Pocket Apocalypse
Page 79
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“No, of course not,” said Raina, sounding baffled by the idea. “He’s not a people. He’s just Basil.”
I looked to Shelby. She looked horrified. Good. At least one of the Tanner sisters understood why the yowie was angry—and while I could forgive Raina for not seeing him as a person when she first met him, I couldn’t forgive her for continuing to see him as something less than she was after spending all the time she had described in his company. Basil wasn’t human. He should still have been allowed the opportunity to join in the mourning for his friend.
Shelby’s thoughts seemed to have run along similar channels. When the yowie waded back to the bank, now dragging the small boat in his wake, Shelby ran and splashed a few feet out into the water, throwing her arms around as much of his thick, weed-covered torso as she could manage. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. The water swirled around her ankles as Basil blinked bemusedly down at her. She continued, “I should have realized you missed Jack almost as much as we did. I should have told my father you were coming to the funeral, so that you could say good-bye, and damn anyone who thought you didn’t belong there. I didn’t realize I was being horrible, Basil, and I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“Ah,” he said, and raised one muddy hand to pat her shoulder, awkwardly—less, it seemed to me, because he didn’t want to offer comfort, and more because he was so much bigger than she was that he was afraid of hurting her. He could easily have crushed her, but all he did was pat twice and then pull his hand away. “It’s all right, Shelby, don’t cry on me, all right? You know how I hate getting wet.”
Shelby lifted her head and laughed thickly. She was crying, and the funereal look she always had when she wasn’t smiling had deepened, becoming an almost overwhelming sadness. “You’re always wet, you swampy bastard. You haven’t been dry a day in your life.”
“And I hope never to be,” Basil said. “I brought your boat.”
“Thank you.” Shelby swiped a hand across her eyes and turned to me. “You should probably stay out here. The boat’s only built for three. We used to have to play ferry to get all four of us over.”
“No problem,” I said. “I’ll keep watch for more werewolves.” I didn’t want to let Shelby and Raina go to the playhouse without me, but I knew that neither of them would stand for being left behind, and if anything would convince Gabby to come out and let us help her, it was the presence of her sisters.
Raina seemed to sense my reluctance. She paused as she walked toward the water, long enough to touch my arm and murmur, “Thank you.” Then she was joining Shelby in the boat, and the two of them were producing oars from the bottom of the vessel and rowing away, leaving me and Basil standing on the shore. Jett sat down on the bank nearby, whining as she watched her mistress row away.
Basil looked at me. I looked at him. Neither of us said anything. Shelby and Raina reached the tree that housed their rickety hideaway. They tied the boat in place and got out, swarming up the boards that had been nailed to the tree trunk like gravity and the Tanner sisters were not well-acquainted.
Basil snorted. “When we first put those boards up for the girls, they used to fall off every time they tried to climb,” he said. “I was forever catching them before they could hit the water.”
“Oh?” I asked, neutrally.
“Yeah. This water’s no good for humans to be splashing around in. You people take sick so easy, there’s no point in making it any harder on you, is there?” He crossed his arms, forcing a few drops of water out of the moss that covered him. It dripped back into the swamp at his feet. “I always caught them. Put them back in the tree. They just needed to learn how to climb on their own.”
“It sounds like you did a lot for them. Thank you. I’d be sad if Shelby had drowned before I got to meet her.”
“I’d say you would be. Fiancé, huh? I don’t suppose I’ll be getting an invitation to the wedding.” It was impossible to ignore the bitter note in the yowie’s voice. He’d been so important to the Tanners when they were children, and Shelby had never thought to mention him to me, because she’d never really considered him a person.
Wait. “I thought Shelby and her family weren’t from around here,” I said. “How did you know them when they were kids?”
“They came here for training, Society business, all that,” said Basil. “I only saw them once or twice a year most of the time, but that was more than enough for me. They were always smiles and laughter when they were little. Makes me want to go find a nice girl and have some kids of my own, you know? And don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging the question.”
Shelby and Raina had vanished inside the playhouse. I watched the side of the building, searching for any hint of what was going on in there. “I wasn’t dodging it, I just don’t know yet,” I said. “We only got engaged a day ago, and I need to talk to my family, find out where the wedding is even going to happen . . . if we get married in Australia, you’re more than welcome to attend. Given how little her parents seem to like me, I’m expecting we’ll get married in the United States, or maybe on a ship in international waters where no one can say we’re starting things off by favoring one side of the family over the other.”
Basil laughed. “Oh, you humans. You sure do know how to muck things up, don’t you?”
“We’re pretty good at it,” I admitted. Something banged inside the playhouse, causing bits of sawdust to detach from the bottom and drift down to the swamp. I tensed. “Did you see that?”
“They’re just slamming around. They do that.” For all his calm words, Basil kept a tight eye on the tree. “What’s going on, anyway?”
If the Tanners hadn’t told the local wadjet community about the werewolves, I doubted they’d told the yowie either—and Basil weighed four hundred pounds if he weighed an ounce. The idea of something that large catching lycanthropy was enough to make my blood run cold. “Have you ever heard of werewolves?”
“Oh, that lot? Nasty bunch. They tried to bite me a few days ago. I drowned three in the swamp before they realized it was a bad idea.” Basil sounded utterly calm.
I blinked at him, mentally adding “drowning” to the list of things that would kill a werewolf, rather than just inconveniencing them for a little while. “You do realize they’re contagious, yes? If they’d bitten you, you could have turned into one of them.” Yowie are mammals. Big, intimidating mammals.
