Fiction River: Unnatural Worlds (12 page)

The first time she’d heard the word had been
just before Mardi Gras, when the entire town along with the nation
had been engrossed in the disaster in San Francisco. The aircraft
carrier
Jefferson
had struck the south pillar of the Golden
Gate Bridge, setting off a cascade of explosions and destruction
that eventually caused the collapse of the bridge’s roadway into
the ocean. The carrier itself, disabled by the destruction of its
command bridge, had then slammed into Alcatraz Island. Hundreds
were dead or missing, and even months later, the
Jefferson
remained beached on its side in the bay.

Locally, however, the talk had been about
someone seen on TV in the moments after the disaster: George
Robichaud, the patriarch of one of the founding families of
Rencontere more than two hundred years earlier. Missing for more
than 40 years, helicopter cameras had filmed him lying in a young
girl’s arms, both of them marooned on the island of asphalt still
clinging to the north tower of The Golden Gate Bridge, his hands
cradling her face. National speculation focused on who these two
survivors of the disaster might be. Speaking something to her
before he passed out, his words were uncertain to a nation looking
for something hopeful out of national tragedy.

In Nexus, however, there was no debate about
what he’d said: “Tell them: The Raconteur has returned”—and within
weeks he had. Still in a coma from his injuries, he was now a
patient at Recontere Hospital, where from the moment of his
arrival, a vigil had been going on outside his window. At first
hundreds of people with candles and now just a few, every night
there was someone outside his window. Led always by the town
elders, the last of The Storied.

Ashley had been there several times, always
with her Maw Maw. Each time Ashley wanted to ask, “Why are we
here?” And each time she would stop, once again seeing that look of
longing and pain that came whenever her grandmother talked about
her history or that of Recontere and Nexus. It was the look Ashley
had seen this morning, too, though this latest time it seemed
tinged with something different. Ashley wanted to call it hope, but
knowing the misery the topic caused her Maw Maw, she had a hard
time believing tha—

“Ashley!” Niki and Portia bellowed together
from their seats in the stands. Their make-up shaded from a
melt-off, their sneers were symmetric, as well. The rest of the
squad now forced to wait for Ashley in the heat, it was almost as
if the captains were dragging it out on purpose. “Get your furry
ass over here!”

Enviously, Ashley eyed Niki opening a chilled
bottle of water, already knowing it wasn’t for her. It was for
Princess, Niki’s perpetual accessory and pet Chihuahua. Four pounds
of constant motion and urine, the last thing the dog needed was
more fluids.

Snapped out of her reverie, any thoughts of
hope—for anything—were snuffed out by Niki’s next words. “OK,
nap-time/lap-time is over: Get your head on.”

“I’m really not supposed to wear it when it’s
this hot,” Ashley said. “It’s 40 degrees warmer in there and—”

“Are you saying you don’t want to be the
mascot?” Niki asked, sounding clearly hopeful. “Because I’m sure
there are a lot of other fat girls that would love to hang out with
the cheerleaders if you can’t hack it.”

“No, I can hack it,” Ashley said, refusing to
give in. “If I could just get some water.”

“Fine, but take Princess with you,” Niki
said, pointing down at the small Chihuahua at her feet. “And don’t
you dare drink before she does. Now get your head on!”

Putting on her head and taking Princess by
the leash, Ashley thought it ironic that Niki was giving her
control of the dog. Vision in the suit was terrible; in an effort
to make it look like a real tiger they’d made the vision and
comfort of the person inside secondary. Ashley was as likely to
step on the dog as she was get it water, and while that would be a
bad thing for her cheerleading career, it made her smile
nonetheless. As many times as the dog had peed on squad members’
personal things, it would be divine justice. Not that she really
wanted to kill the dog, but she had to admit Princess was far more
suited to satisfying gator snack than ideal pet.

After getting water for them both, Ashley
returned Niki’s pet/accessory to Niki’s shaded spot in the stands
and once again took her place at the end of the cheerleading line.
Not considered part of their official routines, Ashley was still
expected to stand there, in formation. It was another way of
torturing Ashley. She knew that Niki and Portia would never let her
perform at an actual game. No, Ashley would be relegated to stands
to be punched, prodded and kicked by fans of the opposite team and
by children from her own town.

