A Spread Of Jacks And Queens - Chapter 1

The Traveller tried to smile as he followed Pratisha out of the theatre onto the lively avenue known to New Yorkers, and the theatrical world, as Broadway, but he knew what was coming - he'd been surprised that his witch companion had sat through the whole show after he first saw that stormy expression of barely contained outrage break out across her face. A musical about witches - it had seemed, and in the end proved to be, just too good to be true.

It was rare in the extreme for The Traveller to get it wrong, but that night, he'd stumbled into just such a rarity, and it was going to take a similarly Herculean effort to put things right. His first try was, however, not exactly legendary: "Do you honestly think I chose this show just to annoy you?"

Pratisha came to a stop on the sidewalk, gazing up at the night sky. "No", she sighed. "I should've know better..."

She glanced back at the enormous sign over the theatre entrance. "'Wicked' - all the clues were right there."

"Well, it wasn't all bad", volunteered The Traveller.

The tall, dark witch redirected her gaze at her companion. "The same old thing", she muttered, "'Ooooh, look at the evil witch, with the ugly nose and the green skin! What a monster!' Look, right there - up there for all to see in black and white - and green!"

The Traveller moved up beside her quickly, took her arm, and started steering her away from the theatre before anyone started staring. They crossed one of the streets that the majestic avenue cut across, and the play-house, and the other members of the audience filing out into the night, were soon out of sight behind them. "There's no point getting all wound up", he tried to tell her. "Yes, I know how you feel about how your art is represented..."

"Misrepresented", corrected Pratisha, then she sighed again, dejectedly. "It's almost always the same, wherever we go... and don't get me started about those books about that boy who's supposed to be a witch...!"

"I didn't say anything...", The Traveller began, but he already knew the battle was lost. Once his companion got started about Harry Potter, there was no stopping her, unless the world decided to intervene in one way or another - the chance of her getting herself run over by a cab was pretty high if she didn't pay attention to the traffic...

"Hey, lady...!"

The Traveller cringed - a group of young men, mostly college boys, who had clearly been consuming intoxicants had slowed to match his and Pratisha's walking pace. He didn't exactly hear what the young men were shouting, but it clearly wasn't the sort of thing said to a woman in polite company. Before he could stop her, Pratisha's wand was in her hand, and the front axle of the offending car had turned to rubber, sending the vehicle swerving wildly across the street. For a moment, The Traveller feared for the safety of other, innocent road users, but the car swerved again, in towards the sidewalk - and straight into the rear of a parked patrol car with a nerve-jangling shriek of crumpling metal.

"And you wonder why there are so many stories about wicked witches", he sighed as Pratisha quickly returned her wand to its customary hiding place in the top of one of her thigh-length boots, before the two police officers who leapt out of the stricken patrol car saw anything suspicious. "Next time, we go to a ball game..."

The best way to take Pratisha's mind off things like that was to find something to eat, and salvation came in the form of a little family-run diner, down the next street. The place was open until late, but at the time it was empty of customers, and that gave The Traveller the chance to take out his all-purpose Omnisensor - to the uneducated eye, not much more than a larger-than-average pocket watch - and get back to unravelling the mystery that had brought them to this Earth.

"So, does this make any sense yet?", asked Pratisha as they sat waiting for their sandwiches.

"Not so far", murmured The Traveller thoughtfully, peering into the structured-light display hovering just above the "dial" of the "watch". "Those... gates were definitely siphoning matter and energy into another reality, but the trail just stops dead. And why this reality...?"

The diner owner, a broadly-built man whose roots originated an ocean away in Italy, approached their table with an orange juice for The Traveller and a vanilla milkshake for Pratisha. With an ease as thoroughly practised as Pratisha's holstering of her wand, The Traveller returned the Omnisensor to his waistcoat pocket before its true nature could be questioned, and nothing seemed out of place as "Tonio" set the drinks down on the table - here, as far as he could tell, was a nice young couple fresh from the theatre, and not a pair of interdimensional explorers.

