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 Posted: Fri Jul 27, 2007 9:22 am
 When they found the time to do so, Genevieve and Dragul studied bus routes. Well, Genevieve studied bus routes and Dragul nibbled on the edges of the pages. They discussed places they might like to go.
One place Dragul expressed a great deal of interest in was the beach. So, now that Genevieve had the promise of a paychech eventually, she decided they could splurge and go on a trip to the beach. The prospect excited Dragul immensely, and so the goblin corsea didn't even mind being bundled up in a huge amount of clothing and made to sit on a rather smelly bus for over an hour.
At the beach, Genevieve set herself up with a towel and several books, and read. No part of her skin showed that was not slathered with sunblock. She was a person who tended to burn, and she was not going to risk it. The bosses would not be impressed if she came back in on Monday with a lobster-burn.
Dragul played in the sand a little bit and caught crabs, but mostly she swam in the salt water and pretended to herself that she was a mermaid. She had been fascinated with them most of her adolescent life, though she knew she wasn't really a mermaid, it was nicer to be a mermaid than a goblin, she thought. Goblins were always the enemy.
Later that night they met two other creatures, Alex and Vik, who were also like Dragul, and ate s'mores with them. Genevieve was pleased to meet them, but Dragul was ecstatic. She liked meeting more people like herself, even if they weren't exactly like herself. They were what Genevieve would call kindred.
They got home very late, and Genevieve was tired at work the next day, but she got through. Dragul slept all day.
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Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2007 7:01 am
Genevieve's first paycheck was a definite cause for celebration. For one thing, it was more than she had ever been paid at one time in her life. For another, she could actually spend it all on herself, because the company with the experimental drug they wanted to test on her mother had picked up the tab for all her mother's medical fees.
She did feel that she had been neglecting her mother a little, but she told herself that she would spend at least fifty dollars of her paycheck buying her mother a gift, and that made her feel better. Then she called Andrew, because she had never had so much money at one time and she wanted to splurge.
"Let's go have dinner. My treat," she said, grinning like an idiot even though he couldn't see her through the telephone. "I have, for the first time in my life, money!"
"Sorry, V, but I can't. Not tonight. My dad's got one of his business associates over. They want to discuss My Future." He said it so that it sounded like a line from a bad horror movie.
"Is it that bad?" Genevieve asked.
"It's worse. I have to wear a suit and a tie."
Genevieve snorted. Andrew looked good in a suit. He looked good in everything he wore, wearing suits as casually as jeans and t-shirts. She envied people like that. She always felt self-conscious, no matter what she wore. She felt too dressed-up or too casual or too shabby or...anyway, she didn't have that gift for wearing clothes well, and she admired those people who did.
"Poor thing," she said unsympathetically. "Call me later and let me know how it goes."
"Sure. By 'later' you do mean some time next Tuesday, right?" he joked.
"Yes. Exactly."
"Okay then. Love you."
"Me, too. Bye."
"Bye."
So she wouldn't be spending the evening with Andrew. Fine. She'd spend it with Dragul at the mall. Dragul had never been out shopping before. It might make a nice change for her. When Genevieve made the offer, Dragul was thrilled and agreed at once.
"But what about the tendrils?" she asked.
But Genevieve had an answer for that. She rummaged in her dresser for the skirt she was looking for. She knew she had it somewhere. Dragul's hips were more narrow than hers were now, but this particular skirt ought to fit. It had fit her when she was thirteen and very tall for her age and built like a stick.
She helped Dragul put on the long, denim skirt and then they went to the bus stop to catch the bus to the mall. Genevieve didn't own a car. They were far too expensive and she'd always been able to walk everywhere, but the mall was a bit too far to walk, even for someone as accustomed to walking as Genevieve was.
The trip was exciting for both Dragul and Genevieve. Dragul had never seen so many people in one place at one time, or so many interesting things. Genevieve had explained to her on the bus ride that she was not to take anything unless Genevieve had paid for it, and explained about money and payment and all that. Dragul suddenly, and for the first time, saw a use for math.
Genevieve was just excited to be at the mall. She hadn't been to the mall since she was in eighth grade because everything there was too expensive and it was just depressing to go there and be reminded of the reduced circumstances in which she lived. Her circumstances were still reduced, but they were less so, and she had money to spend, so she spent it, taking care to save a good portion for bill-paying and fifty dollars for her mother's gift.
She bought with the rest of it, which was not so much, really, but more spending money than she'd had before in her life, a skirt and top for Dragul with which the goblin had been particularly taken and a shirt which she could wear to work. It was exciting to have new clothes. For her mother she bought a gold watch with diamonds around the face. She wasn't sure if her mother would like it, but it made her feel better to have bought her mother something. She would bring it to her at the hospital the next day after work.
