Blood Ties_A Junkyard Druid Urban Fantasy Short Story Collection Page 6

  “Oh yeah? What’d you do?”

  Kenny screwed his mouth to the side as he sucked air through his teeth. “I, uh, may have gotten him tasered. By a cop.”

  Derp’s mouth formed an “O” shape. “Wow, dude—that’s awesome!”

  The boys high-fived each other across the table as Kenny flashed a Cheshire grin. “Yeah, it was. You should have seen him dance and twitch. Hysterical!”

  “Tell me you have it on video.” Kenny nodded. “Lemme see!”

  “Later, man. If we keep talking about this crap, we’ll never get anything done.”

  Derp sighed with genuine disappointment, then he nodded. “You’re right. Anyway, I figured Colin would be a long shot, so I have a backup plan. We’re going to need magic to pull this thing off, and I have just the person in mind.”

  “Oh yeah? Where?” Kenny’s head swiveled around as he scanned the cafe for likely candidates.

  “Not here. There.” Derp pointed out the window, across the street and maybe a half-block down.

  “At the trailer park? Seriously? Man, I live in a trailer park, and I can tell you there ain’t no magicians living in projects on wheels.”

  Derp smiled and crossed his arms. “True, but this ain’t no regular trailer park. You remember how Colin let it slip he was going to see some guy at ‘Rocko’s park’?”

  “Yeah, I guess. So what?”

  “So, dummy, Rocko is the leader of the Red Cap Syndicate!”

  Kenny squinted at his friend. “Sounds suspiciously like a load of crap. How’d you find this out?”

  “Meadow told me.” Meadow was their hedge witch contact online. “She knows all kinds of stuff.”

  “How come she never tells me any of this shit?”

  Derp rolled his eyes. “Because you’re a dick, that’s why. If you’d take the time to get to know people, instead of just getting what you want from them and bailing, maybe they’d tell you stuff.”

  “Ooh, look at Derp the player.” Kenny pursed his lips in a sly grin. “So, you’ve been chatting with Meadow. Derp’s got a crush on Meadow, Derp’s got a crush on Meadow,” he sang.

  “Shit, dude, really? At least I don’t look at porn all the time.”

  “It’s research, Derp, purely research.” He leaned back and scratched his head where his poliosis spot was. It was a nervous habit, and although Kenny liked to refer to it as a Mallen streak, it was just a white spot on the back of his head and not a streak at all. “Bet she’s fat.”

  Derp shrugged. “So? You think some skinny chick is going to be able to handle all this? I don’t think so,” he said, imitating Rex Kwon Do as he finished the last sentence.

  Kenny chuckled. “It’s alright, man, I’m not here to judge. Meadow actually sounds kind of hot, when you think about it.”

  “Don’t make fun of me and make it sound like you’re not. You know I don’t like it when you do that.”

  “I’m being serious!”

  Derp sighed. “Let’s just go find this magician.”

  16

  The trailer park was quite a surprise. Located just off Dessau Road, a few blocks from an elementary school and not much farther from neighborhoods comprised of site-built homes, it was clean and well-maintained. The freshly-blacktopped roads were free of trash, the lawns neatly trimmed and green, and the mobile homes themselves in good repair. All in all, it was not what one might expect from a trailer park.

  Kenny’s head swiveled around as they walked down the main drag in the park, and he let out a low whistle. “Man, I want to move here. It’s like these people actually care about their homes or something. Not like my neighborhood.”

  “Maybe your mom can meet a nice dwarf and move you guys over here,” Derp teased. They were approaching the back side of the trailer park and had yet to see anyone who looked like a magician. In fact, they hadn’t seen anyone at all thus far.

  Kenny hunched his shoulders, glancing around nervously. “Sshh! Cool it, man—I think we’re being watched.”

  Truth be told, Derp did get the distinct impression that someone or something was tracking their progress through the trailer park. Occasionally, he’d see movement out of the corner of his eye, but every time he turned to look nothing was there. Although they were traversing the neighborhood at lunchtime on a bright and sunny fall day, there was a certain chill and gloom in the air that gave him the creeps.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t be here, Kenny.”

