Chapter Thirty Three

Invested Nostalgia

I had pneumonia, and Morden had vanished. These were the facts.

Mama came over later that evening with a plate of oatmeal cookies. She smiled her strange weary smile and fussed over me as usual. Even Rik’s uneasiness about her seemed to ease, though the cookies probably helped.

“I’m so very sorry for everything,” she said at last, her eyes brimming with emotion, “It seems my boy had been…causing quite a bit of trouble…”

“No, I—” I coughed briefly, “I really think it’s just a big mistake, he’s being led on. None of this if your fault, Mama.”

The woman nodded and tried to smile, but her gaze was downcast. I caught Rik’s eye, and he was giving me one of those looks. One of those ‘it really is Morden’s fault since he made his own choices’ looks. I ignored him and took Mama’s hand in mine.

“I’m not giving up on him,” I said, looking her in the eye, “I’m sure he’ll come home.”

Mama choked back a sob and took me in her arms in a motherly embrace. I let her, and I enjoyed the warmth of her body and the faint smell of her perfume.

She eventually let go and wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” she said as she tried to smile, “I just hope that my boy realizes how lucky he is…”

Rik was nodding vigorously while shoving a cookie in his mouth. I looked over for Simon, but he wasn’t sitting with us anymore. I turned around and spotted him at the window, palms up against the glass and staring outward. Whatever he was looking at, or looking for, it had his complete attention.

“We just need to give him time,” I added, tearing my gaze away from the blonde, “But until he comes home, maybe you should come here for supper? Keep your mind off of it. Besides, it’s better to be all together, right?”

Mama gave me a wide, watery smile.

“Oh, you’re such a bright young man.” She cooed, wiping her eyes with the tips of her fingers, “Of course, yes, I’ll drop by more often. Maybe it’s my sitting at home that’s making me like this, hm? Yes, that’s probably it.”

I opened my mouth, and then closed it again, having nothing to say. What else could I tell her? I could have said that even being together doesn’t ease the hurt of being tossed aside by someone you care about, but I was trying to give her hope, not make her more upset.

We spent the rest of the evening talking about little things, like how cold this winter seemed compared to last year and how the snow plows always seemed to miss our street, so it was a good thing neither of us had cars. Silly, frivolous things, but they seemed to help. When Mama finally turned in for the night, Simon was still at our place in front of the same window, shirtless as usual, and pacing. He hadn’t contributed a single word since he’d come over.

“Isn’t he cold without a shirt on? What the Hell is he doing?” Rik muttered finally, glancing up from the fireplace.

“I have no idea.” I admitted, “Simon? What are you doing over there?”

The demon looked up and around all of the sudden, like he’d been pulled out of a trance.

“Oh, well, it might be nothing.” He said softly, then glanced at the window.

“What might be nothing?” I asked.

“Morden’s smell. It’s near here, a lot of it.” Simon brought a hand up to his lips, as if he meant to bit his finger in contemplation, but changed his mind and let his arm drop to his side, “A recent smell. He’s been snooping around in the shadows. Brother, Brother...”

“He’s here?”

I tried to stand, but Rik grabbed my arm and pulled me back into my seat.

“Not right now,” Simon muttered, “But he’s been around. He might come by again tonight.”

“You couldn’t tell before now?” Rik asked.

The blonde glanced over.

“He’s been very careful. Using some sort of cloaking spell, probably one that Hespet taught him. He was careless the last time he came though, he must’ve forgotten to cast it. Silly, silly, brother...”

I swallowed and stared down at my hands. Did you come by to check on me Morden? Were you worried about me? Were you worried about Mama, who is so lost without you here?

“What is he doing out there, with that crazy ass?” Rik said, and I just nodded, because that was exactly what I wanted to know.

I sat on the couch, contemplating the past week.

That night, after the power came back on and I returned to my room to sleep, I’d heard him at the window. I was lying down facing it, so squinted through my eyelashes and saw him there, watching me. I couldn’t make out his expression, but I knew it was him. He stayed there for half an hour and left again.

I considered going after him, but in my state it would have been suicide. Even if I’d called out to him, I’m sure he would have run away.

In the morning, Rik found a package at the front door. It was a neatly wrapped parcel with curled ribbons that smelled like pauperie. There was a card slipped under the ribbon that read: Get well soon, yours truly, Eugene. Mystified, we opened it to discover a basket filled with small papers covered in strange symbols and about a dozen small round orbs of glass, like marbles.

“Ah, protection wards,” Simon had said when he saw the papers, “You stick them over doorways and it keeps negative energy away. You can carry them with you too.”

When I showed him the glass marbles, he took one with a perplexed expression and crushed it between his fingers.

“They’re hollow inside,” he said, dusting his fingers, “Really delicate. But they’re literally just balls of blown glass. Eugene is weird.”

I held three balls in my hand and stared at them as they clinked together. If they were a gift from Eugene, they must be important somehow. I placed a couple of them in each of my jacket and jean pockets along with some protection ward papers. At this point, being careful could save my life.

Days went by. Christmas came, and Mama and Simon came over to spend it with us. It snowed heavily that night. Morden hadn’t visited me since that night I saw him watching me. Maybe he realized that I was watching back? Conjecture aside, he’d been scarce ever since. I could ignore the pain most of the time, the biting ache in my gut at being tossed aside. What did I have to complain about? I had Mama, a surrogate mother, I had Rik, a caring roommate, I had Simon, a loyal…terrifying…friend…out of all of them, wasn’t Morden the one who brought me the most grief? That being said, why did it have to hurt so much, then?

Rik told me I was looking healthier, but that I’d somehow managed to look worse off without the pneumonia. I knew what he meant. I’d been pretty down, stuck in my own head all the time, drifting through the week. Just when you think you’re over something, that you can cope, it all comes rushing back in. Isn’t that the way it always goes? Some days were better than others.

And so I found myself sitting in the living room couch, debating with myself at the discovery of a note slipped through my window the night before.

We need to have a chat about Morden.

Come without that dog of yours or I won’t show.

200 Kirsten Rd.

The roof at 11 o’ clock.

That’s all it said. No name, nothing. But from the way the note was written, I was sure that is was Hespet. Questions ran rampant through my mind. Was it a trap? Why was he calling me out now, of all times? Do I go? Should I tell anyone about it? I folded the note and stuffed it into my pocket, beside the glass orbs.

Fog drifted over the snowbanks that evening. I'd better bring a scarf.

End of Chapter 33!

First of all, I’d just like to thank all of you that have been following and reviewing this story. I really appreciate all of your feedback.

Since this month is Nanowrimo (National writing month) I’ve decided to use it to finish this story once and for all! This chapter is very short, but the next few will be much better. I’m only posting this as a way to alert readers that I’ve returned from my hiatus and that I’ll be updating much more frequently (knock wood).