Alice adjusted the name tag on her server's uniform. She was
excited to start her new job – waiting tables between auditions
wasn't a burden to her, it was part of the fun, part of the life she
had chosen, the dream she was trying to make real.
“And here's where we sign the task list at the end of each
shift,” Miranda said. “That's the last box to check for today's
training. Now... I suppose you want to hear about the good stuff.”
It was quiet out front, the lull between lunch and dinner. Marko
was prepping for the evening meal in the kitchen. Alice looked
confused.
“All the rumour's about this place?” Miranda continued. “You
mean you haven't heard the stories about Kelly's Diner?”
“Didn't it used to be a Chinese restaurant once?” Alice asked.
“They say it was a hot-spot for Tong violence. The place was
shot up seventeen times. They say.”
Alice shrugged. She didn't like to make assumptions based on
hearsay.
“But that's not the weirdest part,” Miranda said. “A lot of
people in the neighbourhood say that this place is haunted... And
that's why it attracts so much violence.”
Alice looked skeptical. Miranda had been super-nice so far, but
maybe this was part of some lame initiation for new staff...
“And, get this, no one knows exactly when it switched from the
restaurant to the diner, or what happened to the original owners...
But it's been burnt down and rebuilt at least three times since
then.” Miranda could see that Alice wasn't overly impressed with
the history lesson. “I'm not trying to scare you. I'm not even
saying I buy any of this stuff, either. It's actually refreshing to
meet someone who isn't all wide-eyed and gullible.”
“I guess urban legends are kind of interesting,” Alice said.
She had a strange, fleeting sensation, like a dream barely
remembered.
“The only thing that makes me wonder...” Miranda said, “is
the Irregulars. A lot of the rumours involve this group of... I don't
know what, exactly. But they, apparently, help protect the place. Or
try to, I guess.”
Alice was starting to get intrigued. “And who are they?”
“Some people say they're cops, some say they're vigilantes. I've
heard that they're members of a local martial arts club. Or that they belong to some support group. A mental health
thing.”
Alice had been in therapy when she was younger, because of her
dreams. She got nervous when people started talking about mental
health, was worried they would judge.
“There's Dexter, he always carries a baseball bat, a tough guy
but sweet. Callan, who's quiet but has a temper – I've heard he's
some kind of magician. Wraith, very classy, bit cold. Apparently she
travels a lot, so business maybe? Spy maybe? Darius, who's the
youngest, with a skateboard in one hand and a bible in the other. And
then Max... Lots of stories about Max. Schizophrenic, alien,
android.” She smirked. “He's nice, though.”
“You talk about them as if-”
“Well that's just it, Alice. I've met them. I've served them
coffee. Only a few times over the years - 'the Irregulars', right? -
but they're real.”
Alice was listening intently now. “Have they ever...? What do
they talk about? Do you think what people say about them is true?”
Miranda looked thoughtful. “They are always polite, they always
tip well. They usually look pretty tired. I try not to bother them,
even though I'm curious. I figure that whatever they get up to,
whatever keeps them busy out there, when they're here they need to
relax. To be somewhere comfortable, familiar. To be looked after for
a little while. Is that corny?”
Alice smiled. “Not at all.” And felt, in that moment, that if
she never got cast, never even got called for another audition, that
she would be happy working here for the rest of her days.
The door chimed. Marko called form the kitchen, “Customers!”
"Good
morning," he said.
Alice
looked at him. He was blond-haired, thirtyish and looked a little
rough around the edges. She had just finished pouring him a cup of
coffee.
"Hello,"
she replied with a smile. "What can I get for you this morning?"
"First
of all a name would be nice," he stated with a smile of his own.
It was a warm smile, a smile that was shared between good friends
guarding a personal secret.
Alice
looked at him and chuckled. After all she was wearing her name tag on
her shirt.
"No,"
he said. "I was wondering if you knew my name."
Alice
looked at his face and into his eyes. They were like pools of liquid,
of warm emotion. His face seemed familiar but she attributed that to
being a customer. She knew he was here a few times before. "Can't
say that I do."
"Damn,"
he muttered. He took a sip of coffee. "They only reason I asked
is that I've been going about seeing things and little flashes of
recognition would just spark then die out. For some odd reason seeing
your face and seeing something familiar about it sparked something in
me."
Alice
smiled and knew how he felt. Sometimes she just had an urge or
feeling that things happen for a reason. Lately she'd been getting a
lot of them. Like yesterday when she took the subway and she
thought that she had entered the last car on the platform but when she got
on and looked at the back window she saw another car, and in this
other car she saw people. People's faces and clothing that seemed out
of place and style, and there was this one cheerleader who looked
familiar and...
"I
suppose I will have the special this morning," he said.