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Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2007 7:44 am
Days passed and Genevieve fell into a pleasant routine of work, Andrew, and Dragul. Dragul was much too large to bring to work with her as she had done at the diner, so she was left at home during work. It made Genevieve feel guilty, but she reminded herself that she had been home alone for even longer periods of time at Dragul's approximate age. However, she did try to include Dragul in the things she did with Andrew when she could. Sometimes, though, it just wasn't feasible.
Genevieve had been afraid that Andrew would lose interest in her after having had sex with her, but that didn't seem to be the case, thankfully. He called her every day, and on days when he couldn't see her he left cute messages on her answering machine. She enjoyed the messages and saved them, though she lived with the fear that he might one day play back the messages on a whim and think she was being ridiculous. She couldn't help it, really.
Work was relaxing, too. It was a little onerous, but she had lived through worse. High school, for example. Besides, no one pinched her butt or made suggestions that would have made a sailor blush or yelled at her because there wasn't enough salt in the mashed potatoes. All she had to do was answer the phone and direct the calls appropriately. It was blissfully simple. And only once had she been asked to make anyone coffee, and it had been Mr. Freare, and she supposed she could live with the "demeaning" labor for the man who signed her pay slip.
There was just one matter that concerned her. Her mother. Her mother's care was completely out of Genevieve's hands, and while it was a financial relief, Genevieve couldn't help worrying about her. She hadn't been allowed in to see her mother to give her the watch. She was told to leave it with somebody and they'd see that her mother received it. She tried again each successive day and met with similar results. Genevieve was growing extremely worried, and none of the doctors working with her mother could or would say anything.
When she told Andrew her concern, because he had practically forced her to do so, he had frowned. She asked what was th ematter and he said, "Did you ever get to see the contract your mother signed when she agreed to this?"
Genevieve nodded. "I've got a copy." She kept it in the desk drawer by her bed, along with a book, a flashlight, and a pack of condoms. The condoms were a new addition in deference to Andrew.
"Could I have a look at it?"
She nodded and fetched it from her bedroom. He took it from her and started studying it. To all appearances, he actually knew what he was reading. Genevieve was intelligent and well-read, but the legalese was a bit beyond her, and so were many of the medical terms, though she had access to a medical dictionary via the public library.
Genevieve sat on the couch beside Dragul, who stared at Andrew with fascination. Neither had seen Andrew look so intent on anything for a very long time. Dragul, however, grew bored with the activity and went to the kitchen to work on her letters. Genevieve had begun to teach her to read. It was not a fast process.
"V?"
"Yes?"
"According to this, unless you signed something saying that you would say nothing of their procedures to anyone they actually do have the right to deny you visiting privileges. It's kind of shitty for them to invoke it without giving you warning, but it's legal."
Genevieve deflated.
"You're sure?"
"Yeah. I was supposed to be a lawyer, remember? It would have been my job to decipher these kinds of things."
"Okay. Is there a way I can get ahold of one of those things to sign?"
"I don't know. You'd have to talk to the company's lawyers or something. Or maybe one of the doctors working with her."
It was a subdued evening, and Andrew didn't stay overnight. Dragul, however, remembered up to the letter R in the alphabet.
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Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2007 8:01 am
"The end!" Dragul read.
Genevieve had brought home a number of easy readers from the local library to help her teach Dragul how to read. Dragul, though mostly an adolescent, didn't take to reading, and Genevieve held a small fear in her heart that she had waited too long to teach her. She remembered reading somewhere that a person's capacity for language and reading topped out at age five, and while Dragul was not five years old, she was certainly more mature than that, both physically and mentally.
And Dragul took to reading like a cat to water. Which is to say, she could swim, if the analogy was to hold, but she didn't do so easily, and it was a trial. She didn't particularly care for it, either. The flaw in the analogy, of course, was that Dragul truly did want to learn to read, and no cat wants to be in water. She simply didn't like the process of learning or, in truth, the process of reading.
In this case, however, her difficulties were temporarily forgotten.
"I did it!" she exclaimed, leaping up from her chair and whizzing around the room in her excitement.
"You did!" Genevieve agreed. "That was very good."
"It was! Can we go out? Please? Can we go to a movie?"
Genevieve was hesitant to agree, but she supposed that as long as Dragul wore a long enough skirt that it wasn't readily apparent that she floated, rather than walked, they could get along. Movie theatres tended to be dark, she reminded herself, and if Dragul kept her hair over her face and wore a top that covered most of her upper body, it wouldn't be so obvious that her skin was kind of a greenish color.
"Okay."
She had some spending money, after all, and why have spending money if not to spend it? The preparations involved with getting Dragul ready to go out in public were considerable, but Dragul really liked going to the movies, and so she tolerated the exhaustive preparations and the clothing which she considered to be heavy and confining.
