Avery the Immortal: Part Five (complete)

It has been so hot the last few days, and the air has been thick and murky with humidity. I’ve not done much, not that I could do much when the weather is so godawful. I pray for rain, or something, just to knock the heat off a little. Instead, the air conditioner breaks.

It’s been a long time coming. The unit is probably as old as the house itself. It’s done its duty, and now it goes on to whatever great beyond small appliances go to. I’ve taken it out of the window, but the window is painted shut, and with so many layers of ancient paint I feel as though someone is mocking me.

I go into town and drop off the dead appliance with Old Allen. He takes scrap metal and discarded junk to use to make things, or repair other things. He’s made me wind chimes with old clock parts before, and fixed my truck with something from an old blender. His home is very much like a junkyard, complete with a junkyard cat who causes more terror in the neighborhood than any rougarou would want. 

“Hey, Mama, you seen that kid wandering around?” Old Allen asks me.

I wipe my brow and tilt my head at him. “I see a lot of kids. You gotta be specific.”

“Kind of scrawny looking thing. Long hair. Dead eyes,” Old Allen shakes his head at this. “Wearing an old grey hoodie. Jeepers kind of got ahold of him.”

I glance at the massive Maine Coon, staring at me like he knows the exact day I am going to die. “Jeepers doesn’t kind of get anybody. He gets them or he ignores them. What’d he do?”

Old Allen shrugs. “The youngun’ was walking along. He stopped for some reason just outside the gate, and Jeepers there sort of lost it on him. The boy grabbed Jeepers and held him for a moment before Jeepers ran away.”

“He held Jeepers?” I scoff in disbelief.

“Not before Jeepers got a few good swats in. I offered to give the boy something to cover the cuts, but he said no and walked away.” Old Allen shakes his head. “Some other people around have seen him too. Said they thought he was a zombie or something.”

“Huh,” I murmur. I cross my arms over my chest. “I’ve not heard anything about him. If I see him, I'll check him out.” I smirk. “Make doubly sure he’s nothing to worry about.”

I go back to my truck, planning on heading to the hardware store to pick up a new window unit. I have a towel over my window, hoping to keep out what mosquitoes and bugs I can. I can’t live with an open window like that, and I’m not going to deal with the heat as it is. I don’t have much money, but I know I can talk the girl at the hardware store down on something.

As I pull up at the hardware store, I see someone who might very well be the zombie boy Old Allen mentioned. He’s sitting on the bench just outside, his hood pulled up over his head and his pale hair falling out in front of his face. He’s holding a Gameboy with duct tape over the back, playing something with a lot of screechy, glitchy sound effects. His hands are as pale as mine are dark. I can’t see his face, but judging from what I can take in, I can understand why they call him a zombie.

I go inside and look over the small selection of air conditioners, checking the measurements so I am certain one will fit my window. Margot, who is running the place while her father is sick, walks up beside me.

“Is he still out there, Mama?” she asks me.

“Hmm?” I look up from reading a box. “The kid outside?” I ask.

Margot nods, her dark brown eyes looking at me in desperation. “He’s creepy and he’s been out there all day.”

“You? Afraid of some kid, Margot?” I scoff.

“Did you not see his eyes?” Margot whispers. “I offered him a drink, and the way he looked at me...” She shudders.

I motion to the AC unit I’ve been eyeballing. “Give me a deal on this. I’ll take care of the kid, see if he’s worth busting a nail or two.”

“Thank you!” Margot gasps in awe. “Thank you so much.”

I go back outside, and that zombie boy is still sitting on the bench. He smacks the Gameboy on the arm of the bench a few times before looking at the screen.

“It’s kind of hot out here to be wearing a hoodie,” I say to him. “Are you okay, kid? Know anyone around here?”

He remains quiet, tapping away at the video game.

I sigh and fold my arms. “You think ignoring me will make me go away? It takes a lot more than silent treatment to make me do anything.” I walk around the bench and sit down beside him.

“If you’re running from something, I’d be the right person to talk to.” I say to him. I try to put feelers out on him, but he has a wall up. I furrow my brow. Usually I can read someone easy, but this wall feels as thick and strong as the earth itself. “That magic you’ve got around yourself makes me think you’re scared of something.”

He stops playing his game and looks at me. His eyes are as dead as Old Allen said. I can see why Margot would say he’s creepy, but I’m not buying it. I have seen worse things than this skinny twig of a kid. Back in Vietnam I saw just about the worst of the worst, mage-related and not.

“You can call me Mama,” I say to him. “You look like you could use something to eat. Skinny white boys don’t get much skinnier than that,” I chuckle.

The boy looks down then back up at me. “I’m white?”

“Boy, are you-” I stop myself and scoff. There is no irony to his voice, no hint of sarcasm. He honestly just sounds dumb as a bag of rocks. “Are you messing with me?”

He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be worth my time. Why bother?”

“Who are you?” I ask him. “Last time I felt such a wall around a person, they were in a state of shell shock and not responsible for what their magic did.”

“A wolf bites you once, you learn,” the boy murmurs.  He shrugs and sighs. “I’m Avery.”

I chuckle to myself. “Are you planning on staying here? Or are you just passing through, Avery?” I ask him.

“I’m looking for someone,” he murmurs. “I thought they might be attracted to this place.” He looks up and points down the road. “Their hometown was back there, but it’s not a pleasant place anymore.”

