Repairman Jack [07]-Gateways (26 page)

Tom wondered at that exchange. As soon as they were in the house he turned to Jack. “Why did you say that to Anya?”

“What?”

“‘We need to talk.’ About what? What does that mean?”

“I’ve got some questions for her.”

“About what?”

“Things. Tell you about it later.”

Why didn’t Tom believe that? What was going on between those two? He was about to press him when Jack grabbed the pen and notepad from the counter by the phone.

“Just thought of something. Give me the names again of those three people who were killed.”

“Why?” And then he knew. “Oh, no. You don’t think—”

“I don’t know what to think, Dad. When Carl told me about the others he said you didn’t fit the pattern because the others were killed by birds and spiders and snakes. You were different because you were hurt in a car accident. But if what you remember is correct, you weren’t going to be the victim of a hit-and-run accident, you were going to be a meal for that alligator. And that
does
fit the pattern.”

Tom shook his head. “A few hours ago you were implicating Gateways in a scheme to get properties reverted. Now you think it’s…what? How, just how, do you get birds and snakes to attack someone?”

Jack stared at him. “How do you get an alligator to attack someone? Twice. Because, Dad, that gator was coming for you. He was aimed at you like an arrow shot from a bow.”

Tom wanted to deny it—tried to deny it—but couldn’t. Jack was right. Those open jaws had been coming straight at him.

“But it’s crazy,” he said. Even crazier was how the gator had stopped at the edge of Anya’s lawn. He was suddenly too tired to think about that now. Another question was far more pressing. “Why me?”

“That’s what I intend to find out,” Jack said.

Tom noticed a fierce look in his eyes. There was fire in Jack, a heat and a resolve he’d never expected in his appliance-repairman son.

And something else. He had a sense that Jack already knew the answer, or at least where to look. But how was that possible? He’d been here barely two days.

“Give me those three names,” Jack said with the pencil poised over the pad.

14

His father had said good night and retreated to his bedroom. Jack heard the shower run, then the mutter of the TV through the closed door. Maybe Dad was watching it, maybe just zoned out in front of it.

Jack was grateful for the solitude. It gave him time to think. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and paced the front room, mulling what had happened, and what had almost happened. He’d been unarmed. Well, why not? Just visiting a neighbor lady for some conversation and a few sundown drinks. Who needs to be armed?

He’d know better next time. If there was going to be a next time. A few rounds into that gator’s eyes or its open mouth…that would have stopped it. Or at least he was pretty sure it would have.

But a gun would have been superfluous because the gator hadn’t been able to cross the line into Anya’s yard.

Jack was getting used to the surreal, but still…

Could someone or—worse—some
thing
be controlling the wildlife around here? This whole situation had
Otherness
written all over it. He was convinced the Otherness had taken Kate from him, then it had made an attempt at Gia and Vicky and the unborn baby. Was it after his father now?

Gia and Vicky…

He pulled out his Tracfone and punched in Gia’s number. She was delighted to hear that his father was out of his coma. Jack left out the other details, like attempted murder by alligator—twice—and told her he’d be hanging around a few days more, just to make sure he was okay.

Then Vickie got on the phone. She wanted him to bring her back a pet alligator. Jack shuddered at the thought but told her he’d see if he could catch one for her. A little one. Right.

Then Gia again. She was feeling good; she thought she’d felt the baby move but wasn’t sure. All quiet on Sutton Square.

After I-love-yous and goodnights, he hung up and made another call to Manhattan. This time to Abe.

When Abe picked up, Jack said, “Hey. It’s me.”

Jack’s Tracfone was untraceable, but he could never rule out that the BATF had taken an interest in Abe—linked him to an illegal weapon, perhaps—and were eavesdropping. So for his own sake and for Abe’s, he never mentioned his name or anyone else’s, even Abe’s.

“Good evening, Me. How’s the vacation going?”

“Could be better. You know how I thought I’d have an easy time at the tournament? It’s not turning out that way. The competition is a lot stiffer than I dreamed possible.”

“Is that so? As I recall, you weren’t expecting any competition.”

“Turned out I was wrong. Imagine that. But here’s the thing. I need bigger and better equipment. Some new tennis clothes, for sure. Large size.”

“How large? X? Double-X? Triple-X?”

“Big as you’ve got. Think
elephant
when you pick it out.”

“Elephant?”

“Mastodon. Oh, and maybe some new racquets.”

“Any particular model?”

“You pick them out. I need something with a nice sweet spot and lots more power than what I’ve got.”

“So it’s a power player you’re up against?”

“Yeah. Back court all the way until today’s round. That was when he started coming to the net. I don’t think I’ve seen his best stuff yet, so I want to be prepared.”

“I should say so. I’ll send you a nice selection of racquets that you should be able to adjust to your needs. You want I should include extra strings in case you break some?”

“Definitely. The more the better. You know how I break strings.”

“Do I. Anything else?”

“Some tennis balls.”

“Balls? I’m not following you here. Surely they have tennis balls where you are?”

“Not like the brand you carry. Yours always seem fresher. And make sure they’re yellow. A pale yellow.”

“Pale yellow…”

Jack detected a note of uncertainty in Abe’s voice. “Yeah, pale yellow. Like the color of my favorite fruit.”

“A lemon?”

“No! Pineapple, my man. Pineapple. You know how I love pineapple.”

“Oy, of course. How could I have forgotten? Yes, well, I’ll check to see if I have any of that shade in stock. I should send you how many?”

“Let’s see…I don’t want to run short. How about a dozen?”

“A dozen. Sounds to me like you’ll be playing a lot of tennis.”