I looked to Shelby. She looked horrified. Good. At least one of the Tanner sisters understood why the yowie was angry—and while I could forgive Raina for not seeing him as a person when she first met him, I couldn’t forgive her for continuing to see him as something less than she was after spending all the time she had described in his company. Basil wasn’t human. He should still have been allowed the opportunity to join in the mourning for his friend.
Shelby’s thoughts seemed to have run along similar channels. When the yowie waded back to the bank, now dragging the small boat in his wake, Shelby ran and splashed a few feet out into the water, throwing her arms around as much of his thick, weed-covered torso as she could manage. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. The water swirled around her ankles as Basil blinked bemusedly down at her. She continued, “I should have realized you missed Jack almost as much as we did. I should have told my father you were coming to the funeral, so that you could say good-bye, and damn anyone who thought you didn’t belong there. I didn’t realize I was being horrible, Basil, and I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“Ah,” he said, and raised one muddy hand to pat her shoulder, awkwardly—less, it seemed to me, because he didn’t want to offer comfort, and more because he was so much bigger than she was that he was afraid of hurting her. He could easily have crushed her, but all he did was pat twice and then pull his hand away. “It’s all right, Shelby, don’t cry on me, all right? You know how I hate getting wet.”
Shelby lifted her head and laughed thickly. She was crying, and the funereal look she always had when she wasn’t smiling had deepened, becoming an almost overwhelming sadness. “You’re always wet, you swampy bastard. You haven’t been dry a day in your life.”
“And I hope never to be,” Basil said. “I brought your boat.”
“Thank you.” Shelby swiped a hand across her eyes and turned to me. “You should probably stay out here. The boat’s only built for three. We used to have to play ferry to get all four of us over.”
“No problem,” I said. “I’ll keep watch for more werewolves.” I didn’t want to let Shelby and Raina go to the playhouse without me, but I knew that neither of them would stand for being left behind, and if anything would convince Gabby to come out and let us help her, it was the presence of her sisters.
Raina seemed to sense my reluctance. She paused as she walked toward the water, long enough to touch my arm and murmur, “Thank you.” Then she was joining Shelby in the boat, and the two of them were producing oars from the bottom of the vessel and rowing away, leaving me and Basil standing on the shore. Jett sat down on the bank nearby, whining as she watched her mistress row away.
Basil looked at me. I looked at him. Neither of us said anything. Shelby and Raina reached the tree that housed their rickety hideaway. They tied the boat in place and got out, swarming up the boards that had been nailed to the tree trunk like gravity and the Tanner sisters were not well-acquainted.
Basil snorted. “When we first put those boards up for the girls, they used to fall off every time they tried to climb,” he said. “I was forever catching them before they could hit the water.”
“Oh?” I asked, neutrally.
“Yeah. This water’s no good for humans to be splashing around in. You people take sick so easy, there’s no point in making it any harder on you, is there?” He crossed his arms, forcing a few drops of water out of the moss that covered him. It dripped back into the swamp at his feet. “I always caught them. Put them back in the tree. They just needed to learn how to climb on their own.”
“It sounds like you did a lot for them. Thank you. I’d be sad if Shelby had drowned before I got to meet her.”
“I’d say you would be. Fiancé, huh? I don’t suppose I’ll be getting an invitation to the wedding.” It was impossible to ignore the bitter note in the yowie’s voice. He’d been so important to the Tanners when they were children, and Shelby had never thought to mention him to me, because she’d never really considered him a person.
Wait. “I thought Shelby and her family weren’t from around here,” I said. “How did you know them when they were kids?”
“They came here for training, Society business, all that,” said Basil. “I only saw them once or twice a year most of the time, but that was more than enough for me. They were always smiles and laughter when they were little. Makes me want to go find a nice girl and have some kids of my own, you know? And don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging the question.”
Shelby and Raina had vanished inside the playhouse. I watched the side of the building, searching for any hint of what was going on in there. “I wasn’t dodging it, I just don’t know yet,” I said. “We only got engaged a day ago, and I need to talk to my family, find out where the wedding is even going to happen . . . if we get married in Australia, you’re more than welcome to attend. Given how little her parents seem to like me, I’m expecting we’ll get married in the United States, or maybe on a ship in international waters where no one can say we’re starting things off by favoring one side of the family over the other.”
Basil laughed. “Oh, you humans. You sure do know how to muck things up, don’t you?”
“We’re pretty good at it,” I admitted. Something banged inside the playhouse, causing bits of sawdust to detach from the bottom and drift down to the swamp. I tensed. “Did you see that?”
“They’re just slamming around. They do that.” For all his calm words, Basil kept a tight eye on the tree. “What’s going on, anyway?”
If the Tanners hadn’t told the local wadjet community about the werewolves, I doubted they’d told the yowie either—and Basil weighed four hundred pounds if he weighed an ounce. The idea of something that large catching lycanthropy was enough to make my blood run cold. “Have you ever heard of werewolves?”
“Oh, that lot? Nasty bunch. They tried to bite me a few days ago. I drowned three in the swamp before they realized it was a bad idea.” Basil sounded utterly calm.
I blinked at him, mentally adding “drowning” to the list of things that would kill a werewolf, rather than just inconveniencing them for a little while. “You do realize they’re contagious, yes? If they’d bitten you, you could have turned into one of them.” Yowie are mammals. Big, intimidating mammals.