For
the past three days Alice had been feeling uneasy. She felt like she
was being stalked or watched but she couldn't see anyone at all. She
went about her work at the diner, always keeping an eye around her.
She couldn't shake that feeling, like the hairs on the back of your
neck sensing that someone is watching you.
Kelly's
Diner was busy as the lunchtime crowd were beginning to show up.
There were four of them on duty at this moment and the cook in the
back was rockin' out to the beat, the radio blasting away as he
prepared today's special. Alice began refilling the coffee but the
urn was empty. She had a little trouble opening the coffee bag and
ended up ripping it in half, spilling coffee onto the floor. A couple
of the lads at the counter began to clap.
"You
okay, Alice?" asked Connie. Connie had been working here for the
past year. "You seem out of it today."
"Yeah,"
Alice replied as she picked up the broom and a dust
pan.
"Just tired I guess."
"Me
too," Connie replied. "I couldn't get to sleep last night.
You ever have one of those recurring dreams?"
Alice
paused for a moment. Something that Connie said made her think. She
realized that for the past week now she wasn't having any dreams.
None at all, and that was funny since most everyone can remember little
aspects of their dreams.
Status
Report on Subject A-443-C
Blog
entry of Subject A-443-C.
You
ever wake up in a dream? Have you? I think they call it lucid
dreaming. Where you awake in your mind and all five senses have
kicked in and you can touch, smell, feel, hear and taste everything
in that dreamscape.
It
happened to me the other morning. It's strange and wonderful and
unique because you know you are dreaming and you just go with the
flow.
There's
this waitress I know who works down at Kelly's Diner. She's really nice. Anyway,
my dream begins with me sitting in the diner and drinking coffee and
eating Rhubarb Pie, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side.
I
never liked that pie, but yet here I am in my dream eating it. And I
could taste it as well. And it was sweet and good.
Alice
comes over and refills my cup and then she puts down three creamers
by it. She then taps the third creamer three times and says: "Try
this one it's a kicker."
So
I open it up and it looks like cream and I pour it into my coffee
cup and then whammo it stirs around automatically and I can see it
inside, and it looks like the Milky Way. So I look up to see Alice at
the end and she's chatting with three people at the counter and they
are all look over at me and smile and...
Breathe
Alice's
eyes opened wide, she let out a sharp breath. Hank, keeping a vigil
by her side, snapped to attention.
He
clasped her hands, seeing that they were warm.
"Oh
Max," she said as soft as a butterfly's flutter. Her eyes
weren't staring at the ceiling, but beyond. Hank's anger showed
at the mere mention of his name. "You're... you truly... are a
magnificent bastard..."
Before
Hank could say anything, Alice looked at him and she smiled and she
closed her eyes and breathed out one last time. And in the blink of
an eye she was gone.
The
More Things Change
Three
people were gone. At least, ones they could remember. Carmen, Farah,
and Art.
Johannesberg’s
hair was now long and pony-tailed.
Rajinder’s
brand of cigarettes was different.
Alice
was still dying.
And
the cottage had changed.
It
looked different, the layout was different. The decorations were
different. It wasn’t the cottage that Hank had visited as a boy.
The
cottage had changed. But Alice was still dying.
Hank
shifted on the stool, tucked in amongst the bushes, watching the
laneway through the trees. The rifle rested at his side. He was glad
to be on watch; he couldn’t relax inside anymore.
Susanna
crept up behind him, making enough noise to avoid startling him.
“I
brought coffee,” she said.
“Leave
me alone,” he said.
The
Next Agenda
Donnelly
sat at her bedside. She looked so pale. She almost seemed faded, like
an old photo. He finished his prayer.
The
reverend had been praying a lot, both with others in the renegade
church and by himself. Last night he had even tried praying to Odin.
Standing out in the woods in the dark, remembering the mighty,
terrible figure looming over him, wounded and wise. Donnelly had just
improvised something, and his whispers had sounded like wind in the
trees. He had started by asking for Odin's guidance, and protection,
but eventually he had started talking, thoughts streaming from him,
wishes and hopes. He had described the dream he'd always had of a
beautiful cathedral, its doors open and welcoming. He had begged the
Allfather to lead them to a world where they were safe, where Alice
was better, where she and Max were married and happy, or where Max
had never come to them.
One
of his prayers, to his God, had been answered. Mayganne was
back. And another of his prayers as well; she had some answers.
While
the Father had tended to the dressings on the cuts and bruises on her
face, she had told him about her capture by LEGACY and her rescue by
the mysterious woman, Suki.
"I
think we can trust her, Mother," Donnelly said to the
unconscious woman. "She seems to know a lot about Max... She
wouldn't even come with Mayganne to our sanctuary, so its location
wouldn't be compromised..." He sighed, and took hold of Alice's
hand. It was hot. Better than cold, he figured. "Mayganne says
she needs to find Max. We have his cell number. But I'm going back to
the city; I need to meet her before I give her the number."
