The Wounded World, a story of Mantra, Chapter 20

By Aladdin

Edited by Christopher Leeson

THE WOUNDED WORLD:

A Story of Mantra

Originally written 2006

Posted April 21, 2020

CHAPTER 20

SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES

“In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between, there are doors.”
                                                                William Blake


"If you're going to get another Coke, Mommy, can I have one, too?" Evie asked hopefully.

I was finally being asked a question that didn’t rip my spirit to shreds and shock my mind into stupefaction. “I don’t know, Evie. You drank the first one so quickly. If you keep doing that, you could get a tummy ache.”

“No I won’t!” she said emphatically.

“All right, but only because this is a time for celebrating.”

"Celebrate what, Mom? asked Gus. "Are you talking dopey because of PMS?"

I ignored his question and replied, "Gus...you're so handsome. How do you stay so handsome?"

"Uh?" 

Don’t lose it, Lukasz. Act like nothing’s happened.

Easier said than done.

I needed to concentrate, had to get a grip on myself. I had been emotionally battered, but I didn’t dare show it. 

"How long have we been at this table?" I asked Evie.

"'Not too long."

I pondered the situation for a moment.  Was I really in my own world? I needed to question the kids.

"Evie, Gus," I said, "do you two know who Contrary is?"

Gus made a face, but Evie answered politely. "Yes, Mommy. She's the UltraForce lady that all the fourth graders like so much. We were talking about her before. Is that something you forgot?"

I actually did seem to be home.

Then a chill coursed through me.
 
Could I stay home?

Had some sort of time-shifting power snatched me from this very mall less than a half hour earlier? Could it sweep me away again?

Then another grim thought grabbed at me.

Tomorrow would be the Ides of September. What if my experiences in that other world had been a premonition of what was soon going to happen in this one?

"Gus, are you and your Dad still going to the Sharks' game tomorrow?" I asked tensely.

"Yeah! It's going to be great!"
 
I didn't like it. I didn't like it. I didn't like it.

I needed to change the march of events. "Say, Gus, what's the use of going to the first high-school football game of the fall? The teams won't be warmed up yet. They never play at their best until October-November. Those kids still have a ton of summer fat to work off. Why don't we instead ask your dad to take you to see the Sharks next month or so? That will leave all of us free for a really fun trip to Disneyland. I’d like to go tomorrow, right after school."

"Disneyland?" chirped Evie. "Yay! Can Daddy come with us?"

Gus frowned. "I'ld be nice, but let's do it Saturday morning instead. That would give us more time to visit all the best rides before closing time. I really want to go somewhere with Dad. It’s been months since we did anything important together."
 
He was desperate to have a closer relationship with his father! But if I had truly glimpsed a future, letting events take their course was out of the question. What if there really was some sort of unknown energy sweeping in from outer space in this dimension, too? I didn't want the Blakes to be anywhere near Leadwell Street at seven o’clock on Friday. I also didn't want Gus to become infuriated by his dad's fecklessness and then go ballistic at the very moment when wild magic was bestowing godlike powers on him.

"Gus, I called your father while you were at school today, to talk about our usual business." This was a fib, of course, but sometimes one needs to fib to prevent disaster. "He mentioned that he was still hoping to take you to the game, but there's a problem."

"What?" asked Gus with startled eyes, as if I'd just given him a hotfoot.

"An important client has been making things difficult for your dad. They'd been planning to visit a property up for sale on Saturday morning. But suddenly the fellow says he has to fly back to Chicago at 6:00 a.m. on Saturday. For that reason, he wants to see the the industrial lot he's interested in late tomorrow afternoon. It's a very important deal and a lot depends on your father closing it. Unfortunately, things almost always take longer than a person expects and he might get tied up for hours. That could make him too late to attend the Sharks game."

"No!" Gus declared. "He's not going to cop out again!"

I took his arm and squeezed it. "It might not happen, precious. Your Father said that things could still work out, but he's just not sure. He wants me to warn you ahead of time. It would break his heart if you got mad at him for something he couldn't help."

Gus set his jaw resentfully. "There's probably no client at all," he muttered. "I bet he met some slut that he wants to go out with."