Once again lulled into boredom by the need to
just stand there in the heat, Ashley couldn’t help but think about
Madison, Marc and Destiny and the rumors that clearly were making
their way through town. All around fourteen years old, each was
about to enter their freshman year at NHS. That was really all they
had in common—that and Farallon Robbins.

Farallon was the daughter of George
Robichaud, and why she had an Americanized version of her Cajun
surname no one really knew. But when it was clear George wasn’t
going to recover quickly, George’s sister, Jenna, had flown out to
California to get Farallon and her half-brother Jayson, to bring
them back to Nexus. Both of them odd ducks out of water in the
bayous of western Louisiana, they were nevertheless making friends
quickly.

Among Farallon’s most immediate friends,
Ashley knew, were Madison, Destiny and Marc Broussard. Not only
spending a lot of time with her, they had been spending a lot of
time with The Raconteur himself. Not because of him, per se; he was
still in a coma. But Farallon had allowed them into her father’s
hospital room, something no other non-family members were allowed
to do. Maybe they’d caught some weird disease from him, and the old
people in town were letting their imaginations get the best of
them.

Ashley dismissed that thought quickly,
however: Her good friend Drew, along with Sabrina Thibodeaux, and
even Jayson and Farallon Robbins themselves, weren’t the subject of
any rumors whatsoever. Wouldn’t they have been affected as
well?

“Fuzz-buns!” Portia screamed at her,
interrupting her thoughts. “Why aren’t you stepping left with
us?!”

Immediately, of course, Ashley had no good
answer, though fairly quickly one presented itself. In the heat her
plastic feet had stuck fast into the track. And nothing she could
do could move them. “My feet won’t move. I seemed to have melted
into the track.”

“And this is my problem, how?”

“Well, you could help me,” Ashley said, and
before even thinking went on, “isn’t that what a captain does?”

“Listen, fatty-fur,” Niki said, now clearly
asserting her authority. “When you can jump higher, move faster and
cheer better than anyone out here, you can be the captain and
decide what one does. But until you feel like officially
challenging me for the job, don’t tell what my job is. Got it?”

“Yes…” Ashley said, still very mindful of her
predicament. “But could I please get someone’s help getting
unstuck?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Portia
said, clearly having no intention of returning the favor.
“Princess, go help her.”

Watching the dog, Ashley was at once
impressed and horrified: Almost on cue the dog lifted her leg and
peed on Ashley’s leg. Still stuck to the track and basically blind,
Ashley could do nothing but listen to Princess’s collar bell jingle
as she felt a warm, wet feeling crawl down her left ankle. Getting
more embarrassed by the minute, suddenly being Madison and forced
to wear a burqa around didn’t seem quite so bad; at least as a
vampire she’d have a reason for things to suck.

Finding herself laughing inside the costume
at her own terrible pun, Ashley once again was glad she had Maw Maw
in her life. Deciding to make the best of it and not give Niki any
satisfaction, Ashley refused to move even the slightest. Instead,
she took the offensive—of sorts: “I’m impressed, Niki. How’d you
train your dog to do that?”

“I didn’t train him at all,” Niki said to
Ashley, as if that meant more for her brains than the dog’s. “It’s
just a matter of taste I guess, and I must say I’m surprised.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I would have thought you didn’t have
any,” Niki said, once again staring at the dog. “But clearly
Princess likes something about you…”

Having no idea what Niki meant, Ashley still
couldn’t see what was going on through the tiny eyes of the
costume. Soon, however, she got her answer as she heard a jingling
collar and felt a warm trickle down her other ankle.

***

Dawn arrived early the next morning
,
Ashley thought to no one in particular as she awoke the next day.
This was good, as it was a pretty stupid thought. Cracking her eyes
open, however, she had some idea of where the thought had come
from: She could see the sun rising outside her window.

A true believer in the value of summer
vacation, Ashley was lucky if she rose before lunch, much less
breakfast. And yet there it was: Dawn breaking over the trees—and
the ruins of the rice co-op. It had burned down less than a year
ago, and true to Nexus form it was still a debris-filled heap, with
the emergency fencing even having fallen down in places. She heard
it made a nice homeless shelter.

