//------------------------------// // Chapter V: Tension // Story: In Search of Mother // by Lunaguy //------------------------------// “Who is she?” Misery stared into the green slime as Whistle shrugged. “I dunno.” “Well she has to have a NAME, doesn’t she?” “Well, it’s not as if we can ask her right now. Not when she’s under all that slime.” “Then get her out.” Misery poked at the mound, watching it jiggle. “Get some water, and give her some air. We need to have a chat.” “Pocket!” Whistle turned and screamed over her shoulder. “Get the bucket you found earlier! Fill it with water!” “Jeez, you don’t have to shout, I’m right here.” Pocket grumbled and rubbed his ears, departing from the group that surrounded the ensnared woman. “And how long has she been like this, again?” Star stared into the slime, taking in the woman’s features. “We got her right after she walked in, which was about thirty minutes ago. While you two were still out.” Whistle pointed to both Misery and Star. “I sent Jet out to find you and let you know, but by the time he got off his butt and was ready to go, you guys had already come back on your own.” “But that still doesn’t tell us why she came here. And you-” Misery pointed an accusatory finger at Whistle, “why didn’t you make everyone hide? Didn’t you say you saw her coming?” “We did hide!” Whistle raised her voice in her own defense. “Faith spotted her through the window and we all took a hiding spot. She only found us because Pocket decided he would practice his circus act.” “Hey!” Pocket strolled through the foyer with an empty bucket in his arms, heading for the bathroom. “It’s not my fault the ceiling decided to fall apart when it did. And I didn’t WANT to hide up there in the first place. Maybe if Faith didn’t have such a giant butt I would have been able to squeeze under the table with her.” “Yeah, well-” Before Whistle could finish, Misery cut off their bickering with a sharp hiss. “Were you all wearing your disguises? She didn’t see any of us in our... normal form?” “I... I’m pretty sure, yeah.” Whistle nodded slowly. “Everyone who was in sight was disguised, anyways. So everyone that mattered.” “So she doesn’t know what we really are.” “To be fair, we don’t really know what we are either.” Star shrugged. “You know, besides just weird.” Misery rolled her eyes. “Even if she doesn’t know what we look like, she does know that we spit green slime that traps people. That should be enough to tip her off that we’re not normal children.” “I need some help in here!” Pocket called out from the bathroom. “This thing is waaay too heavy when it’s full.”         Misery motioned for Star to help, and with a sigh, he left the group and headed for the bathroom. Protests of discomfort could be heard all throughout the church as Star discovered the smell inside, giving Whistle a fit of giggles. Misery watched anxiously as the two boys waddled out of the bathroom together, a bucket full of water between them. Both wore twisted, scrunched up faces as they tried to move as fast as possible away from the stench. “Whoever was in that bathroom before we showed up, they left something of questionable origin in that toilet.” Star dropped his side of the bucket slightly before Pocket let go of his, causing the water to slosh over the sides as the bucket landed at an uneven angle. “I think, at one point, it was organic. Now, I’m fairly sure if it falls under the category of ‘unholy eldritch abomination’.” “Shut up and get to work. I want to talk to our visitor.” Misery pointed at the woman frozen in time. “Jeez, Mis, we were getting to it.” Pocket grunted and grabbed hold of his side of the bucket once more. “Sleep on a pea last night, your highness? You seem cranky.” “Stop talking and lift, Pocket. This thing is heavy.” Star huffed and lifted his side of the bucket with all of his strength. “We dump on the count of three, right?” “Right.” “Right, then.” Star cleared his throat. “One. Two...” The pair swung their arms back to build momentum. “Three!” With a heave, the boys threw the bucket forward, emptying the contents on the waiting face of the woman.         