I admit it. I voted for Trump.
In the primary, I voted for Ted Cruz. I voted for Trump because I couldn’t stand Hillary, and I hate the Democratic Party for stiffing Bernie. I consider myself a middle-of-the-road Libertarian. Keep government out of my face until I need it, thank you. Government shouldn’t tell me what marriage really is, what bathroom to use, or whether I can get an abortion. But if I fall on hard times and need a hand up, please help me. Don’t make me depend on you, just help me out a little.
I don’t consider him a racist or a bigot. I consider him undiplomatic, direct, and slightly clueless when it comes to sensitivity. He is way above his head where he is right now. I don’t think he expected to win. Being thrust into this job now, he’s trying to run it like a CEO, but he has Congress–you know, the checks and balances thing?–to stop him.
Congress is a cat warehouse, and nobody can wrangle them. I was thinking that Rand Paul was my guy, but I think now that he’s just an obstructionist–as one pundit said, “Any excuse to say no.”
Trump is putting his nose into things that have nothing to do with his job. Step away from the phone and stop Tweeting! Or have the media consider the Tweets just brain diarrhea. He shouldn’t dictate policy via Tweet.
The way the mainstream media plays it, I’m a dumb rube that belongs in fly-over country and not here in the Northeast. I’m part of his “base.” To be honest, the tipping point for me is his constant comparisons to Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton. I want them both to just go away, and whenever he brings them up, I have to listen to some cut of Obama or Hillary. Just stop. Their voices drive me crazy. (Trump’s voice isn’t that much better, either–he sounds like a hawker who tries to get you to watch the next episode of his show.)
The election is a year old. Get over it.
Do I think my vote was a mistake? Let’s just say I’m on the edge of jumping off from his “base.” If he starts a war, or does something really stupid–not something the MSM says is stupid, but something that even Fox says is stupid–then away I go.
I wonder if Ted Cruz will run again?
Even though Swoop was disappointed that there was no liquor, everyone else seemed to have a good time at Teddy’s 18th birthday party. Mike made sure there was plenty of food at all times, and made doubly sure that the music and the drink was flowing. Scott watched his husband, who seemed to be proud and happy, as if this was his own son’s 18th birthday.
Alex and Rory talked in a corner together. Fold seemed to try and force himself to relax, and all the people around him noticed. They tried to help him, telling him jokes and trying, sometimes succeeding, in distracting Fold from his normal heightened awareness.
Starfall’s boyfriend had come in human garb, but some knew that he was a God of the Underworld. He and Scott talked quietly at times, about what, Mike didn’t know.
It was all fun and games, until Kenny showed up.
He was in demon form, on fire, and drunk to boot. Ping avoided him, and Kenny took that as an affront. “What’s fuckin’ wrong with you?” he said.
“Fucking fire,” said Ping, as he ducked into the hallway leading to the garden.
“What’s wrong with a little fuckin’ fire?” He set off a fireball, right at the satellite TV. Mike put up a shield, so it splattered against it, sending embers of fire all across the carpet and table. “I’m a firecracker!” Kenny yelled.
“That’s enough, Kenny,” said Mike, coming toward him.
“You don’t own me. Nobody owns me. I’m a free man!”
“You’re doing this to celebrate your fuck buddy’s birthday? What about your own husband’s birthday, huh?”
Mike stopped short. His eyes narrowed in fury.
“Swear to fuckin’ God, you’re a fuckin’ asshole.”
That’s when the fight started. Mike’s demon came out from the floor, smelling of brimstone and sulfur, while Kenny yanked his out from the floor as well. The two of them went at it. Scott tried to step in but both of them didn’t see him. Scott finally had to put up a wall between the two fighting demons, making them retreat to stand beside their respective summoners.
“Will you both stop it?” Scott yelled at the two of them.
Kenny pointed to Mike and yelled at Scott. “He treats you like shit, right in front of you!”
“That’s between him and me, Kenny.”
Mike glared at Kenny, his body nearly thrumming with the fury coursing through him. The impish demon at his side grew even larger the angrier Mike was getting.