Careful, Lukasz. Don't rile the boy by scolding him for talking rough.

"Gus, it's not nice to call a stranger a bad name. Anyway, I'm sure that there's no lady involved. Things just happen. Most parents want to spend more time with their kids. I certainly don't go to the office because I want to, but because I have to earn an income for our family. If I were living just to have fun, I’d prefer to be with you and your sister all the time."

The boy was glowering down at his ketchup-smeared paper plate, his face a portrait of disgruntlement.

"Gus, you can't believe that your dad would fib about anything so important. He's not that sort of a man." I'd leave it at that; overselling August Sr.'s virtues to a boy who had been hurt by his flightiness several times already might be enough to set him off.

"If you think Dad's so great, why did you divorce him?" the boy suddenly challenged.

Always that question. In truth, the divorce had been Eden’s idea and it had happened before I’d ever come on the scene. 

"Love is something hard to understand,” I replied. “It’s all about feelings, Gus. I don't know why, but all too often married people stop loving each other."

"Dad didn't stop loving you!" Gus declared. "You're the one who wanted him to go away."

"That's true. But a marriage isn't good if it doesn't make both people in it happy. There were some grownup-type problems in our marriage. We wanted to fix them, but nothing we tried worked. I’m sorry that the way things worked out left us all with hurt feelings."

"Was the divorce about sex?" Gus asked.

"We'll talk about sex when you're older, darling," I punted. "But I do want you to know that even when a mom and a dad go their separate ways, they almost never stop loving their kids. We both still treasure you as much as we ever did."

"Then why doesn't he come see us every other Sunday like he's supposed to? Did you tell him he shouldn't? Jeff at school said that his mother ordered his dad to keep away -- or else she'd tell lies to the judge and have him put in jail."

"I'd never do that, Gus," I assured him. "I want you and Evie to spend lots of time with your dad. He loves you both hugely and I know you love him, too. When he and I split up, we both intended to go on being your mom and dad in every way."

"That’s what grownups always say," groused the younger Gus. Fortunately, he hadn’t gone into a tirade so far. I glanced over at his sister to see how she was taking in our discussion. The tyke was listening with a serious expression. I was sorry for her. Girls need to have a father at home just as much as boys do.
 
Gus had become sullenly silent and I knew that I had to lighten his mood. But what could I do to cheer him up? Well, when in doubt, bribe.

"You know what, Gus? Your dad told me that if things don't work out tomorrow, he wants to pay for show tickets for me, you, and Evie. I'll get off work a couple hours early and meet you and Grandma over at the Van Nuys multiplex. I think Grandma will like to be able to go home early. That would give her more time to get ready for her date. Gus, what's the best film that’s playing tomorrow? You can pick the one that you most want to see. In fact, we'll have time to take in two movies. Your Dad made it very clear that he'd want to make it a really big night for you. Like, there'd be no limit to the candy, soft drinks, and popcorn that you and Evie can order."

The flutter of his lids told me that Gus was weakening, but he still strove to look pouty. I gave him a coaxing smile and pressed his hand. "Well, think about it -- just in case. And remember, there's only one chance in ten that the ball game won't come off. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it at all.”

Fat chance of that! I was going to have to get in touch with Gus Sr. very soon and find out if he intended to do repeat the mistake that his counterpart made in that other world.

The children continued to dine in silence. That gave me time to think. It was a no-brainer that I had to keep both of them away from Canoga Park between seven and eight o'clock, no matter what.  In fact, even if Gus Sr were to vow that he was coming on Friday night, I thought that I should get home early and take Gus and Evie to a restaurant near the ball field. If he wanted to, their father could pick up Gus there.

But wait a minute! Little Gus wasn't the only one in peril if Friday night went south. I  had to keep Heather's group from turning into Coven. And I couldn’t forget about Lauren’s problem. If she got empowered while still an excitement-loving teenager, she might get herself killed while fighting some ultra-villain -- maybe as early as tomorrow night. Should Coven or Necromantra come at her, it would take only one mistake to end her life. And if she should get by them, there would be an even more dangerous encounter with NM-E on Sunday.