As soon as the water made contact, several children stepped forward to help clear the slime out of the way. Their fingers clawed at the viscous green compound as it started to dissolve, pulling it away from the woman’s face. The layers started to fade away as the water washed them down to the floor, and with a few more tugs from Misery, the final membrane broke away. The woman sputtered, emptying her mouth of both slime and water as she struggled for breath. Misery leaned towards Star to whisper. “I know the bathroom was disguisting, but was that water clean?” “Clean enough.” Star shrugged. As the woman spit out the remaining foreign material from her mouth, Misery folded her arms behind her back and leaned forward. “Name, lady?” The woman blinked a few times, trying to get her eyes adjusted to the light. “W-what?” “Name. Everyone’s got one. I want yours.” “Uh... Molly.” Molly gulped, still barely able to see anything. “Molly McKenzie.” “And who sent you here, Molly?” “No one sent me.” “Answer me truthfully, or we put you back in there.” “I am! No one sent me.” Molly repeated herself, louder the second time. “I was just jogging by like I do every day and I thought I heard some weird noises. So I came in to check it out.”         Misery leaned closer and stared into Molly’s eyes. They locked stares as they studied each other’s faces, now that Molly’s vision was finally whole. Misery nodded ever so slightly and let out a sigh, spinning around on her heel and walking away. “She’s free to go. Pocket, dig her out. Someone else help him.” Pocket groaned and picked up the empty bucket, heading back to the bathroom with a grimace. Star gaped at Misery with a look of disbelief before grabbing Pocket by the arm and motioning for him to stay where he was. “You can’t be serious, Misery. We can’t let her walk away now, she’s seen way too much!” “Yeah, and what is she going to do?” Misery spun around once more, giving Star a deadly glare. “Go home and talk about the bug people from Mars who trapped her in space-goo?” Misery motioned towards Molly, who was still snared chest-down in gel. “You’ll be quiet about all this, won’t you?” “Girl, if you want privacy, you can have it. I’ll shut my mouth and you won’t see me ever again.” Molly struggled around in her prison, trying to get her arms free. “I would make the mouth-lock motion, throw away the key thing, but you know. Still stuck in here.” “Even so.” Star shook his head. “What if she’s lying? She could be with the police. Or higher up in the government. Maybe she’s some kind of crazy UFO lady who thought she’d take a crack at alien hunting. Who’s to say she won’t lie about it now and come back with help later?” “And are you suggesting we take her with us? You don’t think she’ll slow us down at all?” “Well, I don’t see anything wrong with just leaving her here. Someone has to come by eventually, and they’ll take care of her.” “Star, we specifically chose this place BECAUSE people wouldn’t come by on a regular basis.” “For the record, I would like to cast a vote against the ‘staying here’ thing. I enjoy moving.” Molly spoke up. “And, uh, eating and drinking on a regular basis.” “Well, regardless of what we do with her in the end, we can’t let her go now.” Star shook his head stubbornly. “It’s far too risky.” “I don’t care.” Misery crossed her arms. “I’m in charge. I make the decisions. And my decision has been made. She goes.” “I can’t follow through with your decision if it puts us in a position of danger.” Star crossed his own arms in return. “In fact, I say we take a vote for once. Who else here thinks letting her go is a bad idea?” Star turned around and held out his arms expectantly, trying to get a response from the small group of children. Misery glared at everyone in the room. “No one raises their hand.”         Whistle rubbed the back of her neck and awkwardly glanced between Star and Misery. Pocket stared forward in silence for a few moments before slowly raising his hand up to the sky. Several other children behind him glanced at each other before nodding and doing the same, raising their hands as well. Whistle took a sharp breath and nudged her brother. “Pocket! Misery said-” “I’m tired of listening to what Misery says.” He tried his best to pretend like he didn’t notice the burning stare aimed at him from Misery’s direction. “It’s a bad idea, I don’t care how many times she tells us that it isn’t.” “Well, I’d say that’s at least four or five votes against two, Misery.” Star nodded. “I’m sure we can find some kind of compromise that will-” “No.” Misery growled. “There will be no compromise. There are no votes. There are no opinions.” Misery stomped her foot and jabbed her finger at Star. “There is only me, my word, and the expectation that it is followed to the very letter.” With each point she made, Misery drove her finger into his chest. Star scowled and pushed her back, causing her to hiss in anger. “Well, I’m sorry I’m the one to tell you this, sis, but I think we’ve all pretty much had enough of your poor decisions. We followed you because you had a plan. Now, your plan has been wasted. And we’re going with Plan B.”         