, chairman of the board of the museum, decided what to wear to a police matter.

  ELSA WAS CLEARLY exhausted, and I worried about her state of mind. Intermittently the chaos would calm, and I even saw a flurry of flower petals a couple of times, but it seemed to take everything she had just to keep the portal open. I emptied my mind and squeezed that pendant, wishing that good would happen, not knowing what that might look like at this point.

  Then I heard sirens. What would the police make of this mess?

  Fiona, who had been missing in this pandemonium, suddenly appeared, her men snapping pictures wildly with a camera. Of course she would show up now. I dismissed this thought and turned my attention back to our ritual. As the scribe finished in a language I couldn’t understand, Juniper and I shared a look that communicated our concern for our wives. Mitzi was fully griffin and Valerie was fully...something Native American. The whole event was surreal. In the center of the mat, I heard a sound like a match being lit, and suddenly a rainbow shot up to the sky from right in the middle of us.

  Wolfrum’s voice came through then, cold and clear. “Enough.”

  Ehren’s voice said, “Agreed.”

  Immediately, the Brazilian jiujitsu fighters collapsed like puppets whose strings had been cut. The ravens cleared out quickly into the night sky, and the portal started to close.

  “Hold your places just a moment longer,” Ehren said. The wind died down. Just as quickly, Mitzi crumpled in her spot, and Valerie’s Native American garb dissolved. Then, it was dark. After a beat, I heard traffic sounds, punctuated by sirens. This is the soundtrack of Merryville. I looked at Ekk, not wanting to mess anything up by going to Mitzi.

  “It’s okay. Go to her,” Ekk said, holding Elsa.

  The confused fighters made their way back to their cars and drove silently out of the parking lot. A couple ran down the bluff.

  When the last car left, the police moved in, in a comedic ballet of timing. What a scene it must have looked to the police. Fiona’s men were expert at melting into the shrubbery, and that’s what they did. A coterie consisting of Mortimer, Smithers, and several officers approached our disheveled band standing on a mat with weird symbols in the midst of the green space. I was on the ground stroking Mitzi’s hair. Juniper and Val were talking quietly. Elsa and Ekk had disappeared; I hoped it wasn’t because of lack of food.

  Dick Mortimer looked amused as he walked up to the crumpled mat. Juniper’s usual coif was a mess. “Juniper Gooden, you never cease to amaze.” He dramatically turned to Councilman Gary Smithers and said, “Most people stop digging when they find themselves in a hole.”

  Juniper, glassy eyed and tired, said nothing.

  The young officer in charge had been pulled from his regular patrol and wanted to get on with his night. “Is this trespassing?” he asked Dick Mortimer, who appeared to be in charge. “There’s only the four of them.” When Mr. Mortimer didn’t answer, he said to us, “Ladies, you need to move along. The museum is closed.” A camera flashed from a distance.

  “Stop taking pictures!” Dick Mortimer yelled to the direction of the flash.

  Officers gave chase, and at least three flashlight beams searched for the source of the disturbance, landing on museum shrubbery.

  “Officer, arrest them, all of them!” Gary Smithers shouted.

  “For what, sir? I was sent here to check out a disturbance of the peace. Seems like things are settled down.” The officer hooked his thumbs on his belt, clearly aware he was being used by the expensively dressed man for his own private agenda. I liked his independence.

  Dick Mortimer was having none of that. “It’s some kind of weird lesbian thing they’re doing, and, and that woman,” he said, pointing to Juniper with a shaking finger, “was fired and has no business being here at any time. Arrest them!” A car door slammed in the nearby parking lot. Dick Mortimer looked at his watch, then back at the black-and-white, smiling when he saw Detective Potts.

  The old detective was finishing up a cigarette and was ready to flick it out to the street. Upon seeing he was the center of attention, he ground it out on his heel and put the butt in his pocket.

  The young officer stepped back and let Potts in their circle. “Let me handle this,” Detective Potts said, and moved to the front of the group. “I don’t know what this is here, but”—he turned to me, Mitzi, Juniper, and Val—“the museum closed hours ago. You’re trespassing. I need you all to come downtown and answer some questions.”

  “About what? If we were trespassing, we’re sorry and ready to leave now.”

  Mitzi looked at me after my brazen response, I think with a modicum of pride.

  “About trespassing. Let’s go.” As he said this, he put a meaty hand on Mitzi’s arm.

  “You can’t do this!” I was outraged and started toward him. Valerie held me back.

  Potts turned to Dick. “You pressing charges?”

  “Absolutely. Yes.” The director gave his most evil smile. “And I want a restraining order against Juniper Gooden.”

  At this, she roused and looked straight at him. “Really, Dick, are you serious?”