  “Ya think? Well, it’s too late for that, dipwad. Look.” Kenny nodded ahead and behind them. About a dozen young teens had seemingly appeared from nowhere, blocking the road in both directions.

  The youths were a motley bunch, male and female both—all wearing the sort of cheap, serviceable clothes that poor kids always seemed to wear with style. Plain white t-shirts and wife beaters, plaid Dickies short-sleeves buttoned at the collar only, blue work pants, faded and torn jeans, oversized football jerseys, bandanas, Converse All-Stars, and so on. They came in all sizes—some short and squat, others lean and wiry, and still others tall and willowy. One boy towered over the rest and was built like a truck. Derp thought he might be the leader, but he couldn’t be sure.

  Two things they all shared were their slightly alien features and the scowls on their faces.

  “They don’t look too friendly, Kenny.”

  “Just let me do the talking, and watch my back,” his friend whispered.

  “You lost?” a tall, model-thin girl with flaxen hair asked. She had the bluest eyes Derp had ever seen, and the fairest complexion as well. High cheek bones and a severe mouth confused the overall effect of her looks, and Derp couldn’t decide if she was beautiful or merely interesting-looking.

  Kenny shook his head. “Naw. Looking for someone.”

  The girl cocked her hip and crossed her arms. “Looking in the wrong place, then. This is a private neighborhood. Didn’t you see the sign on the way in?”

  Actually, Derp and Kenny had seen the sign. They’d also felt the “go away, look away” spell that had been cast on the front entrance, but they’d been able to resist the compulsion. The pair had recently taken to wearing their underwear inside-out, which served as an effective, if weak, protection against certain fae charms.

  “Must’a missed it,” Kenny replied. “Look, we just need to talk to this guy. We’re not here to cause trouble or anything.”

  “Found it anyway,” the big guy muttered, earning him a harsh look from the girl.

  She stared at the boy a moment longer, waiting until he was sufficiently chastised before turning her cornflower blue eyes back on Kenny. “What’s his name?”

  Kenny looked at Derp. “Click,” Derp said. “His name is Click.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Don’t know anybody by that name. Leave while you still can, outsiders.”

  Derp noticed her doing something with her hands and realized a few of the kids were chanting under their breath. Suddenly, he found himself wanting very badly to leave the mobile home park. Very, very badly.

  Kenny turned to his friend. “C’mon, man—we gotta leave, now.”

  Derp nodded as he spun on his heel to comply, his feet marching themselves toward the exit. Yet he was fully aware that it wasn’t him who had decided to leave, but rather the suggestion planted within his mind by the girl and her friends. Even so, he was powerless to stop himself from walking away.

  Do something, idiot!

  Derp craned his neck around, making eye contact with the ringleader over his shoulder. “Wait! We’re friends of Colin! We know Colin!”

  Derp’s feet continued their steady, relentless march toward the front gate of the park, but even as they did a small voice piped up from the back of the crowd of teens. “Colin McCool? The druid?”

  The girl in charge looked over her shoulder with a frown. “Shush, Sal! We don’t know these kids.”

  “But they’re friends of Colin’s, and if that’s the case, that makes them alright.”

  A diminutive child ste
pped out from behind the crowd. He had ruddy cheeks and dark, curly locks that fell all around his face. The boy waved a hand at the rapidly fleeing pair. Immediately, it was like fog had been lifted from Derp’s mind, and his feet and body were suddenly under his complete control again. Kenny was shaking his head like he’d been struck, but he appeared to be alright.

  “I thought the underwear trick was supposed to prevent that from happening,” Kenny whispered.

  The little boy spoke up behind them. “There were too many of us casting the spell. If it had been just one of us, it might have worked. I’m Lil Sal,” he said with a wave and cherubic smile.

  Derp was the one to speak this time. “This is Kenny. I’m Simon—but everyone calls me Derp.”

  A few of the kids present snickered at that, but Little Sal simply nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Kenny and Derp. So, you boys know Colin? He’s my very bestest friend, you know.”

