Vaughn R. Demont's Blog, page 25
January 3, 2011
Reader Mail Mondays: Text Edition
So I received a couple fan letters today. One of them asked me some questions that I'm happy to answer. The other was hate mail, which I'm happy to laugh at. :)
Let's get the questions out of the way first.
1) This might be a little personal, but the dedication for Vampire Fred is "For Angie, who loves to see boys kissing", and I was curious if there was a story behind that?
Kind of. I had quite a few beta readers for Fred, and well, one of them really didn't like the mystery subplot, thinking I should have concentrated solely on the romantic aspect of the plot because "the people who read these don't care about complex urban fantasy, they just want the romantic plots and that's all." If anyone's curious, the "people who read these" are, according to demographics, primarily women. Feel free to be insulted, I know I was when I heard that, and I'm a guy.
Anyway, rather than get pissed about it, I called my friend Angie, and told her about it, and we made a running gag of it, particularly while playing Left 4 Dead and Gears of War over XBox Live. I'd ask her to clear a room, and she'd come back with "Don't ask me to do that! I'm just a girl, thinking's too hard! I just want to see boys kissing!" And then we'd die because we'd be laughing too hard. So when it came time to do final edits on Fred, I decided to give her the dedication to further our inside joke, and well, that's why it's there. She found it hilarious, and still brings it up while we're playing Borderlands.
2) ...I also read your Inside Reader and saw a lot of TV shows. Are you not a big reader?
I do read, just not as much as I probably should. When Richelle Mead comes out with a new Georgina Kincaid, or there's a new Dresden Files paperback I'm all over it (I HATE having to wait a year), or a new Sookie Stackhouse novel. Other than that, yeah, a lot of my influences come from TV, movies, graphic novels, webcomics, even video games. I think part of it is just my generation, another that while I was studying at SUNY Oswego, the "cinematic" style of storytelling was pretty big at the time, so it was an influence to say the least. Apparently Americans watched more TV last year than they did any year before, so I'd like to think that it's affecting what modern readers expect out of a plot, or at least the ones who read popular fiction. I do occasionally read LitFic, but more often than not I dip into memoir if I'm going to read something outside of Urban Fantasy.
3) I'm glad to hear that House of Stone will be coming out in book form. If I send it to you, would you sign it?
I've actually been asked this quite a bit, really, mostly by friends, but the answer is... More than likely. Honestly, I'm not expecting a flood of books to show up at my house, or at a P.O. Box should I rent one specifically for this, but I figure if you're going to pay to ship the book to me and back to you, the least I can do is sign it and write you a little something, right?
And now, well, the hate mail. :)
This one, well, it was all over the place. There were a couple profanities and a lot more misspelled words, leading me to believe this person wasn't entirely sober during their trolling attempt. I was accused of ripping off 6 different authors, 5 of which I'd never heard of (though their names might've been grossly misspelled), and the 6th, well...
"ur dont have 1 orginal idea in any of ur books. You just wish u could rite a book like eragon now THATS fuckin original!"
Seriously, I nearly laughed myself to death when I read that. It made my day.
Let's get the questions out of the way first.
1) This might be a little personal, but the dedication for Vampire Fred is "For Angie, who loves to see boys kissing", and I was curious if there was a story behind that?
Kind of. I had quite a few beta readers for Fred, and well, one of them really didn't like the mystery subplot, thinking I should have concentrated solely on the romantic aspect of the plot because "the people who read these don't care about complex urban fantasy, they just want the romantic plots and that's all." If anyone's curious, the "people who read these" are, according to demographics, primarily women. Feel free to be insulted, I know I was when I heard that, and I'm a guy.
Anyway, rather than get pissed about it, I called my friend Angie, and told her about it, and we made a running gag of it, particularly while playing Left 4 Dead and Gears of War over XBox Live. I'd ask her to clear a room, and she'd come back with "Don't ask me to do that! I'm just a girl, thinking's too hard! I just want to see boys kissing!" And then we'd die because we'd be laughing too hard. So when it came time to do final edits on Fred, I decided to give her the dedication to further our inside joke, and well, that's why it's there. She found it hilarious, and still brings it up while we're playing Borderlands.
2) ...I also read your Inside Reader and saw a lot of TV shows. Are you not a big reader?
I do read, just not as much as I probably should. When Richelle Mead comes out with a new Georgina Kincaid, or there's a new Dresden Files paperback I'm all over it (I HATE having to wait a year), or a new Sookie Stackhouse novel. Other than that, yeah, a lot of my influences come from TV, movies, graphic novels, webcomics, even video games. I think part of it is just my generation, another that while I was studying at SUNY Oswego, the "cinematic" style of storytelling was pretty big at the time, so it was an influence to say the least. Apparently Americans watched more TV last year than they did any year before, so I'd like to think that it's affecting what modern readers expect out of a plot, or at least the ones who read popular fiction. I do occasionally read LitFic, but more often than not I dip into memoir if I'm going to read something outside of Urban Fantasy.
3) I'm glad to hear that House of Stone will be coming out in book form. If I send it to you, would you sign it?
I've actually been asked this quite a bit, really, mostly by friends, but the answer is... More than likely. Honestly, I'm not expecting a flood of books to show up at my house, or at a P.O. Box should I rent one specifically for this, but I figure if you're going to pay to ship the book to me and back to you, the least I can do is sign it and write you a little something, right?
And now, well, the hate mail. :)
This one, well, it was all over the place. There were a couple profanities and a lot more misspelled words, leading me to believe this person wasn't entirely sober during their trolling attempt. I was accused of ripping off 6 different authors, 5 of which I'd never heard of (though their names might've been grossly misspelled), and the 6th, well...
