Mother Alternate

Ellay Saga Chapter 7: Four Blind Mice

“I don’t like it here…I want to leave.”

Joshua sat staring at his hands and feeling his eyes water. Four days had passed since the accident and he was showing signs of enormous recovery, but he still wouldn’t be out of the hospital for another week. His anxiety was beginning to show and he had become irritable, much to the dismay of the nurses who took care of him. At the moment he was voicing his complaints to Vee, who had taken some time from her afternoon to visit the boy.

“Cheer up, kid,” she said as she laid a hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “just a few more days and then you can leave. No worries, okay?” she tried to force a smile out of him, but with no success. Joshua shook his head somberly. “There are no plants here…” he whined quietly.

Vee moved her hand from Joshua’s shoulder to his cheek and held his head in her hand. “Tell you what, kiddo,” she began cheerily. “I bring you some plants and flowers…and you stop grouching around, deal?” she smiled to emphasize her words. Joshua looked up to her, and his eyes seemed to dry somewhat…he was finally feeling some sort of comfort. “You…you promise?” he asked meekly. Vee nodded and stood. “Absolutely!”

Joshua looked around him and sighed. “How…how are the others?” he asked softly. “How’s Kir?”

Vee shrugged emphatically and stood up. “Peel’s still bed-ridden, and Julian…well, I guess you know him better than I do.”

***

Julian let his shoulders droop as he watched Mrs. Vasconceros grab another shirt from the rack and drape it on him. Vee’s mother had decided that it was about time to provide him and his friends with new clothing, seeing as how their normal clothing was in tatters. Julian had, of course, refused to let her go through all that trouble, but he soon found that there was simply no discussing with Mrs. Vasconceros once her mind was made up.

“I really like this blue one, Julian dear,” sang Mrs. Vasconceros while dancing over to another rack and plucking some pants from there. “it would go really well with these pants, don’t you think?”

“I…guess so.” Julian admitted half-heartedly. He looked around distractedly while more and more articles of clothing were placed before and on him, Mrs. Vasconceros laughing giddily all the while. Just agree with what she says, Julian kept telling himself. Then we can get out of here as quickly as possible…

“Oh, I know! We can get you some new shoes!”

Or not.

***

Night eventually came, blanketing everything in darkness, exalting the shadows, welcoming her worshippers.

Ellay’s Live Show opened its doors, a cavalcade of neon flashed into existence and beckoned the dozens of eager show-goers who flocked to it. Every type of person had wandered into her confines: rich, poor, elegant, shabby, young, and old. And tonight, it was to welcome two very special visitors…a poor old musician and his young female companion.

They took their seats up front and made themselves comfortable, soaking in the atmosphere, almost as if they thrived from it. The elder of the two ordered for himself a strong alcoholic cocktail, while the girl was satisfied to sit back and relax. They didn’t speak to each other; it wasn’t really necessary, there were no words to say.

Eventually the show began, and a buxom African-American woman marched onto the stage, her black gown flowing liquidly behind her, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor. The entire crowd hushed itself as the singer took her place and cleared her throat, reaching over to a glass of water placed on a small table behind her. Then she began to sing.

The girl began to sway contentedly, her eyes half-closed as she let the music carry her away to worlds unseen, as the woman on stage weaved her voice into delicious ribbons of music. The old man rubbed his finger around the top of his glass, his head lowered in concentration.

The singer finished her song and dived into another, slower composition. The girl stopped swaying and laid her head on her hand. She sighed, satisfied. Eventually she spoke, very quietly and absently:

“Volt Punker very much liked this song.” She whispered. Her companion chuckled and took a sip of his cocktail. “Ironic, is it not?” he answered. “Despite his shortcomings, he had excellent taste in music. What a shame.”

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted as one of the spectators beside them stood and began to cheer vulgarly. “Yeah, baby! Go! You fine thing! Yeah!” he waved his arm around and smirked malignantly, trying to get the singer’s attention. The singer paid no mind—she was used to this and had learned to ignore it. Earth Bluesman, however, had not.

He stood abruptly, cocktail in hand, and strode over to the vulgar brute. Quick as a flash he threw the contents of his glass at the stranger, causing a shocked gasp from the latter. “Do not interrupt.” He commanded. “Be quiet.”

The man rushed forward and grabbed Bluesman’s collar aggressively. “Hey, buddy, just what are you thinking?!” he barked. He tried to push Bluesman aside, but a quick bonk to his head, courtesy of Bluesman’s cane, stopped him. The man reeled, the singer stopped her performance, all eyes settled on the fighting pair.

