Jack James and the Call of the Tanakee (2 page)

BOOK: Jack James and the Call of the Tanakee
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“My father is hurt, isn’t he?”

“We must continue. We must go. You must live,” Orzabal pleaded. “Kubi, do not stop now. You must live.”

“But my Father!”

“He wants you to live. He sacrificed himself so that you would.”

“NO!”

“Kubi, listen. You must survive!”

The city walls behind them began to fall inward. The very metropolis was crashing down onto itself. Kubi didn’t care what Orzabal said. He had to help his father.

“I’m going back!”

“No! Wait!” Orzabal stopped him. “I’ll go! Get out of here!”

Kubi didn’t have the chance to argue. Orzabal left him in a cloud of dust, straight to the city entrance, now not much more than a mound of debris. Kubi wanted to follow, and did. For two steps. Then someone grabbed him up and carried him from the battle, from the destruction, from his father—and his protector.

“NO!” Kubi let out all his pain, all his loss, all his emotions in one final cry, knowing his protector, his father and the apparatus were all lost.

 

TERESA EXHALED UNTIL she had no breath remaining in her lungs. She watched while brick and mortar and wood, as if by some unseen hands, built up piece by piece, until four solid walls hid away the mass of invading serpents, concealed the Tigris valley, and blocked Kubi from view as he sobbed on the mountainside. All of so-called reality bounced back into place when she closed the storybook, and Kid Castle, inside Winmart Food Store, in the town of Willow, Oregon, once again encompassed the storyteller and her bedazzled audience. 

Before her were twenty-three pairs of wide, motionless eyes, along with twenty-three wide, motionless mouths. Each and every soul inside Kid Kastle had been transported to the sleepy dream realm where her stories became so real that every smell, every sound, every touch became truth. Each and every soul was convinced indeed, save for one strong-willed individual, a boy no older than six, red-haired and freckle-faced and obviously suffering from hay fever.

“Did that
really
happen?” he crossed his arms and sniffled.

Teresa cleared her throat. “Children? Did that really happen?”

A little girl with pigtails and braces nodded with conviction.

“Of course it happened. We all saw it. Right, guys?”

“YEAH” the entire audience erupted. Well, not the
entire
audience.

“Oh yeah?” the boy held his convictions firm. “I don’t believe it!”

Teresa leaned and captured him with her enchanting smile. “Oh, you
will
believe, young man. You
will
believe!”

TWO

“DAVOS! YOU FOOL! Is there no limit to your incompetence!”

Davos felt a stinging slap across his face. He wanted to change out of his human appearance, yet whenever
Her Majesty
held council, she demanded they all remain in this repulsive form. Something about the way it made her feel, she once had said. It disgusted him.

“What was that?” she bellowed. “I heard you think that! What disgusts you?”

He kept his head down.

“That boy and his Tanakee protector disgust me, that’s what.”

“Good answer,” she said. Her malice was palpable. “You’ve made a mockery of the Nagas and all we’ve accomplished on Earth—in the entire universe, for that matter! Allowing those creatures to live. And allowing the True Soul to gain control of his Eteea machine…absolute stupidity!”

Another blow across his face. Good thing it was only a disguise, a shell of his true self.

“All is well, my queen. I have the humans under control, and those silly little creatures will be nothing but a blight in the history of our great, new realm of Essinis.”

“Essinis will have no chance if we don’t destroy that boy. That means destroying his power protector also.”

“I know that.”

“Silence!” she gave him yet another lash, this time to his ‘chest,’ a location slightly more vulnerable than the cheek. She knew his weaknesses well. “It’s perplexing to me. You say the Tanakee need to be eliminated, yet you didn’t do it when you got the chance. You weren’t trying to harness their Eteea powers, were you?”

“No, no of course—”

“And why not, Davos? That would have made you the most powerful of all the Nagas. Even more than me.”

“Your Grace, no…”

“LIAR!” she quaked with unmitigated rage. For a second, she let her human appearance slip and her hair, dozens upon dozens of splendidly slithering serpents, stood on end. They lunged at him, each one with the same menacing glare, and each one brandishing long, razor-sharp fangs. In that second, she let out her true nature, the real beauty Davos had always known. Neera, Queen of the Earth Realm, had forever been the fairest of the Nagas royals. Yet, lately, she insisted more and more upon hiding it behind this counterfeit human disguise. Though lovely, her natural appearance meant only one thing—she was serious.

“Correct for a change, Davos. This
is
serious. You’ve allowed the True Soul and his protector to get away. Not only that, you’ve allowed everyone in the town of Willow to see what you are, and what we Nagas are capable of. That’s unacceptable!”