"ur dont have 1 orginal idea in any of ur books. You just wish u could rite a book like eragon now THATS fuckin original!"
Seriously, I nearly laughed myself to death when I read that. It made my day.
January 2, 2011
From Twitter 01-02-2011
13:13:57: This article made me smile, and feel very old. "Words "viral" and "epic" consigned to college trash" - http://yhoo.it/eIQXVL
17:35:33: Just got back from seeing Tron: Legacy. I'll give it a Meh +. Put simply, the best 3D of the day was the trailer for Pirates 4.
Tweets copied by twittinesis.com
January 1, 2011
From Twitter 01-01-2011
00:45:42: I resolve to be more grateful.
01:04:10: Happy New Year, readers! :)
Tweets copied by twittinesis.com
December 31, 2010
December 30, 2010
From Twitter 12-30-2010
14:52:24: I resolve that I will promise to not make a resolution, but then make one anyway in the 11th hour.
22:09:40: @darkonfire Actually, it's more that Daria would be James's favorite show. :)
22:10:03: @reech_me Is it bad that I could follow that?
Tweets copied by twittinesis.com
Free Fiction Friday: The King's Confidante - Conclusion
x-posted to
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Welcome back to Free Fiction Friday!
The archive for the freeficfriday community is up to date, so if you've been looking for where you can read all of the FFF material from all of the participating authors in one place, you're set. :)
Everything's tagged according to author, title, and genre for easier reading, but if you prefer to stick with Spence on my blog, just click the "free fiction fridays" tag if you need to catch up.
This week's posting roster consists of: Vaughn R. Demont![[info]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380442897i/1319734.gif)
vaughn_r_demont
, Cassandra Gold
cassandra_gold
, Michael Mandrake
desiresdd
and I.D. Locke
id_locke
.
Interested in joining the Free Fictioneers? We have weekly and bi-weekly slots, and guest author spot open for interested authors. For more information, please send any inquiries to the moderators
vaughn_r_demont
and/or
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Anyway, without further ado, please enjoy the conclusion of "The King's Confidante". :)
If you ever find yourself stabbed and bleeding in the City, I wholeheartedly recommend the emergency room at Mercy Hospital in Destry Bay. Sure, we had to drive a lot longer, but Rourke seemed dead set on getting me the best medical care he could, even though I'm pretty sure St. Josef's in Grunstadt would've been fine, seeing as the bleeding doesn't seem as bad.
Still though, I didn't even have to wait a minute. The moment Rourke flashed his insurance card and said I was covered I was on a bed and getting my wound cleaned and checked before I even had time to ask where I was going.
They also gave me painkillers. Exceptional painkillers. In case you've ever wondered, hospital air tastes like purple, which itself tastes like chicken and waffles after really good sex.
"So, how are we doing, Mr. Crain?" Where did the doctor come from? I get to see a doctor? Holy shit, I do have good insurance now.
"I love you, Dr. Something." I've also professed my undying love to the nurses, my IV stand, my pillow, the ceiling pattern, the linoleum, and everything else in sight in the last twenty minutes. I mean, c'mon, if we all just stopped and loved everyone, there wouldn't be any war, or pain, or suffering, or reality television. "Are you seeing anybody?" I can't really tell if it's a boy or girl doctor, but I'm bisect… Business-sex… Botoxical… Buy sex, you all? I'd fuck either.
My God, am I high.
"I don't date family, sorry." Huh? I hear the doctor sigh. "We really shouldn't have this conversation if you're like this." I feel a hand on mine, and then…
"Aw dude…" Ok, nasty come-down. Ow. "What the Hell, man?"
"You were stoned out of your gourd." When my vision clears, I see my grandfather (the one who's a god, not the other guy who dropped out of seminary) standing over me.
"Man, after the week I've had, don't you think I could use a little recreational time? This was probably the only time in my life I'll get high seeing that that shit messes up your game." I check my arm, which is heavily bandaged, and has receded to a warm throbbing.
"Going to be a scar there, but it'll add to your mystique." He pulls over a chair and sits down, wearing a white coat and stethoscope. "Your mother's in the next room, waiting. So I thought we should talk."
"Is she okay?"
"Physically? Fine. Mentally? That camel's back is one straw away. But we'll get to that. I told you I didn't want my ex to die." Considering the foreboding in that statement, I'm surprised he came off as glib as he did.
"I didn't kill her. And you told me not to kill her."
"So why is she suddenly calling me, telling me that she doesn't have much time left and it's my half-breed grandson's fault?" He pauses a second. "She was the one who called you half-breed, just in case you want to be offended."
"I thought Fate would've told you everything." I see him arch his brow, and I lean forward. "You do know that Clotho's after her, right? All I did was point Selah out. And she called you? What, you've got a cell number?"
"Answering service. She was going to go after you, you know, and then your mother. This is why I'm here right now."
"To protect us?"
He smiles, but it's not entirely reassuring. "That all depends on how this conversation goes."
"I'll tell you everything, okay? Long or short version?"
He looks up at the EKG hooked up to me. "Whatever you want, I've got a lie detector right here."
"The Fates gave my mom and I a cab ride to my grandmother's house, and I can't believe I just said that out loud and meant it." The look in Coyote's eyes belies that I should go with the short version. "Clotho was angry because Selah tried to tell her how to spin a thread or something, on multiple occasions if Hank, Thornton and I are any indicators. So she asked me to avenge her against Selah."
"And you did this, how?"
I shrug. "I blessed her. It brought her to the attention of the Fates, they gave her until dawn as a head start, and she took off."