This morning, however, it made a nice
silhouette for the oranges and pinks of dawn, and as the ambient
light crept through the oak tree outside her window she could even
see a couple of robins high in their nest. She had to admit, there
might be something to this morning thing.

Stretching her arms out, Ashley was surprised
they didn’t ache. (By the time Autumn and Kayla had finished
yanking her out of the asphalt yesterday, Ashley was surprised her
fingers were still connected to her wrists.) More, Ashley was taken
aback at the sight of her arms: They were furry.

That was a first: She was so tired last night
she’d fallen asleep in the costume. Except that made no sense. Her
Maw Maw had peeled her out of the costume.

Confused, Ashley tried to clear her head by
rubbing her eyes. Again, shock: Not only had Maw Maw never gotten
her out of the costume, Ashley had actually fallen asleep with the
head on.

What the hell?

Sitting up now in bed so she could get the
head off, she gently tugged on the ears and muzzle to make sure she
wouldn’t damage it any more than she must already have. (She could
not imagine how many laps she might get if Niki and Portia could
tell she’d slept in the costume.) Not even budging, however, Ashley
found herself tugging harder and harder until she found she was
actually hurting herself.

What the hell?

Deciding she’d better get to her mirror,
Ashley swung her legs out of bed and jumped onto the floor—and
nearly bounced out of the room. Crashing into her bedroom door, she
heard a sickening crack as her shoulder crashed into the hardwood
frame next to the doorknob. Pushing herself off the floor, she
expected to find her collarbone broken. Instead, she found the
doorjamb shattered and splintered, and as she rose to a standing
position she found no aches whatsoever. Even the pains from
yesterday’s miserable practice were gone.

Making her way slowly to her full-length
mirror, Ashley stopped to look at herself and saw what she
expected—and what she could not have imagined. She was in the
costume all right, head-to-toe. But it wasn’t a costume anymore, it
was her.

She had become the tiger.

Opening her mouth to scream, Ashley could
hear her voice coming out; it sounded the same as it ever had. But
where there used to be a mascot’s black fabric void, there was now
a tongue and a tiger’s teeth to match. And now, once again looking
at herself in the mirror, Ashley could see that where a mascot had
cold, plastic eyes, she still had hers: green and deep.

She definitely owed Kayla and Autumn an
apolog—

CRASH!

Before Ashley could even think about it, she
had suddenly sprung sideways and out through her bedroom window.
Shards of glass bouncing easily off her fur, she found herself
flying into the branches of the oak tree outside. Feeling
completely in control of her body while feeling no control of her
urges, she found herself circling and climbing the trunk all at
once, madly moving towards something. And then she saw it—and then
she didn’t.

Like popcorn from a bag, Ashley began
mindlessly crunching before she even realized what she was doing.
Finding herself actually licking her paws, she decided chewed robin
was a lot like Maw Maw’s coffee: Good to the last drop. It did not,
Ashley noted bemusedly, taste like chicken.

Almost nauseated, and yet feeling very
satisfied with herself, Ashley moved back down the tree and pounced
back into her bedroom. Sitting now on her haunches, she gazed at
herself again in the mirror, this time a robin’s carcass hanging
out of her mouth. A third errant foot sticking out of her teeth,
she knew she’d eaten more than one. Transfixed, she didn’t even
notice her Maw Maw’s reflection materialize in the mirror until Maw
Maw was completely in sight. Spinning around, Ashley couldn’t even
begin to think of what to say—and she didn’t have to.

“
Oh, Cherie
!” Maw Maw said, tears in
her eyes, a broad smile on her face. “
Vomment ça vas
?”

“How am I feeling?” Ashley asked. “That’s all
you have to say?! I’m a tiger! I just leapt out the window, ate a
bird family, and then jumped back in! Doesn’t that bother you?”

“I never liked robins, anyway,” Maw Maw said,
her quiet voice beginning to calm Ashley in spite of herself.
“
Vomment ça vas
?”