“True,” he watched her reform into the likeness of a woman. Many men would have called her a knockout. Curvy, leggy, and, of course, hair the color of deep space. Her features would have landed her on any fashion magazine cover. “But you don’t need to worry about the True Soul and his protector. I’ll take care of it.”

The queen giggled, then became unyielding again.

“Davos, do you honestly think, even in your wildest dreams, I would allow you to handle this? After the treasonous act you just pulled, you’re lucky I don’t order your execution,” she paused, and a flaming red sphere flared into existence, floating above her shoulder. “The only reason I don’t is because you’re my husband,” she faced the portico overlooking her fortress in the clouds. “Whatever that means anymore. I should put you in prison, but that would signal weakness. We cannot have that. So you will live, but I’ll be watching your every move from now on, Davos.”

He nodded once more.

“And as for the True Soul and his protector,” she grinned. “I have something special planned for them. Call it my…secret weapon.”

THREE

“WELCOME TO WILLOW! Home of the boy hero Jack James! See where it all happened!”

“Step right up! Getch’er official, bona fide, rarified and certified picture of a real, honest-to-goodness Tanakee—the living teddy bear!”

“Come one, come all, see for yourself—evidence of fairies, elves and pixies! See the very sticks and stones that made up the legendary woodland creatures!”

The walk down Main Street had never been so strange. Pitchmen and street entertainers and lively displays galore. Everywhere Jack turned, he saw a likeness of someone he knew. Then he spotted—in shop windows and hanging from doorways and awnings—banners and posters of his own face. That was hard to get used to.

“Look!” Amelia tugged his arm, pointing at the Old Columbia Theatre, in the heart of town. His friend and fellow adventurer didn’t need to draw his attention to the gaudy display. He’d already seen it.

“I’m trying not to,” he glanced at the life-size cardboard cutouts. The whole gang was there, the Tribe of the Teddy Bear as they were called, with Jack and Amelia leading the crew. Worst of all, it seemed as if the artist had borrowed from the classic
Star Wars
poster. Luke standing triumphantly, pointing his light saber into the sky, and Princess Leia at his knee. Only instead of Luke, it was Jack, wielding the O/A, a dazzling gem radiating with power. And Amelia took Leia’s place, crouched beside him, concerned yet confident.

“I know. It’s horrible, isn’t it?” she smirked. “I mean, look at me. They make me look like a cowering little girl. So typical. Sickening, really.”

“I don’t know,” Jack felt himself warming up to the gaudy exhibit. “It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, sure. You
would
say that. You look fabulous. Just look at you.”

He smiled. She smacked his elbow.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Jack James. You’re called the True Soul for a reason. You’re supposed to be incorruptible.”

He sighed. “I know. It’s just…” he looked down the road, the sidewalk littered with sandwich signs and pinwheels and stuffed animals, all festive messages and sales in honor of the town’s newfound heroes.

“You didn’t think things would change this much this fast?” Amelia voiced his thoughts. They caught a clear view of the marina below, and a large sign stole Jack’s attention.
“River Dragon Tours”
it read in huge, bold, handmade letters. Underneath, in smaller print, yet still legible even from where Jack was standing, was the slogan,
‘Come see Queenie with the famous Captain Kimbo!’

   “No,” he admitted. “It’s only been two weeks and already all this? How did everybody have time for this stuff?”

“People worked night and day to make the town look like this. They all got together and did this for us.”

“They did this to make money. I guess the town’s economy needs it.”

“Hey!” a pitchman on the corner spotted Jack and Amelia. “If it isn’t the man of the hour himself! Everybody! It’s Jack James! And he’s got Amelia Klein with him!”

All of a sudden, Jack regretted walking to school instead of letting his mother drive him. A small crowd gathered. People came from inside bookstores and cafes, the kite-works and bike shops. Jack smiled and nodded and waved, but both he and Amelia quickened their paces. They knew the adoring crowd would take their whole morning.

“Hey, Jack! Way to go, buddy!”

“Jack! Come back and sign some autographs!”

He turned once they crossed the street.

“I will…after school, okay?” he said to a small sea of disappointed faces. Then something else trapped his eye. Too quick for comprehension. Somehow, though, his senses perceived it, whatever it was, standing in the group. He looked young, like Jack, but was cast completely in shadow. For a moment, Jack thought it was possibly one of his dimensional duplicates, somehow stuck in a glitch in the O/A’s omnidimensional field. Then he shook off that thought. No way.

