8

Judy awoke clutching a notebook. At first she wasn’t sure where she was, but the strange odors, and the soft melodies of Barry Manilow coming from the stereo helped to remind her. If those weren’t enough of a hint, Paulie was sitting in the chair across from the sofa. He was staring at her with half-closed eyes. At first she thought he was naked, but he was wearing underwear. It looked a little too tight, and the spandex around his thighs and waist appeared to be cutting off his circulation. It didn’t conceal much. Better than nothing, though, she decided.

She stirred. Her back was a little stiff after a night on his sofa. She couldn’t remember why she’d spent the night here. Something had happened to her apartment, but the details were fuzzy.

Paulie had yet to react to her awakening. He just kept staring. She didn’t know if he was really staring or if he’d just fallen asleep with his eyes not quite closed. She almost tested him but figured she didn’t care.

The bathroom was occupied. She waited a minute, but had to get up and knock at the insistence of her bladder.

“Just a minute,” a woman said on the door’s other side. Grumbling, Judy slid down the wall and sat on the floor to wait. She noticed a few white feathers scattered on the carpet. Maybe Paulie had gotten a bird. A big bird.

A woman stepped out of the bathroom. Her robe sat high on her shoulders, like she had a hunchback. The woman noticed a feather held in Judy’s hand.

“Sorry, I’m molting.”

Only half listening, Judy nodded before ducking into the bathroom. She emerged feeling refreshed and hungry. On her way to the kitchenette, she noticed Paulie was still sitting in his chair. He hadn’t moved an inch.

His fridge was a wasteland of moldy leftovers. She found some milk, and after some scavenging, turned up some cereal, a bowl, and a wooden mixing spoon. She plopped down on the sofa while munching.

She picked up the notebook beside her with mild curiosity. The words DON’T FORGET written in bold marker. She flipped it open and scanned its contents. At first she thought it was a joke. But it was a damn elaborate one, considering the way the handwriting matched hers. Somebody must’ve gone to a lot of trouble.

The skinny woman emerged from the bedroom. She had jeans on but was topless. Probably because she couldn’t get a shirt on over her wings.

Judy set aside her bowl and read through the notebook. “Son of a bitch.”

“Forgot again, huh?” The angel took a seat on the sofa and picked up Judy’s cereal. “Sucks, I know. Gotta be annoying to keep forgetting.”

“Yeah.” Judy moved to the edge of the sofa because the angel’s wings were taking up a lot of space.

“I’m Gracie,” said the angel. “Judy.”

“So, I could show you a trick to help you with that. If you wanted.”

“What kind of trick?”

“Just a magic thing.”

“I can’t use magic,” Judy said. “Damn, I can’t even remember it.”

“Anybody can use magic,” said Gracie. “It’s not like it’s rocket science or anything. What you need is a memory charm. Something simple, easy enough for even you to remember.” She went to the shelf and found a book. “There should be something in here to handle it.”

Gracie handed off the bowl to Judy. The angel flipped through the pages before arriving at her destination. “Here we are. Memory enhancement glyph should do the trick.”

She found a marker on the coffee table and plopped down on the sofa. She leaned close to Judy and moved the marker to her forehead.

Judy blocked the tip with her palm. “What are you doing?”

“I’m helping. It’s what I do.” Gracie’s golden eyes sparkled, and she smiled. She had a crooked tooth. “It’s… like… kind of my job.”

“I don’t want to look like an idiot.”

“What are you worried about? Most humans won’t even notice it. Believe me—they miss a lot.” She spread her wings and flapped.

“No, thanks.”

Gracie capped the marker. “Suit yourself. No pinfeather off my wings. I don’t usually help people like you anyway.”

“Like me?” asked Judy. “Not-nice people.”

“I’m nice.”

“Well, you’re nice-ish.” An embarrassed look crossed Gracie’s face. “Let’s just drop it.”

“Let’s do that,” agreed Judy.

She finished off the rest of her cereal in angry gulps, stomped into the kitchen, and carefully balanced the bowl atop the pile of dirty dishes. She found a beer in Paulie’s fridge but decided it was too early for that. Afternoon was morning for a late-shifter. So she went for a soda instead.

