Mystery Lake
[27] Sip
Opening the partially hidden door required a careful turn of a random piece of wall. Eugene explained that the apparatus actually came with the building, which used to belong to an old man and part-time watchmaker with a penchant for creating elaborate mechanisms.
Roxy felt a surge of pride at being able to open the secret latch without struggling. Granted, the old woman could do the same, but small victories for her shrunken muscles. The steps were much more comfortable than the ones leading up to the main store. They were plush, red, and white satin, like padded slices of Santa laid beneath their feet. Not Roxy's favorite mental image, but the only thing she could think of at the moment, with Santa otherwise on her mind. The banister was a polished black wood that looked rather flimsy but held securely.
The group ascended slowly and carefully. Small yellow, old-fashioned lights, like 19th-century London lantern sconces, flanked the stairs on alternating ends and also loomed on the ceiling high above.
A restroom with pink fur splayed all around, especially curled atop the toilet seat, lay directly ahead, with hallways to the left and right that looped and curved, with multiple bedrooms glimpsed through half-open doors. The beds, draped in fluffy black and white covers, suggested something more like a classic bed-and-breakfast or a sliver of a hotel ripped out and pasted into this setting.
The contrast was especially clear as one followed the far left route into a more traditional living area. An oddly placed mudroom contained cubby holes for shoes and jackets, with utilities to the right. A modest but long kitchen was blasted with neon effervescent green, like a thick coating of leftover cake frosting.
A larger living space was visible through the far doorway, with a sliver of office suggested beyond that. A round Formica table with eight chairs comfortably arranged around it awaited them. The space held a faint trace of the sneaking, antiquated aroma of so many artifacts pushed beyond their years with the ambition of preservation. But that trace was overwhelmed by steaming, blasting, fresh billowings, and the sweet, dancing combination of breads, confections, and fruits that dominated the air. No matter what instructions her stomach gave her, there was no way she was going to refuse the fresh foods banging on her nostrils.
They gathered around the table, with Jake taking up his familiar position next to Roxy on the right. Restored Layla and Chiara once again snuggled their seats together, essentially across from Roxy. Ross and Miranda were over to the left, with just the busty brunette as the barrier between Ross' wrath and whatever Roxy had left. The white-haired old lady set an ornate silver contraption on the table that looked like the high-rise version of the jam and condiment...thingie with all the crap stuffed inside. She wanted to call it a cozy, but that was a different tea thing, like a pillow. It fit better. A little contraption that kept all the random junk in a cozy place.
Roxy wasn't much into tea, but neither was Jess. Not the sort to have little girly tea parties. Would Roxy, if born a girl, be into girly tea party crap? It didn't really matter to speculate; whatever Roxy, who might've been born to the Griffins instead of Joel, would be a fundamentally different person for whom comparisons were impossible. Would her brothers have treated her differently? Or would she roll with their stuff and be a total tomboy?
The name thing bugged her way more than she expected. Not knowing the names of things didn't really bother Joel. A word that didn't immediately and naturally come to mind or have connections and links was the kind of word people just threw out to show they knew a whole bunch of words they could throw out, she decided. Words that meant something were worth a heck of a lot more than words that just raised eyebrows because you came up with one in a million out of some book. She really wanted to figure this out, though. Probably those estrogenic brain juices doing their thing.
Caddy! Like the golf guy. Although it was probably spelled differently. She didn't even have to try to siphon some bandwidth from the flaky cell service on her phone to find out. Mercifully, the older woman had not only told them there was Wi-Fi they could connect to, but she knew the details and the password. It was easy enough for anyone's phone to connect.
Roxy didn't want to be rude by doing phone junk while this lady was their host, but this was a rare opportunity to actually do something on the phone. Joel wasn't welded to his phone most days, but the absolute void since they slipped into this strange wilderness with wild strangers made her crave the sensible world that had been torn away from her this morning. Granted, the one thing she wanted the phone to cough up was a confirmation that her caddy comprehension wasn't misplaced. It didn't matter. And yet, it still totally mattered to her.