Genevieve blamed Andrew for Dragul's fascination with movies, as he was the one who first took the corsea to the movies. He and Genevieve had had a date, but Dragul had felt so forlorn at being left behind he extended the offer to the corsea as well. She didn't understand a number of the references in the movie, but she enjoyed it immensely, and was always trying to get herself invited to more movies.
Dragul didn't really care what kind of movies she watched. She just loved them. She wondered if people really lived such lives, but whenever she asked Genevieve, her human friend would just smile that affectionate smile which said "you're so naive". Dragul had learned to hate that smile. She didn't want to be naive, but how was she to stop being naive without asking questions?
"Can you look any faster?" she asked for the fourth time as Genevieve looked for the outfit Dragul wore when she left the house.
"I'm looking as fast as I can," Genevieve said, biting off her words, a sure sign that she was getting irritated.
"I mean, I want to get there before the movie starts," Dragul said with a hint of a whine in her voice.
"Dragul," Genevieve said sharply, "you know how to get to the theatre. Why don't you just go without me?"
"You have the money," Dragul answered sullenly.
"Fine. Here." Genevieve shoved her purse at Dragul. "Have fun."
Dragul realized she had, perhaps, pushed Genevieve a little too far. "I didn't mean -"
"No. Please. Go ahead. I would like some time alone. God knows I never get any, between you and Andrew and work. Please. Go to the movies. Stay all night if you want."
Genevieve left Dragul alone in her bedroom and stalked out of the house, grabbing a set of spare keys. Dragul, unsure what else to do, pulled on the skirt she usually wore and a brightly colored poncho and left, too. At first she thought to follow Genevieve, but she lost her too quickly, so she went to the bus stop and waited for the bus which would take her to the movie theatre, alone in the dark.
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 7:01 am
The bus came and Dragul got on. The bus driver recognized her and nodded a greeting after taking her dollar fifty fare. The coin machine was broken on the bus, it seemed. She went to a seat near the front of the bus, figuring that was the safest place to be.
She felt an unpleasant tingling in her stomach a the bus got closer and closer to the strip mall with the movie theatre. She wasn't sure if it was guilt or fear or something else, but she didn't like it.
Dragul got off the bus and bought a ticket. She couldn't have said what movie she had bought a ticket for. She simply went inside, then, and went into the theatre in which the people in the uniforms told her her movie was showing after tearing her ticket in half and handing her a stub back. She wondered why they always did that. What possible use could she have for a ticket stub?
She watched the previews and considered which new movies she wanted to see when they came out, which seemed an age away. The people announcing these things kept saying things like "November 2007." She had no idea what that meant. She'd been with Genevieve for nearly a year, but she knew very little, really, about the world she lived in. It was not exactly a pleasant thing to realize.
The movie started and Dragul tried very hard to pay attention to the plot, but she kept forgetting the character's names and motivations. It was a thriller, which she should have enjoyed, by all rights, because she liked the tension and the occasional bouts of violence, but she just couldn't stop thinking about what Genevieve had said to her:
"I would like some time alone. God knows I never get any, between you and Andrew and work. Stay all night."
It made her sick to think about it. And the expression on Genevieve's face, somewhere between anger and desperation. Dragul realized that Genevieve had been under more stress than she let on, and that maybe the papers Andrew had read for her had meant something bad. She hadn't been that interested at the time, but now she felt guilty for her lack of interest.
She wanted to go home.
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 7:36 am
Genevieve stalked to the stream, where she used to go to be alone, where she had destroyed a Bible all those months ago. She had not visited the place since that episode, and now she wondered why not. It was as peaceful as it had always been, as calming and relaxing to her as ever. Soothing despite the high emotions she usually felt there.
It was nighttime. She had gone to the place in the dark before. She had gone there at all times of day. She knew the place so well she didn't need to be able to see. Which was good, because the darkness was relatively total there, and she couldn't see a thing.
She lay in the crotch of the twisted oak tree which had always seemed to fit her body, no matter how much taller she got. She had been coming to that tree and that place since she was five. Her mother had shown it to her, she now remembered. She hadn't considered that for years and years. Now the memory came unbidden:
"Come on, V. I want to show you something." Mommy holds out her hand and Genevieve puts her hand in her mother's, wondering when her hands will be that graceful.
They walk down the street and into a part of town Genevieve has never seen before, except through the window of a car. Mommy always tells her to keep the door locked going through this part of town, because it isn't good. Genevieve wants to ask her mother why she's taking them there if it isn't good, but she doesn't. She trusts Mommy.
Mommy ignores the stares they get, but Genevieve can't. She holds on tighter to Mommy's hand and looks up at her in askance. Mommy smiles reassuringly and Genevieve is reassured. Mommy won't let anything happen to her, she knows.