"Now, if you nice people don' mind, I'm gonna put on summa my music", said the diner proprietor as he went back behind the counter. "The kids who do the day-shift, all they put on's that rap garbage..."

"Have you been here before?", Pratisha asked The Traveller once Tonio was out of earshot - she'd been dimension-hopping long enough to know the drill.

"No, but I know someone who has", he replied quite casually, stretching as he spoke. "She had a rather... busy time while she was here - she even needed to..."

The music Tonio had promised started up in the background, and The Traveller froze in mid-stretch, eyes growing wide with glee. There was something about the echoing guitar riff that seemed somewhat familiar to Pratisha - she'd heard it playing in the control centre of The Traveller's dimension-ship, the Endless Sunrise...

"'Man On The Silver Mountain'...!", exclaimed the wanderer between worlds, springing out of his seat, and his face was alight with joy as he sat down at the counter to engage Tonio in an animated discussion about the merits of Ritchie Blackmore and Ronnie James Dio. Not particularly wanting to sit on her own, the witch rose from her seat by the window, and brought the drinks back to the counter - she didn't favour any one style of music, but she'd certainly learned a lot about what some called "classic rock", a term The Traveller treated with disgust, saying "'classic rock' is The London Symphony Orchestra playing 'Paint It Black' at The Albert Hall..."

"Of course, this has the instrumental version of 'Still I'm Sad' on it", remarked The Traveller, turning the compact disk case over in his hands. "Don't know which I like better - that one, or the live version with lyrics..."

"Ah - 'On Stage'; great album that", sighed Tonio - both men were clearly in their element now. "First concert I went to was '77, at The Garden - Kiss..."

"Their first show at the MSG?", queried The Traveller.

"Yeah", answered the diner proprietor. "Those were the days..."

A bell connected to the door rang unexpectedly, and two police officers, shirts spattered with ketchup and coffee. "...if we catch them again, Bud, whatta you say we just escort them to a quiet spot an' bust their legs?", suggested one of them, looking down at his soiled uniform.

"Bud", the older of the two officers looked equally disgusted. "Twenty two years on the job, and that was my first fender-bender", he growled. "Hey, Tonio - you got somethin' back there that'll get this stuff out...?"

"Rough night, Bud?", asked the man behind the counter.

"Drunk frat boys cruisin' fer hookers", spat Bud. "Ran right into the back of us - and we were parked!"

The Traveller and Pratisha exchanged glances. The witch was not exactly pleased to have been mistaken for a prostitute, but her companion shot her a look that said "do nothing", and the two adventurers kept their heads down, silently welcoming their food as the law officers planted themselves in the next available seats at the counter, and tried to mop up the mess with napkins and damp dishcloths...

"The Sergeant's on his way", sighed the younger policeman, scrubbing at his tie. "We're gonna get our asses handed to us - first that thing with Capelli, now this..."

"I heard about that", said Tonio, after calling for coffee for his two uniformed customers. "Did he really just drive into a wall?"

"They don't want us talking about that", Bud intervened, before his partner could let anything slip out. "Especially with the public listening..."

Both The Traveller and Pratisha felt uncomfortable under the rather accusatory gaze of the two policemen - and things got worse when they were dragged into the whole messy business. "Hey", said Bud, "didn't I see you on the sidewalk, just before...?"

"Yes", muttered Pratisha, before The Traveller could stop her. "I'm sorry for what happened to you, but I'm not sorry for those foul-mouthed little idiots. They got what they deserved - and they deserved more."

Bud nodded. "Tell me about it - Miss...?"

"Westerly. Pratisha Westerly." There was little point in trying to make something up. As far as Pratisha was aware, she and The Traveller would be far away from this mess before anyone could check up, and find out she didn't exist on this particular Earth.

