A Pook Is Born Read online

  Comet lowered her eyes.

  “No. No, I’m being silly. I just…Well, I got worried, and then…Oh, you know a girl gets insecure sometimes.”

  “Let’s go home, make some tea, and I’ll give you more details. And seriously…wait until you see my place. It’s trashed.”

  They climbed into the jazzy custom Vega, still talking. The car was a shimmering aqua blue with a thin, silver flame along the sides; a gift from a VERY grateful client (Rae had helped a certain frontman for a certain British band “fix” a regrettable tattoo, turning the ink into high art). As Rae pulled into the traffic, Comet reached up and grasped a small, furry object hanging from the rearview mirror.

  “Now when did YOU buy fuzzy dice?”

  Rae raised an eyebrow.

  “I…didn’t…? That’s weird. Huh…This night, man. This fucking night….”

  When they got home, Comet tapped the toe of her silver high heel against the hallway’s hardwood floor as Rae fumbled with the door.

  “Girl, why can you never get this thing unlocked?”

  “Girl, why can you never bring your own damn keys?”

  Comet sighed. “Fair enough.”

  Rae swung open the apartment door and flipped on the lights. To anyone else, the place would have looked like something from the set of Austin Powers. Pink shag carpet, overstuffed white couches, disco ball light hanging over the dining table. But to Rae and Comet, it just looked like home.

  Rae crossed the room to a small cage on a leaf table by the window. She crouched down and peered inside.

  “Hey Dave...ready for dinner?”

  The chubby dwarf hamster hobbled from his exercise wheel and licked the tips of Rae's fingers. She smiled. Such an innocent soul. His very existence was somehow calming to her. Dave the Hamster had lived an exceptionally long life. His little, liquid eyes were cloudy with age. He was five years old. At one point, Comet had attempted to make him wear a tiny monocle and cravat, but Dave would have none of such frippery.

  She filled his feeder, then straightened up, feeling her ankles crack.

  “Ugh. I need some chamomile.”

  Comet went to slip into a silk kimono while Rae walked into the kitchen to put on the kettle. She dropped Ember’s purse on the floor next to the fridge and sank into a chair... so tired.

  She scrolled through her messages.

  Evil Mark had texted.

  “Hey, beautiful,” it said… seemingly a harmless message.

  Rae sighed. Her ex always managed to text her when she felt the least able to deal with it. He was a six-foot-five karate instructor, and they had dated for an intense few months until Rae realized that the man regularly referred to himself as a “unicorn.” He also believed in “open relationships,” but only for him.

  Rae was not in the mood. She silenced her phone.

  She was a realist. She knew she wasn’t exactly easy to date. Tall, striking, and charismatic with her blue hair and unusual eyes, Rae did not give off the “broken bird” vibe that so many of the men in town seemed to find attractive. Some men considered her a challenge. Others considered her weird. None of them considered her relationship material.

  But when it came down to it, Rae never felt truly relaxed around any of the men she had dated anyway. She always felt like she was hiding something... though she didn’t know what.

  She took a package of Ramen noodles off the top of an inordinately large stack in the middle of the table, and, opening the plastic, broke off a piece from the block. Unscrewing the top on the peanut butter jar sitting next to the Ramen stack, she dipped the dry noodle chunk into the goo and popped it into her mouth.

  Her eyes closed. Delicious.

  “Girl, no matter how many times I see you do that, I always think it’s nasty.”

  Rae smiled, “You want some?”

  Comet swept into the kitchen and took the shrieking kettle off the burner. She poured water into two mugs and tossed ginseng tea bags into both.

  “Does this body look like it eats carbs?” Comet shot back.

  Comet had taken off her makeup and wig and was looking very relaxed in her lavender kimono. Rae always was a fan of ‘Comet Unplugged’.

  Landing at the table, and crossing her impossibly long legs, The Duchess waxed maternal.

  “Now, honey, if all this about an attack is true, you need to protect yourself in the future. We need to get you a piece.”

  Rae started.