She walked back into the living room. Gracie was gone. Paulie was still sitting immobile in his chair.

Judy drank her soda and fumed. Nobody was really nice anyway. The word didn’t mean anything.

Gracie returned wearing a backless shirt to accommodate her wings. “I’m sorry if I offended you. It’s not like you’re evil or anything.” She disappeared into the kitchen. There was the unmistakable clatter of foraging in Paulie’s fridge. “Are there any more sodas left?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Judy chugged the last half of her soda and crushed the can. She threw it behind the sofa just as Gracie returned.

“Now I feel bad. Let me make it up to you.” Gracie’s eyes went wide and soulful. “Pretty please.”

“Nobody is going to notice?” asked Judy. “Some people will notice. But most won’t.”

Judy considered the offer, but she didn’t see any other choice. She would forget otherwise. Even the notebook by itself could only slow the process. It couldn’t stop it. If she wanted to remember, she’d have to take radical steps. She consented.

Gracie drew the memory glyph on Judy’s forehead. After it was finished, Judy remembered again. It was a weird sort of memory, distant and without details.

“That’s all you have to do?” asked Judy. “Yep. Should work fine, although there are side effects you should—” Gracie checked her watch. “Oh, darn. I’ve got a transubstantiation in twenty minutes.” She prodded Paulie in the shoulder and his eyes snapped open. “You’ve got to give me a ride.”

“Can’t you just fly, babe?” he asked. “In this smog? Forget it.” While Paulie went to find some pants, Gracie pounced on Judy, seizing her in a powerful hug. “Good luck with your memory stuff.”

“Thanks.”

Paulie and Gracie left. Judy was relieved that he didn’t comment on the markings on her face. Maybe they weren’t as bad as she imagined. She checked herself in the bathroom mirror. The glyph occupied all of her forehead. It was hard to miss. She reminded herself that most people weren’t even as magically aware as she was, so it didn’t matter how much of her face was covered in special enchanted doodles. Heck, maybe even people who could recognize magic might not notice it. Maybe it was invisible.

“Are you using the bathroom?” asked somebody behind her. “’Cuz I really need to go.”

It was Paulie’s second lady friend from the night before. She was short, a little chubby, and appeared to be human. Though Judy wasn’t willing to take these things for granted anymore.

Judy stood in the doorway, scrutinizing the woman’s every reaction, trying to decide if the mark was visible to her. But she seemed more interested in getting past Judy than in looking at her face.

“I really need to go.” She pushed Judy aside.

“Nice glyph,” the woman remarked before shoving Judy out and slamming the bathroom door.

Judy bought a baseball cap an hour later.

She wasted the rest of the day watching television in Paulie’s place. She called in to work to tell them she wasn’t coming. She didn’t even bother faking sick. Nobody cared.

The memory glyph worked. She didn’t forget about magic, about the trolls and the existence of angels. And she didn’t forget to pick up Monster at ten.

He wasn’t ready.

Judy sat on the porch and smoked a cigarette while waiting. Monster appeared fifteen minutes later. His skin was gray tonight, and his hair was stark white. He hadn’t shaved. Short white fuzz formed an inverse shadow on his chin.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“Sorry, I just assumed you’d forget. How did you remember?”

“Somebody showed me a trick.”

“Memory glyph?” said Monster.

“Whatever works.” She adjusted her cap, pulling it lower. “Where’s the paper man?”

Monster patted his shirt pocket. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“I’m sure.”

They got into her car, and he pulled a devil doll from a pocket and propped it on the dashboard. He yanked on its left arm and twirled its feet until he tuned in to the right frequency.

She started the engine. “Where to?”

He told her to head toward the center of the city. That way the odds of being nearby to any call were increased.

“So what happens when you’re gray?” she asked.

“I can shoot lightning bolts from my fingertips,” he said. “Stings like hell, though.”

“Why do you change colors anyway?” she asked.

“About three years ago, I was bitten by a basilisk. That usually kills you. But if you’re very, very lucky, and the anti- venom treatment doesn’t make you into a puddle, then it leaves you with an unstable enchantment. So now I change color whenever I go to sleep and wake up and have different enchantments depending on what color I am. Also, I’m immune to all poisons and toxic substances.”

