11

Of Capes and Creeps

"In two weeks?"

"That's what I heard Grandmother say," Lottica huffed, still winded from running up the steps to their room.

Nick struck the patient-older-bother pose: one hand on her shoulder, a neutral smile on his face, his eyes, squinted to soften their natural intensity, focused just above her own. “Lottie, what exactly happened?”

She knew it was hard for her brother to be, well, brotherly, so she swallowed her exasperation and explained what had happened moments ago. “I went outside to collect some leaves with fall color because we have a harvest festival thing at school. More busywork in my opinion…“

“Lottica,” interrupted Nick, “stick to what happened.”

Shaking his hand off her shoulder, Lottica retorted, “Someday, when writing my memoirs, I’ll mention how you supported my early efforts to become a great storyteller.”

“Sorry. Just get on with it.”

“Okay. So, I’m picking up leaves, and I end up underneath the kitchen window. You know the one that Grandmother always keeps open during the day no matter how cold it is. Well, the phone rang and she answered. I hear her saying things like ‘yes’ and ‘please repeat.’ Then she said, ‘Two weeks. Go back Lebreima. All of us.’ That’s what I heard.”

Nick sat on the corner of the desk. "When do you suppose they were planning to tell us? The night before, or the morning of?” He thought for a moment. "Today's the 18th. That means we'll be leaving the day after Halloween. All Souls’ Day."

"Talk about a trick and no treat," Lottica responded gloomily.

Nick stared out the window at the trees, watching the wind slowly strip them of their foliage. He, too, felt as if he and his sister were being stripped of something. Their past.

He turned back to Lottica with a growing sense of resolution. “Well, we’ve gotta do something. We've got to confront them. Find out what's going on. We've got some rights. I can call Jake’s parents or Child Protective Services or 911 or…"

"Or Strong Bad?" Lottica quipped.

Nick glared at his sister for a moment, then smiled, understanding her instinct to lighten the mood. Keep things from getting too intense. “Yeah. Strong Bad would definitely help. Especially if he sent Trogdor, The Burninator, to rescue us.”

They shared a laugh and then Nick continued, “While we’re waiting for Strong Bad’s dragon to show up, I think we have to figure a few things out. And fast.”

"For instance?" Lottica asked.

"What the gemstone, the Kareima, is. Why Grandfather and Grandmother really want to take us to Lebreima. Where we should go for help. And," his eyes wandering from hers uncertainly, “who the man in the cape is?"

Looking at her brother like he’d just sprouted three more heads, Lottica gaped. "What man in a cape?" Her eyes darting about the room, as if expecting Superman or Batman to materialize.

"Since we found the Kareima, I've seen an older man in a long, black cape, watching my school bus in the morning,” Nick explained. “Twice. The first time he was sitting at a window in a coffee shop my bus passes on the way to the high school. I wouldn't have noticed him except that I happened to be sitting near the rear of the bus and, as soon as my bus stopped, he stood up and moved away from the window."

"So?"

"So," Nick continued, "the second time, the exact same thing happened. As soon as my bus stopped, he got up as if he didn't want to be seen."

"That’s a good story to creep me out, but it could just be that this guy knows he needs to go somewhere when he sees the school bus. The bus might be his reminder."

"I understand that, Lottica, but two things make me suspicious. First, he reminds me of Grandfather. Though taller. He dresses like him, too: a dress shirt and vest. Dark colors, very formal. And the cape. I mean, who wears a cape? He just looked old country, very old country.

"The second thing, and this really freaked me, was this thick gold chain around his neck. From it, hung a bright, red gemstone. It made me think of the Kareima. It wasn't as large and didn’t have the same shape, but there was that strangeness about it. You know...like...like…" Nick left his thought unfinished, avoiding eye contact, concerned that his sister might think he was losing touch with reality.

Lottica remained quiet for a few moments. "I don't know, Nick. I'm trying to keep things sensible. I realize I'm usually the one with the over-active imagination, reading all those crazy dead-parent stories, trying to write The Weirdest Witch. But, this isn’t a story. I know the Kareima is surprising, but if we start getting paranoid of an old guy in a cape with strange bling, we might as well start buying silver bullets, stocking up on garlic and sharpening stakes."

Nick sighed. "Now you see why I didn’t want to mention it, Lottie. Remember, I'm the science guy. The rational one. I've never been big in the imagination department. That’s your gig. I'm just sharing a suspicious feeling I had about this guy, so keep an extra eye out for any creepy, caped individuals."

“Fair enough,” Lottica agreed. "But, what are we going to do about your other questions? We haven't found any more information about the Kareima, so, what are our options? Do we try to find someone who can help us stay here in America, or confront Grandfather and Grandmother about their plans to take us to Lebreima?"

“Well, do you really want to call CPS and end up in a foster home?" asked Nick.

“To me, that’s our nuclear option. So let’s try direct diplomacy and talk directly with the grandparents. Let them know that we know and try to work this out,” Lottica suggested.

“Sounds good, I’ll follow your lead,” he said and stepped towards the door.

“Actually, Nick, since we’re dealing with Grandfather and Grandmother who respect that old elder-knows-best tradition, I think you need to take point. I'll act as your younger, submissive wingwoman.”

"You are too clever by a mile, Lottie," Nick conceded as he opened the door and gave his sister a gentle push through it.