Return of the Trickster by Eden Robinson (inspirational books to read .TXT) 📕

head, looking away. He didn’t want to read into that and he wished he could keep his stupid mouth shut.

“We all do things we regret,” she said.

Things felt strained. He wanted something that she couldn’t give, something that had been an illusion. What they had right now was thin as an eggshell. But it was real. She might actually like him, even the Trickster version.

Sophia said, “Are you willing to meet a guide to your new world?”

“What kind of guide?”

“Someone who can help you be less lost.”

“That’s specific.”

“This is an optional field trip,” she said.

A little guidance would be nice. He’d appreciate someone who could tell him what the hell was going on and how he could make sense of everything. Facts were always more helpful than guesses.

“Okay,” Jared said. “I’m in.”

“I’ll pick you up at one tomorrow afternoon.”

6

IN THE REALM OF THE WILD MAN

Kota buzzed up to the apartment the next morning and told Jared to shake a leg. Jared took the elevator down. They went to Jared’s regular group and he was too raw to share, but people came up to him after, welcoming him back, saying they were glad he was safe after his aunt had reported him missing. Jared stuck close to Kota, but let himself be hugged by one of the old-timers.

They walked to their regular coffee shop and stood in line.

“Do you want a breakfast sandwich or something?” Kota said.

“Still full from last night.”

“You’re not eating,” Kota said. “You’re pretending to eat.”

“Dude, stop noticing shit. It’s creepy.”

“I’m glad you fell off the wagon,” Kota said. “It makes me look better.”

“Nice.”

“I know, I know. What a selfish prick. But it’s hard being the family fuck-up, right? Me and you, we’re two bad apples rolling around the bottom of the barrel. Unicorns of fuckery.”

Jared waited to see if Kota had any other gems. “That was the worst pep talk. Ever.”

“Yeah, I’m not sponsor material. Latte?”

“Please.”

Kota ordered himself a double espresso.

They sat outside on the patio so Kota could smoke. The chill in the air meant snow soon.

“Cookie Dude?”

He looked up and a girl came up and gave him a hug. Her fringed, black leather jacket was painted with roses. She wore leggings and a sweater she was using as a dress. She was Native, with a heart-shaped face and large eyes with false eyelashes that made her look like a deer.

“Hey,” Jared said.

“Oh, my God,” she said. “Long time, Jared.”

“Yeah.”

“Hi,” Kota said.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Mallory,” the girl said, holding out her hand.

“Kota.”

“Me and Jared had this thing. I was breaking up with my boyfriend and he’s a really good listener. Thanks, by the way.”

“No worries,” Jared said.

She rummaged through her purse and pulled out a pen, grabbed his hand and wrote her number on it.

“Call me!” she said, blowing him a kiss before she turned and walked away.

Kota quirked an eyebrow. “Did you remember her?”

“Not really,” Jared said.

“What was the Cookie Dude thing about?”

“I used to sell pot cookies.” He frowned. “I think she’s mixing me up with someone else. I think I would have remembered her.”

“Or,” Kota said, “you hooked up when you were partying and she left before you sobered up. A little fun, like Lex.”

Jared frowned. That name rang a bell.

“The weird chick. Blue hair. Horrible, braless nightmare that screamed crazy but you banged anyways?”

“Oh, metal girl, Lex. Right,” Jared said. “I’d remember Mallory. Well, maybe.”

“Are you going to call her?”

“No,” Jared said. “Everything’s too raw.”

“Your ex is couchsurfing next door at Hank’s, by the way.”

“Sarah’s here? In Vancouver? In the building?”

“She came down the second she heard you disappeared and she was going pretty hard to find you. I think she’s carrying a torch for your sorry ass.”

Jared considered his empty cup. “I dunno.”

“Must be nice to live in Jared World,” Kota said. “Where your family cares if you’re safe and you get to pick and choose who you love.”

“I love you, Kota,” Jared said. “I want you safe.”

Kota side-eyed him. “I wasn’t fishing.”

“Weren’t you?”

“You’re lucky I like you,” Kota said. “Or pow! Right in the kisser.”

“Bugs Bunny?”

“Are you done? I’m done. Let’s get you back to Mave before she calls the cops and reports you missing again.”

—

Kota watched Jared from his truck to make sure he got back into the building. Jared hesitated in front of Hank’s door, right next to Mave’s, with his arm raised, ready to knock. Seriously, what could he offer Sarah? What would his friendship get her but trouble and death? Hank would have told her he was back. If she wanted to see him, she would come over.

Jared went and lay down on his bed, exhausted. His guts gurgled, his organs complaining. The room felt empty without his supernatural friends, the painted heads, the dolphin people who lived in the floor, and the ghosts Dent and Shu. He wanted to check his e-mails and messages, but his laptop was missing and his phone had been in the back pocket of the jeans he’d ditched in the alley when he shape-changed into a raven to avoid being burned to death by David, his mom’s preppy psychopath of an ex-boyfriend, who couldn’t get his mom to be scared of him so stalked Jared instead.

Jared made a quick search of his room. When she was still pretending to be a benevolent force in his life, Georgina had sent him a copy of Alcoholics Anonymous: The Story of How Many Thousands of Men and Women Have Recovered from Alcoholism. The Big Book. He’d kept it mostly because he’d forgotten he had it. Tucked inside the book was a blue envelope with his name written in careful cursive. Inside was the paper she’d written on, pale yellow and delicate. Her writing slanted right in neat rows. She’d included ten crisp hundred-dollar bills that he’d used to get Sarah home for her grandfather’s funeral, among other things. He’d unfolded and read the letter after his first trip to the house and collection of trailers she