“Must come in handy in your line of work.”

“Yeah, almost makes the two months of daily, cripplingly painful alchemical injections worth it.”

“And your girlfriend is red too.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Why is that?”

“Because she’s a demon,” he said. “I agreed to let you drive me around for one night, but I didn’t say anything about answering a lot of questions. So who showed you the glyph?” he asked.

“An angel.”

“Let me guess. Her name was Charity. Or Chastity. Or Modesty. Still can’t figure out why angels all have stripper names.” Monster paused to listen to some of the noise filtering through the doll. A chimera was reported downtown, but they were too far away to have a shot at that. “Did she tell you about the side effects?”

“Of course she did,” Judy lied.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Nothing’s perfect,” she said.

“I guess you’re pretty serious about this then. Most people freak out when you mention aneurisms and premature memory loss.”

Judy took some time to process the information, being very sure to keep a neutral expression.

“It works for now. I’ll figure something else out when I have to. Is this all you do all night? Drive around?”

“What’d you expect?”

“I don’t know. Just something more than this.”

“Nope. This is it,” he said. “It’s a lot like war. Long stretches of boredom interrupted by brief moments of terror.”

Half an hour later, the radio doll announced a bag only ten minutes away, but Monster didn’t call in for it. “If I had my van, it’d be no big deal. But I don’t have the supplies to bag a gwyllgi.”

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” she said. “I can get the concept of magic. I mean, it’s not like I hadn’t heard of the idea before. And trolls and yetis and stuff like that. But why can’t I remember when I run into it?”

“Before adolescence, all children are light cognizants,” said Monster. “That lets you pick up the basic concepts. Later, when Merlin’s lobe is reabsorbed, it’s in there.” He tapped his temple. “Even if you think it’s only make-believe.”

“Then how do I know what’s real and what’s not?” she said.

“When I was a kid, I had an imaginary friend named Sharon. She was a stegosaurus. Was she real?”

“I doubt it.”

“Why? Aren’t dinosaurs real?”

“They were. At least, I think they were. But then again, unicorns were never real, so who knows?”

“How can I trust anything?” Judy asked. “If my memory is so unreliable, how can I even be sure this conversation is taking place?”

“You can’t.”

“I should just stop trying?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “You’re in the worst place to be. Being a light cog sucks. I’d tell you to stop, but it wouldn’t make much difference. You’d still keep running across magic, remembering and forgetting over and over again. That’s just the way it is. Sorry to be the one to break the news to you. Although I’m probably not the first one. Probably won’t be the last either.”

She snarled.

He considered telling her the truth. It would get better. Her lobe would continue to decay over time until she became a full incog no longer having to deal with light cog confusion. The downside was that light cogs had a much higher likelihood of crippling senility and/or mental illness in their golden years. He elected not to mention any of it out of vague sympathy.

Judy pulled in to a convenience store. She announced she was getting a candy bar and jumped out of the car before Monster could say anything else that might annoy her. She was beginning to think he was right. Just forget the whole thing and get on with her life. Occasionally she might run into something strange, get a glimpse of this other world. She must’ve done it all the time, if these last few days were any indication. It hadn’t hurt her so far to just let it go.

Even if she did find a way to remember, she couldn’t do this job, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She didn’t know why she was bothering. It was more frustrating than anything else.

She wasn’t in the mood for a candy bar, but she’d said she was going to buy one, so she just grabbed something randomly from a shelf. There was a short line at the checkout. Three people were ahead of her, and the lady at the counter was buying lottery tickets with all the care and eye for detail one usually saves for bomb disposal.

“How many Lucky Duck Bucks do you have left?” she asked the clerk.

“Ten.”

“Oh, that’s good. The last ten are usually the lucky ones.” She turned and repeated it to the customers behind her.

Judy tensed, squeezing her candy bar into a misshapen lump within its wrapper. The petite woman in front of her sighed with annoyance. The lottery lady was unaware of these signs and continued her methodical task.

Judy tore open the wrapper and took a bite. It didn’t have nuts. She hated chocolate without nuts. Grimacing, she forced herself to swallow and realized now that she’d opened it, she was going to have to pay for the damn thing.