  “You’ll have to do that down at the courthouse,” Potts said. “This is a misdemeanor, and I’ll handle that.”
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br />   “You work for Dick Mortimer now?” Juniper asked, some of her élan regained.

  “No, he works for me,” Gary Smithers, city councilman for the district, said. “And I work for the mayor, who works for the city. Comprende?”

  Dick Mortimer looked at Smithers and nodded.

  “Cuff ’em,” Potts said gruffly.

  Upon his command, uniformed officers moved forward and roughly began handcuffing all of us.

  Gary Smithers nodded curtly. “You can handle it from here. This is clearly a police matter.” He turned to walk away. Suddenly, a spotlight shown on him, and the lilting voice of Fiona Castlebaum echoed off the buildings, eerie in the mostly empty space. “Garrrry, smile for the camera!” The darkened area was bathed in light. Flash cameras photographed the scene from all angles. “This is what you do to the most amazing curator this museum has ever seen?” The men looked around, squinting at the light. Guns were drawn. Gary Smithers quickly got in his car, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed.

  “Search the area!” Potts yelled at his men, grabbed my arm, and led me toward a car. It felt like paparazzi were present as photo flashes went off.

  Mitzi didn’t look so good. When the ritual was over, her wings retracted, but she was very pale and limp. “My wife needs a hospital. Call 9-1-1”

  “We are 9-1-1,” Potts growled. “What’s she on?”

  Squeezing my pendant tight, I yelled at Potts, “Nothing! This is a medical thing.” I kept wondering when that damn pendant would kick in.

  “What’s wrong with all of you? You have no idea how much disruption your shenanigans have caused.”

  I could see through the smeared back window of the cop car; police were literally beating the bushes, looking for ninja photographers.

  I heard Dick Mortimer say patronizingly to Juniper, “It’s just mystifying. You were fired, and now you show up in some drug-crazed lesbian ritual thing? I thought you would be at the board meeting tomorrow. Instead, you’ve gone completely insane.”

  She looked at Valerie and ignored him.

  He became angry at her silence. “Do you really want to take the museum down with you?”

  Juniper now looked at him with an expression that was hard to read. “What time?”

  “What?”

  “The board meeting. What time?”

  “Two p.m. Whatever. You are so done.” He walked toward the museum, shaking his head.

  The cop car Mitzi and I were put in took off while Valerie and Juniper looked on helplessly. My hands were behind my back, and the car smelled of vomit. I yelled through the scratched plastic to the men in the front seat, “Hey! My wife needs a doctor.” The driver ignored me, picked up a mic, and started talking cop code into his radio. Mitzi’s head lolled on my shoulder, and I was very worried. Is this how it would end? After going to the other side of a planet and completing the rainbow whatever? Oh God. I started to cry.

  The squad car pulled up to the Merryville Police Department, and we were led into booking, where we were photographed by a tired-looking older woman in an ill-fitting uniform and put in a holding cell. Juniper and Valerie had still not arrived. I had Mitzi in my arms as I protectively held her. She murmured as if in a dream. They breath tested us, but nothing registered. “Hey, I get a phone call. I need to make a phone call.” I might as well have been shouting into a void. Mitzi seemed to wake, but very slowly.

  It was now about three-thirty a.m., and we were both still exhausted. A jail cell isn’t a place of rest. My cowlicky hair was completely out of control, and we probably smelled after all that travel. There was one toilet in the corner, and I was contemplating having to use it. After all we’d been through, that was one thing too many. I stared at the ceiling, prepared for a long night, when the jailer returned. “You must have some pretty important friends is all I got to say.” She unlocked the door. Even with a full bladder I was moving pretty good and dragged my groggy wife along with me.

  Mitzi and I stumbled down the corridor to the booking area. A dapper little woman with her arm in a cast and wearing a neck brace waited for us. Her eyes were fiery under her fashionable glasses. My mouth dropped open. “You’re Ms. Stephanovsky, right? Are you here for us? Who called you?”

  She looked pale, but determined. “Time for that later. Come with me.” We were led back to a desk on our way out, and I was handed a manila envelope with my things in it. Too tired to really study what was in there, and still worried about Mitzi, I gratefully followed our attorney to her rented vehicle outside the precinct station. Alexandra explained that she had gotten to the museum right after we’d been taken in the squad car and was able to keep Valerie and Juniper from the same fate we suffered.

  After some argument about going to the hospital, we went straight home. Mitzi wasn’t going to spend one more minute away from Brutus and familiar surroundings. Alex looked like she could use some rest herself. Mitzi was coming around a bit more, and I doubted the local hospital had what she needed anyway.

