Chapter #15 - Keefe
Amy was frighteningly stubborn.
From her sharp, green-eyed stare to her fierce stance to her sure words, it was clear to Keefe that there would be no changing her mind. So he took a few deep breaths and focused on how he was feeling at that moment to stay calm— except calm wasn't really a word to describe Keefe Sencen.
And, if he was being honest, he mostly felt... cold.
"It's fr-ee-z-in-ingggg," Amy said, beating him to it. All Keefe could do was nod in agreement. Even though spring was beginning, it was still awfully chilly. He tried to find a trail of warmth in the air he could use to help regulate his body temperature— but didn't have to as soon as he felt the warmth of someone's hand on his shoulder.
He turned around. There was a couple— a woman and a man— both with white-blonde hair and gray eyes. Human eyes.
"You must be lost," the man asked. Based on the perplexed look on Amy's face, he must've asked it in another language. But Keefe was still too caught up on the words themselves. "You must be lost" was the first thing Keefe had ever said to Sophie. Just the thought of that happy memory in his favorite ditching spot— which now seemed heartbreaking to think about— made Keefe get choked up.
It was so.
Hard.
Not.
To.
Think about her!
"Uh, we're..." he said in the man's language— probably Swedish. It was so strange to Keefe how humans spoke different languages depending on their culture. Though, he supposed, it would've been pretty helpful to know multiple languages for pranking if he ever needed to tell someone his plan without adults understanding.
He tried to think of a quick cover story. "Yeah, we're lost. I'm Keefe, and this is my sister Amy. She can't speak Swedish, but we were, er, camping nearby when we got lost."
Concerned, the woman asked, "Without your parents?"
"Our parents, uh, trusted that I could watch Amy without them. We need somewhere to stay for the rest of the day, and tonight." That could buy Keefe some time to come up with a more permanent lodging idea.
"You can stay with us," the man said, "We were out for a hike and live a few miles away." He pointed to a nearby tree, in which there was a clunky machine with four wheels and the word 'Volkswagen' on the side. "We can drive you back to our house."
Keefe looked at the machine in abject horror.
This must be what humans called cars.
He had seen them plenty back when he was in Cambridge— and on the other times he had been in the Forbidden Cities in the past— but he never considered he'd have to ride one.
Amy looked at his expression, amused. "It's just a car," she whispered in what was either English or The Enlightened Language. Either way, the Swedish couple didn't understand it.
He whispered back, "We have to ride in it?"
"Or we could just leap back to the Lost Cities..."
Keefe shook his head. He wasn't going back. It was too dangerous.
The man led them to the car, the woman following. "I'm Alice," she said, "and this is my husband, Elijah." Keefe nodded as he crawled into the back of the car, terrified as heck. But he couldn't go back.
He had to stay.
***
"Make yourselves comfortable," Elijah said, "My wife's cooking dinner, but in the meantime, we should probably call your parents so they can come get you. I assume you don't have a phone, or you would've called them already. Do you know their phone number?"
"Um..." Great. Another thing he hadn't thought through. Keefe wished he had planned this runaway as meticulously as he had planned the Great Gulon Incident.
Amy whispered to him a number, and said, "Tell them that. It's my old number from when I was Natalie Freeman. The phone's destroyed now." She seemed almost sad as she said the words.
So that number was exactly what Keefe told Elijah. He looked satisfied with that and began calling.
Keefe and Amy had ridden in the car for a whole horrifying 10 minutes before arriving at where Alice and Elijah lived. The house was... small, to say the least. It was two-stories high, with a wooden log cabin sort of vibe and 4 bedrooms. Keefe wasn't sure if that was considered a nice house to humans, but by elvin standards it was absolutely teeny.
Still more comfortable than Candleshade could've ever been, though.
There was something inherently nice about the friendly Swedish couple. It made Keefe wish with all his heart that he could've had parents like that. Instead, he was stuck with a father with expectations far too high and a psychopathic murderer for a mom. Bonus: Gisela gets to give him creepy powers to help fulfill her weird legacy.
Ah, Mommy and Daddy Dearest!
"You're not gonna be able to do this forever, you know," Amy told Keefe when Elijah and Alice were engrossed in making dinner and calling a nonexistent phone number, "You just aren't."
"I'll figure something out," he muttered. And he would.
At least, he kept telling himself that.
They heard Elijah put his phone down. "Your parents aren't responding. You can stay with us for a while."
"Do you guys like sausages?" asked Alice from where she had been cooking, "I'm making Fläskkorv."
"What are sausages?" Keefe asked.
Alice laughed, "You're funny. You know— pork sausages."
Pork. As in meat? Animal meat?
Ew.
"Okay..." the woman said, looking perplexed about the disgusted expression on Keefe's face. She turned to Amy, "Do you want some sausages?" Amy nodded as if to say "yes please!".
Keefe didn't eat anything that evening, the abundance of worries in his mind compensating for the lack of food in his stomach.
***
It was dark. But Keefe couldn't sleep.
He was laying on the course sheets of the bed in one of Alice and Elijah's guest rooms. They said he could stay there for a night— with Amy in the other guest room— before they would have to take them off to find their parents.
Which means Keefe had a day to plan things out.
What fun.
But he couldn't focus on anything— or get any rest so that he could focus better later.
He needed to get up. Go somewhere. Do something.
So he got up out of the bedroom and crept out the back door.
It was far past midnight, which meant it was very unlikely there was anyone awake at this point. Alice and Elijah's house was pretty remote, so it's not like they had any nosy neighbors nearby anyway.
As Keefe stepped outside onto the spacious field near their house, a chilly breeze trickled his face. But he didn't care. He felt free.
He didn't have to worry about numbing anyone, because there was nobody to numb.
He didn't have to worry about anyone seeing him, because there was nobody to see him.
And the darkness felt strangely relaxing. For the first time, Keefe finally understood why Bangs Boy was always into darkness and all his Shade-y stuff. It was pretty nice. Darkness didn't expect anything from you. You could let out whatever you wanted— darkness wouldn't judge.
So he took a deep breath, and shouted loudly, "I hate Lady Gisela!"
There. He said it. He hated his mom.
That's when Keefe thought of another thing he wanted to shout. Something he hadn't technically said before— but it was about time.
So, at the top of his lungs, he announced, "I LOVE SOPHIE FOSTER!"
Boom.
It was true.
And it felt so good to finally say it.
Keefe turned around with a clearer head, ready to sleep now. He felt like a whole new person. But then he saw a familiar 12-year-old brunette girl.
Amy's eyebrows were raised so high, it looked like the wind might sweep them off her forehead.
"Don't tell your sister I said that, okay?"
She just smirked and pretended to zip her lips.
So they walked back to the house, but as Keefe was passing by Amy, he accidentally touched her arm. It felt super cold— but not just from the chilly outdoors. It was like...
"Wait a minute," said Keefe, eyes widening, "You're a... you're a Froster."