Hans
"Last night Dindolcon told me a lot." Emmeline takes a breath in. And as she exhales I do not hear her words, I see them drawn out like a play. The warnings, the tellings, I see the emotions, the fear, the confusion. I witness what are not Angels. They appear to me as ballerinas and I fear what they do not understand. They are not power hungry, they see themselves as power deserving. They know their excellence and see it as a kindness to even think of sharing themselves with those grounded to Earth. I see the mistreatment of the JIBBOO, no, the Translucent, from being left as Demons. I see the predictions and I accept them. But I have a question.
"Why did the kitten-as-the Grinch make you decide upon nothing?"
"Hans, that isn't the part we should be focusing on." Lochlan makes an attempt to dismiss my confusion.
"But it is though. There's something wrong with it. Emmeline, do you know why—"
"Hans, I really don't want to be rude but I need you to not focus on that part." Lochlan's teeth clench not quite rudely. His hands shake not quite nervously. His eyebrows pull upward not quite unapologetically.
"I'm not one of them." Dumaine holds fear in his eyes. He was tired, but now, there's just terror. Emmeline takes his hand, stepping away from the center of the room. She has finished informing us.
"So does this change our plans, my sweet?" I wonder to Emmeline.
"That depends, what exactly are our plans?"
"Nevada, to speak with the Reaper-Mother," Dumaine softly informs her, his head almost hanging.
"I've set it all up. Already bought the tickets for the bus. There's a hotel I've booked about a mile away from where the Reaper-Mother should be. I've packed necessary items for the both of you and—"
"You're not coming." Emmeline's statement sits in the air like the stench of week old roast beast. Lochlan's head falls. Dumaine's head lifts.
"I'm sorry. I'll still be helping you, just from somewhere else. And you can call me. Drexel gave Hans his phone so—"
"I don't need a phone, I have Amistifer. And I think Osinsius too." She's stepped forward, her posture almost threatening. I offer a smile, but her eyes are focused on Lochlan. "I don't like this. I'm not happy. And I still can't figure out why you remind me so much of my father. When does this bus leave? I'd like to run through New York." Her words are rigid.
Lochlan answers with apology in his eyes. "The bus leaves at eight, we've got two hours."
"Well we better get a move on! Emmeline would like to run around New York and I know just the place to let her loose!" They all turn to me and I give a grin. They all return it. That's better.
****
I can get to Central Park from anywhere in New York. The park is the first place I remember since boarding the boat. I can always see it.
I lead the others. Emmeline is holding on to Dumaine behind me, telling him theories about how she believes Maddy would love it here. Lochlan is on guard in the back, staring a second too long at every JIBBOO we pass. I'm now noticing how many Seussical creatures I've overlooked every day. How many misplaced fountains, disco balls, and chandeliers I stared at but never realized were stationary creatures. And I never paid attention to the fact that I can see the wind. Rainbows that zoom by, some so fast they are a continuous streak of pastel light, like a ribbon, forcing speedy gusts of wind. Others meander, creating deeply saturated swirls that pass a gentle breeze through your hair. Now I understand why others are never as constantly happy as I. It's amazing to witness the colors of the wind.
I see the excitement growing in Emmeline as we approach the park. Confetti that bursts around her, leaving a trail of glitter for Lochlan to step on. The soles of his shoes now look like a young girl's arts and crafts project. But of course I am the only one who can see this.
"Alright Emmeline." Still holding onto Dumaine, she hops beside me. "Stay where I can see you."
Her eyes grow for a split second before turning to slits, her head tilting. "I don't know where you can't see me."
"Just stay inside the park." My voice is a smile
"You can see the whole park?" She breathes in, her body growing with air.
I respond with a grin she throws brilliantly back at me as she finally exhales. It's a treat to see this side of her. Even if there is a light fear tickling the back of her throat.
Taking Dumaine's case and shrugging her backpack off her shoulder, she sets them down by Lochlan's feet. And she's off. Dragging an unprepared Dumaine behind her. I could really go for some applesauce right about now.
Looking around the park, I don't see just the lawns of grass. The umbriferous trees, the long walkways, the hill-like rocks, the puddles from the early morning showers. I see all that cannot possibly be seen. And it's almost sad how I cannot tell the others what I see because it is so indescribable. If the Opaque have vision half as precise as mine, I honestly cannot blame them for wanting to crawl to Earth. How horrible it must be to constantly be falling away from such... I cannot even find one word to begin to name the marvels I see.
Lochlan stands stiffly beside me. I do believe he's remembering whatever it was he had been doing so well not remembering earlier. The poor boy is so uncomfortably still, small children are beginning to stare and the dogs bark at him as they pass.
"Is there anything I can do to help you show off those teeth you're hiding?" I watch Dumaine climb a rock while Emmeline runs circles around it, laughing. Now she's joining him, taking his hand and leading him to the peak of the boulder.
"Yeah, actually." Lochlan's voice is shaky but he's sure of his words. "Can you, at some point before you guys get to Nevada, tell Dumaine"—he pauses for a moment, almost giving me a smile—"'Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.'" His almost-smile blossoms for nearly a second, quickly fading. He backs away from me, turns, and begins walking toward his next destination. Goodbye, Lochlan.
I watch Dumaine cautiously make his way back down the stone, careful not to go tumbling to the ground, while Emmeline tosses herself down headfirst, jumping, sprinting, bouncing, landing on the grass in a summersault. She grabs Dumaine's hand and takes off again. They stop beside another boulder and Dumaine points from one rock to another, about a hundred feet apart. I see his mouth form words but I don't hear them. Emmeline's spirit is enormous in her tiny body. A seven-year-old at the park with her best friend. Dumaine throws a hand in the air and Emmeline is off. She's sprinting from one rock to the other, her hair a black streak behind her.
I glance around at the JIBBOO near me. One hangs from a tree, swinging back and forth, a bat with a turtle shell and fluffy toes. Another is almost a dog, barking and running, but with pink polka dots, three tongues, and a spine that bends in directions it should not. I do wonder if what I see are what the JIBBOO actually look like or if my mind is replacing them with the silly creatures I'm more used to looking at.
A toddler-sized one is sitting under a tree. It reaches out, grasping for a fly that won't leave it alone. And it misses. The JIBBOO is moving so slowly it wouldn't be able to catch a caterpillar crawling up a tree. It brings its hands down beside it, pushing itself up off the ground. But it can't. It's slipping, falling back down.
It's sick. Just like the first one I saw possess Emmeline. Looking around again, I can see the sick JIBBOO. There are so many. Some worse than others, but I can see it now. Dr. Fonsfvic must be very busy.
For an hour, I watch the early risers of New York strolling along. Parents and their youngest children, artists with their sketchpads, fitness enthusiasts with their dogs, even some tourist. From my bench, I laugh at the way Emmeline drags Dumaine around. He does a fantastic job with her though. Giving her challenges no fifteen-year-old body should overcome. And not once does a JIBBOO try to possess her. They all seem distracted by the park itself. But now the two walk toward where I sit, not tired, but...
"Hungry?" I ask.
Dumaine shrugs his shoulders, watching Emmeline snatch her backpack from where I've set it beside me. She plunges her hand into it, digs around a second, then presents a bear-shaped bottle. Raising it above her head, she squeezes the honey into her mouth. "I think that's a yes." Dumaine grins.
"Well how about a New York hotdog?"
Thank you all so much for reading! Don't forget to vote and comment! Have you ever been to Central Park? What do you think is making the Demons/JIBBOO/Translucent sick?