  “A piece of what??”

  Comet’s eyebrows arched.

  “A peace of mind, baby. That comes with a piece of Glock. A gat, a sidearm, a .22, a strap. A gun.”

  She reached beneath the folds of her gown, and, from the depths of her lace garter, produced a tiny handgun. It had a pink pearl handle and looked like a toy. But Rae knew her well enough to know- she wasn’t playing.

  “Holy shit, Comet, do you sleep with that?”

  Comet shrugged, pulling the lavender silk over the tiny pistol.

  “Tonight, I am taking precautions.”

  Rae thought about it, then shook her head.

  “I’d probably shoot myself. I prefer defensive maneuvering.”

  “And how did that work for you tonight?” Comet gently touched the bruise on Rae's face.

  “Baby, I know I got crazy back there, but seriously. If anything happened to you…? The Duchess would not be able to reign.”

  Rae took her hand and held it to her cheek.

  “I’ll be ok. And I love that you look after me. Can we say I’ll think about it?”

  Comet stood up and kissed Rae's forehead.

  “We can. Now get yourself to bed. I want to see this San Andreas mess bright and early.”

  Rae took a last sip of tea, then shuffled off. Comet watched her go, worry in her eyes, but then flipped off the lights and went to her bedroom.

  In the darkened apartment, there seemed to be calm at last.

  But in the kitchen…something was stirring…..

  Rae wasn’t aware of it until she heard the peanut butter jar hit the ground.

  She wasn’t sure if she was asleep; her mind flashed with images of what looked like the buzzing brightness of street lights, or candles or stars… as they moved away from her so quickly, she spun. Then she was falling.

  It was that feeling of falling that awoke her…

  ...Then the breaking glass. Being an expert on peanut butter, Rae identified the sound immediately.

  “Comet, are you eating my crunchy organic PB?”

  Crash.

  Rae sat up quickly.

  Then, it sounded like the jar was scooting itself along the cheap laminate flooring of the kitchen.

  “Comet?” Rae whispered, seeing visions of home invaders, Comet tied to a chair, or worse.

  Even scarier, Rae pictured any form of monster or alien making a sandwich in the kitchen.

  Velociraptors?

  Rae shook her head. Nighttime brain was not good for the blood pressure.

  Silent as a blue-haired ghost, Rae picked up a fairy wand she kept under her bed.

  She had procured the thing at a Renaissance Faire when she was 10. Gold and pink ribbons streamed from the handle and a “crystal” ball made of skull-cracking pyrex crowned the top. The stick didn’t look deadly, but it was light and could dent the side of a garbage truck.

  Quieting her breathing, Rae peaked around her door. Comet’s door was closed, silent, still. Rae scanned the kitchen. A few oranges rolled past the entryway.

  She gulped. Whenever there is a bump in the night, one hopes that it’s nothing. It’s not a fun thing to have one’s fears confirmed.

  Rae considered Comet’s wisdom regarding a shiny new Glock.

  Very quietly, Rae side-stepped to give herself a better view. The cupboards were open…all of them.

  There was another smash as a jar of marshmallow fluff was flung across the kitchen. It hit some pots and pans, making a racket that could wake up half the block.

  “Who’s here?�
�� Rae called out, sounding braver than she felt.

  There was a pause.

  Steeling herself, Rae jumped into the kitchen.

  There was no one there.

  “Where are you?” Rae demanded. She held her fairy want out in front of her like a Viking sword.

  Silence.

  Then, Rae heard a growl.

  It came from behind the wine glasses.

  Rae spun to face the source of the sound.

  “Poooooooookaaaaaaaa!”

  Rae was blown off of her feet by a howling wind, her fairy wand twirling across the floor and hitting the broken peanut butter jar.

  Wine glasses crashed as the wind compacted to the size of an ill-tempered basketball. The mini storm darted around the room, breaking everything in its path.

  Rae shouted as she rolled out of the way.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Comet’s familiar voice cut through the din.