"And why are my son and two of my grandchildren calling from different places in Eastern Europe?"
"I honestly have no idea how to explain how something like that could be done. Wait, different places?"
He nods. "Justin called from Prague telling me he'd be back before sunset, and asked for permission to kill you. I told him I'd get back to him. Henry was with him, I think. Thornton called not long after from Kiev asking if he could spend some time in London and then told me that not only did you save his life from being sacrificed to a dead Ra'keth, but that you very well might be one." Coyote shrugs. "Granted, they might be lying."
"You can't tell?"
"If I could, wouldn't make for good stories, would it? Even I need to be fooled every now and then, when Fate deems it necessary." He reaches into his coat pocket and retrieves a pack of cigarettes, lighting one. "So Clotho herself asked you to take care of Selah."
"Even kissed me a couple times. I don't have a shot there, but hey, my fantasies will be more detailed." His demeanor has shifted, more at ease, relaxed. Whatever way he's leaning, it's decided. "She said she forgave me, but why? For what Dad and Selah planned? Me being half-blooded?"
Coyote shrugs, and takes a pull on his cigarette. I keep waiting for alarms to go off. "I try not to understand those ladies. They get mad at you, it might be for something indirect you did, something you did in another life or world. Hell, they'll get pissed for shit you ain't even done yet, 'cause with us, there's no question that we'll do it. Y'see, even Lachesis ain't a perfect weaver, there's a snag every now and then, but it's easier to just blame the thread. If you got all three of them angry though, then you're going to do something bad."
I'm sure he can see me trembling.
"Relax, Spencer, no point in worrying about it now. Besides, if Clotho forgave you, maybe you can make nice with the other two." He takes another puff on his cigarette, exhaling the plume of smoke away from me. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I never called her back." He removes his smoke, and drops it to the linoleum, crushing it out with his boot. "Good-bye, Selah. We could've had something good, but you turned out to be one crazy bitch."
"Uh, you did kind of cheat on her." The glare I receive in reply convinces me to drop the subject. She did try to chase me down and stab me to death, and nearly succeeded, so it's not like I'm going to hop on her apology train, and assigning blame seems a moot point right now. "So what happens now?"
"Remember you asked me about your mom, and I said we'd get to that?"
I nod.
"Now we get to that." About a minute passes before he speaks, and he doesn't make eye contact. "I got to tell you, kid, this won't turn out well for you one way or the other, by your reckoning."
"Please, just tell me."
Coyote looks toward the door, and then back at me. "That woman comes in here, sees you like this, not just hurt, but as you are, that's it for her. She's a strong girl, no doubt, otherwise she would've cracked a while ago, but humans can't handle this shit unless they're Ra'Keth, and she ain't one of them. Humans can only see this so long, rationalize so much before they're done. I've got a couple of your uncles out there running block, keeping the waiting room nice and normal. That Dog took some convincing, but he agreed it was best for her. Can't keep it up forever, though."
"What are you saying?" I can feel my eyes getting hot.
"You did right by Mama Fate, none of my children died, you've earned a boon from me, and I think I know what it can be. But you've got to make a choice." He then looks to the door. I think I even hear Mom out there, asking an orderly for information, and being told that the doctor's in with me right now.
My voice grows smaller, my eyes locking on the door. "What are you going to do?"
"You wanted out. I can give that to you, you'll be free of all of this." He leans forward, and pushes my chin over so I'm looking at him. "I'll renounce my blood from you. You'll be one of them. Human. Whether you end up believing all of this happened, that's up to you. But…"
I swallow hard, and wait for him to continue.
"If you do this, Spencer, nothing changes for her. She'll still have seen everything. You'll be normal to her, but she'll still be right there, on the edge, and there will come a day where she goes into herself and never comes out, but at least you'll know it wasn't you that did it."
I don't know how much time passes before I answer. "And the other choice?"
"A trick is played on your mother. A grand one, and when it is done, she will believe completely that she has never seen anything supernatural. Ever. And she never will see any of it."
"But?" I can feel the dread hanging over me.
"For the trick to take, she has to forget, kid. All of it. Your father, your brothers, her time with the Dog…" Coyote looks reluctant to continue.
"She'll forget me, won't she?"
He nods once, and I feel my heart crumble.
I see two paths that lead from here, Spencer, you will want to take the one where you said goodbye.
"Why do I have to pick one or the other?"
"I'm calling in a favor from Fate herself, kid, to make sure this all takes, one way or the other. This affects a lot of people, everyone you and her have ever been in contact with, directly or indirectly, and that is one Hell of a job. I don't get many of those kind of favors." He stands up. "I'll give you a little time."
She makes grilled cheeses even at three in the morning if she's on a roll while she's writing, and doesn't mind making an extra one if you're up. She loves those formulaic romantic comedies because people deserve a happy ending once in a while. She will kick your ass if you're even a minute past curfew and her groundings have no appeals. She has a laugh that brightens your day, and she can tell you that everything's going to be okay with just a smile.
"Will she be okay? If you trick her, will she be okay?" I swallow hard. "I mean, will she still be… her?" I sniffle, and he hands me a tissue from thin air. "I don't want her to end up a different person than I remember."
My grandfather puts his hand on my shoulder, and squeezes it gently. "I can promise you she'll be exactly who she'll be meant to be."
Another minute passes before I close my eyes and softly nod. I hear the door open and close a few seconds later, and then I finally let go.