Kenny turned to his demon and said, “Fuck off,” and the demon disappeared. Then Kenny walked out, teleporting off-base.
In the meantime, the room had been vacated. Everyone escaped, either to the garden or the gym, or even back to Earth. There were scorch marks in the carpet, on the walls, and even on the balcony above them.
Mike hung his head down, the demon grew smaller, and Mike whispered something. His demon disappeared as well.
Scott went over to Mike. “Mike?”
He sighed. “Party’s over.” He couldn’t look at his husband, couldn’t look at anyone, as he turned and headed to the library.
Kelvin heard the doors swish open and hoped it wasn’t someone who wanted to use the big computer. He liked to use it for the multitude of spreadsheets on the multiple big screens.
He tried to make himself look busy, and then someone slapped him hard on the back. “Heidy ho, neighbor!”
Kelvin turned wide-eyed to look at Mike. “M…Mike?”
Mike stood–more like levitated–about a foot off the floor. He grinned from ear to ear. “How’s it going?”
“Good?” Kelvin sensed something odd.
Mike let himself down onto the floor. “So how’s the world looking? The usual hotspots out there? Everyone busy?”
“I’m doing some reports for Fold.”
Mike put an arm around Kelvin’s shoulders, making him involuntarily wince. “Hey, don’t be scared. It’s okay to do reports for him. What does he need them for?”
“Comparison runs, statistical analysis.”
Mike rested his chin on Kelvin’s shoulder while he gave the boy a hug sideways. “Have I told you recently how much I love you, Kelvin?”
Mike laughed, releasing Kelvin. “You’re right, I haven’t. You deserve a raise. In fact, all the field commanders, they all deserve a raise.”
“It’s not necessary–”
“Nonsense. I’ll talk to Scott. You guys do hard work. Do you think we need another layer, say lieutenants? Or will that piss off some people? Hm….” Mike looked out the window. “People who have been here a long time deserve something too. I think some kind of perks…Let me think about it.” He turned to Kelvin. “You’re coming to the party?”
“Teddy’s party. He’s 18. We’re going to have a big thing for him next weekend. You are coming, right?”
“I didn’t know about it.”
“You have to go in the locker room more often,” Mike said, laughing. “There’s plenty of good things to look at there.” He again patted Kelvin hard on the back, “Well, carry on.”
Mike walked around the base to the rear stairs, whistling, “Tiptoe Through the Tulips.”
Kelvin wondered what curse Mike was under this time.
Mrs. Robinson looked at the picture that Persephone King was drawing. “You have four men in your picture.”
Seph–as all the kids called her because Persephone was too difficult for the elementary school kids to pronounce–looked up at Mrs. Robinson. “I have three daddies and Uncle Mike.”
She’d met two of the daddies on Parent-Teacher Night, a big blond named Knight and a very charming white-haired man named Malcolm. One of the daddies in the picture had red hair. Ah, Mrs. Robinson thought, that’s where she got her beautiful long red locks from.
As a teacher in an exclusive private school, Mrs. Catrina Robinson was surprised to see a same-sex couple on Parent-Teacher Night, but seeing three daddies shocked her a little. She knew some of the teachers didn’t like Knight, especially now that he arrived at school on a roaring motorcycle with a sidecar to pick up the kids. The boys were jealous of Roland; the girls thought Seph and Caroline were weird. Caroline was in Mrs. Stevens’ class next door, and carried herself like a princess. Seph was much more humble and quiet, easy to get along with and charming like her father. Her other father.
As Catrina sat in the teachers’ lounge, wondering how a third red-haired man got involved in Seph’s conception while Catrina’s Lean Cuisine cooked in the microwave, Ginny from the main office came in. “Hey, hun,” Ginny said. “I wanted to tell you about the fight in the yard.”
“Yeah. One of the girls pushed Seph.”
“Is she okay?”
“She seems to be. Didn’t cry.”
“I’ll check on her when I go back.”
Catrina did, and Seph said she was okay.