“I hope not. The longer you play, the greater the chance of injury. As you know, I like to rip right through the matches without much wear and tear, but you never know. Best to be prepared, don’t you think?”

“Definitely. You want I should send them to that address you left with me?”

“That’s the place. And make it quick, okay? Who knows what I’ll be facing tomorrow.”

“I’ll pack it up right away and get it out tonight. I’ll use my special carrier. If all goes well you should have them by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Swell. Put it on my tab and we’ll settle up when I get back. I owe you one.”

“I’ll add this to the ‘owe’ list.”

“Do that. Oh, and by the way. Have I got a girl for you. She’s an older woman, but she could be a soul mate.”

“Now you’re a matchmaker?”

“Just trying to enrich your life, my friend.”

“Okay. I’ll humor you. First question: Is she on the thin side or the heavy side?”

“She makes Olive Oyl look like a sumo wrestler.”

“Sorry. Not interested. I need a woman with some meat on her, enough bulk so that we don’t look like Mr. and Mrs. Sprat when we go out together. Someone who won’t frown when I put extra cream cheese on my bagel. Someone, in fact, who’ll ask me if I want seconds, or even thirds. An anorexic woman is the last thing I need.”

“Okay. Just thought I’d ask.”

“Find a Sophie Tucker for me and then we’ll talk. But back to the tennis matches: Listen, be careful. Watch your footwork. Sounds like even a minor misstep could take you out of the game.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Talk to you later.”

“Stay in touch. Let me know the scores.”

“Will do.”

Jack smiled as he cut the connection, but it faded as he turned toward his father’s bedroom. He knocked softly on the door. When he received no answer, he pushed it open and peeked in. His father lay in bed, snoring softly, the remote in his hand, the Weather Channel playing on the TV.

Jack turned and headed for the front door. Time to visit Ms. Mundy. He had a few questions he wanted answered. Hell, he had lots of questions, and he knew she had answers to some of them.

15

Anya’s front yard was deserted. The furniture was as he’d left it but she and Oyv were gone. So were the glasses, the wine, and the beer Jack and his father had brought over.

Jack knocked on the door. Anya, wearing another garish kimono with bright red sampans sailing across her flat chest, answered almost immediately.

“You’re back. That must mean your father’s okay.”

“Shaken up but he’s all right, I think. We need to talk.”

“As you wish,” she said, moving away from the door. “Come in.”

Jack stepped into the greenhouse interior.

“I put your beer in the refrigerator so it wouldn’t get warm,” she said on her way to the kitchen. “Do you want one?”

“Thanks, no. I’m not here to drink.”

She stopped at the kitchen counter where the wine bottle waited. An empty glass stood next to one half filled. Not dainty little claret glasses but big glass balloons that held eight to ten ounces if they held a drop. She topped off both and held out the fresh one to Jack.

“Here. Try this. It’s Italian. Valpolicella.”

“No, really. I—”

She locked eyes with him. “I don’t like to talk to people who won’t share a glass with me.”

Jack shrugged and took the glass. He’d done worse things to get someone to talk. He took a sip.

“It’s good.” There. Was she happy? “Now, can I ask you a few questions?”

“If you wish.” She seated herself on the sofa overhung with plants and vines. She lit a cigarette and began shuffling a deck of cards. She pointed him toward the recliner. “Sit. You want to ask me about a Russian woman with a malamute, don’t you.”

Jack felt his jaw drop. “I—I—”

“And an Indian woman with a German shepherd. The one who told you to stay away from that house in Astoria. The one you foolishly ignored.”

“How did you know?” Jack said, finding his voice.

She blew smoke and shrugged as she began laying out the cards in a classic solitaire tableau. “Lucky guess.”

“Since June I’ve been running into women who know too much—women with dogs. You’re the third. Two isn’t a trend. But three…”

“Not to worry. You have nothing to fear from them. Or me.”

Jack took a deep breath and let it out. He’d expected denials or, at the very least, evasions. To have her come right out and confirm his suspicions…it knocked him off balance.

He took a gulp of his wine. Maybe this was why she’d insisted he take a glass.

“Who are you people?”

She finished laying out the cards and began to play, flipping them over with sharp little snaps. “No one in particular.”

“I don’t buy that. You know too much. Back in June, when I was sick, the Russian lady came to my room”—he saw her in his mind, salt-and-pepper hair, gray jogging suit, big white malamute—“and told me things about a war I’d been drafted into. ‘Is war and you are warrior,’ she said. I don’t know if she mentioned it directly or not, but I’m pretty sure she was going on about something called the Otherness and—”

Anya stopped her card play and looked up at him. “You’d already heard of the Otherness by then.”

“Yeah.”

Although he wished he hadn’t. The first mention had been earlier in the year, in the spring at a—surprise—conspiracy convention. Since then his life hadn’t seemed quite his own.

According to what he’d been told, two vast, unimaginably complex cosmic forces have been at war forever. The prize in the war is all existence—all the dimensions, all the realities, all the parallel dimensions up for grabs. Earth and humanity’s corner of reality is a minor piece on the game board, of no special importance. But if one is going to declare itself winner, one has to take all the pieces. Even the inconsequential ones.

One side—a force, a state of being, whatever—is inimical to humankind. It has no name but through the ages came to be called the Otherness by people aware of its existence. If the Otherness takes over, it will transform Earth’s reality into a place toxic to all known life. Fortunately, Earth and its attendant reality are currently in the portfolio of the other side, the force known only as the Ally. From what Jack had learned, “Ally” was a misnomer. This force was not a friend, merely an enemy of humanity’s enemy. The most Earth could expect from it was benign neglect.