They reach a river and walk along its bank for what feels like a long, long time. Genevieve is tired, but she doesn't want to admit it and maybe disappoint Mommy. Mommy knows Genevieve is tired though, and says they're getting close.
And then Mommy stops in a clearing by a bend in the river. There are big trees and brightly-colored berries on bushes and the grass is soft and very green, like the lawn of the man across the street who yells when Genevieve picks his flowers. There is a ring of mushrooms.
"Stand there," Mommy says, pointing to the mushroom ring, "but don't let go of my hand. It's a faerie ring,and if you go there without a grown-up they'll steal you away and I'll never see you again."
"Why should I stand there, then?" Genevieve asks. She doesn't want to be stolen away and never see Mommy again.
"Because if you make a wish while standing in a faerie ring it'll come true," Mommy tells her. "I'll hold your hand so the faeries can't take you. I'll protect you, baby."
"Okay."
Genevieve steps carefully into the faerie ring and closes her eyes. She squeezes Mommy's hand and wishes: I wish I had a pony.
When she opens her eyes, her wish hasn't come true, but Mommy is smiling expectantly.
"Did you get your wish?"
"I don't know yet," Genevieve lies. "What are we having for dinner?"
Mommy tells her spaghetti and Genevieve smiles. "I got my wish."
Genevieve shook herself out of her recollections. Had she really begun lying to her mother so young? What a horrible child she was! She couldn't be much of a person if she was lying as a five year old. No wonder she was doing so badly with Dragul.
Thinking of Dragul sent pangs of guilt through her stomach. She shouldn't have sent Dragul off on her own. Anything could happen to her. Dragul didn't know enough about this world.
Before she even made the decision consciously, Genevieve was on her feet and walking home. The walk home was shorter than it had been when she was five. Her legs were longer and home was much closer. But not close enough. Dragul could be in real trouble.
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 8:31 am
Dragul waited for the bus after the movie let out, standing in the bus shelter. The bus shelter was covered with posters advertising movies. If she worked really hard, Dragul could read the titles of the movies, but the dates attached to them meant nothing to her. She couldn't tell if they were new releases or old ones.
She was glad that she hovered, because it seemed every surface was stained with something. While she didn't mind stains of mysterious substances Genevieve would be even more unhappy if Dragul allowed something to happen to this skirt.
Feeling kind of low, she pryed at one of the hardened lumps of gum on the bench beside her. When she'd gotten it off the odd plastic bench she studied it for a moment, speculative, and then, with a furtive glance around, she popped it in her mouth. She'd always wondered about the gum people left around like that.
It had absolutely no flavor, and it was hard to chew at first, but it got softer. She didn't think she cared for it very much. She spat it back out and realized that someone was watching her. She turned around and saw a tall man with bushy blond hair staring at her. She smiled, but then stopped herself, remembering that her smiles were not very pretty. Not like Genevieve's were.
The man smiled back. His smile wasn't attractive either. His teeth were crooked and some were missing or discolored. Dragul looked away quickly, hoping that the exchange would end there. She pretended to study the bus schedule, but it made no sense to her. There were numbers and things. She didn't know numbers yet. She was still working on learning letters.
"Did you miss the bus?" he asked. His voice was not pleasant.
"Not yet."
"'Cause the last bus left twenty minutes ago. Need a ride? There's no one else around."
"No, thank you. I'm fine. I live close by."
This was nothing like true, but she didn't want to get into a car with that man. He made her supremely uncomfortable. Unbidden, memories of Genevieve being attacked in an alley came to her and she found herself getting very, very angry. For all she knew, this unpleasant man could be one of those men.
Dragul would rather be angry than afraid.
With a wordless shriek, she flew at the man, her hands twisted into claws and her teeth bared. She tore at any part of him she could reach, using her fingernails like talons and biting him hard. He screamed, but it made no difference. As he had pointed out, there was no one around.
When she was finished, he lay completely still and there was blood in her mouth and under her fingernails. Scared, Dragul fled, leaving the scene as quickly as she could.
She didn't stop until she got home, where she paused outside the door. She had lost Genevieve's purse somewhere along the way. Maybe when she attacked the man? Would someone find him and blame Genevieve for what she had done? She needed to get help.
Performing an action equivilant to running, she raced to Andrew's house and floated to the window she knew was outside his bedroom. She banged furiously on the glass. When he finally woke and came to the window, his face mirrored shock.
He opened the window, looking at her in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" Andrew asked sleepily.
"I did something really bad, and Genevieve might get in trouble for it," she gasped. It had been exhausting to go so fast for so long.
"Tell me everything." He was suddenly wide awake.
So she did. When she had finished, Andrew's eyes were wide, but he nodded. "Let's go."
