The evening passed slowly after that, the weight of all that she’d learned sinking into her mind. Bentley just watched her, as she made a sandwich. Baloney and colby jack – not her favorite, but it was what was in the fridge. She plopped her butt on the couch, sat Indian-style with her feet tucked neatly underneath herself, and then realized she’d forgotten to turn on the TV.

“Um, Bentley,” she said, with her mouth full. “Can you turn that on?” Why hadn’t Mom sprung for one of the models with a remote control?

He just looked at her.

“Bentley,” she whined.

“How do you know you can rely on me?”

An extremely good question, actually. “I hope you’re getting to like the taste of wall.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “All right. It’s relevant to my mission, or whatever. The kind of girl I want to be. Turn on the TV and let’s see what good old Jules has to say about Apollo 4.”

Bentley sighed. “Very well. And no, I do not enjoy being used as your personal stress ball.”

“Good.” The TV came on with a brief click, and a slight electric hum. Her mother swore she couldn’t hear that, but Charlie thought it was just part of the signal. Like a little whine, a mosquito buzz inside her ears. She could hear it from the other room.

Rocky and Bullwinkle were up to their usual tricks. Charlie caught herself smiling, before Bentley cleared his throat lightly. “Will this suffice, madam?”

She shook her head. “No, smartypants,” she said with her mouth full. “The news. Apollo 4. Please and thank you.”

“Sarcastic manners are not manners. I believe your mother says that.”

Charlie blinked. “How would you know?”

“I know everything.” Bentley covered his mouth with a paw.

Well, that certainly wasn’t true. She allowed him his little fantasy, though, smiling a bit as he finally got the TV tuned to something vaguely news-related. And just in time, too, because it was six o’clock. Mom wasn’t home yet, which was only a little worrying – but Walter Cronkite fixed everything.

“”And bringing you our top story this evening,” he said. “The Apollo astronauts aboard Apollo 4 have been, over the past day and a half, been presented with an almost insurmountable challenge, and the loss of their lunar landing has only added to that. During our most recent installment, CBS Evening News brought you the information that the landing had been scrubbed after an incident. The incident was clarified as an explosion, and we now bring you the news that all astronauts are alive and well, and that NASA has developed a method to use the lunar module Eagle as a lifeboat of sorts, which will allow the return of Armstrong, Muldoon and Lovell safely to Earth. If all goes well, their splashdown will occur in just under four days, after a short swing around the Moon.”

Charlie swallowed. That was going to be a cramped ride. What about the next moon landing mission? Had it been canceled? Were the Russians going to win the race after all?

“NASA flight director Gerry Griffin was quoted as saying that this is a greater test than even the landing, of the Apollo spacecraft and the capability of the astronauts. He said that, and here’s a direct quote: ‘we’ll return them safely to Earth. Once we’ve done that the hard way, a landing will be much easier.’”

Charlie grinned, let herself breathe again, and took another bite of sandwich. If Mom wasn’t coming home, she really had to get something better than baloney. Maybe a good pastrami? Hmmm.

Cronkite continued. “The next mission, Apollo 5, was previously scheduled to launch in July of 1969. The prime crew for this mission is, as announced last year, Pete Conrad, Buzz Aldrin and Richard Gordon. Conrad and Aldrin are expected to walk on the Moon at the Ocean of Storms. NASA has not commented with any changes to this schedule at the present time. Our next story, in Vietnam –”

Charlie motioned to Bentley to turn it off, but he shook his head. “After the disappointment of the Tet Offensive last year, US morale has been low. But recent successes signal better days ahead. Little is known about the exact causes, and our correspondents are working to determine what is declassified and can be shared with the public at this time, but the United States Army’s recent press briefing indicates a shift in momentum and casualties, with several North Vietnamese-aligned brigades defecting in terror after encountering the Americans in combat. We will do everything in our power to bring you more information,” Cronkite said. His eyes were more wrinkled than usual, she thought. His gaze heavy. “For now, the tide is turning. I’m Walter Cronkite, and we’ll be back.”

The station went to commercial, and Charlie sighed. “Do you like war or something?” She rolled her eyes.