The very thought that Necromantra might be lurking in a warehouse nearby made me wince. Would I have to kill her again? I didn’t want to, but in her demented state I probably wouldn’t have any choice.  Briefly, I considered luring her out into the open and getting her captured by Aladdin. They had the tech and the training to take down almost any ambushed ultra. While I hadn’t liked the idea of Blythe Ashwin being tortured by a gang of crooked Deep Staters, Necromantra was much more cruel and destructive than Ashwin. Her just desserts were off the chart.

But, alas, that gambit wouldn’t work! In torture, Thanasi could – and certainly would – rat me out as Mantra and then Aladdin would come after me, too! Was destiny determined to force my one-time best friend and me into another death duel?

What a multiplicity of quandaries! How could I juggle so many threats and still go out in public with Gus and Evie? On top of it all, was there anything that anyone could do to save New York City? 

Of course, there was still the possibility, even the probability, that none of these dangers might prove out. But for safety's sake I had to act like they might.

What I really needed was a drink. "Evie," I murmured, "I'm going to refill my cup. Do you still want more pop? "

"Yeah! Only, can I have Sprite this time?"

"You sure can, Dumpling!"

#

That night, after the kids were in bed, I lingered in the living room, still haunted by my memories of that other world. I found myself pacing the carpet, trying to steel myself enough to make a call to Gus Blake. Regardless of how the conversation went, I wouldn't be getting much sleep. I didn’t think that I would be totally myself until Friday the Fifteenth had come and gone peacefully.

As I mulled things over, I noticed that someone else was in the room. Mr. Paws lay on the easy chair, having fallen forward onto his nose. Usually, Evie went to bed with the stuffed pet fondly tucked in beside her. Tonight, unfortunately, she had needed to retire early, after taking a spoonful of bicarbonate to settle her stomach. I smiled sadly at the little fellow, remembering the wrenching events that the other Mr. Paws had shared with his family. On a whim, I transferred the teddy bear to the couch in front of our smart TV. Evie would find her friend sitting there in the morning and probably make up an imaginative story about how teddy bears are able to watch a secret bear streaming service that only plays after midnight.

Letting myself drop into the vacated easy chair, I again asked myself the crucial question: Had any part of the last five days been real? Try as I might, I couldn't lose the feeling that the world around me lay under an imminent threat.  

It also occurred to me that I should get in touch with Strike -- Warstrike, that is. With his psychic talents, he might be able to look ahead and see whether something wicked was coming our way.

Besides the Night of Terror, that other world had held many horrors. Like, could there actually be some sort of danger hidden in Mrs. Dimsdale's garden? As soon as possible, I would have to ask the Dimsdales whether they had noticed anything odd happening on their property. I knew that time and space portals were real. In fact, I knew of one that led to the Godwheel. Could there be something similar impinging upon our own neighborhood? The sensible thing would be to warn the kids to keep away from that garden, but the quickest way to make children curious about something was to tell them to stay away from it. If I mentioned fairies, nothing would keep Evie from going out to look for them. And Gus would tag along, too, just to prove to his sister that fairies didn't exist. I started thinking that I should don my Blackbird outfit and explore that garden this very night, checking it out for anomalies.

And, of course, I dared not delay for very long in contacting Penny. Had the Pinnacle of this world emotionally crashed like the other one had? Was she contemplating suicide? If so, I would I have to go to L.A. and buck her up before something tragic happened.

Suddenly the front doorbell rang.

I stood up to answer it, but when I reached the threshold, my hand refused to touch the knob. It was as if some inner voice was warning me that if I opened this particular door at this particular moment, something very, very significant was going to happen to me.

And whenever a significant event blindsides me, it’s usually an excuse for destiny to run me through the mill several times over.

When the bell chimed for a second time, I told myself that I was just being silly. My enemies weren't the type to come ringing doorbells. Nonetheless, I wrapped myself in a sturdy force field before peering through the door’s small window.
 
An attentive figure stood on the welcome mat, a hopeful smile on his fleshy lips.

I gaped, goggle-eyed. 

It was the Little Man Who Wasn't There. Here was the same stranger who had jabbed me at the Kids’ Club before inexplicably disappearing.

Only he was there.
 
I hate to say it, but it’s at this point that my story really gets crazy. 


The End