Misery leaned forward and stuck her face directly into Star’s, locking eyes with him in a mutual unwavering glare. The two opposing forces stood there in the center of the room in without a word as the seconds ticked by, each feeling like an hour. The other children, and one confused adult, watched with interest to see who would win the silent war. Molly coughed and cleared her throat from her position off to the side, trying to break apart the awkward encounter. Misery growled lightly and spun around on her heel, heading for the congregation room. “If you want to be in charge, you’re in charge.” Misery stomped as she left the foyer behind her. “I expect a full route to Las Vegas by tomorrow morning, since you think you can handle it.” Star’s expression softened. “Wait, Misery, hold on. That’s not what I-” He tried to speak to his sister, but she had already left the room. “Ugh. Goddamnit.” Molly frowned slightly as she watched Misery leave. “You two need to have a talk. I used to fight with my brothers and sisters too. Talks solve everything.” Star sighed and stared at Molly for a few seconds, measuring the advice of a stranger. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right. Pocket, keep an eye on... what was your name? Molly? Keep an eye on Molly while I talk with Misery.” Pocket nodded silently as Star stormed into the congregation room after his sister. ~ “Alright... I think... no, I still don’t get it. Start over.” Mistake shook her head in confusion. “Someone tried to shoot you?” “Jesus. This is the third time you’ve made me do this. You get the abridged version, this time.” Anon honked at the car in front of him, which was driving too slow for his liking. “No. No one tried to shoot me. The man wasn’t there to kill me. If he wanted to, he could have done it at any time. So, this is what happened: there was a man in the motel room wearing a trenchcoat and hat. He pointed a gun at me and asked me where you were. I lied and got in a fight with him, and he stunned me and escaped through the second story window. Then I came back downstairs and we left as soon as we could.”         Luckily, after their morning visit, the mechanic had kicked himself into gear. The car was in working condition by the time they arrived, and with a considerably lighter wallet, the duo had taken to the road as soon as possible. Now they drove towards the outskirts of Tehachapi, finally back on their way to Vegas, and Mistake wanted to know what the rush was about. “You said a guy in a trenchcoat? What’s a trenchcoat?” “It’s like, uh... a big goofy mix between a jacket and a suit. Commonly worn by cartoon spies, and sometimes black leather variants make their way onto badass 90’s movie anti-heroes.” “Oh!” Mistake grinned with pride as she remembered something. “I saw a guy like that too! At the diner. He stared at me for a little while. It was creepy.” “Yeah, I figured he had to have been following us for a while.” Anon spun the wheel and stepped on the gas, pulling ahead of the car ahead of him. “And I’m pretty sure he knows what you are. What you REALLY are. He wanted you, specifically, he wasn’t there just to steal my wallet.” “You think he might be a spy? For the government, or whatever?” “I’m not one for conspiracy theories, mind you.” Anon shrugged. “I did stick my dick into some kind of alien, though, so I figure there must be some level of truth to them.” Mistake sighed deeply in thought. “So, you have nothing on this guy? No ID? No name? You said you were choking him, earlier, so you must have seen his face.” “Yeah, of course I saw his face.” Anon nodded. “He... he had a...” Anon seemed disoriented as he tried to think of the man’s face. “A... a big... fuck, it’s gone. I can’t remember anything about his face.” “So, what DO you remember about him?” “Well, he had a really thick accent. I couldn’t tell where it was from, though. Maybe some nordic dialect? Danish or Swedish or something.Oh, and he left this behind.” Anon lifted his shirt slightly, putting the revolver in view. Mistake gasped and brought her hands up to her mouth as Anon let his shirt fall back down. “I know, I know. Guns can be scary. I promise, I’ll never shoot it at someone. It’s only there as a deterrent, to keep people from-” “Can I shoot it? Please?” Mistake’s shocked face transitioned to a wide grin in under a second. “Just at like, a rock or something. Not a person. Well, maybe a person. Just in the leg. A foot. A toe.” Anon took his eyes off the road for a moment to give Mistake a troubled stare. “No? No shooting people? Not even if it’s a bad guy? Alright, I’ll still take the rock. But really, I want to shoot it.” Anon turned back to the road and kept driving. “Well, I was worried that the gun was going to scare you. Now I’m scared that the gun is going to end up in your hands somehow.” “That would be so awesome.” Mistake stuck her tongue out and pretended to draw a revolver from an invisible holster at her hip, taking aim at the windshield. She made a series of banging noises and pretended to blow the smoke rising from her barrel, spinning her weapon and returning it back to her holster. Anon shook his head. “You can get a gun when you’re older. And living a few thousand miles away from me.” Mistake grinned and tipped her imaginary cowgirl hat, chewing on a piece of nonexistent straw. ~ “Misery? Hey,  Misery? Sis? You in here?”         