Chapter #108Road Trip, Part 2 by: imaj   You glance again at the dashboard clock – 2 AM. The road is empty, illuminated only by the truck headlights. You might as well be driving through an empty void of nothingness, so little can you see of the scenery around you. The only way to judge your progress is by passing the occasional road sign that counts down the distance to the next town.
Rosalie is awake, but she is silent. She simply presses her head up against the passenger side window and gazes at the night sky with a childlike curiosity. In the back seat Joe snores loudly. The empty drink cup hangs loosely from his hand, his mouth hanging open slackly.
“Does he always snore,” the words float in the air for a second until you realise it was you that said them.
“Hmmm,” murmurs Rosalie, only just now tearing her attention away from the moon and stars.
“Joe. Does he always snore?”
Rosalie gives you an odd look. “I hadn’t noticed,” she says carefully.
“It’s pretty loud,” you say. This is getting a little awkward.
“You want to talk about Joe,” she asks you directly. “While he’s asleep.” You think better of telling her that you and Joe were talking about her earlier when she was sleeping.
“At least it stops him wisecracking from the sidelines,” you say feebly.
“And that doesn’t mean you need to fill in for him,” says Rosalie with a sigh. “How long have you known Joe?”
“A couple of months,” you say after a little thought. “I met Frank and Joe during the business with Blackwell.”
“I hear them mention his name from time to time,” says Rosalie. “But they never talk about what happened. When I ask Joe about it he just clams up. That’s not like him Will.”
“I don’t blame him,” you say ruefully. “It isn’t a happy story. That’s how I ended up like this,” you add.
“You’re not going to talk about it either,” says Rosalie, pitched halfway between question and realisation.
“I’d like it if I didn’t have to,” you say, trying to let her down gently. “Can I just say it was touch and go but in the end we stopped the bad guy at great personal cost. Joe will tell you more when he is ready to.”
“But the boys are still looking for Blackwell,” says Rosalie in confusion.
“I’ve probably said too much already,” you reply, shaking your head.
You sit in silence for a few minutes, your attention focussed on the road. “What do you think of Joe,” asks Rosalie hesitantly.
You take one hand off the wheel to scratch the back of your head. “Joe? Really fun guy to hang out with,” you reply after some thought. “In some ways I regret leaving him to visit Kali in Los Angeles. Kali is another Stellae before you ask. I mean, I learned a lot in L.A., and a lot more in Oxford. But it sounded like Joe had turned the house into a non stop party zone while I was away. That would have been a lot of fun.”
Rosalie giggles a little. “Yeah, there were a couple of wild parties at Joe’s house.” You almost blink in surprise – it’s hard to imagine a bit of a wallflower like Rosalie as the partying type. “I wouldn’t really have gone but Christina kept on dragging me along to them. She was the first friend I made when I started at Eastman and she kept trying to help me make more friends.”
“That’s how you met Joe,” you ask.
Rosalie smiles faintly. “That’s how I met Joe, at one of those parties. It was surprising,” she says hesitantly before starting to speak a little more confidently. “He had one of those cheerleading types hanging off his arm, but he ditched her to come talk to me. At first I thought he was playing some kind of sick joke on me, but he seemed genuinely interested. Afterwards we…” Rosalie tails off. You glance round to see that she is blushing bright red.
“When did he tell you about us,” you ask. “The Stellae, I mean,” you add quickly.
“A few days later,” replies Rosalie, matter-of-factly. “I never thought I would have had that kind of power within me.”
“It didn’t weird you out, did it?”
“Why would it,” replies Rosalie uncertainly. You think back to how Blackwell introduced you to magic. You remember being scared and confused at the sudden change in the bullies at Westside, but you also remember being excited. Excited at the possibilities that were laid out in front of you. You guess you can see Rosalie’s point of view.
“I bet Frank put a stop to the parties when he came back,” you ask.
Rosalie sighs. “Yes, that’s Frank. He’s always so serious and Joe’s always so fun. There’s no happy medium between them.”
“How do you feel about Joe,” you ask without really thinking why.