  “I didn’t know that, Sal,” Derp replied. “But I’m glad to hear it. Colin saved us from some goblins last year, and since then we’ve kept in touch.”

  Sal’s eyes got wide. “He did?” Sal covered the side of his mouth conspiratorially, whispering the rest of his response. “He saved me too, and a bunch of human kids—but I’m not supposed to talk about that.”

  By this point, Derp was absolutely charmed by Sal’s forthright and innocent demeanor, as well as his almost infectious cuteness. He smiled as he slowly approached the child, earning harsh looks from the other fae teens. Ignoring their reactions, Derp knelt in front of Sal so he could get eye-level with the boy.

  “Well then, I guess we got something in common—don’t we, Sal?”

  Sal nodded gravely, then grinned and grabbed Derp’s hand. “C’mon, I can take you to Click. He’s a friend, too.”

  17

  Sal led them down the street a short distance to a small, dilapidated playground at the very end of the mobile home park. It looked like something out of the seventies, with a swing-set made from thick lengths of iron plumbing pipe, a merry-go-round that Derp was certain would sever limbs should one be caught under it, and a few of those wobbly animal thingies that always reminded him of the kiddie rides outside small-town grocery stores.

  But what the playground didn’t have was a magician.

  “I don’t see anyone,” Derp said.

  Sal looked up at Derp, still clinging to his hand. Derp thought that by now it would have gotten weird, but instead he just kind of felt warm inside. Safe. Fae magic. What is this kid, anyway?

  “He’s here. Or, at least, he was here. Or he will be here. Click always tends to show up on time, or close to it,” Sal said.

  “You needed something, little man?”

  A lilting voice spoke from somewhere to Derp’s right. Derp’s eyes had just swept the playground a moment before, and he could have sworn no one had been there. He swung his head around, and there stood a youth who could have been fifteen, or seventeen, or twenty-three—it was hard to tell.

  He had that ageless way about him that Derp had been told all higher fae possessed. The believers online talked about it endlessly, as it was one of the reasons people sought out the fae. Some people, especially those with chronic or terminal illnesses, thought the fae could heal them or grant them eternal life. Derp and Kenny knew this wasn’t so, because they’d asked Colin about it. After finding out the truth, they’d agreed they wouldn’t burst anyone’s bubble—people needed hope, after all.

  “And what have ye brought me now, Little Sallie? Two curious kittens, out to steal a sip o’ cream from the milkmaid’s bucket?” The youth’s accent was weird and unfamiliar to Derp. He sounded sort of like one of those cartoon leprechauns, but the way he formed his words was altogether different as well. Derp also noticed that while he looked young, his eyes had something… ancient about them. This was no ordinary teenager, that was for sure.

  “Not milk, silly—the boys are looking for magic,” Sal said matter-of-factly. “Can you help them, Click?”

  Click chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “I know what they’re about, Sallie. Aye, that I do.” Click looked at Kenny and Derp, taking them in with a sweep of his eyes. “Does the druid know yer here?”

  Kenny tsked. “As if we needed his permission. We don’t work for him.”

  Click chuckled wholeheartedly, as if that were the most amusing joke in the universe. “Ah, but ye do admire the cocky little twat, don’tcha now, boys? And if ye had yer way, ye’d be workin’ fer him, just as sure as I’m standing here before ye.”

  Derp raised a hand in the air, waiting until Click nodded before he spoke. “You are standing before us, right?”

  Click clapped his hands together, as if he were applauding a star pupil. “Belief—belief and an open mind! Such as these are the gifts of youth, my lad. If only the druid possessed those raw attributes, instead of that jaded brain of his—oh, what I could do with that lad then. Sadly, instead I’ll have ta’ teach him the hard way. A damnable shame.” Click hung his head ruefully.

  Kenny cleared his throat as he nudged Derp with his elbow. Derp glared at his friend, but he too was becoming anxious. All the teens were still standing around, glaring at the two boys and waiting to see if they’d need to intervene. It was unnerving, to say the least.

  Click merely stared at the youths while affecting a pleasant look on his face. “Ye two boys had somethin’ ta’ ask me then?”