  “Comet, get down!” Rae reached out her long arm and yanked her friend to the ground. For once, Comet did not move gracefully. She hit the deck in a tangle of kimono, long limbs, and blond hair.

  The storm let out another screech as it punched itself out a window, leaving the kitchen in silence.

  Breathlessly, Comet and Rae pulled each other to their feet. Rae heard dogs barking all the way down the block.

  “What was that?” Comet breathed.

  “I’m pretty sure it was the same thing that destroyed my place: Ember.”

  “Ember? That sounds like a bad drag name,” assessed Comet.

  “She’s a badass, and now she’s destroying my damn house, too.”

  “OUR damn house,” Comet corrected.

  Rae and Comet both froze when they heard what sounded like a thousand cicadas screaming in a horror movie.

  The sound was coming closer.

  2.

  There comes a moment when questions are irrelevant; only preparation matters. Neither Rae nor Comet knew the details of what or who was going to burst back through that window, but they knew that they needed to be ready.

  Without a word, Comet grabbed a butcher knife and a cookie sheet, which she held like a shield in front of her. Had it been less dire circumstances, the image of The Drag Knight in Satin Armor would have caused Rae to laugh her head off, but there was no time for that. Rae flung their chopping block over the hole in the window and wedged a broom handle against it. But she wasn’t fast enough.

  With the force of a battering ram, a furious basketball sent the chopping block flying. It crashed against the refrigerator, and the ball hovered menacingly in the doorway, leaving the women no escape. Comet shrieked, clenched her eyes shut, and began waving the knife frantically in front of her. “Hmmm….lalalalala…!”

  Comet sang when she was nervous; it was a habit she’d developed as an unusual little boy, and now, trapped in the kitchen and scared as hell, she resorted to her old coping mechanism.

  Rae recognized it, and shook Comet by the shoulders.

  “No! I need your help here!! Come on, baby…You are strong! You are fierce!!!”

  Comet began to rock back and forth and shake her head. “Hmmmmm!!!”

  Rae thought quickly. Grabbing the fairy wand, she began to sing into it like a microphone and bounce up and down.

  “I was justified when I was five, raising cane, I spit in your eye…”

  Comet’s neck began to swivel. She took up the next line:

  “Times are changing, now the poor get fat, but the fever's gonna catch you when the bitch gets back.”

  Momentarily forgetting their peril, they burst into harmony for the chorus:

  “I'm a bitch, I'm a bitch

  Oh the bitch is back

  Stone cold sober as a matter of fact

  I can bitch, I can bitch

  'Cause I'm better than you

  It's the way that I move

  The things that I do…”

  “OOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

  Both their heads snapped around to see the ‘basketball’ sitting on the table, inches away from them, enraptured. This was not Ember. This was no ‘person’ at all.

  Docile, and strangely enchanted, this furry pink creature, once not swirling like a tiny tornado, was possibly the cutest thing ever seen. Humongous, soulful eyes filled the fuzzy face, making the thing look like an anime character.

  Rae and Comet looked at each other, then looked at the creature.

  Then they looked at each other.

  Then they looked at the creature.

  The silence could only have lasted about 30 seconds, when suddenly the creature seemed to grow disturbed again, and shrieked:

  “POOOKA!”

  Comet’s eyes grew wide.

  “Did he just say... ‘Pooka?’”

  Rae crept closer. The critter stiffened, and two tiny wings shot out from its sides like an angry Batman.

  “POOOOOKKKKAAAA!”

  Comet chuckled.

  “Oh no, this thing is too much. Look at your fluffy ass trying to get all bad and whatnot.” She sashayed over to the table and picked up the incredulous ball. She ruffled its pink fur and kissed the top of it. “Mr. Pook, you need a snack, because I know hangry when I see it.”

  Rae stared at the bizarre scene happening in her kitchen, but numbly bent down and picked up a chunk of Ramen from the floor. Scanning the linoleum, she found the half empty peanut butter jar and scooped out a mound on the noodles, then held it out to the … Pook thing?

  Comet looked at Rae in exasperation.