The door opens not long afterward, and Rourke enters, carrying a small duffel bag, crossing the room quickly to my bedside. There aren't any words, he just drops the bag and takes me in his arms and holds me close, warm. I cry, I probably even sob and wail a bit, but in the end, I know that I made the right choice, I did what was best for her. God, I hope I did. I couldn't have protected her forever from the world, even if I'd told Coyote to stuff both his choices. Either way, Mom would end up lost, and it would be my fault.
"Can I stay with you, Rourke?"
"Of course. For tonight?" I pull back from him, and he can read my eyes, and he smiles warmly. "As long as you need, Spencer."
"I don't know if you… Coyote, he's going to…"
"It's already done." He sees my shock. "A god works quickly. It was… She didn't even know me." Rourke smiles weakly. "I can understand why you chose that. I suppose both of us will be wishing it could have been different. At least one thing held, though."
I arch a brow. "What?"
"There was a rather potent blessing on her, good luck, long life, peace and plenty. It survived the trick only slightly diminished. Fate will watch and keep her, it would seem."
I nod once, and Rourke lets go of me, and picks up the duffel bag, where clean clothes are inside. "Let's depart, yes? We could both use a rest." The bag is handed to me, and he turns around, respectfully, even though he's seen me naked countless times now.
"I think I'll be a wreck for the next few days. That sounds like a good plan."
"As long as you're not missing any school, not at all." He looks over his shoulder and smirks slightly at my surprise. "I feel the best way to honor Rachel would be to make sure you finish your education. Besides, I won't have a drop-out working at my lot." Rourke then motions to the as-yet put on clothes.
"Do I have to go tomorrow?" I start getting dressed, and check the clock in the room. "Or rather, today?"
"You can have today. We have a lot to discuss, after all, if you're going to be staying with me."
"Big step, I know, especially considering the conversation we had earlier, yeah." I finish dressing. "Not really the time, though. Hey, remember when I said there was something I wanted to do if we won?"
"Yes?" I'm surprised that there isn't a lecherous tone in his voice.
"Could we just go home, curl up on the couch, and watch TV?" I look at my feet. "I know it's dumb, and boring, but…"
He pulls me to him, embracing me again, and we stay like that for another minute before heading out into the waiting room. Mom isn't there, nor is my grandfather. I guess Fate had other plans for them, or maybe it's just being made a little easier. Rourke signs me out, already having filled out dozens of forms while waiting, I would guess, and we exit out to the parking lot to his Rover.
I take a deep breath when I get in, seeing my blood still staining the front seat. I end up moving into the back when Rourke gets in and starts the car. He doesn't comment on me moving. I think he gets it.
I catch a glimpse of her, though, as we pull out of the parking lot. She's on the corner, trying to wave down a cab, and before I can tell Rourke to slow down, we're already passing her, a green light ordering us through the intersection. Like I said, only a glimpse, but I'll remember it for the rest of my life. She's smiling.
"I love you, Mom. Goodbye."
Epilogue
Summer school sucked.
Boring as Hell. No one wanted to see any card tricks.
I really didn't have anyone to blame but myself, though, considering all the time I skipped and how feeble my grip on a June graduation was. I had to settle for early August instead. That's right, Spencer Crain: high school graduate. I don't know about college, I'll take a year or two off, see how everything goes, though I'll probably have to pull off the con to end all cons to afford four years of college in the City.
I finally got a hold of Bank, let him know I was going to stick with the City for a while longer, he was cool with it. He'll be back down in a few months and we'll see if we can put something together. I asked about "James", but it turns out Bank got stoned off his ass that night and confused the AM with PM and showed up to the station twelve hours late as a result. I'd like to think that the guy made it okay though, he did have someplace to go when he got to the Capital. It's something I wonder about, but nothing that's keeping me up at nights.
I haven't seen a whit of Dad, or either of my brothers. I honestly don't know what I'd do if I did see them. I saved Thornton's life, yeah, but I'm still kind of pissed that he wouldn't do the same for me. Seen a bit of Grandpa, though, been learning a little here and there. I suck at pool, but at least I know what the Hell he's talking about when he starts digressing on masse.
If you're curious how things are going with Rourke, well, considering I'm on my way home to my "graduation party", and that said party will involve a certain Phouka and I fucking until neither of us can stand…
Friends with benefits is good. Roommates with benefits is awesome.
Still, if we're going to be doing that, I need to pick up a few things, carbo-load, all that, get some bottled water to stay hydrated, maybe a few energy bars considering I see the first few hours turning into a haze. And after we're done, or at least need a rest, we'll watch TV. I am so far behind it's not even funny. There are probably at least a dozen new tropes for me to read about.
Oh shit, my money's at home.
Do have my cards though…
A couple minutes later I'm in a small park ten blocks from home, running a one dollar Three Card. Low stakes and everyone's friendly, no one gets pissed, you're not putting anyone into the street. It's like a mini-block party. I switch up my banter, keeping it clean considering there are some kids watching me intently. (I don't let them play. A buck is a lot when you're eight.) I go with the rhymes, stuff you use when you're starting out because it's funny and easy to remember, but can make you a little cookie-cutter.
I'm up about ten bucks, I'll cut off at twenty, that should be enough to…
"How much?"
When I look up, my mother's standing on the other side of the box. She's wearing a sun dress, a warm yellow, simple, her hair wind-tossed, eyes bright. I can see a couple laugh lines on her face. She smiles, and I know everything's going to be okay. She then waves her hand in front of me.
"Hello in there!" The crowd chuckles, and I look at my feet, blushing. "Oh, there he is. So how much to play?"
"Um, have we met?"
She studies me a moment, and then shakes her head. "I think I'd remember that hair."
