Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The Hero's Journey

As we reach the 30th installment in this series inspired by the Thursday Prompts over at Poetigress's place, I would remind folks that this logically indicates there musta been 29 previous installments. Specifically, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, and 29. Use this info as you see fit.

This 30th, though, comes from the phrase "taking a stand."

     Which was how, after what seemed like weeks even though it 

was less than half an hour, we all finally started off under the 

clear blue of an early summer evening: Deena and her father 

walking ahead of me, his hands in his pockets, hers fiddling 

with the sleeves of her windbreaker, me rolling along behind, El 

Brujo and Heather in my lap, Serena on my shoulder.

     A light cackling from the big ficus between the street and 

the sidewalk just outside the front gate, though, told me that 

wasn't all of us, too.  "You need air support, 'Mano?" Jefe's 

scratchy voice asked.

     But before I could answer,--  "In the trees!" Heather 

barked, leaping and spinning from her spot beside El Brujo, her 

paws barely reaching halfway up my chest, her eyes big and black 

and shiny.  "Thousands of them, Mr. Augie!  But I'll protect 

you!  I'll tear out their throats, soak my fur in their blood 

till it's even redder than--"

     Deena looked back in alarm, and I quickly said in animal 

talk, "They're friends, Heather, friends you can meet later if 

you're good.  But you need to behave now, or Deena might think 

you're not happy to be coming along."

     "Deena!"  Heather sprang away from me, raced down my 

thighs, and took a stance on my right knee like the figurehead 

of some old sailing ship, her tongue lolling out, her tail a 

blur.  "I am as happy as the clouds in the sky when they get all 

big and light and fluffy and floaty!"

     Smiling, Deena reached back and scratched the little dog's 

poofy ears.  "Everything all right back here?"

     "Bliss!" Heather announced, her eyes rolling shut.

     I nodded, shrugged the bits of my brain around till I could 

produce human speech: "Just some crows in the trees."  I jerked 

my head upward since my hands were kind of busy pushing the 

wheels along.

     She craned her head up and around.  "More friends of 

yours?" she asked with a grin that made me feel just as floaty 

as I imagined Heather did.

     "I got 'em ev'rywhere," I told her.

     That got a quiet little cat laugh from El Brujo.  "Your 

helplessness is just so endearing," she said.

     "Hmmmph!"  Serena scrambled partway down my jacket.  "I 

would say it is rather Mr. Augie's willingness to listen!"

     El Brujo's ears flicked.  "Willing?  He has no 

choice but to listen, Miss Serena, despite the undeniable 

fact that his life would be a great deal easier without this odd 

ability of his."

     I ran a hand down her back.  "Easier?  Prob'bly.  But 

nowhere near as interesting."

     Things stayed calm the rest of the way to Chrysalis House, 

a few comments about how lovely the evening was passing between 

Deena and her father, and I managed to get in on some of that 

without stumbling over my tongue too much.  It was strange: I'd 

only known the two of them for a few days, but I hadn't felt so 

comfortable talking to other humans in years...

     They headed for the public entrance to the house around 

front, and I followed.  "We'll need to check in at the desk and 

all," Deena's father said, glancing back at me.  "You sure 

you'll be all right with Heather, Gus?"

     "We'll keep her entertained."  I gave him a smile that I 

actually meant.

     He nodded.  "The first session should be about an hour, 

they said.  Shall we meet you back here then?"

     I started to nod back, but froze when Deena gave a little 

sob, dropped to her knees, and wrapped Heather in a hug.  "You 

be good, Heather," she said, her face pressed into the little 

dog's fur.  "It's all about being good."

     The sleeves of her windbreaker rode up along her arms, 

pocked with needle tracks, and I swear I could almost feel the 

warmth of her pressing against my cold, dead legs.  And before I 

knew what I was doing, I was reaching out, touching her 

shoulder, looking into her startled eyes when she snapped her 

head up from Heather.  I swallowed, but anything I might've 

wanted to say got lost in the tangle of moss and dental floss 

that my nervous system was slowly turning into.

     Still, the message--whatever it was--must've gotten through 

because she smiled, sniffed, unwrapped Heather, and stood.  

"We'll see you guys later," she said.  Her father's eyes 

shining, too, they both went up the ramp into the big glass 

doors of the front lobby.

     Heather was leaning so far forward, I don't see how she 

didn't topple off onto the sidewalk.  "Why??" the little dog 

moaned.  "Why does she go into that place if it makes her so 

sad??"

     I touched the fur between her ears.  "Because she's the 

bravest person I've ever met," I told her.

31 then follows in the ol' progression.

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