“No comment,” her teddy bear said. “But that seems unusual, don’t you think?”

She nodded. “A little. You think it’s someone’s wish?”

“I think it’s something altogether different,” Bentley said. He put a hand to his ear, then reached up and turned the TV off.

“What?” Charlie sat up, looking at him, straining her ears. “I don’t hear anything?”

There was dead silence. Not even the electronic buzz of the TV in her ears, anymore. Her own breath was the only sound that broke the stillness.

“That,” Bentley said, pointing. She followed his gaze to the telephone, just as it started to ring.

She dived for it. What the hell was going on? How had Bentley known the phone was about to ring? She picked it up, and put it to her ear.

“Aw, hell,” a voice said. “I’m gonna look stupid if I got the wrong nu–”

Charlie’s eyes widened, and she was glad her mouth was empty. Choking in shock didn’t seem like a fun evening. “Robin?”

“Heyyy! Charlie-girl. I have something I need your help with.”

Charlie shook her head, mouthing profanities at Bentley. “No, hold on, how did you get this number?”

There was a pause. “The phone book?”

“My local phone book,” Charlie said skeptically. “You don’t even know where I live.”

“Not that one,” Robin said. “The – hold on. Scooter, what?”

Charlie blinked and mouthed more obscenity at Bentley. What the –

“Charlie, where do you go to school?”

“At a regular school like everyone else? Robin, why are you weird?”

“Charlie, you don’t know how I got your number and it seems I can’t say. You’re weird.”

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Charlie shrugged. “Robin, get to the point.”

“Yeah.” Robin sucked air in through her teeth, a profoundly annoying sound that made Charlie wince. “Got a shortwave radio?”

“Of course I do.” Charlie rolled her eyes. “I can’t really go get it.”

Bentley, however, had already climbed the family stereo and posed atop it like it was Everest. He waved, then leaned down and turned on the Philiips shortwave receiver.

“Never mind, teddy bears are useful.”

“Right?! I take it you’re getting somewhere with him, then?”

“No.” Charlie scoffed. “I throw him at things. A lot. Robin, what in the world is happening to me?”

“Wish I knew, hon. Same shit as me when I started, probably.”

“No,” Charlie said through clenched teeth. “A person I dreamed about is calling my house. You say you can’t tell me how you got my number. I have a talking teddy bear, now. You have a velociraptor, or some garbage like that. It’s asinine, it’s nonsensical, and this is before we even get to the wishes. I’m so mad.”

“Yeah, same shit as me when I started.” Robin’s grin was audible. “It's great, right?”

“No. It is not great. But I don’t have a little brother to get up and change channels for me, so Bentley has been putting in the work on that front, which I guess is small consolation.” Charlie stuck her tongue out at Bentley, looping the phone cord in her hand.

“I do,” Robin was saying. “Scooter refuses. She’s a jerk.”

“I see. Anyway. Radio.” Why couldn’t anyone be normal? Least of all this Robin person. It would be nice, though, if she had a friend. She would have to try not to, you know, be herself and tell Robin what a goon she was being. That always went well.

“Yeah. So. There’s something weird on 7415 khz. And I am not talking about the regularly scheduled Radio Carcosa broadcast.”

Charlie choked on empty air. It was as fun as she’d imagined. “Carcosa?! Radio Carcosa.”

“Yeah. It’s a real place, but also it isn’t. It’s complicated. Listen, I don’t want this signal to get away. Quick.”

“Bentley,” Charlie called out, sitting up straight. “7415.”

“Got it,” he growled cheerfully. He reached down, and, using both paws and some elbow grease, bent the radio dial around to the right station, or generally so. Words, another news announcer in a strange hybrid of something like Russian mixed with something like Arabic, came pouring out of the speakers. The announcer was speaking quickly. She thought she caught the syllable “Hastur”, and she felt her ears warm at it.

“Robin, what the fuck?”

“Yeah. I told you. Real, but not everyone believes in it. Listen, I’ll explain. Do you have a BFO switch on there?”

“For Morse Code?” If Robin knew what a beat frequency oscillator was, they might be good friends after all. “You bet.”

“Switch it on, and give the dial a slight twist.”