Bluesman adjusted his hat and raised his cane, brandishing it like a sword. “It is time for you to leave.” He decreed menacingly. “Now get out of here.” The man chortled. “In your dreams, gramps!” he retorted, then lunged at Bluesman, who nimbly stepped aside and brought down his cane on the aggressor’s back. Unfazed, the man bolted up and rushed forward again. Instead of dodging, however, Bluesman struck the floor with the tip of his cane, hard.

Two steps before he had attained his target he stopped cold in his tracks. His arms were still raised and he was leaning forward, resembling a photograph. His eyes became wide with terror and confusion, and they darted over to Bluesman. He, in turn, was holding his hand outstretched and striking the floor repeatedly with his cane. “You will not move.” He began repeating. “You will not move…”

The man, frightened out of his wits, struggled against the invisible force that was holding him, with no success. Bluesman didn’t move, he simply tapped the floor with his cane. Eventually the old musician’s female companion sneaked up behind the frozen form of Bluesman’s opponent, and delivered a quick chop to his neck. Bluesman then released his hold and the figure tumbled to the floor, unconscious.

The crowd around them parted and two men dressed in uniform walked in, a big ‘security’ sign on their backs. The bigger, burlier of the two stepped forward and cracked his knuckles. “All right, you’ve had your fun.” He said his voice deep and rumbling. “I think it’s time for you to come with us.”

The smaller of the two stepped forward. “Yeah, so don’t put up no trouble, or me an’ my pal Bear here is gonna hafta mess youse up, capisce?”

Bluesman opened his mouth to respond, but was quickly silenced with a wave of his companion’s hand. The girl stepped forward and cricked her neck to either side. “Genau…if it is a fight you want…then I will be glad to give it to you.” She put her left fist next to her hip, and her other fist in front of her, her arm pointing down. Wordlessly, the two security guards charged, emanating battle cries. The bigger one, Bear, threw a punch at her head, but she dodged gracefully and grabbed Bear’s arm, hurling him aside. The smaller of the two, Possum, tried to attack her while her back was turned, but she saw it coming and swept her foot under his feet, tripping him and flipping him over. With her free hand she punched him while still in the air, making him crash into Bear.

Bear and Possum stood and rushed her again, murder in their eyes. The girl rushed forward as well, but at the last second she did a cartwheel somersault between them, and when she landed she thrust her elbows back, hitting them both in the back, sending the two guards sprawling.

“Hey Possum! Get on the other side of her! We’ll surround her!” Bear called out, and immediately Possum circled around, so that the girl appeared trapped. Possum charged the girl and managed to grab her from behind in an arm lock. Bear charged, ready to dispatch the girl. She had other plans, however, and quickly flipped out of Possum’s hold and into the air, landing on his shoulders. With a powerful heave she jumped off and let Possum careen into his partner. While they were on the floor she ran up to them and, in a feat of superhuman strength, picked them both up and smashed them into each other.

Bear and Possum tumbled to the floor like rag dolls, dazed and in pain. While on the floor Possum managed to prop himself up and reach out to the girl. “Who…is dis chic?” he croaked weakly. The girl stooped down and grabbed Possum’s face in her hand, bringing her face close to his. “My name…” she began, “is Proghauser. Dual Proghauser. You would do well to remember that if we meet again.”

Dual Proghauser felt Bluesman’s hand on her shoulder. “That’s enough.” He said soothingly. “Let’s go.”

Proghauser let go of Possum and stood. “Yes…let’s.” she replied. They headed for the door, leaving the grim spectacle behind them for the onlookers to observe.

***

“You really like it? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

Peel was holding up the new dress that Julian had helped pick out for her that afternoon. As she was doing so Julian was sitting on his cot and looking at Peel. “Sure. I think you like blue, right?

“Are you kidding? It’s my favorite color!” Peel examined every inch of her new dress, a look of childish wonder on her face. “Wouldn’t be able to wear it in battle, though...it would get ruined!”

Julian raised an eyebrow. “In…battle? What are you talking about?” he asked quizzically. Peel turned away and looked at her dress again. After a moment’s pause she spoke. “So what did you get?” she asked. Julian, in response, stood and spread his arms out, so as to show his new clothing: a white, long-sleeved shirt, a black vest, and blue pants. He spun around and allowed Peel to watch him. “Nice. I like it.” She then said.

The sound of the door opening deterred Julian from his conversation. “That must be Vee.” He stated. “I’ll…go ask her how Joshua’s doing.” Very quickly he turned and left the room. As soon as he left Peel giggled. He was embarrassed…she could tell. She set her dress aside and lay back, closing her eyes.

You don’t want me to fight…she thought. You hope that I’ll never take that dress off…

Then she fell asleep.