  Derp froze a little, now that he was on the spot. “Um, Mr. Click—that is to say, Master Click, if that’s what you prefer—”

  Click interrupted him, nodding enthusiastically. “I like where this is going, lad—continue, continue.”

  “Well, the thing is, we’re in need of a magician,” Derp said.

  “And ye were hopin’ I’d be the one ta’ help ye out.”

  Derp and Kenny both nodded at once.

  “Fer what?” Click replied, his left eyebrow nearly touching his hairline. “There’s plenty o’ things a magician can be needed fer. Such as, thaumaturgy, necromancy, divination, cursing, healing, summoning, dispelling… why, the list goes on and on. Be specific, if ye want a yes or no answer.”

  Derp steeled his courage, deciding he’d better go for broke. “Well, Mr. Click—”

  Click interrupted, raising his index finger in the air. “I liked the ‘master’ thing better—”

  “Ahem, Master Click, what we need is a way to make music really, really loud.”

  Click frowned, thrusting his lower lip out as he tapped it with his finger. “I sense there’s a wily and convoluted scheme at work here. Tell me more.”

  Kenny chimed in, answering in rapid-fire speech. “Well, there’s these goblins—”

  “And they worship this evil clown god,” Derp added.

  “Who is pissed at them, because Colin rescued us from them instead of letting them sacrifice us to the clown god—”

  “And now they want our help to get back on the clown god’s good side—”

  “Because if they don’t, they might get killed off by kobold ninja assassins—”

  “So, we’re gonna have a battle of the bands and invite the kobolds, trolls, red caps, pixies, and anyone else who wants to compete, to play and see who rocks the house. But we need to make sure the goblins have the loudest music of all, because obviously we want them to win.” Derp wheezed a bit as he got out that last part, so he pulled his inhaler from his pocket and took a puff.

  Click had been listening intently to the boys the entire time, and he continued to tap his lip for several seconds before speaking. “Let me get this straight. Ye boys got abducted by goblins, who intended to sacrifice ye both to their evil clown god. The druid stepped in and saved ye, and instead o’ wantin’ ta’ wipe these goblins from the face o’ the earth, ye’ve decided ta’ help them reconcile with their evil clown god so they kin survive a war with a rival kobold clan, and then wreak who knows what havoc on the local humans, and perhaps become a thorn in Queen Maeve’s side as well. Izzat aboot rig
ht, lads?”

  Kenny and Derp looked at each other. “Yup!” they agreed in unison.

  Click’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at them for several long, awkward seconds. Finally, he spread his arms in a magnanimous gesture as his face split in a huge grin. “Well, why didn’t ya say so in the first place? O’ course I’ll help!”

  18

  The night of the contest, Derp was a nervous wreck. On the bus ride to the park where they were supposed to meet Skinny J, he threw up three times. Thankfully, his mom made him carry a barf bag in his backpack since he’d always had a weak stomach.

  “Oh, why did I agree to do this?” he moaned, hanging his head in his hands.

  Kenny smirked. “You didn’t ‘agree’ to do anything. This was all your idea, remember?”

  Derp dry-heaved a little before looking up at his best friend. “Don’t remind me. Every time I think about it, my stomach flip-flops a little.”

  The other boy stood up halfway, taking a look around. “Too late to bail out now—we’re here.” He slapped his friend on the back with a smile. Kenny had at first been reluctant, but as they’d planned the event out he’d become almost enthusiastic about the entire debacle. “Look, there’s Skinny J.”

  True to his word, the Juggalo goblin was standing just outside a streetlamp’s pool of light, next to the bus stop in front of Walnut Creek Metro Park. He was dressed much as he had been when Derp had first met him, with the addition of several cheap-looking gold chains and bracelets—including a large medallion of a man with dreads running and holding an axe.

  Kenny hopped off the bus first, but Derp paused at the top of the steps as another wave of nausea hit.

  “You boys sure this is your stop?” the elderly bus driver asked in his Texas drawl. He was a wiry, older gentleman with long white hair pulled in a ponytail, and a mustache and beard that would have put Gandalf to shame. “Once you step off this bus, there’s no getting back on. Last chance.”