“Bentley,” Charlie said. “Hear that?”

“I’m not omniscient,” he said with slight annoyance.

“BFO, slight twist on the tuning dial.”

“That makes no sense.” Bentley stared at her.

“Bentley you are a talking teddy bear. Do not even start with me.”

“Yes ma’am.” Was he laughing?! But, helpfully, he did as she had asked.

“Okay, now what?” The question answered itself, as the announcer’s voice faded out. There was, now, the audible hum of the BFO and something like music, slowly growing clearer. It was distorted, as everything else would be, until someone put the switch back. But the melody was unmistakable. Charlie found herself tapping a foot to “She Loves You” by the Beatles, only to shake her head and stare when John Lennon began to sing in German. “This is a thing?”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “That’s not even the weirdest part. Hold on.”

She did, and the song quickly faded out. A female voice in a drugged-out sounding monotone began to speak aloud, clearly and distinctly. “Gold July Boojum, standard deviation. Gold July Boojum. Water tablet. The call of the 30th aethyr. Mike. Golf. Sierra. Oscar. Golf. Gold July Boojum, Golf Juliet Bravo, standard deviation, Sierra Delta. Whiskey Tango, Tango Echo X-Ray. Mike, Golf, Sierra, Oscar, Golf. End plaintext portion. Begin encrypted portion.”

What came next was silence, perhaps thirty seconds or more. Then an absolutely calamitous howl clawed its way out of the speakers, still distorted by the BFO, and whirled around the room before crashing against Charlie’s ears. It was loud, and it hurt. The room felt cold.

“Charlie, turn it the fuck off! Quick!” Robin’s voice grounded her, as she became dizzier and dizzier.

Bentley dove, hanging onto the off switch as he fell. The radio went silent, and he plopped to the ground, unhurt as usual. “Got it,” he grunted. “What the hell?”

“Does he cuss?” Robin was still in high spirits, damn her.

“Yes,” Charlie said. “Robin, what in the world was that?”

“Dunno.” Robin chuckled. “But I mean to find out. Wanna help?”

Charlie didn’t actually have to think. “Of course,” she said.

“Great! We’re gonna go to Carcosa, then.”

“What?” No, no, she had not bargained for this. “Robin, you need to explain everything. Quickly.”

“Yeah. I know! Listen, I promise it will all make sense. I’m not explaining until we’re in person. Too important.”

Charlie nodded. “What do I do, get on a bus and come find you?”

“Ummmm…ideally without your parents finding out?”

“Just my mom.”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry?”

Charlie shook her head. She was so tired of this question. “Mom never talks about him.”

“Eesh.”

“Never mind.” Charlie sounded a little more venomous than she’d meant to. “Sorry, just...I get tired of explaining.” Bentley was smirking at her.

“Yeah, listen. I’d suggest a portal, but I don’t think you’re licensed.”

“Licensed?!”

“Yeah, see? What is your bear doing over there? Did you say his name was Bentley?”

“I did, I guess. Talking to him while I was on the phone.”

“Yeah. So listen, I looked it up. Next Greyhound to Houston leaves in an hour.”

Charlie blanched slightly. “You know. Where I live.”

“I will explain. If Bentley won’t, I will. Someone’s gotta break a few rules.”

She grinned. “Usually that’s my job.”

“Good to hear,” Robin said. “Pack light. I saw you knew how to use a pistol?”

“I will pack,” Charlie said, already going over her list and how much trouble she was likely to be in when she got back.

“I would say this is ill-advised, but it seems exciting,” Bentley said.

There was cussing in a suspiciously reptilian voice, just over Robin’s shoulder. Charlie grinned.

“See you soon. Scooter is giving me fits now, gotta go, bye –” Robin hung up.

Charlie sighed. “Bentley, this is nuts.”

“Do you want to do it? You don’t actually have to, you know.”

She stood up and rolled her shoulders. “I do! I want to. This is gonna be real fun, I hope.” She grabbed pen and paper, and scribbled a note before she headed upstairs to pack.

Mom:

Since we disappear without leaving notes for each other now –

Charlie

PS: I’m safe and will be back soon.