The Unfortunate Story of Roddy Mayhem by Julie Steimle (free e reader .TXT) 📖

viewed the Armani suit as a uniform rather than a status symbol. I couldn’t help it but like him.

“Ok,” he slapped the countertop. “I’ve got extra deodorant in the bathroom, and toothpaste and tooth brush. After you eat, go get a shower. Use the soap and shampoo in there, and get dressed in clean clothes. We have a scheduled plane flight around noon. I’ve got documents to sign and we’ve got to hurry.”

He hopped up from where he was leaning against the counter, marching back to the room to wake Tom.

Once he was gone, I whispered to a near imp, “Steal me some honey.”

It grinned back at me and was gone in a snap.

As I waited, the sounds in the apartment signaled that not only was Tom still in the place, but so was Dan and James. James stumbled into the kitchen in only pajama bottoms and a sword at his hip. He blinked once at me, rubbed his eyes, and then with a shrug went to the fridge. He was ripped. James’s face did not show it as his cheeks were rounded as if chubby, but his chest and abs were muscular, and he had freaky scars on his back that looked like some slasher went to town on it. His imps, however, were tempting him to go for something sweet for breakfast rather than sticking to his strict diet.

The honey popped in the room just then. I caught it before the jar could hit the counter, preventing it from shattering. Then I doused my bagel with the contents.

James just stared. He blinked his eyes for a moment then went back to his search as if weird supernatural things had occurred around him enough that he could just shake it off. Yet as he was searching, he paused and looked back at me. “Uh, Howie is allergic to honey. So you’d better get rid of that before he smells it.”

“Smells it?” I said, sure the wolf guy whom those two called ‘Howie’ just didn’t eat the stuff.

He nodded. “Sure. He’s got a super sensitive nose. You wanna keep honey and garlic away from his nose or he starts—”

“He—CHOO!”

We heard it from the other room.

“Damn.” James closed his eyes.

I closed the lid to the jar and tucked it into the pajama pocket after licking off the sticky residue on it. I wasn’t going to give up my honey that easily. I stole it fair and square.

Dan marched into the room, nose to the air. He saw my sticky bagel and frowned at me. He then went to the fridge. Both he and Dan took out the chicken bucket, setting it on the counter. His eyes on me, he said, “You’d better finish that bagel before Howie gets back in here.”

Realizing he was right, I scarfed it down, taking big bites.

“Ke—CHOO!” Rick’s voice came from farther in. He apparently was making distance between me and him. I guess he figured out I had gotten honey for myself. The guy knew how an imp mind worked. I felt guilty—finally. I just wished he’d shout at me or something. He shouted at Tom for stuff.

Licking the rest of the honey off my fingers, I ventured back into the living room where Tom was standing with a chiding smirk at me. He was messing around with a remote control to something, though I did not know what until music boomed on from the surround-sound loudspeakers.

“Tom!” Rick shouted from a back room. “It is too early for that! The neighbors will complain.”

“Let them complain,” Tom called back to him, manically grinning.

Rick marched in from the back, half dressed in another suit and tie, looking so business-like. He skirted around me with another loud sneeze and grabbed the remote from Tom’s fingers. “No. I have to live with the consequences. This isn’t the same as hijacking a triad apartment in China.”

“Just as nice though,” Tom said, letting the remote slip from his fingers. I had a feeling he could have held onto it if he wanted to. Tom was just messing with him.

But as Rick headed back to his room to finish getting dressed, he shoved me toward the bathroom. “Shower. And wash all that sticky stuff off. I don’t want to be sneezing all day.”

I was amazed as he pushed me straight into the room and shut the door. He was stronger than I had thought. Not unlike James, he had to be ripped. I wondered if he worked out in a gym or something… and could he give me pointers? I wanted to be that ripped.

But anyway, I washed. I also noticed after I came out of the bath that one of the shopping bags had been thrown into the room. Toothpaste and a tooth brush with the deodorant were already on the counter with a comb. I didn’t know if Rick had done it and I had not noticed—though I was sure Tom hadn’t done it. It was too neatly set out.

I obliged them, deodorizing every pit I had, and got dressed. There was even underwear in the bag, though I didn’t remember us buying any.

Once I was out of the bathroom, James hopped in. He looked like he had been waiting his turn. As I stumbled into the living room again, I saw Tom sitting on the floor cross-legged, watching the news on TV, and eating a bowl of the same cereal Rick had been. Rick was no longer there, though. I didn’t see him or anything.

Upon seeing me, Tom waved at me with his spoon and gestured for me to sit down next to him. So I did, with a hop. And I stared at the TV.

Ok… first off, I never really got much chance to ever really watch TV. You need a TV to watch, to start—and laundromats and hair salons that had them never really let you stay to watch more than one episode before they shoved you out for not doing laundry. I didn’t own any real tech connected to the internet—as stealing passwords was not exactly an imp’s forte. And libraries only let you use their computers with a library card—and you needed a confirmed address for that. I had tried stealing someone’s library card, but I didn’t know their system password. Basically, I was media illiterate outside of actual paper newspapers and magazines. I was mesmerized.