"Yeah, uh, never dump a hair stylist before you fall asleep at her house." That gets a laugh. God, I've missed that laugh.
She then taps the box gently. "So how much then?"
I shake my head. "It's a dollar, but I can't take such a nice lady's money."
"So convinced you'll win?" There are some playful oohs from the assembled people, and I take out my deck, and the three cards.
"Tell you what, I'll do a trick for you, a special one, and if you like it, you can tip me a buck. If not, hey, no hard feelings. How about it?" I go through shuffling the cards, using all of my flashy trick shuffles that really don't help randomizing at all, but it's a show now, and I plan to put on a good one. Besides, there's a question that was never answered for me that night, and I think I know how to get an answer.
"All right, let's see what you've got."
"What I want you to do is think of any card in the deck, any card at all, and whisper it to anyone here. Just wave at me when you've got it." I then make a show of covering my ears and humming loudly. And after a second, she beckons over one of the onlookers, another man, tall, black, rather good looking, and whispers in his ear, obscuring her mouth with her hand. She then waves at me, and I uncover my ears.
"All set?"
She nods, smiling again. I wait a few more seconds, just enjoying the moment of anticipation, and then, quite suddenly, I toss the cards into the air. They hang there for the barest of seconds before their descent.
Mom always picked the same card, in the beginning to help me learn the tricks, but then it just turned into a running gag. She was always the one I practiced my tricks on, the one who helped me with set-up, everything. Mom even wrote the little note for the trick I did for Miss Scott that day, when this all started.
If it's really her, she'll have picked that card.
I thrust my hand into the falling hearts and diamonds and spades and close my fingers.
I trust Fate.
The rest of the cards fall onto the box, into the grass, a few people chuckling as if I'd mucked up the trick. Slowly, deliberately, I turn the Ace of Clubs in her direction.
"Is this your card?"
Her eyes go wide, as well as the eyes of the man she whispered to.
"Oh my God!" She smiles big in amazement, laughing as the crowd applauds, and my heart suddenly feels so much lighter. "How did you know I'd pick that?"
God help me, I can't stop myself from saying it. "Because I'm—"
The man she whispered to puts an arm around her, grinning, and she leans into him. They kiss, and when I look at her, specifically her left hand, I see a ring there.
"What was that?" She breaks the kiss suddenly, giggling. "Sorry, he just asked me an hour ago."
"Really?"
The man speaks up. "Played a little trick on her."
She laughs. "He wrote a proposal scene and slipped it into a novel I'm working on. I was thinking I was going crazy, because I didn't remember writing it…"
The man grins. "I thought she'd be pissed, actually, it wasn't written all that well." He looks into her eyes. "I heard her start laughing and I thought I'd blown my chances."
"Well, like I'm always telling you, baby, you gotta laugh, right? So anyway, I'm about to get up and tell him it was funny when suddenly he's there with the ring and… " She sniffles, happy, overjoyed, but she wipes her eyes. "Sorry."
"No, it's okay. Congratulations. I'm happy for you two." I mean it, too.
Oh my God, I really do.
She regains her composure. "All right." She taps the box a few more times. "C'mon. How'd you do that?"
I shrug, and give her my easy smile. "Sorry, that's the first rule. Never reveal your secrets." And she laughs, he does too, and I join in.
'Cause hey, you gotta laugh, right?
11:03pm
December 1, 2010
By Vaughn R. Demont
And that's it. See you next year. :)
freeficfriday
Welcome back to Free Fiction Friday!
The archive for the freeficfriday community is up to date, so if you've been looking for where you can read all of the FFF material from all of the participating authors in one place, you're set. :)
Everything's tagged according to author, title, and genre for easier reading, but if you prefer to stick with Spence on my blog, just click the "free fiction fridays" tag if you need to catch up.
This week's posting roster consists of: Vaughn R. Demont
vaughn_r_demont
, Cassandra Gold
cassandra_gold
, Michael Mandrake
desiresdd
and I.D. Locke
id_locke
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vaughn_r_demont
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id_locke
Anyway, without further ado, please enjoy the conclusion of "The King's Confidante". :)
If you ever find yourself stabbed and bleeding in the City, I wholeheartedly recommend the emergency room at Mercy Hospital in Destry Bay. Sure, we had to drive a lot longer, but Rourke seemed dead set on getting me the best medical care he could, even though I'm pretty sure St. Josef's in Grunstadt would've been fine, seeing as the bleeding doesn't seem as bad.
Still though, I didn't even have to wait a minute. The moment Rourke flashed his insurance card and said I was covered I was on a bed and getting my wound cleaned and checked before I even had time to ask where I was going.
They also gave me painkillers. Exceptional painkillers. In case you've ever wondered, hospital air tastes like purple, which itself tastes like chicken and waffles after really good sex.
"So, how are we doing, Mr. Crain?" Where did the doctor come from? I get to see a doctor? Holy shit, I do have good insurance now.
"I love you, Dr. Something." I've also professed my undying love to the nurses, my IV stand, my pillow, the ceiling pattern, the linoleum, and everything else in sight in the last twenty minutes. I mean, c'mon, if we all just stopped and loved everyone, there wouldn't be any war, or pain, or suffering, or reality television. "Are you seeing anybody?" I can't really tell if it's a boy or girl doctor, but I'm bisect… Business-sex… Botoxical… Buy sex, you all? I'd fuck either.
My God, am I high.
"I don't date family, sorry." Huh? I hear the doctor sigh. "We really shouldn't have this conversation if you're like this." I feel a hand on mine, and then…
"Aw dude…" Ok, nasty come-down. Ow. "What the Hell, man?"