"Well, Miss Westerly, we would really appreciate it if you could tell the Sergeant about this unfortunate matter when he arrives", said the police veteran. "A witness statement that those boys were in any way distracted goes a long way to taking any blame off our backs."

The Traveller smiled weakly to himself as Pratisha told Officer Bud about the unwelcome attention she'd received from the college boys, but when he turned to continue his discussion of rock music with the diner owner, he found that Tonio was otherwise occupied, talking to the younger police officer, whose name-plate read "Parrish". "...and just seconds later, we got a call from the precinct about some kind of gang trouble", said Parrish, pouring more sugar into his coffee cup. "Some real action, and we have to miss it, 'cause of a car-load of drunken frat-boys."

"Any idea what kinda trouble?", asked Tonio. "It's been quiet for a good while now - wouldn't want things to get rowdy all of a sudden."

"Could be new players in town", answered a resentful Parrish, although it was hard to tell whether he was angry with the gangs, or missing out on attending the crime scene. "From what we heard, a buncha guys in an alley got chewed up pretty bad, and there was something sprayed on the wall: 'Fifty Points To House Glitterthorn' - or something like that."

A trickle of cold ran right down The Traveller's spine, and it froze him solid for a moment. Pratisha didn't see him shiver, for the witch had her back to him, and was telling Officer Bud that she'd "left her passport at the hotel", and that she'd "bring it round to the precinct in the morning"...

"Talking of which", The Traveller interrupted, coming up with a suitable story on the fly, "we should be heading back, darling. Don't forget we were going to go to Ground Zero before lunch."

Pratisha frowned. The Traveller never called her "darling" - in fact, he hardly ever used her first name, and he only ever diverged from that when he needed to get her attention. "Oh... oh yes", she exclaimed, catching on quickly. "We can't stay up much later..."

As The Traveller had hoped, the emotional resonance of the World Trade Centre disaster was enough to get him and Pratisha out from under the cops' scrutiny without any more problematic questions - although it felt somewhat... sordid to have to use such a catastrophe, and these people's memories of it, in such a way. Part of him almost wished history hadn't run so parallel on this Earth, and his "stab in the dark" had drawn nothing but blank looks from the locals, for whom such a terrible thing had simply never happened.

The adventurers made their farewells, The Traveller promising Tonio that they'd drop by again if they were in the neighbourhood, and with what was left of their sandwiches in bags to take away with them, the two of them stepped back into the street, and did their best not to look as though they were trying to put as much distance between themselves and the cops as they could, as quickly as possible...

Out of sight of the diner, Pratisha dumped her "doggy bag" in the first trash bin she could find. "Too much dressing?", asked The Traveller. "I did ask him to go easy..."

"No, it's not that", sighed the witch, but she didn't say what was bothering her right away. Instead, she had something to ask him."Care to explain why we had to rush out of there...?"

The Traveller's unfinished food joined Pratisha's in the bin - his appetite was well and truly dead, killed by what Officer Parrish had said. "Remember how I told you that I knew someone who'd been here before?", he began, and his companion nodded. "And remember how I said she was rather busy on that visit?"

Again, the half-Indian magic-wielder confirmed she had heard with a nod. "Well, my... associate was so busy that she required some assistance - assistance from a group calling themselves 'House Glitterthorn'."

"I heard the other policeman mention the name", Pratisha informed him. "Sounds like something out of those damned 'boy-witch' books."

"I guess he thought it was funny", said The Traveller. "In any case, that's a name we shouldn't be hearing in public - it means that either someone has misappropriated it, or there's something going on around here that's serious enough to drawn them into the open..."

...to be continued...

Posted at 22:21 on 14.09.2008


~ o O o ~


Previously...
Mane-of-Night And The Watcher From Beyond - Chapter 1 - 21.06.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Dark Child's Descent - Chapter 14 - 17.05.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Dark Child's Descent - Chapter 13 - 15.05.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Dark Child's Descent - Chapter 12 - 13.05.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Dark Child's Descent - Chapter 11 - 11.05.2009