It was a dizzying balancing act to divide her attention between this idle search task and the spiced cider cup coming her way, plus an assortment of everything else weighing down her plate. The old woman helped her coordinate everything so there would be no accidents. It was a stupid thing to do, but part of her wanted to try it.
Multitasking. Jess was so much better at it than Joel. Not that he couldn't do it. He routinely coordinated several tasks around the dorm kitchen, in his room, and then with roommates at the same time. But that felt like a rough and awkward switch between different modes, like selecting different power levels on a switch. Didn't girls do the same thing? Jess alluded to the fact that there was a disparity between that style and what she maintained. Again, it really didn't matter. Not like Roxy's brain was going to suddenly rewire. Or so she would have thought a few hours ago, but the feelings soon after, the emotions gushing forth, and the intimate changes she was working through all suggested a biochemical and neurochemical point of no return in the midst of the magic. All those smart words.
She might never be able to go back to being a guy. The thought felt like an iron sentiment slamming into her soul. She could live as Roxy. Agent dude was going to cover the paperwork. She still had Jake with her, people back at college could be resolved, and family wasn't a big deal anymore. Her life was hers to live as she chose. Only she didn't choose the life of Roxy; Ross did. She was fundamentally different, a totally different person, and yet she hadn't changed. Jess would probably have a lot to say about that if she found the will to lay everything out like exposed organs. They didn't change; their love for each other didn't change. At least, that was a really nice sentiment to hold on to.
Of course, everything was different. Her brain was thinking differently, her body was pulsing with a fundamentally different apparatus, and Jake was dealing with something similar. She could tell.
Those were a whole lot of incoherently deep and flailing thoughts for a moment of pushing herself to coordinate a snack, softly sipping a hot spiced apple drink, and trying to articulate thoughts she scarcely understood.
When her web searches finally found something, even if it wasn't quite what she was looking for, a shiver passed through her body. Hollowware. Basically, the kind of items that the old woman laid out. The name didn't matter, but it felt like she was haunted by a sliver of that place she was trying so hard to forget. She sought a window and a trickle of light dripping through to calm her racing heart.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
It was strange that the remnants of Molly's diner and the terrible things she fought with horny talk left a more lingering impression than the bastard who tried to force himself on her. She flinched from Jake, but that was right afterward. She was already doing better now.
That bastard tried to have his way with her. Every remaining fiber of his masculine being should've been angry and disturbed beyond belief that the piece of shit tried to violate not only her space but the space of a poor girl who happened to be him as well. A sensitive spot on her forehead throbbed, as if the eye twitch had returned and decided to migrate north to a friendlier climate.
Jake's one hand cradled her shoulder, and his other hand rested on her knee as she tried to pretend that nothing was bothering her. The old woman noticed their quiet and reflective nature and smiled with a clear twinkle in her eye. "Please enjoy everything. I can top you off if you need it, and if you want anything else, within reason, I can certainly whip it up. I'll be making quite a bit of meatloaf this evening, and I'll be adding a little bit more to make sure all y'all are well fed. Any allergies I should know about?"
Half of them chimed in about Chiara's pepper sensitivity before Chiara could even begin the first word of an answer. The old woman took down a note and then asked if there was anything in particular they'd like her to leave off as she worked her way through the recipe. Miranda was more concerned about them intruding on their meal.
The old woman snorted in amusement. "I make more than enough. Don't you worry. We always eat fine, and so will you. If a meatloaf has meat, Euy will eat it. I just enjoy taking care of guests. I have had quite a few careers in my earlier days, from head chef to cruise director to off-Broadway producer to head hostess of a tea house in Kyoto, just to name a few of my favorites. My name is Maggie Triton, and I'm honored to have you all as my guests. I would love to know all about you and your stories if you'd be willing to share them."
Roxy figured she'd have to be the one to jump in and really start the conversation properly once she took another sip from her cup. But Chiara actually sat up, folded her hands gently, and began.