He
glanced down at the satchel he had packed. He had gotten
everything ready before coming to see Alice. He knew his
resolve might weaken. Mayganne was already outside in the car. The
handgun was in his pocket.
"I'll
be back, dear girl," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
Here eyelids, for now, were still. "Maybe I'll find out what's
happening." And when he thought of everything that had happened
- fleeing the city, learning about LEGACY, Luger being a traitor,
doing the ritual with Max to kill the hit squad, meeting Odin - tears
formed in his eyes. And suddenly he was thinking about everything,
all the ways the world kept changing, all the faces of everyone
in his church, the fear that they carried with them always, the
sister he no longer had. And he was crying, leaning down, his
face against Alice's shoulder, sobbing. All the words of all
the sermons he had told falling like red snow through his mind,
melting into nothing against the burning ache inside him.
When
he finally left the room, Hank was waiting outside.
"I'm
against this, Father," Hank said as Donnelly passed him.
His voice was tense.
The
reverend rounded on the younger, larger man. "I really
don't give a shit what you think. You just keep everyone here safe
until I get back."
Eyes
wide, Hank was silent as Father Donnelly went downstairs.
Standing
in the Tide
"She
is not getting any better," Father Donnelly said once he had
closed the door to the bedroom. Susanna closed her eyes. Hank
clenched his fist.
"It's
time we do something," Hank said.
Susanna
could feel the storm that was about to break in the hallway of the
cottage. She mumbled something about checking on the children outside
and headed for the stairs.
The
reverend knew this argument was due. They had reviewed the options
already, two days ago, when Alice first got sick. They couldn't risk
going back to the city, or calling help to come here. Any doctor in
the nearest town would only send her to the hospital; she clearly
needed treatment of some kind.
Fevers,
vomiting, hallucinations. Strange bruising would appear and
disappear all over her body.
They
couldn't take her to a hospital, though. Max had been clear about that
when the plan had been made to come here. No contact with the system
in any way. Even Max didn't know their exact location. He said he
would call when it was safe.
Hank
knew all of that, but Donnelly knew they were still going to argue about
it. Because of Max. Donnelly trusted him, Hank didn't. And now
Alice's health, maybe her life, hung in the balance.
He
already knew everything Hank was going to say, most likely yell. He
also knew that Hank used to have problems with anger; he hoped
nothing bad was about to happen. He would let Hank have the argument
though, because even though everything had already been said, even
though nothing would change - the group had decided to wait -
sometimes you still needed to have the fight anyway.
Hank
looked at the reverend, eyes hard and cold.
Johannesberg
called up from downstairs. "Father! Milligan says there's a
vehicle coming up the lane!"
Where
I Lay My Hat
“Hank,
I can’t thank you enough,” Alice said as she dropped her backpack
onto the bed. Dust floated up in the beam of the flashlight. “It’s
really nice, and there’s room enough for everyone.”
Hank
smiled, holding the light steady while Alice unrolled her sleeping
bag and Susanna started placing some of her clothes in the dresser.
It wasn’t the first time that they had relocated in the years they'd
been together. As things changed, so did the places they lived. Some
kept normal homes, most took to living communally in places like The
Rave. Sometimes they moved by choice, sometimes they moved because
their havens disappeared in a shift. New places and hangouts, and new
passwords and signals. And each time there was Alice, waitress,
college student, even an actress once, supervisor at a women’s
shelter, her world and her life warping around her, while she
remained constant, a beacon calling the lost home.
Hank
realized that he was falling in love with her. He cleared his throat,
worried the women could somehow read his thoughts. “I always hoped
we could use this place, eventually,” he said. “ But it’s so
far away from, well, anything really. Except the other cottages on
the lake. Although they’re all abandoned too, since the land deal
happened. They were the last I heard, anyway.”
Alice
smirked. “Unless that’s all changed.”
Hank
smiled back. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Maybe I should take Jo
and check out-“
Alice
interjected. “Hank, it can wait until tomorrow. You’ve been at
the wheel for so long. Get some rest tonight.”
“He’ll
probably be up all night escorting people to the outhouse,” Susanna
joked.
The
rest of the cottage was bustling. Beds getting assigned, supplies
getting unpacked. A fire finally clawing into brightness in the main
room. Seeing everyone come together, work together, here in the place
where he spent his childhood summers… It made Hank’s heart full
of rainbow feelings. Every time they learned that something had changed,
Hank always tried to remember those summers, to make sure they were
still there. He feared losing his past most of all. Now it seemed
that his future, all of their futures, were at risk.
He
frowned as he watched Johannesberg and Milligan check over the
hunting rifles they had brought on the retreat. He knew that Father
Donnelly still had that pistol Max had given him. At the thought of
Max the anger returned. The sense of pride and closeness he was
feeling flared into a red rage as quickly as if he had shifted.