Judy grabbed a magazine off a rack and flipped through it without reading it. The line still hadn’t moved an inch when something weird got in line behind her.

The creature was short, with pale, scaly skin and pointed ears. It had a tail too. It was wearing slacks, a nice jacket, and a tie. And it was buying a six-pack of beer, a bottled water, and a hot rod magazine.

It caught her looking at it and nodded. “Hello.”

“Hi.” She buried her nose in her magazine. Now was not the time to panic. She’d been waiting for a chance to see if she could make it as a cryptobiological handler, and now the opportunity was right in her lap. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t human.

She stole a glance over her shoulder. The creature smiled and nodded again. Judy, nodding back again, appraised it. It wasn’t very big. Only about five feet, and couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds. It didn’t have claws, and its teeth didn’t appear sharp enough to be dangerous. The tail might be a problem, but she was pretty sure she could take it. She’d taken some judo at the Y and knew a few pins that should be easy to execute on this runt.

She thought about getting Monster, but then he’d just push her aside and take care of it himself. She had to prove to him that she could do this. And she had to prove it to herself. If she captured one damn supernatural creature, she could claim that this night wasn’t a total waste. If nothing else, she could scrawl a memory glyph on her forehead occasionally and remember the night she captured a sea elf. Or whatever the hell this was.

By the time Judy got to the front of the line, she had a plan. She couldn’t know for sure if this creature had any special powers. Maybe he could breathe fire or turn things into gold. Maybe if she captured him he’d grant her three wishes. Whatever he might be capable of, her best bet was to take him off-guard. She paid for her candy bar, stuffed it into her pocket, and walked out the door. The store had a glass front, so she sauntered casually around the corner, where she waited.

Monster was fiddling with the radio doll and hadn’t noticed her exit. So much the better, she thought. Now he’d feel like an idiot for missing the creature right in front of his nose.

The sea elf exited the store and by a stroke of luck turned her way. She pulled back into the darkened corner, listening to his approaching footsteps. Just as he came into sight, she threw herself into him. There wasn’t much of a struggle, and soon she had him down on the pavement. There was some squirming and swearing from both of them. His flailing fist smacked her in the throat. She gagged but managed to force him onto his stomach and twist his arm behind him.

“Ow!” he screamed. “What’s wrong with you, you crazy bitch?”

“I caught you, you little… whatever the hell you are! I caught you!”

While the creature unsuccessfully struggled to free itself, Monster got out of the car and stood before Judy.

“What are you doing?”

“I caught something.” She pressed the weight of her knee into the creature’s back. “See? It’s not human!”

“I knew it!” said the creature. “I knew it wasn’t any different here. Land of the free, my ass. I’ve got a green card!”

The possibility that she’d made a horrible mistake came to Judy slowly. She was still working it out when Monster suggested she should release her capture. She did so with reluctance, and the sea elf stood, glaring.

“I’m sorry, sir,” said Monster. “This has all been a misunderstanding.”

The sea elf scooped up his magazine. Several pages had been torn out in the scuffle.

Monster took Chester out of his pocket and instructed him to deal with the elf while Monster took Judy aside.

“Why did you do that?”

“He’s a creature,” she said. “I mean, look at him.”

“I knew this was a bad idea. Just because he’s not human doesn’t mean he’s a cryptobiological.”

“It doesn’t?”

“There are four general classifications: human, animal, cryptobiological, and parahuman. Guess what he is?”

The sea elf ranted at Chester, who continued to try to calm him down.

“My job is to capture cryptos. Nothing else.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I didn’t think you’d be going nuts and tackling anything with pointed ears.”

“How can I tell the difference?” she asked. “Those trolls looked kind of like people, didn’t they?”

“A good rule of thumb is, if it’s standing in line to buy beer, it’s probably not a threat to public safety. You’d better hope Chester can smooth things over. Otherwise, you’re probably going to jail.”

After a few minutes, Chester’s efforts seemed to have an effect. Chester came over to Monster and Judy. “He’s willing to forget the whole thing on a few conditions. He wants fifty dollars and a new magazine.”

“I just spent my last buck on a candy bar.” Judy turned out her pockets and discovered a chocolaty mess. “Crap, I just bought these jeans.”

Monster paid off the sea elf. “No hard feelings, pal.”