“Come on, Jack,” Amelia yanked him hard, much harder than normal. Her rush to get out of there told him she must have seen something too. Or at least she, like him, sensed it.

 

TAKOTA DUCKED to evade the tree limb. He knew it was coming. He’d hit it so many times before, it had been committed to physical memory. Always the same thing—after the big turn and the muddy curves came the Great Maple with its excessively long branches.

He pedaled hard three times and it felt like the earth disappeared beneath him. The wind rushed through his furry mane, cooling his steamy skin, hot from the ferocity of competition, the intensity of the race. The long, straight drop seemed so steep it couldn’t possibly be navigated on a bicycle. Takota tucked his center of gravity low, angling tight to the ground and leaning into a swift power slide. Somehow he made it, and, at the bottom, paused. Only for a moment, toiling to catch his breath.

“No you don’t! You’re not gonna beat me! EVER!”

Pud’s voice made him snap into motion, pushing off and pedaling wildly, traveling deeper into the dense forest. He heard Pud cruising down the hill, kicking up gravel and dust. Coughing and spitting, the mangy Tanakee taunted ceaselessly.

“You’re just gonna lose again, so don’t get your hopes up!”

That’s what you think
, using Eteea, Takota sent a mental message. He knew Pud heard it. He could tell by Pud’s tormented groans.

Takota’s legs felt on fire. He had no time to think. The trail weaved through a tight grouping of hemlocks and firs, and he needed all of his focus for navigation. Lean left, then right. Brake slightly, but not too much. Mustn’t lose speed. Mustn’t let Pud gain on him, even an inch. Tree trunks blurred by, though it took great skill and practice to pilot his miniature bicycle at such a rapid pace.

A protruding root, one he’d seen many times, and one he kept forgetting about, seemed to pop up out of nowhere. He straightened his leg and leaned slightly, readying for the bump. When it came, he was nearly thrown off the bike. A firm grip and quick reflexes kept him on. That didn’t stop Pud from berating his performance.

“Ha! You’re screwing up, Potato! I’m coming! I’m right on your heel! Keep it up and I’ll pass you!”

“NO!” Takota clenched his teeth and pedaled harder. Wind Whisper Woods whipped past in a blur. “I’m winning this time!”

 

“ARE YOU READY for this, Jack?” Amelia looked into his eyes. He knew she was trying to get a read on him. “This is your first day of school since…well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” he tightened his lips. “It’s been two weeks, and I was starting to feel like a prisoner in my own home. I just want to have a normal life. Is that too much to ask?”

“Jack,” she gestured up the sidewalk, to the contingent of children, all of whom seemed to be waiting with baited breath for their hometown hero to step foot into the schoolyard. “I don’t think your life will be normal ever again.”

Jack kept a straight face and they walked through the metal turnstile leading into the Willow Elementary playground. It seemed the entire student body, every kid from grades one through five, and even the kindergarteners, were there, clogging the blacktop, the old tennis courts, the athletic field. To get a better view, some had climbed and sat on atop the slide, some stood at the highest point on the monkey bars, and some had even managed to get up on the basketball rims and were hanging like chimpanzees.

Jack and Amelia strode in silence. Then, all at once, the awaiting kids broke out in cheers, surrounding the pair enthusiastically, peppering them with praise and, mostly, questions.

“Jack, how did you meet Takota?”

“Amelia? Did you know this was all going to happen?”

“Jack, how does the O/A really work?”

He had no time to educate his schoolmates on the finer points of the interdimensional masterpiece, his father’s invention, the Omega/Alpha, aka the O/A. He couldn’t tell them how the machine drew power from all the infinite dimensions, the omnidimensional field, and concentrated it into one person, in effect transforming its user into a superhero. The inquiries were so numerous, and they came so fast, neither Jack nor Amelia had the chance to get a word in edgewise. One person after another, without pause, came forward to voice their thoughts. After a while, all the two could do was grin at each other and allow the information-seekers their questions.

“Amelia, do you really see people’s auras?”

“Jack, when did you first know Takota wasn’t just a teddy bear?”

The questions kept coming, and, just when it seemed there would be no end to it all, a rough, skeptical voice silenced the otherwise good-natured interviews.

“Where
is
your precious little Takota?” Dillon, speaking in his trademark rapid style, shoved aside a pair of second-graders. He squinted and studied Jack up and down, approaching carefully. Then his buddy Mike came up behind him, striding with confidence.

“Yeah, Jack,” he scowled. “Where’s your so-called protector now?”

 

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