Maybe
he had… maybe that’s why he had so many problems throughout his
life dealing with anger. Something about his identity shifting… He
tried to hold onto the idea, the sense of it…
Johannesberg
called him. “Hey Hank, will you walk us down to the dock?”
Alice
and Susanna came downstairs as Hank led Jo and Milligan, both armed,
out into the cold night.
“Things
feel…” Alice said softly. “It’s like they’re building to
something.”
Susanna
took Alice’s arm in hers. “I know what you mean. Something’s
happening. We’re caught up in something. Maybe this Max is the key
to figuring out what’s going on?”
Alice
thought about Max. She was still fighting the urge to call him. “I
just feel… That it will somehow end badly.”
Susanna
shivered. It was unnerving to hear Mother talk like that. She tried
to change the line of conversation. “Did Hank ever say if this
place had a name?”
Alice
smiled wryly, her tone sarcastic. “Maybe we should call it the
Alamo.”
“How
about Helm’s Deep? They won that one.”
Roadtrip
Alice
looked up at the stars. "I think I should call him."
Donnelly
added another stick to the campfire. They had the grounds to
themselves - not many people were camping this time of year. There
were seven tents in total, some scrounged, some bought hurriedly,
different sizes, and some people were sleeping in their cars. It was
the fourth time Alice had said she was going to call Max, but each
time she hadn't. He had made it clear that he would reach them once
he had finished up. They were only to call him if it was an
emergency. The last six days had felt like one long emergency.
The weight of the handgun was heavy in the reverend's coat pocket. He
had had nightmares about the ritual every night since it had happened.
Susanna
was singing some children to sleep in the large blue tent.
Alice
wasn't very old in terms of the calendar, but she had many different
worlds behind her, passed through like the rings in a tree trunk. She
had brought most of them together. It fell to him and others, like
Susanna and Hank, to keep them together. Sometimes they would lose
some to a shift - maybe they had lost many, but lost their memories
of them too when the world had changed and changed again. Donnelly
knew Alice felt responsible. Maybe even guilty in a way.
He
had spent many nights reassuring her. Reminding her that her gift was
helping people. He wanted to reassure her now, but he knew things
were different this time. That they hadn't shifted, but that the
world had changed. His words didn't mean the same thing anymore. The
church didn't mean the same thing. Now that they had learned about
LEGACY.
It
hurt her to think that somehow she had been serving the goals of evil
men. But she clearly trusted Max's assessment; that's why they were
here, out of the city, on the run. Not everyone did; there were many
who still marked the start of the troubles with Max's arrival. And
they weren't exactly wrong. He had asked Alice why she had decided to
trust Max; her answer had been a strange one. She said that he had written
out a list of names, to see if she knew any of them. The fourth name
on the list had been her mother's nickname when she was younger.
'Angst'.
Donnelly
supposed his own reason wasn't any less strange. He had faith in Max.
Alice
looked down at the fire. "Maybe I should call him."
Prophecy
Hank
took a deep breath. Johannesberg toyed with his eyebrow ring.
Laughter trickled down from the dorms; Susanna had organized some
kind of game for the others to play. She was a great addition to the
group, a teacher. She still worked professionally; the last shift had
changed the location of her school, but the students still knew her.
"I
hate to see it all fall apart," Hank said. He scratched his
beard. Jo kept quiet. He looked a little uncomfortable seeing the big
man get so emotional.
"It's
bullshit," Hank continued. "This one guy shows up and
suddenly people are going missing, then he's got the Father convinced
we're part of some big conspiracy. Bullshit."
"I
don't know..."
Hank
rounded on the young man. He had a flash of grabbing the kid by his
mohawk and ramming his face into the door. It had been a long time
since those outbursts of rage; part of his former life. But since
Luger had disappeared, then the Father, then Mayganne, Hank had
started to feel the surges of violence return. Father Donnelly had
returned in the middle of the night, but spouting nonsense, and Hank
wasn't feeling any better.
"What
do you mean 'you don't know'?"
"How
about we wait and see what Mother says?"
Hank felt his hand
tighten into a fist. "Fine.
I'm going for a walk." He started down the hall. He heard
Susanna's voice calling out instructions for the game. Johannesberg
caught up to him.
"Hank,
listen. Please." The older man took another deep breath. Jo
continued. "K, you're gonna think this is nuts too. But I have
to tell someone. You wonder why I don't seem worried about this Max
guy..."
"Things
have gotten worse since he showed up."
"Well,
stranger anyway. If that's possible. But listen... The thing is... I saw this anime when I was younger, and the
main character... Well, the series was called Aeon Triumph Gun Messiahs-"
The
door opened to Mother's room.
"I've
made a decision," Alice said.