"Thank you...Mrs?"
"Simply Miss nowadays. Although I've been a Mrs. a few times. I don't mind either."
Chiara nodded briefly, as if she were suffering a shiver. "Understood… My name... I am... I was… I mean..." She swallowed what was in her throat and then stuffed a few small bits of cookie in there before trying to gather her resolve again. Layla gently bonked her shoulder in support.
Miss Triton urged her to go with whatever she felt most comfortable with. Ross raised a skeptical eyebrow but said nothing. It took several breaths and a decent amount of practice before Chiara managed to come out with it: "My name is Chiara Watson now... Although I'm still getting used to it because my name used to be Barry," Chiara maintained the ability to be conscious and look Miss Triton in the eye.
The old woman met this admission with refreshing calm. She noted it was a beautiful name; they were both beautiful names. Her eyes focused on Chiara's face, and she gave a careful squint of scrutiny. Before Chiara could get nervous or scared, she explained that she was simply trying to intuit what Barry was like. That still made poor Chiara quite stressed. She looked like she both wanted the old lady to hit it on the head, but she also seemed curious about stumping her.
It didn't take too long before her assessment emerged. "Barry. Modest height. Anxious disposition. Caring to a fault about everyone else first. You're doing better, and I know you'll get better yet."
Chiara reeled at that, but Roxy wondered if it was something like a cold reading done by supposed psychics. None of those reads were too far afield from the girl's current appearance and disposition.
The next of their number to volunteer for this reading was Jake, who kept it similar to Chiara's rough template, giving her original name. After looking at Jake from several different angles, the old woman relayed, "Jess. Solid, dependable, and with an adventurous streak. You used to have rather long hair. Psychology major. I forgot to say, but I think computer science for Barry. Sorry if that sounds presumptuous. How did I do?"
Jake nodded and gave an exuberant thumbs-up of approval as he nodded his head. The old woman turned to look in Ross' direction next, but Ross promptly raised his hand and stated clearly, "My name is Ross Hanover, and that's all I wish to reveal and have you talk about, if you please."
The old woman accepted this refusal gracefully and moved on to the next. After Layla played along with her names, she gave a few uncertain moments concerning the girl, taking longer with her than anyone else and going through various impressions before remarking, "Layla. Clever, energetic, and quite hungry...ha."
That last one certainly characterized her breakfast ambitions, but the old woman's hesitation in listing those qualities certainly made Roxy frown and wonder what was going on. They'd all been around a lot of crazy creatures and entities lately. Her first thought was to wonder if maybe something unseen was clinging to Layla and throwing off her impression.
If so, she was totally gonna kick its ass harder than that fucking trucker. The old woman cleared her mind and reestablished her focus before confidently reiterating the trio of terms to Layla's delight and the relief of the others.
Miranda also presented some difficulty before she relayed, "Duncan. Reserved, observant, and especially skeptical… But also like a joyful kindling seeking the strength of a fire. I see a great passion in you that has rested before and is now ignited."
That strikingly specific assessment earned a cheeky but thoughtful grin from Miranda as she scrutinized the old woman back just as much as she scrutinized her, with a pleasant smile.
Roxy wound up the final one. She strongly suspected that giving up Joel would be enough for the old woman to work her way to a tough guy with a confident tan. Joel. Jovial, down to earth, and protective. Something like that.
Once again, the initial look acquired several head turns, along with her mouth covered with her hand, before she finally settled on her answer.
"Joel. Emotional, romantic, and powerful."
What…? Joel did have strength, of course, but he was so far from emotional and romantic. The lady clearly had mixed signals going on or whatever, trying to take what she was saying, apply it to the old name, and make guesses. A little frustrating, but she seemed harmless and quite cheerful and hospitable. In response, Roxy gave a guarded smile but not a decisive nod.
It wasn't long before Eugene made his way upstairs with several specific books in his arms and a serious expression on his face as he relayed, "I found details about that lake that I had missed before..."