"You were stoned out of your gourd." When my vision clears, I see my grandfather (the one who's a god, not the other guy who dropped out of seminary) standing over me.
"Man, after the week I've had, don't you think I could use a little recreational time? This was probably the only time in my life I'll get high seeing that that shit messes up your game." I check my arm, which is heavily bandaged, and has receded to a warm throbbing.
"Going to be a scar there, but it'll add to your mystique." He pulls over a chair and sits down, wearing a white coat and stethoscope. "Your mother's in the next room, waiting. So I thought we should talk."
"Is she okay?"
"Physically? Fine. Mentally? That camel's back is one straw away. But we'll get to that. I told you I didn't want my ex to die." Considering the foreboding in that statement, I'm surprised he came off as glib as he did.
"I didn't kill her. And you told me not to kill her."
"So why is she suddenly calling me, telling me that she doesn't have much time left and it's my half-breed grandson's fault?" He pauses a second. "She was the one who called you half-breed, just in case you want to be offended."
"I thought Fate would've told you everything." I see him arch his brow, and I lean forward. "You do know that Clotho's after her, right? All I did was point Selah out. And she called you? What, you've got a cell number?"
"Answering service. She was going to go after you, you know, and then your mother. This is why I'm here right now."
"To protect us?"
He smiles, but it's not entirely reassuring. "That all depends on how this conversation goes."
"I'll tell you everything, okay? Long or short version?"
He looks up at the EKG hooked up to me. "Whatever you want, I've got a lie detector right here."
"The Fates gave my mom and I a cab ride to my grandmother's house, and I can't believe I just said that out loud and meant it." The look in Coyote's eyes belies that I should go with the short version. "Clotho was angry because Selah tried to tell her how to spin a thread or something, on multiple occasions if Hank, Thornton and I are any indicators. So she asked me to avenge her against Selah."
"And you did this, how?"
I shrug. "I blessed her. It brought her to the attention of the Fates, they gave her until dawn as a head start, and she took off."
"And why are my son and two of my grandchildren calling from different places in Eastern Europe?"
"I honestly have no idea how to explain how something like that could be done. Wait, different places?"
He nods. "Justin called from Prague telling me he'd be back before sunset, and asked for permission to kill you. I told him I'd get back to him. Henry was with him, I think. Thornton called not long after from Kiev asking if he could spend some time in London and then told me that not only did you save his life from being sacrificed to a dead Ra'keth, but that you very well might be one." Coyote shrugs. "Granted, they might be lying."
"You can't tell?"
"If I could, wouldn't make for good stories, would it? Even I need to be fooled every now and then, when Fate deems it necessary." He reaches into his coat pocket and retrieves a pack of cigarettes, lighting one. "So Clotho herself asked you to take care of Selah."
"Even kissed me a couple times. I don't have a shot there, but hey, my fantasies will be more detailed." His demeanor has shifted, more at ease, relaxed. Whatever way he's leaning, it's decided. "She said she forgave me, but why? For what Dad and Selah planned? Me being half-blooded?"
Coyote shrugs, and takes a pull on his cigarette. I keep waiting for alarms to go off. "I try not to understand those ladies. They get mad at you, it might be for something indirect you did, something you did in another life or world. Hell, they'll get pissed for shit you ain't even done yet, 'cause with us, there's no question that we'll do it. Y'see, even Lachesis ain't a perfect weaver, there's a snag every now and then, but it's easier to just blame the thread. If you got all three of them angry though, then you're going to do something bad."
I'm sure he can see me trembling.
"Relax, Spencer, no point in worrying about it now. Besides, if Clotho forgave you, maybe you can make nice with the other two." He takes another puff on his cigarette, exhaling the plume of smoke away from me. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I never called her back." He removes his smoke, and drops it to the linoleum, crushing it out with his boot. "Good-bye, Selah. We could've had something good, but you turned out to be one crazy bitch."
"Uh, you did kind of cheat on her." The glare I receive in reply convinces me to drop the subject. She did try to chase me down and stab me to death, and nearly succeeded, so it's not like I'm going to hop on her apology train, and assigning blame seems a moot point right now. "So what happens now?"
"Remember you asked me about your mom, and I said we'd get to that?"
I nod.
"Now we get to that." About a minute passes before he speaks, and he doesn't make eye contact. "I got to tell you, kid, this won't turn out well for you one way or the other, by your reckoning."
"Please, just tell me."
Coyote looks toward the door, and then back at me. "That woman comes in here, sees you like this, not just hurt, but as you are, that's it for her. She's a strong girl, no doubt, otherwise she would've cracked a while ago, but humans can't handle this shit unless they're Ra'Keth, and she ain't one of them. Humans can only see this so long, rationalize so much before they're done. I've got a couple of your uncles out there running block, keeping the waiting room nice and normal. That Dog took some convincing, but he agreed it was best for her. Can't keep it up forever, though."
"What are you saying?" I can feel my eyes getting hot.
"You did right by Mama Fate, none of my children died, you've earned a boon from me, and I think I know what it can be. But you've got to make a choice." He then looks to the door. I think I even hear Mom out there, asking an orderly for information, and being told that the doctor's in with me right now.
My voice grows smaller, my eyes locking on the door. "What are you going to do?"
"You wanted out. I can give that to you, you'll be free of all of this." He leans forward, and pushes my chin over so I'm looking at him. "I'll renounce my blood from you. You'll be one of them. Human. Whether you end up believing all of this happened, that's up to you. But…"
I swallow hard, and wait for him to continue.