“Anything interesting?” Dan asked, walking in from the kitchen, also half dressed with the hugest collection of scars I had ever seen. His lean, fit back looked as if a huge dragon had clawed him. And I could see stab wounds in other places. It was amazing that he was alive. And more, I realized Dervish would never have had a chance against a guy like this.

Tom shook his head. “Nothing for us to worry about. No media attention on the Unseelie Gang.”

“That’s good,” Dan said with a nod. He then sat down on a near couch, one eye on me. “So, excited or nervous?”

I blinked for a second, realizing after a moment he was talking to me. “Uh…”

Dan laughed, looking to Tom. “Wow. I guess I did stereotype you guys. You two are very different.”

Tom laughed, nodding with wink at me. “Yep. Individuality exists.”

Dan laughed more, his cheeks coloring. Then he said to me again, “Roddy—that’s your name, right? Are you nervous? Or are you excited to be leaving here?”

I stared, thinking. Then I said, “Um… nervous. I’ve never…”

“Been anywhere else,” Dan finished, nodding. It was weird. He understood. And he said, “I never left home until I was sixteen.”

“Nuh uh,” Tom interjected, wielding his spoon at Dan. “You ended up in another world when you were—uh what was it? Ten?”

Dan laughed, rising. “No. I was snatched when I was fourteen. But I don’t count that one because I didn’t even know I was leaving when I was taken. And I had forgotten where I was from after a while. As I see it, I didn’t really leave my town. I was still connected to it by that portal.”

All of that went over my head. Snatched? Taken? Another world? Portal? Who was this pyromaniac?

Tom said, “But you left.”

“Moot point.” Dan then looked at me, seeing I was dazed by what I was overhearing. “Don’t worry about it. You are ending up in a safe place where you can change your life for the good. You should take advantage of it.”

I could hear the bathroom door open. Dan quickly rushed to it. I overheard a quick exchange of words between those scarred friends, and then soon Dan was in the bathroom. After a few more minutes, my eyes on the TV watching news about mob rioting—which was labeled protest activism by the newscaster who wanted to spin it in a positive light despite all the property damage and physical violence—James walked back into the room dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt. The shirt had an old scouting symbol it—pre-gender inclusivity. The guy was so politically incorrect, I loved him.

“Anything interesting?” James asked.

“Nope,” Tom said. “Just the same old boring political garbage.”

“Oh.” James then walked back toward the rooms.

I lost track of time from there. My eyes were transfixed on the unrest on the TV screen. And then after the news, some lame soap opera came on and Tom switched channels to find other news.

“What are you looking for? The depressing stuff?” I asked.

Tom busted up, glancing back at me. Rocking a bit with the remote in his hands, he said, “No. I am looking to see if our little fiasco yesterday made it into mainstream media. These days the news is nothing but complaints about the president, some lame stuff about so-called hate speech, and people losing their cool over the dumbest stuff while ignoring stuff that really matters—like the Unseelie Court bringing dangerous drugs into the neighborhoods, increased crime, and…” Tom shook his head with disgust. “The world is becoming no fun. And the imps these days—in cities like these—are just nasty.”

I stared at him. I hadn’t noticed. Imps were imps, I thought. And what was that remark about the Unseelie Court? Who were they? Dervish adored them. He had wanted to be part of them. He had made deals with them. And Dervish had said Tom was an unofficial member of them—though clearly Tom hated the Unseelie Court.

“And New York is no better these days,” Tom muttered, staring at the TV screen.

Rick returned soon after. He was in one of his state-of-the-art suits, looking crisp and respectable. His imps were shouting random things he ought to say to us to startle us, but he merely said, “The plane takes off a noon. Everything is ready on their end. We need to be there at the airport hangar ASAP. Tom, get dressed.”

“Yes, Captain.” Tom popped up and saluted. He hopped over the couch and shoved his bowl of cereal into Rick’s hands.

Rick caught it, holding it at arm’s length, trying to keep the milk from sloshing on his suit cuffs while making a disgusted face at Tom. However, he did not shout. His imps were cursing, though. And Rick carried the bowl back to the kitchen with hardly a word. I was amazed at his self-control. In fact, I have never met a person with so much self-control in my life. People on the beach were so reactionary—hearts on their naked sleeves, and emotions freely expressed to their personal detriment.

I could hear Rick cleaning up in the kitchen. Rising, I peeked over to the doorway and saw him with his suit coat off and his sleeves rolled up. The rich guy was doing the dishes.

Didn’t he have a housekeeper?

I sat back down in front of the TV, mind blown. These were not normal people. I mean I knew they weren’t yesterday when I had fallen in among them, but this… Honestly, most normal people were selfish self-serving creeps—myself included. ‘Me first’ was the mantra of my generation. So much ‘gimmie’, and not a whole lot of ‘giving’. I knew it,