Star called out through the crowd, looking for the girl. The ancient congregation room was falling apart from the sudden unexpected use, with a hundred new occupants to harbor and no one to repair it to its previous condition. Walls peeled and ceilings began to buckle, their weight starting to finally outdo the supports holding them up. As children milled about and wrestled with each other, Star stroked a hand through his short black hair and sighed. “Misery? Hello?” Star paused to poke one of his brothers, Trip, on the shoulder. “Hey, have you seen Misery? Trip frowned and pointed towards the stage. “Over by the podium, I think. She looked like something was wrong.” “Thanks.” Star nodded and patted him on the back before heading for the podium he could see standing over the sea of his siblings.         With a short hop, he found his way on top of the stage, glancing around. Most of his siblings were down below in the pews, leaving the stage nearly clear. A couple girls sat off to the side, one dangling her legs over the side of the stage and braiding the hair of the other sister who sat on the floor in front of her. Star was still unable to spot Misery. He sighed once more and leaned around the side of the podium, finally spotting her squatting in its shadow with her knees brought up to her face. “Misery?” “Go away.” Star crossed his arms and stood there for several moments. Misery didn’t budge from her position. “I just want to talk.” “And I said go away.” Star winced as he heard one of his brothers scream from the back of the room. “Could you have chosen a quieter place to mope, at least?” “There is no quiet place in this church.” “Then give me a second to make one.” Star sucked in a deep breath and turned to face the crowd in rear of him. “Everyone! All’ya! Out! Go in the foyer or something. Meet our new guest.” A wave of disgruntled moans rose up from the crowd as they began their arduous task of standing up to leave, some of them tripping over the clutter piled up in the center of the room. Jet gave Star a nasty glare before being pulled away by the collar by another one of his brothers. He was the last one out the door before it swung shut behind the crowd, leaving the two siblings alone together in the first moment of silence either had experienced in a while. Star sat down in front of Misery and crossed his legs, dropping his disguise as he did so. His human legs flashed with green flame for a moment before being replaced with a pair of holed chitinous appendages. He stared at her for a few moments, not receiving any response. Misery stared down into her lap, knees brought up to her forehead. “Misery. Please.” A few more seconds passed. Suddenly, and without a word, Misery’s form flashed with green flame as well, her disguise fading away instantaneously. Slowly, she lowered her knees away from her face and looked up at Star with a furrowed brow. “What do you want?” Star smiled, almost too small to be noticeable. “I just want to talk. And we should do it while we still can, we don’t know how long this place is going to stay quiet.” Misery scooted across the floor and joined her brother’s side, gazing out over the empty congregation room. The pile of collected trash blended in with the rest of the decayed interior, almost as if it were part of the same whole. Through years of abandonment and neglect, the junk in the church had formed a bond with the church itself. It didn’t make it any more useful, though, and Misery sighed as she took in the sight. “I don’t know what I was expecting from all this… junk. I thought they might find something useful. But, again, guess it was just another one of my stupid ideas.” “Well, that’s not entirely fair.” Star shrugged. “We did use the bucket. And besides, it’s not like they’re doing anything anyways. Might as well put them to work.” “Yeah, I guess.” Misery leaned forward, planting her head in her hands and her elbows in her lap. “It was still a bad idea, though, just like stealing the bus and just like trying to let Molly go. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea from the start. You really should be in charge.” “Well, if coming out here to find mom was a bad idea, then I guess I’m guilty of thinking of it too. So I can’t be in charge either.” Star shrugged. Misery arched an eyebrow. “No, but coming out here was my idea. I was the one that found her online. You helped, I guess, but it was my idea.” “Well, coming out to see mom, yeah. That was your idea. But I was thinking about running away long before you came up with this trip.” Star scratched the base of his neck, looking down at the floor to avoid eye contact with Misery. “I… never really did intend on coming back home at the end of this.” “Really?” Misery sat up, starting to get interested. “Where were you going to go?” “Anywhere.” Star stared up at the ceiling now, recalling past thoughts. “I just remember thinking to myself that anywhere was better than home. I was sick of being stuck in that house, in that town, with nothing to do. It was driving me mad.” Star smiled weakly. “This is, in a strange way, the most fun I’ve had in years.” “What was your plan?” “Get on a bus and go. Kinda like our plan now, but somehow even worse. I would have done it alone, though, I don’t think I could have rallied the others to come with me even if I wanted to.” Star eyed his sister before addressing her. “You’re good at that, you know. Rallying them. They listen to you. They don’t listen to me.” “Well, they used to listen to me.” Misery grunted and flopped back onto the stage floor, staring up at the window in the ceiling as dim rays of sunlight poured in. “It seems they’ve decided they like your leadership more than mine.” “They don’t like my leadership, they like my ideas.” Star corrected her. “There’s a big difference. A leader pulls people together and keeps them together. That doesn’t necessarily mean they know the right thing to do. Sometimes a leader needs advice from time to time so they stay on track. Sometimes someone with better ideas comes in and steals the audience, but then doesn’t know what to do with them.” Star shrugged. “People- and, whatever we are- are weird.” Misery stared at her brother for a long while, taking in his words. Finally, she sat up and brushed her hair to the side. “You’re a smart one, Star. Smarter than me. I should have just brought you alone and left everyone else at home. You’re worth more than all of them combined.” Star grinned. “Maybe we could still do that.” Misery raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue. “Well, what if we just went to Vegas? Just us two? We could leave the rest of them here, and go off on our own.” Misery dwelled on it for a few seconds. “Do you think we could do that? Just leave them here? What if they got into trouble?” Misery rolled her eyes and corrected herself. “Or, should I say, what will happen when they DO get into trouble?” “We won’t be gone for long. Just long enough to get to Vegas, find mother, get some answers, and then get back. Hit and run. We can tell the rest they have to stay here and watch Molly or something. Faith or Jet could probably wrangle them if they get out of control.” Misery nodded slowly. “That could work, actually. It’d make it much easier to use the trains, too. Two passengers are easier to sneak on than a hundred. And, it solves the Molly issue, or at least puts it on hold until after we already get back.” “Everyone wins.” “Everyone wins…” Misery felt her mind begin to wander as she thought upon the option. She sat up and swept her eyes across the wreckage of what used to be a cheerful place of worship. She could almost see the ghosts of the past floating in between the pews as they talked amongst one another and waited for the service to start. She let her imagination run wild, bringing solidity to the shapes: soon she recognized them as people from home. Familiar faces sat in the front row, staring up at her as if she was the pastor on stage about to deliver her sermon. Her brothers and sisters, the old woman she had followed into church, even her father sat on the far end with a bored look on his face. And for the first time since they had left, Misery felt homesick. But something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Misery darted her head to look towards the back of the room. Leaning against the back wall, next to the door, was a dark feminine shape. A horn, crooked and jagged in places, extended from her forehead, and her hair dropped down to her waist. The shadows on her face seemed to shift around, never quite settling into a coherent image. Through the blurred essence, Misery could only see two things: