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

“Are we having a party?” Sarah said.

“Need to keep busy,” Jared said.

“Hello, meringue,” Justice said. “Come sit in my tummy.”

“We’re turning the alcove into a bedroom for me,” Sarah said.

“Cool,” Jared said. “Hummus?”

When Mave came in with Kota, toting an identical screen, she sighed. “Are we starting a bakery?”

They stacked the second screen beside the first. The intricately carved wood had sparkling inlays. One of the sparkling bits blinked at him, and Jared tilted his head. It blinked again.

The timer dinged, and Jared lifted the cake out of the oven and put it on a cooling rack. The middle had a dent where it hadn’t risen evenly, but it was all cooked. He turned the oven off. The day had caught up with him, so he’d do the pie later.

He went to sit beside Sarah on the couch. They were retelling their adventures of retrieving the room dividers from Justice’s storage locker and trying to fit them into Mave’s VW bug. Next they were going to Ikea for a bed, and that would be an even bigger challenge. The spot in the divider blinked at him, like a distant lighthouse.

“Jared?” Sarah said.

They all paused to stare at him.

“Sorry,” he said. “I drifted off. Got up early.”

The silence went on and Jared yawned, pretending he didn’t notice the little light. Then Kota said they could use the truck for the Ikea run, but if they dented anything, Elijah would kill him.

“When do we meet this new man of yours?” Mave said.

“Never,” Kota said. “We’re not in a relationship. It’s just fun.”

“He loaned you his truck, my dude. You drive it every day. It looks new.”

“Next subject.”

“How did you meet?” Mave said. “Who’re his parents? Is he Native?”

“Bye,” Kota said. “Enjoy Ikea.”

Sarah nudged Jared, who was still staring at the blinking screen.

“I need to put icing sugar on the carrot cake,” he said.

“Hey, space cadet,” Kota said. “See you in a few days.” He leaned over Jared and gave him a hug. Mave came and sat beside him.

“Jared?”

“Mave.”

“Maybe you should get some sleep.”

“I’m okay. I like sitting here.”

He could hear Sarah and Justice laughing, the clatter of dishes, and then they were sitting around him with coffees. Mave had her arm twined in his and he couldn’t remember her doing that. Slanted sunlight hit the apartment building across the street and the windows lit fiery red, then orange, dimming to a soft pink. Sarah and Justice put on their coats.

“Justice, my purse is on the nightstand! Get something pretty!”

Then he and Mave were alone and Jared was tired but afraid to sleep. Someone needed to holler if things went sideways and there was no one else to holler. Bark, bark. Mave took his hand.

“TV?”

“Sure.”

He realized he had a throw blanket around his legs that he couldn’t remember anyone putting there. Probably Mave.

“Are you okay?” Mave said.

“Tired. Just tired.”

“You don’t have to do anything, Jared. Can you let us take care of you?”

“I’m afraid of what’s coming,” Jared said.

She hugged him. “Anyone who tries to hurt you will have to get through me.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“I’m a big girl. I’ve kicked my share of asses.”

He smiled because she wanted him to smile. He couldn’t explain, without sounding insane, how he felt time moving now, a dark current beneath a placid surface. His dread was a low hum, a distant sound of thunder, the crack before an avalanche.

“Maybe I should just give up and go lie down,” he said.

She nodded, and said, “I might get some writing done while they’re out.”

She gave him a hug, and they both retreated to their bedrooms.

He sat on his bed, and the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose as he felt someone’s attention. Once, he’d been fishing with Phil in a river and he’d had this same feeling of dread. He stood frozen until the wind shifted and they both smelled something rank. His dad dropped his reel, grabbed him by the waist and booted it for the truck. As they ripped down the logging road, a grizzly came out of the woods, head swaying. Later, they told it as a funny story, but at the time Jared remembered how insanely big it had been, as high as a fence, as wide as a car.

He turned his mind, deliberately, to ordinary things. He thought of socks, and how he needed some new ones. He thought of more things he liked to cook. All the simple, boring parts of anyone’s life. But then he heard a snap from the living room, a sound like mosquitoes hitting a bug zapper, and went to check.

A tiny spot in the intricate carving of the room divider wasn’t just blinking, it was pulsing with light. The familiar high hum was there, but faint—this firefly was solo and they usually travelled in swarms.

“Firefly,” Jared said. “You’re back. And hiding in a room divider. For some reason.”

“Just to be clear, fireflies are beetles with luminescent organs,” the single firefly said. “As we’ve told you many, many times, we are ultradimensional beings.”

“I thought you guys were done with this place.”

“This universe is lawless and cruel, true, but you have Sarah.”

“Sarah’s been working on her magic with Mom,” Jared said. “She’ll be happy to see you. She has quest—”

The firefly popped out of the room divider and flew through the ceiling.

Jared said, “Hey! Where’re you going?”

“Polymorphic-Being-in-Human-Form Jared,” it said, popping back through the ceiling. “We’ve intervened too much in a universe that isn’t ours because of you and the trouble you bring.”

“Sarah won’t like that attitude.”

It snapped in irritation, sizzling arcs of white-blue light instead of its normal warm yellow. Jared didn’t care. He was tired of people watching him, stalking him.

17

CTHULHU, DO DO DO DO DO DO

Now that he was sober again, Mave insisted it was time to deal with David. She sat Jared at the kitchen table and told him she’d reported him missing to the Vancouver Police Department. She’d