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Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 6:53 am
Dragul and Andrew drove back to the movie theatre. The man was gone, but neither one of them knew how to tell if he had left under his own steam or if he had been removed. Both knew, however, that it wasn't a good thing that he was gone. Not a good thing at all.
"What do we do?" Dragul asked, her muddy eyes wide with fear. This was so completely out of her depth.
"Look for the purse," Andrew said.
If Dragul had thought to look, or notice, she would have seen that he was scared, really scared, and that he kept glancing at her bloody face and hands. She would have noticed that his hands were shaking. But she didn't notice any of this. She was too scared herself.
They scoured the immediate area and saw no sign of the purse.
"What now?"
"Now? We re-trace your...er...steps home."
"By car?" Dragul asked hopefully. She was so tired.
"Sorry. On foot. We have to make sure we don't accidentally miss it. Anyway, did you follow a rode home?"
Dragul shook her head. She had taken the most direct route, straight through town. She couldn't suppress her sigh though. It seemed like the night would be interminable, and she guessed that adrenaline wouldn't sustain her all the way through.
"Don't worry, Gulie. Something'll turn up," Andrew said.
He didn't sound very much like his usually confident, competent self as he said this, but Dragul was desperate to hear good news and willed herself to believe him. He had used the nickname he'd made for her. That had to be a good sign. Right?
They walked all the way back to the house, following Dragul's route exactly, and when they got there what they saw was not good at all. What they saw was a police car with flashing lights and an officer walking up to the house.
Andrew turned to Dragul and said, "Stay here." They were across the street yet.
"But what's going on?"
"Nothing good. I'm going to see if I can find out what's going on."
From his expression, Dragul guessed that he already knew what was going on, and was about to do something potentially stupid. That's how Genevieve would put it: "potentially stupid." Genevieve always sounded so smart when she said things like that.
Andrew crossed the street and went up to the officer, who didn't look happy to have Andrew involved in this at all. Dragul wanted to go closer, so that she could hear, but Andrew had told her to stay where she was, and she was scared enough to actually listen to him. Ordinarily she would have crept closer, but she couldn't make herself move.
Andrew came back glaring at his cell phone. When he reached Dragul he shook his head.
"I can't do anything here. They're going to take her into custody and ask her a few questions. And she's not answering the phone."
"Maybe she's not home. She left before me."
"That's not good either, exactly."
"No?"
"No."
"What'll happen to her?"
"Nothing. Don't worry. Go back to my house. The window's still open. I think it's best you stay with me for the time being."
"But what about Genevieve?"
"There's nothing we can do. I'm sorry. Let's go."
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Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 7:30 am
Genevieve came home to find police cars parked in front of her house and wondered if there was a drug bust or something going on somewhere in the neighborhood. It wouldn't have surprised her, particularly, though she'd never heard of drugs being trafficked in her part of the neighborhood. Things did change. She hoped that Dragul wouldn't be too worried by the lights and sirens.
She walked up to the back door of the house and let herself in, calling softly - for Dragul had excellent hearing and there was no need for her to speak much above her normal speaking voice to be heard: "Dragul? Are you home yet?"
When no one answered she assumed that the corsea had decided to stay at the movies longer or had fallen asleep there, or something. It was mildly worrisome, but there was nothing she could do about it. Dragul would find her way home, and if she was still in a bad mood Genevieve didn't want to go looking for her.
She walked into the front room and was more than a little startled to find four policemen standing there, watching the front door intently. It seemed none of them had heard her entry or her calling to Dragul. Perhaps it was the earpieces they wore. Maybe someone was speaking through them and they weren't listening to their surroundings. It didn't seem like very good policemanship to Genevieve, but then, she wasn't a policeman, so she wouldn't know.
"Excuse me, officers, but what are you doing here?"
They all jumped and turned, training their weapons on her. Immediately Genevieve backed up several steps, her hands held up in a universal "I'm unarmed - don't shoot" signal. Oddly, they kept their guns aimed at her. She tried not to let her unease creep into her voice.
"Do you gentlemen have the correct house?"
"Are you Genevieve Avril Dulac?"
"I am, but what's going on?"
"We'd like you to come down to the station and answer a few questions, if you would, please, Miss Dulac."
"Certainly. What's going on?" It seemed that they were not going to tell her that. She couldn't remember if they were bound by law to do so or not, but she thought they were. "Don't you have to tell me?"
"Only if we arrest you. And we haven't done that. Yet. We're just asking you to answer some questions for us."
Genevieve wanted to flee quickly. Since she wasn't under arrest, it couldn't be considered evading arrest, so she wouldn't be compounding whatever it was they officers were here for.
"Why are you pointing guns at me, then?"
"Come with us, please."