Rosalie sighs again. “I like Joe,” she says quietly. “We’ve had some fun but…” she glances round at the back seat to check on Joe. He’s still sleeping soundly. “The reason I came to Saratoga Falls was to look for my betrothed,” she explains sadly. You can’t help but note the use of the old fashioned word.
“So you love that guy then,” you ask. “The one you’re going to get married to.”
“Yes… No… I don’t know,” says Rosalie. She involuntarily grasps at her throat, her hand forming a ragged fist. “The guy is a real bastard Will. I wouldn’t wish him on anyone.”
“But…” you stutter. “You were going to marry him, right? And you’ve came all the way to Saratoga Falls from Cuthbert to find him. That’s what you didn’t want Joe to know about isn’t it.”
“Something like that,” says Rosalie looking away from you. She stares out the window for a short while. “What about you Will? Cuthbert’s a small town in the middle of nowhere, how do you know so much about it?”
“Oh I have family out that way. Cousins,” you explain nonchalantly until the gut wrenching memory of hauling your cousin to the secret basement at Blackwell’s house comes bubbling to the surface. Horribly, your mind starts adding things up. Your cousin, Will Shabbleman, came from Cuthbert to Saratoga Falls to be Blackwell’s apprentice. Rosalie came from Cuthbert to Saratoga Falls find her missing fiancé. An aching pit opens up in the seat of your stomach. “His name is Will too,” you say stiffly. “Will Shabbleman.”
“Do you know where he is,” asks Rosalie softly. “Do you know what happened to him?”
What can you say? That you fought for the favour of a monster like Blackwell? That he pitted you against each other until one of you prevailed? That you dragged the defeated Will Shabbleman into Blackwell’s most secret prison and left him there for him to dispose of? You doubt that you can.
“No,” you say weakly.
You don’t hear what Rosalie says in reply. She says it so quietly and is still looking away from you. Maybe it’s your imagination or maybe you’re just hearing things but for just a fraction of a second you think you hear her say ‘good’.
*****
“Hey wake up Prescott,” yells Joe, unceremoniously bringing back to the land of the living. “We’re here.” You check your watch: Mid afternoon – you’ve been asleep for hours
You wipe the drool from your mouth and make a vague attempt to fix your hair so it isn’t in flying off in every direction before crawling out of the back seat of the truck. Frank and Joe’s Dad’s house is a modest tract home behind a chain linked fence. There’s nothing to distinguish it from the dozens of identical home on either side of the street. A small part of you is disappointed: This is the seat of a millennia old tradition of magicians?
Joe pushes the gate open and disappears inside as you open the trunk and haul out that suitcase of yours. Another car pulls up behind you whilst you are still fishing around in the trunk. You suppress a smile when you turn round and recognise the battered, worn and barely roadworthy junker.
“Rick,” you say when the equally battered and worn driver climbs out.
“Squirt,” he says noncommittally. Rick frowns and looks past you. You track his gaze to where Rosalie is getting out of the passenger side door.
“This is Rosalie,” you explain. “She’s the new member Joe found. Rosalie this is Rick Bredon.”
“Hello Mr Bredon,” says Rosalie shyly.
“Just Rick,” he replies, still frowning. Abruptly the frown vanishes, but he’s still looking at Rosalie, not you.
“Hey Rick,” calls Joe, bounding out of the house. He half runs over. “I gotta tell you, Prescott here made a mess of the challenge you set him.” You scowl at Joe.
“Getting through the airport,” asks Rick, his eyes narrowing.
“He means getting him and Frank’s imago,” you explain. “Getting through the airport went fine.”
“You’ll need to tell me about it,” replies Rick.
“I worked out who he really was as soon as I saw him,” says Joe a little too smugly.
“Actually Mr Bredon,” interrupts Rosalie, ignoring Rick’s protestations of ‘Just Rick’. “Will managed to get both Frank and Joe’s imagos without either of them noticing.” Joe looks stunned at the interruption, not quite believing what he has just heard.
“It’s true,” you admit. “I can show you once we get inside.”
Rick barks a short laugh. “I guess you can tell me about that too,” he says with a rare grin.
“Can I find out where I’m putting this first,” you ask, indicating your suitcase.
“Nice suitcase squirt. Colour really suits you.”  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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