  I led Mitzi upstairs, and we collapsed into bed without even showering. We spooned so close that Brutus sat atop both of us, in a show of big cat love. Before I fell asleep, my mind registered that we had traveled across the globe, participated in an ancient ritual we didn’t really fully understand, and been thrown in jail. I wondered what my office would look like after being attacked.

  The next day, I woke at one p.m., which was really late for us. As I sat in bed watching Mitzi sleep and breathe, I hoped that she’d still be satisfied with our little life after the adventure she’d tasted. My finger traced the slight bumps on her shoulders. I got up and went to the kitchen and started the coffee. Through the front window, I saw crime scene tape still marked off our lawn, a piece flapping in the breeze.

  A few gawkers stared at our house as they went about their dog walking and lawn mowing. It was time to return to normal; I only hoped we could. I looked in the fridge, which was pretty barren, but managed to find a tin of cinnamon buns. I preheated the oven and poured a cup of coffee, already soothed by the old rhythms of life. I smiled. Did I really punch out a dwarf?

  By the time Mitzi awoke, the yellow crime scene tape was in the dumpster and coffee was waiting. Cinnamon rolls were buttered and iced. She looked at me from the comforter with heavy eyes and yawned. “Smells good.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  “Wow. Did we really get thrown in jail last night?” Brutus jumped up on the bed, wanting to get in on the conversation.

  “Yep.” I kissed the top of her head.

  “And the rest of it, could all that be real?” She looked to be on overload.

  “Have a cinnamon roll.” My go-to heal all...sugar.

  I heard a knock on the door downstairs that led to the backyard. We looked at each other quizzically, but I jumped up and motioned for Mitzi to stay put. “Whoever it is, I’m getting rid of them.”

  Mitzi found the controller and clicked on the news.

  I looked through the glass at the top of the door but couldn’t see anyone. Thinking it was neighborhood pranksters, I turned to go back upstairs.

  “Hey. Panda. It’s us.”

  This time I poked my head out the window and saw a tired and dirty couple of elves. “Elsa! Ekk! Get in here before someone sees you.”

  Both of them were half dissolved, and I knew what to do.

  “Mitzi. Bring the cinnamon rolls.”

  She came downstairs with the plate of food, a light-blue robe wrapped around her slender body. “Oh my God, are you guys all right?” She shook her head. “Wow, this is real.”

  Between shoving rolls in his mouth, Ekk said, “We’ve been running all night. I don’t think anyone saw us come here.”

  “I’m so sorry. We must look a fright.” Elsa tried to tuck her hair in a scarf.

  “As soon as we get you fed,” I said, “you two take a nap. Any news about the others? And what happened with the ritual?”

  Ekk looked uncomfortable.

  “Tell her,” Elsa
said.

  “Well, it was a partial success. We showed stronger than anyone thought we would, but Wolfrum still has power.”

  “But isn’t that an epic fail? Weren’t we trying to get rid of Wolf-Raven?” Mitzi was distraught. “I thought the idea was to usher in four generations of rainbow peace between all nations, and everything.”

  The front doorbell rang.

  While Ekk tried to explain that the mixed result was certainly not as bad as it could have been, I went to the front door, wishing we were still sleeping.

  Juniper and Val stood there looking bright and shiny, with Whole Foods bags. We hugged and they went straight to the kitchen, for that’s where we always ended up.

  “Tea?” I reached for the electric pot to heat water. After all the events, a tea party seemed a little weird, but it was a first step toward normalcy.

  “Yes!” came from the elves in unison.

  Valerie looked at me in my dishevelment and said, “I’ll do it.” She set about putting hot water on, a comforting task. “We brought you some groceries. Jun and I got to sleep a long time before you did. Alex filled us in.”

  I took the groceries and started stocking the fridge, only leaving out bacon, eggs, and fruit for preparation. All this struggling for good against evil gave me a tremendous appetite. Also, I didn’t want our little friends disappearing on us.

  Mitzi took her place at the kitchen table. “So what happened?” She clutched her cup, putting her elbows on yellow 1950s Formica. She looked so sweet in her blue robe against that color. I was glad we were home.

  “Oh my God, it was fabulous,” Juniper said. “Alex roared up in her little car with that sling and neck brace. Potts turned white. She was furious and kept pointing at his chest and calling him Detective Putz.”

  I snorted out some coffee through my nose, laughing. “She got away with that?”

  Valerie and Juniper shared a look then just laughed. “Uh, yeah.” Apparently the sartorially resplendent barrister was a force to be reckoned with.

  “Did they arrest her?”

  “Oh they tried. Dick was screaming his head off.” The two women laughed again. “Fiona’s crew caught the whole thing on film. Then she shared some rather, um, personal pictures taken in Merryville while we were in Germany. Pretty soon the officers realized it wasn’t a police matter.”