Genevieve allowed herself to be led to a police car and then driven away with the siren wailing. If she hadn't been afraid before, she certainly was then, and something told her this was only the beginning.
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Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 8:06 am
At the station, Genevieve was taken to one of the rooms where they questioned people. The room looked exactly like the ones they showed in movies, small and sparse and lit with weak fluorescent bulbs. She already hated it there, and as the night dragged on and they kept asking her the same questions over and over she came to hate it more and more.
"Please state your full name and date of birth for the record."
"Genevieve Avril Dulac. April sixteenth, nineteen eighty eight."
"Where were you this evening between the hours of seven o'clock and eleven o'clock?"
"I was at home, reading, and then I went out to this place by the river where I go when I'm in a bad mood."
"Uh huh. Where is this place?"
"It's by the bend in the river, about a mile west of my house."
"And why were you in a bad mood?"
"I had a fight with one of my friends."
"What is your friend's name?"
"Dragul." Genevieve wished she hadn't brought Dragul into this. The goblin corsea was too difficult to explain.
"Does...uh...Dragul have a last name?"
"Not that I know of."
"Are you good friends?"
"Yes."
"You don't know your friend's last name."
"No, officer."
"Don't you think that's a little strange?"
"Not really. You meet people online and you never know anything about them at all. It's not strange not to know a person's last name."
"I think it's strange."
"That's your opinion, and you're entitled to it, thanks to the laws of the land we live in." Genevieve had no idea why she had said that. She knew this session was being recorded, and if she was difficult it could be problematic at a later date.
"Hmph. So, what were you and Dragul fighting about?"
"She wanted to go to the movies and I didn't."
"So? Couldn't she go on her own?"
"Not really. She doesn't know her way around very well."
"There are buses that will take you right to the theatre."
"She doesn't know how to read a bus schedule."
"Really. That's really weird, you know."
"They don't use public transportation where she's from."
"Where is that?"
"You won't believe me."
"Try me."
"Another world called the Underground."
"Is that a club or something?"
"No."
"What is it, then? Where is it?"
"It's another world, and it's not on this one. That's really all I know about it."
"Do you do drugs, Genevieve?"
"No, officer."
"Would you submit to a blood test?"
"If you feel it's necessary, officer. What am I here for?"
"A man was found dead by the bus stop by the movie theatre and your purse was beside him."
Genevieve blanched. She knew what must have happened then and couldn't believe it. Dragul wouldn't kill a person. She wouldn't. She had killed a mouse once, true, but that had been different. She had been trying to hunt, and she had felt sick later. Dragul wouldn't hunt a human being. It was simply not possible.
"What's the matter? You look pale."
"You just told me you found a dead man with my purse in a place I haven't been for four days."
"Has your purse gone missing?"
"Not to my knowledge." Genevieve wondered if it would have been easier if she had said yes. Then they might have just assumed that the man had stolen it and later died an unrelated death.
"Then how do you suppose it came to be at the bus stop?"
"I don't know. Someone else had it and left it there?"
"Like who? You say you haven't lost your purse, so you must know where it is, and who had it."
"Officer, I didn't kill that man, if that's what you want to know. I know nothing about it. I truly was in the clearing by the river bend."
"Can you prove that? Can anyone attest to your being there?"
"No, officer. I'm the only person who knows about the place, as far as I know. I've never seen another person there, anyway." Genevieve really didn't like the way this was going.
"Who had your purse?"
"I couldn't say." Now she was forced to lie, or at least tell partial truths, and she wasn't comfortable with that.
"Couldn't, or wouldn't? Is it possible that you're covering for someone? Your friend Dragul, maybe?"
"It's possible, officer, as all things are, but it would be tremendously stupid of me to do so." She hoped he wouldn't notice that she hadn't actually answered the question properly.
"Then, if you can't indicate anyone else who might have done the deed, and with your purse having been found at the scene, we're going to have to place you under arrest. I'm sorry, Miss Dulac."
"I...I understand, officer."
"Miss Dulac," the officer said, sounding sympathetic as they handcuffed her, "you don't have to go to jail for someone else."
Genevieve didn't answer, and was led away. She had never been so ashamed in her life, though she had not committed any crime at all, just being led away in handcuffs was enough. She didn't cry, however, until she reached her cell where, fortunately, she was alone.
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Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 8:14 am
Genevieve had been at the police station for four days. Andrew had done everything he could for her, Dragul knew, but there was not much that he could do. He did call her job and let them know that Genevieve would not be able to come into work for several days, but he wouldn't say more than that, even when Mr. Freare tried to bully him into saying more.
Dragul was jealous that Andrew got to visit Genevieve, but he told Dragul that everyone was scrutinized very closely when they went to a police station, and that someone would surely notice her difference. While he had grown accustomed to her, few others would be, and she could be in danger if she went into the police station. Besides, from what Genevieve told him, the police knew of Dragul's existence and would like to make her a second suspect in the murder.