  “Now, who wants to eat tha-“

  The Pook cut her off mid-sentence as he flew out of her arms and gulped down the Ramen snack in one bite. His wings hung limply next to him as he licked the peanut butter from his teeth, and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. He moaned in ecstasy, making everyone uncomfortable.

  “Good Lord. He DOES enjoy his food….” Comet waved a hand at her throat, shocked.

  Rae slumped against the table. It was 3:45 a.m., she was deliriously tired, and the kitchen was a wreck. With a shudder, she remembered that her SHOP was a wreck, and now they had this POOK thing to deal with…what on Earth was happening?

  3.

  There was always a moment of vertigo, just before his shield kicked in and enveloped his body, helping him to adjust to this strange place of square dwellings and scuffed signs. He could feel the reassuring warmth that hummed with energy as the transparent barrier covered him from head to toe. He had to be careful and quick: he was using precious resources.

  His once mighty people were dimming... dwindling.

  Gno was tall, average for his people, but quite tall for this place. He towered over almost everyone, which made him conspicuous.

  He was all dark hair and almond eyes and lean muscle. Even his wrists were thoughtfully sculpted, with strong muscle and tendon moving under his skin with artful grace.

  He was inhumanly beautiful.

  He was inhuman.

  A drunken couple sauntered by, and Gno ducked around the corner of a Russian vodka bar with the grace of an equally Russian ballet dancer.

  The girl, who had her hair in tight braids, cackled as her friend stumbled against her. The two held each other up, laughing.

  “Where’s the lady with the bacon hot dogs. I nee sum hawddogs,” the girl slurred. The two stumbled off, barely missing a snoring homeless man, his face covered by a sleeping bag.

  Gno narrowed his eyes.

  These people were sloppy. They didn’t appreciate what they had.

  Their world wasn’t dying.

  Yet.

  There wasn’t much time; he had to move, now.

  Silently, he turned back around the corner and walked deliberately away with a fluid grace that made him stand out wherever he went.

  Luckily, there were few people awake to notice his search.

  That was until the drunken pals stumbled again; they had caught sight of him.

  “Woah, hey, Asian Henry Cavill, come on back here,” th
e guy called out.

  “Maybe he’s the white Henry Golding?” The girl wondered.

  The guy flailed am arm in the air at Gno. “Did he just step off a billboard on Sunset? Hey! You are on the wrong street, gorgeous! You’re on Santa Monica!”

  Gno figured the best defense was an offense.

  He stopped and turned to the pair.

  He kept quiet, studying them just a hair longer than necessary.

  “Hello,” he said. His voice was all low and warm tones.

  He smiled slowly at the pair and saluted them.

  The boy sighed audibly. The girl stumbled like a baby deer. They leaned on each other, dissolving into giggles.

  Gno’s smile warmed almost to genuine.

  He checked his belt and pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses. It was still dark, but he would soon need them, especially here, where the sun was downright aggressive. He was used to the cool, dark tunnels back home, where most of the city was underground, and the walls were carved from glimmering rock and colorful salts. The air here was warm and full of strange scents, and definitely unhealthy. Polluted. Nothing like the carefully balanced, cycled air at home. Everything at home was eternally cool. No matter how much they refined the climate control system, the place would never warm up beyond what these Earthers would call “sweater weather.”

  But here...

  Just as Gno looked up at the sky, another streak of light caught his eye. A green streak, surely to be mistaken for a meteor by most of the Earthers.

  He frowned.

  Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away from the young lushes.

  “Hey! Where you going?” the boy called out. “Can I have your autograph?” the girl shouted. There was more laughing as they stumbled off.

  This was no time to play games.

  Gno took a moment to appreciate the deep electric blue of the early morning sky. This place was not without its charms.

  His cousin had failed, not that he minded. He would enjoy teasing her with his own victory when he returned.

  And maybe, maybe he could earn back what he’d lost.

  But for now... he had blue-haired prey to hunt.

  ◆◆◆

  Rae couldn’t breathe.