Eventually the girls were lined up to go to the gym. Catrina sometimes helped out with the gym teacher. As she watched the girls file out of the locker room, she noticed that a few were missing. She opened the door to see three girls pounding up the stairs, giggling and laughing.
Seph wasn’t in the group of girls. Catrina went downstairs to the locker room. As she opened the lower door to the locker room, she heard sobbing. She followed the sound of the sobbing, and saw little Seph, sitting on the floor against the wall, her face buried in her drawn-up knees. Surrounding her was clumps of red hair on the floor.
“Oh, no,” said Catrina, and ran over to the little girl. “Seph, Seph, honey.”
Persephone looked up. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and she had a cut on her forehead. It looked like someone took a razor or a pair of scissors–or both–to her hair willy-nilly, with parts of her hair missing, cut short to her scalp, and other parts left long. It was a wreck, a mess, and it pissed Catrina off. “Honey, who did this?”
“Daddy’s gonna be so mad!” she said. “I didn’t do anything!”
“I know, honey,” and she pulled Seph into her arms. “C’mon, let’s go to the nurse and call your dad.”
Knight arrived. Catrina gathered whatever locks were on the floor and put them in a plastic bag, not knowing if he’d want them. Knight stood and listened to Catrina’s statement. She could tell, just by his standing there, rigid and tense, that he was ready to kill someone.
“We’ll find out who did this,” said the principal, “And we’ll punish the ones who did it appropriately.”
Knight said nothing as he put a hand on Seph’s shoulder and guided her out the door. Catrina bit her lip in concern, but the principal turned to her. “Any idea who did this?”
“No,” said Catrina, but she did. One, if not all, of those three girls who had run up the locker room stairs, laughing.
During the rest of the day, Catrina stared at the three girls in turn, giving them the threatening eye. I know you did it. She waited for one of the girls to break down. That afternoon had come and gone, and they hadn’t. Instead, they avoided her when they left the school. Knight returned when school was over and picked up Roland and Caroline, still without saying another word.
The next day, Persephone came in, her hair in a short, spiked cut. She was smiling when she arrived in class, and took her seat. Catrina began class, and when she finally had a free moment, said to Seph, “Honey, can you step outside with me?”
The kids in the class knew that meant something was wrong, and they all watched as Seph got up and stepped out into the hall with the teacher. “Are you okay?”
“Sure,” she said.
“Do you want to tell me who cut your hair?”
She shrugged. “Uncle Mike says that the Fates will take care of things.” Then she went back into the room.
Catrina stood straight, and, shaking her head, went inside.
All three of the girls who had done this to her had shoulder-length hair gathered up in pony tails for gym class. Gym was going to be after lunch. The three girls sat together at a lunch table. Catrina happened to be in the lunch room as a monitor for this period, and she watched Caroline and Seph thread their way through tables to sit with each other and a small group of girls.
Seph threw out her tray after lunch, and Catrina was half-watching her. Then Seph walked over to the three girls who Catrina knew cut her hair. Seph grabbed two pony tails and pulled.
Then threw their hair onto their trays.
Before the other girl could react, Seph grabbed her pony tail and tugged. Her hair came out of her head, like it was a toupe, and Seph threw the hair onto the tray. Blood welled up on each of their heads and then the girls screamed.
Seph walked away, her head held high.
“Fates indeed,” muttered Catrina, as chaos reigned.
(Thanks Scott, for the idea.)
Jack felt exposed. He knew the guys were ready or at least they would be. He hoped.
The book was in a backpack slung over his shoulder. It wasn’t magic on its own, but it held magic symbols. He didn’t know if his new curse would take away the magic. He had gone into the garden, and flowers wilted at his touch. He never went in again.
He had his earbuds with the phone on. “This doesn’t feel good, Mike,” he muttered, hoping Mike was listening.
“They’re in place.”
Jack looked up to see a man with a cane walking toward him. “Here he comes.”