"Why don't you let them have her? She did kill him?" Andrew asked when he visited Genevieve.
"Would you let the police take me if I had killed him and it was in your power to prevent it?"
"That's different. I love you. She's not even human."
"Andrew, she's a great deal more human than a lot of the people in here, and she couldn't survive in here. Think of how different she is. They'd want to take her away and study her."
"Maybe that's best. She might be truly dangerous, you know. Didn't you tell me she killed a mouse once?"
"For God's sake, Andrew. I ran over a squirrel once during driver's ed. Does that make me dangerous?"
"Behind the wheel of a car perhaps," Andrew teased. "But it's not the same thing, and you know it."
Genevieve sighed. Andrew tried to understand, she knew, but it frustrated him that she wouldn't do anything to get herself out of prison, and that she asked him to keep Dragul safe.
"Genevieve, I'm sorry. But I hate seeing you in here. I worry about you. You're not bad-looking, you know."
"This is not a prison movie, Andrew. I have a cell to myself because I'm a suspected murderer, and no one has tried to do anything. No one cares what I'm here for. They just think it's a crime that a girl who's five foot eight can't play basketball."
"V -"
"Andrew, I know this sucks, but there's not enough evidence to indict me. I have heaps of reasonable doubt."
"Do you even have a lawyer?"
"A state-appointed one."
"God, V. That's like a death sen...tance. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Andrew. I know what's at stake. I was asked to protect Dragul, though, and having her taken away and studied is not protecting her. I couldn't do that to her."
Three days later, when Genevieve had been in prison for a week, a guard came to get her.
"What is it?" she asked.
"You're free to go."
"What? Why?"
"The real murderer confessed. And let me say, it's a real weird one. It's got green skin and fins and s**t. Doesn't even have legs. It's not even human. But, hey, what do you care? You're out!"
The guard gave her a smile which she couldn't bring herself to return. What had Dragul done?
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 7:24 am
Genevieve went to Andrew's house as soon as she was released, but Andrew wasn't home. His mother was. And that wasn't exactly a good thing, because his mother wanted to know every detail of what had been going on in Genevieve's life since the last time they saw each other. Genevieve gave her the Good Parts Version. She really didn't need to know everything. Like that Genevieve had been arrested on the suspicion of murder. Or that she and Andrew had sex. Or that she'd been fired from her last job because they thought she was a thief.
Mrs. Gaines, however, was satisfied with the version of events that Genevieve gave her. She quizzed her on Andrew's odd habits, and if Genevieve knew anything about them, and Genevieve had to confess to ignorance. She hadn't realized Andrew had odd habits. Apparently he had. Many, as far as his mother was concerned. She was truly grateful when the interview was over.
She went to work next and explained very honestly what had happened. They were actually very understanding and told her that, in the future, she might do better not to make friends with murderers, but that it was hardly her fault. They weren't going to fire her. The diner might have, if they hadn't already. It was nice, Genevieve thought, to be trusted, and to have people think well of you just because you made a good pot of coffee in the morning without being asked.
Finally, as a last resort, she went home. She didn't want to go home, knowing that when she got there Dragul wouldn't be there, and that it would be her fault that Dragul wouldn't be there. She didn't know exactly what had happened, but there was little doubt in her mind that if she hadn't left Dragul alone, she would never have killed anyone. There was also little doubt in her mind that Dragul really had killed the man. She loved Dragul dearly, as something between a friend and a pet, but she knew Dragul had done it.
She went through the next several days in something like a daze. She had failed to look after Dragul, failed to raise her well. It was her fault. It was something she just knew, and couldn't make herself forget. Andrew couldn't either, though he tried to dissuade her of these notions. She appreciated his attempts, but it was her fault, and that was that. It was something, like her mother's cancer, that she'd have to live with, whether she liked it or not.
She kept hoping, though, that something would happen as she followed the story in the newspapers. They wouldn't let her visit Dragul, though both of them asked to see each other. It had been decided that Dragul was some sort of alien, potentially dangerous, and so, though she would not be put on trial for killing the man, she was still imprisoned in a research facility where they did God-only-knew what to her. That hurt Genevieve the worst of all.
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2007 6:36 am
Dragul had never been so tired, or so terrified, in her life to date. She had turned herself in to the police in hopes of getting Genevieve released, knowing that it was wrong to let Genevieve take the blame for the murder she had committed. She had been afraid then, too. She had been afraid that the violent urges she felt might return when the police handcuffed her, commenting on the color of her skin and her fins. They thought they were cosmetic.