“I’m really sorry,” said Judy. “It’s all right,” said the elf. “These things happen.”

He held out his left hand to her. She was a little thrown by that, but rather than risk offending him, she offered her left, and they shook. Grinning sinisterly, he squeezed, and a sharp point of heat pricked her palm. The sea elf released her and ran off.

“Let’s get out of here before you do anything else stupid,” said Monster. “By the way, you owe me fifty bucks.”

The radio doll reported a gargoyle in an attic that was nearby. Monster called in for the bag and gave Judy directions.

By the time they got to the house, the heat in her palm had become a bothersome itch. She scratched it and noticed an odd-shaped spot on her left hand. “What the hell?”

“Oh, that’s just the mark.” Monster grabbed his bag and got out. “Stay here. This shouldn’t take long. Keep an eye on her, Chester.”

“Mark? What mark?” asked Judy, but Monster was already on the front porch, so she turned to Chester.

“What mark?”

“The mark of the curse,” said Chester. “The curse that the parahuman put on you. You shouldn’t ever shake with the left hand.”

“You couldn’t have warned me earlier?” she asked. “Sorry. Didn’t want to make a fuss.” He checked her hand. “Doesn’t look too bad, a minor misfortune hex. Doubt it can do much except inconvenience you for a few minutes once it activates. But it might be smarter to look both ways before crossing the street in the meantime.”

The door to the house opened and Monster stepped inside. Judy stared at the house while drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

“Screw this.”

She got out of the car. Chester folded himself into a parrot and landed on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t recommend that, Miss Hines. Probably smarter to stay in the car while the curse is still in effect.”

“You said it was no big deal.”

“It’s not. Unless you put yourself in a bad spot.”

“I came to see stuff, not sit in the car.”

“I didn’t really want to say anything, but you’ve made several dumb decisions tonight. Maybe you should take a moment to consider if this might be another one.”

He had a point. The only reason she had this bad luck curse was because she’d done something stupid.

“But if it’s a misfortune curse, how do I know if I go back to the car that it won’t blow up or something?” she asked.

“That’s far too improbable,” said Chester. “The curse doesn’t have the strength to circumvent plausibility. It just pushes small events in certain disadvantageous directions. The odds that the car should explode are remote. The odds that you’ll pick up rabies from a gargoyle bite are significantly higher.”

Judy went back to the car, lit a cigarette, leaned against the hood, and waited for Monster.

“Why did I do this?” she asked herself aloud. “What was the point?”

“You were curious, Miss Hines. Like a monkey obsessed with opening a puzzle box.”

“I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop using monkey analogies.”

“Sorry.”

“So what do you get out of this?” asked Judy.

Chester said, “This body is not my true form. I’m actually a sixth-dimensional entity using this paper construct to interact and interface with this plane. In the process, certain energies, for lack of a better word, are transferred back to my home dimension. These energies, though abundant on this plane, are dwindling in my own, making them a valued commodity.”

“Just another working stiff,” she said. “Aren’t we all? But it’s not a bad gig. I just bought a house and am sending one of my progeny to the Translucent Spheres of Supremacy. She’s majoring in quantum duality mechanics with a minor in accounting.”

“So you’re married, then?”

“In a manner. My true nature is hard to explain in terms you could understand.”

“Because I’m a monkey,” said Judy. “I never said that.”

“But you were thinking it.”

“I don’t judge,” said Chester. “I rather like you lower entities. You’ve done quite well for transient globs of possibly sentient protoplasm.”

“Possibly sentient?”

“The jury is still out.”

Monster exited the house.

“Did you get it?” asked Judy. “Got them. There were two.” He held up two gray rocks in his palm. “Surprised you stayed in the car.”

“Didn’t want to get rabies.”

Monster chuckled. “Gargoyles don’t carry rabies.”

Judy brushed Chester off her shoulder. He folded himself into his gnomish shape and shrugged.

“Are you ready to go?” asked Monster.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Judy took a long drag of her cigarette before flicking the stub at Chester. It bounced off his paper body, burning a small hole in it.

“What was that about?” said Monster. “Nothing to worry about, boss,” replied Chester. “You get used to it in this job. Protoplasm can be touchy.”