The man was bald, with glowing green eyes. He wore a crimson shirt, black pants, and wingtip shoes. He was a lot smaller than Jack, maybe Scott’s size, with a bit of a paunch, but broad-shouldered. He leaned on his cane, while two men in black walked behind him. As soon as he came to the top of the bridge where Jack stood, the men stayed at the bottom, looking warily from side to side.
“Mr. Cincinnati,” said the man, using the code name Jack had given out online.
“Doctor,” said Jack, using Thornblood’s code name.
“You have the parcel?”
“You have the money?”
The man flipped the cane around and pointed its handle at the wooden bridge at their feet. He made an X with some dark fluid that came out of the cane, and he tapped the middle of the X. A pair of briefcases appeared.
“Open them,” said Jack.
The man raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe that the money is in there?”
“I don’t want to get bitten by some demon that you might have in there.”
The man chuckled. “This is obviously not your first rodeo.” As he bent to open the briefcase, they all heard a series of gunshots from an automatic weapon.
Jack, knowing how to react, dove off the bridge, into the shallow lake. One of the two men at the bottom ledge of the bridge ran up to the old man, who had stood like a deer in headlights at the opening salvo. The man tackled the old man to the ground.
Jack had gotten the book wet, but that was the least of his problems. He saw the robot at a distance, a green man with guns coming out of its shoulder. It was firing at them, not caring if anything or anyone else was firing back. It also didn’t notice the team teleport and appear at the tree in the middle of the park. Teddy already had the weapon in hand, and as soon as the teleport cleared, he started running to the robot, Alex and Andy close behind.
The robot, focused on Thornblood, advanced. Jack struggled to stand, but he had landed badly and twisted his knee. He half-crawled backwards to the shore of the lake, the side away from the advancing team.
Another half of the team appeared at the bottom of the bridge, where the guards had been. Both were now at the top of the bridge, trying to lift the old man who was screaming that he wanted the book. “Leave me here! Get the book!”
Priorities, Jack thought, as he saw Diode in his blue costume come out of the teleport, looking confused. Ollie followed, and tagged Diode. “Those guys, up there!”
Jack heard the gunshots stop. He looked over to see that Alex and Andy stood behind the robot, while Teddy had done what he was required to do—stab the robot. He chose to stab between the neck and shoulder, but the neutronium sword was still stuck in the robot’s neck.
The robot turned to Teddy, and guns appeared out of its wrists. It immediately started shooting with those guns, probably guns without magic depowering bullets, but real, armor-piercing, people-killing bullets. Alex went down. Andy dove at the robot, out of the way of the wrist-weapons firing, and began to saturate it with his ability.
The sword fell out of the robot’s neck, and Andy put his hands in the area. The robot swung around, trying to get at Andy, but he held on like a man on a bucking bronco, hands deep inside the neck of the robot, getting his hands covered with a sticky, black fluid not unlike blood.
The robot reached behind and grabbed at Andy’s hair. Andy still held on, howling. Then the earth rumbled and a huge spike of earth and water came out of the lake, going through the bridge, making one of the men tumble off it into the water near Jack. Jack reached over, grabbing the guy by the nape of his suit collar, and punched the guy out.
“Oh, my God, he’s been shot.” Jack saw Diode bend down to Thornblood, but then get pushed away by him. Thornblood stood up, one hand at his side and his other hand waving his cane around. He was yelling some gibberish that Jack assumed was some sort of spell.
“Somebody stop him!” Jack yelled. Diode touched Thornblood, who then immediately stopped his shouting. He shook, the other man who had jumped on top of him also shook, and then Thornblood collapsed to the bridge’s floor.
Meanwhile the robot had been ridden out, with Andy and now Alex—who seemed to be leaning heavily on one leg—pouring their toxins into the robot. Jack couldn’t see exactly what they were doing, covered with toxins now, and they didn’t look like they were going to stop. Alex was pissed, Jack could see it in the white man’s face.
“You okay, Jack?” asked Ollie, coming over to him.
“Twisted my knee. I’ll be all right.”
“We can teleport you out.”
“I want to see that fucking bot die.”
Ollie looked over. “It looks like there’s nothing left there but a puddle of goo.”
“I’m gonna see for myse