But that illusion did not persist for very long. They learned as soon as they took away her clothes to dress her in the orange jumpsuit prisoners wore that she had no lower extremities, no apendages below her hips. Then the name-calling started. She had been afraid, but a part of her mind sensed and reassured her that the people were more afraid of her, and that all she had to do was remain still and calm, because to commit any further action to frighten them would be a mistake. It was like Genevieve's voice spoke directly in her mind.
She had asked to see Genevieve. She asked quite frequently. When they wouldn't allow that, she asked to see Andrew Gaines, and that was forbidden, too. They kept her in what they called Solitary. They told her it was for her own good, that the other prisoners would have killed her. She was so ashamed, she wasn't sure if that wasn't a bad idea. Not only had she killed a man, but she had allowed Genevieve to take the blame for it. In the movies, the people who killed people were the bad guys, and they deserved what happened to them.
The idea that she was a bad guy was what made her keep her temper when the guards said cruel things to and about her, but their words were hurtful. Genevieve had warned her countless times that human beings were cruel and that if they ever discovered how different she was, they would turn that cruelty on her, but she had not realized how cruel they could be. She was tormented night and day.
One guard, in particular, made it his personal occupation to make her life miserable. He jabbed at her with the stick he always carried, and when he delivered her food he would grab her tentacle-ribbons. Once he let himself into the Solitary cell and he beat her and abused her, calling her alien filth. She bit him hard enough to draw blood and he withdrew, but her life was even more wretched when it came out how his hand had gotten injured.
Apparently her bite had turned putrid almost immediately. She didn't know the word putrid, but she knew what had happened from the way he smelled. The wound was festering, rotting. That was when they finally called in the scientists. Dragul had never seen a science fiction film, or even one of the horror films dealing with aliens or mad scientists, so she didn't know what to expect. She had not imagined that the scientists would be so cold. Their cold neutrality was almost as bad as the hostility she had received from the police.
The scientists took her away, taking care only to speak of her as though she were a genderless thing, an It. They never allowed their excitement with her discovery to show on their faces when they dealt with her, and their lack of expression was unnerving and frightening to Dragul, who was used to seeing some sort of facial animation, even when it was unfriendly, as with the policemen.
The scientists poked her and prodded her and took note of everything she did or said, both with video and audio recordings. They did not seem particularly surprised by her ability to articulate, but they did not listen to what she said to them either, as her words were mostly questions:
"Where am I?"
"Why are you doing this?"
"Who are you?"
"What's going on?"
"When can I see Genevieve?"
They ignored all of her questions as though they were little more than white noise, though in private, in their coffee lounge, they speculated about Genevieve. They knew she had been Dragul's keeper, but the police wouldn't give her any more information about her, such as where she lived. As far as the police were concerned, the case was out of their hands once the scientists pronounced Dragul an extra terrestrial.
She had once asked Genevieve why she prayed to God and Genevieve had answered that God had created her, and the world they lived in, and so he was the highest power. So Dragul reasoned that the Goblin King must be her God. He created her, after all. And, alone and cold - she was always cold, it seemed - Dragul would cry and shiver and wonder if the Goblin King would send help for his creatures, or if he ceased to care about them once he sent them out, unaware that Genevieve had always had similar questions about her God.
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Posted: Thu Aug 30, 2007 5:57 am
After the initial tests and psychological profiling, the scientists began other experiments. How she reacted to heat, to the cold, to bright light and darkness. What sorts of foods did what to her. Dragul hated it. She hated being treated like an object. She missed Genevieve so much.
The scientists could have tested her forever, seeking out new reactions to different stimuli, but they made a fatal error, one which Dragul couldn't have warned them of, even had she been inclined to offer them any aid, which she certainly was not. They affixed electrodes to her and began to study the effects of varying degrees of electric current on her.
At first, Dragul was just mildly irritated, but then she felt something similar to the nausea and discomfort she had experienced the day she met Lysander, when she grew into a corsea. She was going to age again, and because it was so close to last time, she suspected that it had something to do with the electricity.
With great force of will, she held off the change until the scientists had finished and returned her to her cell. Then, when she fell asleep and her guard was down, she changed. She knew that their cameras would see it, but she was asleep, and didn't care. Besides which, she hurt. The voltage had become quite high near the end.
When she woke, she was still in her cell, but she was different, as she had known she would be. She was also ravenous, and under intense scrutiny. The scientists had come while she slept to stare at her new form. She wished she had clothing, but that had been taken from her almost at once. She was not human, and so had no need for human clothing, the scientists reasoned.
"I want to go home," she whispered.
Something happened. Briefly, her surroundings blurred and changed.
"I want to go home," she repeated.
Again her surroundings changed, but they were not her home, she realized, but the other world she had met Lysander in. That wasn't where she wanted to go, but if it was away from here, she'd accept it.
"I want to go home," she said for a final time, and this time it took.
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