"If you do this, Spencer, nothing changes for her. She'll still have seen everything. You'll be normal to her, but she'll still be right there, on the edge, and there will come a day where she goes into herself and never comes out, but at least you'll know it wasn't you that did it."
I don't know how much time passes before I answer. "And the other choice?"
"A trick is played on your mother. A grand one, and when it is done, she will believe completely that she has never seen anything supernatural. Ever. And she never will see any of it."
"But?" I can feel the dread hanging over me.
"For the trick to take, she has to forget, kid. All of it. Your father, your brothers, her time with the Dog…" Coyote looks reluctant to continue.
"She'll forget me, won't she?"
He nods once, and I feel my heart crumble.
I see two paths that lead from here, Spencer, you will want to take the one where you said goodbye.
"Why do I have to pick one or the other?"
"I'm calling in a favor from Fate herself, kid, to make sure this all takes, one way or the other. This affects a lot of people, everyone you and her have ever been in contact with, directly or indirectly, and that is one Hell of a job. I don't get many of those kind of favors." He stands up. "I'll give you a little time."
She makes grilled cheeses even at three in the morning if she's on a roll while she's writing, and doesn't mind making an extra one if you're up. She loves those formulaic romantic comedies because people deserve a happy ending once in a while. She will kick your ass if you're even a minute past curfew and her groundings have no appeals. She has a laugh that brightens your day, and she can tell you that everything's going to be okay with just a smile.
"Will she be okay? If you trick her, will she be okay?" I swallow hard. "I mean, will she still be… her?" I sniffle, and he hands me a tissue from thin air. "I don't want her to end up a different person than I remember."
My grandfather puts his hand on my shoulder, and squeezes it gently. "I can promise you she'll be exactly who she'll be meant to be."
Another minute passes before I close my eyes and softly nod. I hear the door open and close a few seconds later, and then I finally let go.
The door opens not long afterward, and Rourke enters, carrying a small duffel bag, crossing the room quickly to my bedside. There aren't any words, he just drops the bag and takes me in his arms and holds me close, warm. I cry, I probably even sob and wail a bit, but in the end, I know that I made the right choice, I did what was best for her. God, I hope I did. I couldn't have protected her forever from the world, even if I'd told Coyote to stuff both his choices. Either way, Mom would end up lost, and it would be my fault.
"Can I stay with you, Rourke?"
"Of course. For tonight?" I pull back from him, and he can read my eyes, and he smiles warmly. "As long as you need, Spencer."
"I don't know if you… Coyote, he's going to…"
"It's already done." He sees my shock. "A god works quickly. It was… She didn't even know me." Rourke smiles weakly. "I can understand why you chose that. I suppose both of us will be wishing it could have been different. At least one thing held, though."
I arch a brow. "What?"
"There was a rather potent blessing on her, good luck, long life, peace and plenty. It survived the trick only slightly diminished. Fate will watch and keep her, it would seem."
I nod once, and Rourke lets go of me, and picks up the duffel bag, where clean clothes are inside. "Let's depart, yes? We could both use a rest." The bag is handed to me, and he turns around, respectfully, even though he's seen me naked countless times now.
"I think I'll be a wreck for the next few days. That sounds like a good plan."
"As long as you're not missing any school, not at all." He looks over his shoulder and smirks slightly at my surprise. "I feel the best way to honor Rachel would be to make sure you finish your education. Besides, I won't have a drop-out working at my lot." Rourke then motions to the as-yet put on clothes.
"Do I have to go tomorrow?" I start getting dressed, and check the clock in the room. "Or rather, today?"
"You can have today. We have a lot to discuss, after all, if you're going to be staying with me."
"Big step, I know, especially considering the conversation we had earlier, yeah." I finish dressing. "Not really the time, though. Hey, remember when I said there was something I wanted to do if we won?"
"Yes?" I'm surprised that there isn't a lecherous tone in his voice.
"Could we just go home, curl up on the couch, and watch TV?" I look at my feet. "I know it's dumb, and boring, but…"
He pulls me to him, embracing me again, and we stay like that for another minute before heading out into the waiting room. Mom isn't there, nor is my grandfather. I guess Fate had other plans for them, or maybe it's just being made a little easier. Rourke signs me out, already having filled out dozens of forms while waiting, I would guess, and we exit out to the parking lot to his Rover.
I take a deep breath when I get in, seeing my blood still staining the front seat. I end up moving into the back when Rourke gets in and starts the car. He doesn't comment on me moving. I think he gets it.
I catch a glimpse of her, though, as we pull out of the parking lot. She's on the corner, trying to wave down a cab, and before I can tell Rourke to slow down, we're already passing her, a green light ordering us through the intersection. Like I said, only a glimpse, but I'll remember it for the rest of my life. She's smiling.
"I love you, Mom. Goodbye."
Epilogue
Summer school sucked.
Boring as Hell. No one wanted to see any card tricks.
I really didn't have anyone to blame but myself, though, considering all the time I skipped and how feeble my grip on a June graduation was. I had to settle for early August instead. That's right, Spencer Crain: high school graduate. I don't know about college, I'll take a year or two off, see how everything goes, though I'll probably have to pull off the con to end all cons to afford four years of college in the City.
I finally got a hold of Bank, let him know I was going to stick with the City for a while longer, he was cool with it. He'll be back down in a few months and we'll see if we can put something together. I asked about "James", but it turns out Bank got stoned off his ass that night and confused the AM with PM and showed up to the station twelve hours late as a result. I'd like to think that the guy made it okay though, he did have someplace to go when he got to the Capital. It's something I wonder about, but nothing that's keeping me up at nights.