a pair of bright green eyes, staring right back at her. Suddenly the feeling of homesickness was gone, and she only had one thought on her mind. “What are you?” The shadow whispered to her. “Hey, Mis.” Star shook Misery by the shoulder, breaking her concentration and causing the ghostly imaginings to disappear into the air. The shadowy figure in the back was the last to go, fading away with a hiss. Misery sighed in disappointment and turned to her brother. “Yeah?” “Let’s go check the train schedules. We can probably get in and out of Vegas in a day, maybe two if we need the extra time to find mom.” “Good idea.” Misery nodded. “I’d feel better if we brought Whistle along, too. She’s been helpful so far.” “If you’re bringing Whistle, I’m bringing Pocket.” “Fair enough.” The siblings stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before nodding in unison. Star smiled, and Misery’s lip twitched upwards for a brief moment. ~ “Are we there yet?” “I’m going to start starving you of hugs if you ask that question again. I swear.” Mistake rolled her eyes and flopped back in her seat with an exaggerated sigh. “We’ve been driving forever. How far away is Vegas?” Anon glanced at his phone. “Almost two hundred miles. Which is about two more hours, give or take. We left Mojave about a half hour ago.” “Why didn’t we stop there?” “Because we’re already a day behind, Mistake. I promise we’ll stop in Barstow, stretch our legs a bit and maybe get myself something to eat. Then it’s just a straight drive up to Vegas.” Mistake scrunched up her face and crossed her arms. “Oh, alright. Fine. But that’s gonna take ages.” “It’ll go faster if you stop talking.” Mistake glanced at her father in disbelief. “Really?” “No. But if you do manage to shut up for the rest of the drive you’ll make me a proud father.” Mistake stuck her tongue out at him. “Well, you can be all anti-social like that if you want. But I know what DOES make time go faster! Games!” “Oh, God, no.” “Oh, my, yes!” Mistake clapped her hands together, her mood instantly changed. “So, what do you want to play? ‘I Spy’? ‘I’m thinking of an animal’? Oh, we can play the story game!” “I think I’m going to opt out and try and listen to some music instead.” Anon reached forward and messed with the radio controls. After several minutes of cursing and fruitless fiddling, the only sound the radio would produce was a constant stream of static. Anon cursed one more time, for good measure, and shut it off again. “Fine. Whatever. What’s the story game?” “Oh, yeees, that one’s fun.” Mistake grinned wide. “Right, so, I start, and then it’s your turn, and then it’s my turn again. I start with a single sentence, and then you write the next sentence. And we keep going back and forth and write the story together until we finish. Get it?” Anon nodded. “Alright, I’ll start.”         Mistake rubbed her chin, deep in thought, as she tumbled over her knowledge to find a suitable start for a story. Her foot tapped on the floor as she fell deep into her thoughts, leaving the real world behind as she delved into her imagination. Suddenly, she cried out in triumph and shot her hand in the air, startling Anon and causing the car to swerve slightly. “Alright, I got it! Are you ready?” “I’ve been ready.” “OK.” Mistake cleared her throat. “Two cowboys sit across from each other in the dead of night, the only light coming from the stars above and the lively fire making waves of light on the sand between them.” She smiled, proud of her work, and gestured for Anon to continue. Anon nodded and cleared his own throat. “Ahem… the end.” Mistake’s smile instantly dissipated and became a disappointed glare. “You did it wrong.” “I like to leave the rest of the story to the reader’s imagination. Call it an open ending, if you will.” “It’s still lame.” “You’re lame.” “Your face is lame.” “Good thing you’re my daughter and we have similar faces, then.” Mistake let her final retort die, feeling that it had already been bested. She stared out the window and watched the desert sands pass by, imposing her own imagination over it. Desperados rode alongside the car on horseback, dodging and weaving through the desert brush as they fled from the mob of greedy bounty hunters behind them. Suddenly she had the thought of something else to share with her father. “Hey, dad! Want to guess what I found in my sock now?” Anon reached over and turned the radio on, filling the car with static. He winced and put his hands back on the wheel. Mistake covered her ears as her right eye twitched compulsively. “Dad, we already figured out the radio is broken. It’s just static.” Anon turned up the volume and continued driving.