I haven't seen a whit of Dad, or either of my brothers. I honestly don't know what I'd do if I did see them. I saved Thornton's life, yeah, but I'm still kind of pissed that he wouldn't do the same for me. Seen a bit of Grandpa, though, been learning a little here and there. I suck at pool, but at least I know what the Hell he's talking about when he starts digressing on masse.
If you're curious how things are going with Rourke, well, considering I'm on my way home to my "graduation party", and that said party will involve a certain Phouka and I fucking until neither of us can stand…
Friends with benefits is good. Roommates with benefits is awesome.
Still, if we're going to be doing that, I need to pick up a few things, carbo-load, all that, get some bottled water to stay hydrated, maybe a few energy bars considering I see the first few hours turning into a haze. And after we're done, or at least need a rest, we'll watch TV. I am so far behind it's not even funny. There are probably at least a dozen new tropes for me to read about.
Oh shit, my money's at home.
Do have my cards though…
A couple minutes later I'm in a small park ten blocks from home, running a one dollar Three Card. Low stakes and everyone's friendly, no one gets pissed, you're not putting anyone into the street. It's like a mini-block party. I switch up my banter, keeping it clean considering there are some kids watching me intently. (I don't let them play. A buck is a lot when you're eight.) I go with the rhymes, stuff you use when you're starting out because it's funny and easy to remember, but can make you a little cookie-cutter.
I'm up about ten bucks, I'll cut off at twenty, that should be enough to…
"How much?"
When I look up, my mother's standing on the other side of the box. She's wearing a sun dress, a warm yellow, simple, her hair wind-tossed, eyes bright. I can see a couple laugh lines on her face. She smiles, and I know everything's going to be okay. She then waves her hand in front of me.
"Hello in there!" The crowd chuckles, and I look at my feet, blushing. "Oh, there he is. So how much to play?"
"Um, have we met?"
She studies me a moment, and then shakes her head. "I think I'd remember that hair."
"Yeah, uh, never dump a hair stylist before you fall asleep at her house." That gets a laugh. God, I've missed that laugh.
She then taps the box gently. "So how much then?"
I shake my head. "It's a dollar, but I can't take such a nice lady's money."
"So convinced you'll win?" There are some playful oohs from the assembled people, and I take out my deck, and the three cards.
"Tell you what, I'll do a trick for you, a special one, and if you like it, you can tip me a buck. If not, hey, no hard feelings. How about it?" I go through shuffling the cards, using all of my flashy trick shuffles that really don't help randomizing at all, but it's a show now, and I plan to put on a good one. Besides, there's a question that was never answered for me that night, and I think I know how to get an answer.
"All right, let's see what you've got."
"What I want you to do is think of any card in the deck, any card at all, and whisper it to anyone here. Just wave at me when you've got it." I then make a show of covering my ears and humming loudly. And after a second, she beckons over one of the onlookers, another man, tall, black, rather good looking, and whispers in his ear, obscuring her mouth with her hand. She then waves at me, and I uncover my ears.
"All set?"
She nods, smiling again. I wait a few more seconds, just enjoying the moment of anticipation, and then, quite suddenly, I toss the cards into the air. They hang there for the barest of seconds before their descent.
Mom always picked the same card, in the beginning to help me learn the tricks, but then it just turned into a running gag. She was always the one I practiced my tricks on, the one who helped me with set-up, everything. Mom even wrote the little note for the trick I did for Miss Scott that day, when this all started.
If it's really her, she'll have picked that card.
I thrust my hand into the falling hearts and diamonds and spades and close my fingers.
I trust Fate.
The rest of the cards fall onto the box, into the grass, a few people chuckling as if I'd mucked up the trick. Slowly, deliberately, I turn the Ace of Clubs in her direction.
"Is this your card?"
Her eyes go wide, as well as the eyes of the man she whispered to.
"Oh my God!" She smiles big in amazement, laughing as the crowd applauds, and my heart suddenly feels so much lighter. "How did you know I'd pick that?"
God help me, I can't stop myself from saying it. "Because I'm—"
The man she whispered to puts an arm around her, grinning, and she leans into him. They kiss, and when I look at her, specifically her left hand, I see a ring there.
"What was that?" She breaks the kiss suddenly, giggling. "Sorry, he just asked me an hour ago."
"Really?"
The man speaks up. "Played a little trick on her."
She laughs. "He wrote a proposal scene and slipped it into a novel I'm working on. I was thinking I was going crazy, because I didn't remember writing it…"
The man grins. "I thought she'd be pissed, actually, it wasn't written all that well." He looks into her eyes. "I heard her start laughing and I thought I'd blown my chances."
"Well, like I'm always telling you, baby, you gotta laugh, right? So anyway, I'm about to get up and tell him it was funny when suddenly he's there with the ring and… " She sniffles, happy, overjoyed, but she wipes her eyes. "Sorry."
"No, it's okay. Congratulations. I'm happy for you two." I mean it, too.
Oh my God, I really do.
She regains her composure. "All right." She taps the box a few more times. "C'mon. How'd you do that?"
I shrug, and give her my easy smile. "Sorry, that's the first rule. Never reveal your secrets." And she laughs, he does too, and I join in.
'Cause hey, you gotta laugh, right?
11:03pm
December 1, 2010
By Vaughn R. Demont
And that's it. See you next year. :)
December 27, 2010
From Twitter 12-27-2010
23:08:16: I miss Daria. I really need to Netflix the series to prep for writing James.
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December 24, 2010
December 22, 2010
From Twitter 12-22-2010
12:00:35: How weird is it that I'm starting to fantasize about cooking breakfast for people? Latent paternal instincts, perhaps?
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