“If you’re talking about Evesly, then yeah. It’s been a cesspool these last twenty years.” I say, watching his blank expression very closely.

“This place felt nice, safe,” he murmurs. “I thought maybe they would come here, but I’ve not seen them at all.”

“Who are they?” I say softly. “Maybe I can help you.”

Avery raises his head from the Gameboy as the screen goes blank. He stares off into the distance for a moment, then places the Gameboy into the backpack between his ankles. “I don’t remember anymore.” He takes a picture from the backpack. It’s old, featuring a handsome young man wearing a World War Two army uniform. I flip the picture over to find a wall of text scribbled on the back.

“How long have you been looking?” I whisper to him urgently.

“I’m not sure. Time has been strange for me.” Avery takes the picture back and hides it away. I see there are cat scratches on his hand, but they have not healed. Nor have then even shed any blood, from the look of them.

“Then where have you been staying?” I ask him.

Avery shrugs. “Wherever. There’s an old cabin off that dirt road,” he murmurs, nodding his head in the direction. “But the spirit there is loud and abusive, so I slept outside last night.”

“The old Cutler Cabin. I know it,” I sigh with a nod. “You still want that meal?”

Avery turns back to me. “Why are you offering?”

I give him a smile. “Because I’m Mama.”

Avery’s eyes glance over me once and his shoulders relax ever so slightly. “You don’t look like someone who would be called Mama.”

“Well I am,” I laugh. “And it’s my job to protect the people here. Lots of dark magic hidden in the corners here, you know?” I glance around. “People getting into things they don’t know, like kids playing with matches.” I stand up and offer my hand to Avery. “You’re here, so as long as you are, you fall under my protection as well.”

Avery takes my hand and jolt surges through my body, shaking me to my core. There is something very strange and ancient about this boy, more so than I have ever encountered in my life.

I take him across the street to the diner, where we sit in a booth. Several people around us and stare, seeming agitated by Avery’s presence here. I sigh, trying to ignore their gazes and sneers.

“So, tell me, Avery,” I murmur, “do you need a place to stay while you’re here?”

Avery seems fascinated by the seats we’re in, upholstered in shiny red vinyl. He’s rubbing his hand along it, making the fabric squeak.

“What sort of skin is this?” He raises his eyes towards me. “I can’t recall anything that is this shiny. What sort of creatures do you raise around here?”

“It’s latex,” I laugh. “It’s not the skin of anything. It’s like rubber or plastic.”

“Huh,” Avery murmurs. “I was worried for a moment there were shiny cows somewhere.” He shrugs. “I rarely eat inside anywhere.”

I furrow my brow at him. “Who the heck are you?” I ask him again. “You said your name was Avery, but where did you come from? What are you?”

“It’s personal,” Avery mutters. He looks up as the waitress brings us glasses of ice water and menus.

“Okay, that’s fine,” I murmur. “I can respect that if you don’t want to share it.” 

“Thanks,” he says. As he lifts the menu, I see there is a row of scars along the fingers of his right hand. They’re very red and they almost look like teeth marks.

“What do you like to eat Avery?” I ask him. “Pancakes? Chicken?”

“Not sure,” Avery sighs. “I don’t like eating. Nothing is ever so good. It’s sort of boring.” He lays down the menu. “Pancakes are fine.”

“They’re good here too.” I lay my own menu down. I can tell there is no joy in him whatsoever. Avery is merely a husk of a human being with something wholly inhuman piloting the body. “I think I’ll have the same.”

“I don’t need anywhere to stay,” he says. “You don’t need to go out of your way to do anything at all for me.”

“I am called Mama for a reason,” I chuckle. “I can help you, Avery. Whatever it is, at least let me try. If anything, I can keep you from being lonely.”

There is a flicker of something in his eyes, something very human. They focus on me for a moment. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because sometimes all a lost soul needs is someone to care for it. Your friend - whoever they are - must have given you that a long time ago, or else you would not be searching for them.” I lean forward, taking hold of Avery’s hand in both of mine. “That picture you had has runes on it that are old and powerful protection spells. Whoever wrote them poured love into them.” I give him a smile. “You can stay with me, even if it’s just for a few days.” I lean back in the booth. “But if you intend to stay longer, I will insist you earn your keep.”

Avery takes in a deep breath. “What for?”

“Because I will not be taken advantage of,” I scoff. “And as far as I can tell, you’re weird but healthy. You’ll work, earn your keep, earn some money, earn some respect for yourself. Because as far as I can see, you’re only living because you’re scared.”

Avery’s eyes widen suddenly.

“Survival is all it is,” I whisper. “You have no life in you, but your will to live is strong.” I nod my head at him. “You have no idea who you are. I’ll help you discover an identity.”

“You aren’t what you appear to be either,” Avery replies. “Are you, Elliot?”

I frown at him. “That is my deadname, you little shit.” I jab a finger at him. “And you are right, I am not what I appear to be. I am better.” I give him a smirk. “I was born Elliot, but my destiny was to become Mama. I knew that ever since I was in short pants and stealing my sister’s clothes.” I shoot him a warning look. “I am your elder, so respect me.”

“I am older than you,” Avery grumbles.

“Maybe you are,” I smile. “But I bet I could cook your ass in a skillet before you even knew what hit you.”

Avery looks back down at the table, his eyes focusing on the menu.

“I have raised a couple of assholes into fine young adults. I bet I can do the same for you, Avery.” I give him another soft smile. 

“It’s not good to have me around,” Avery says low under his breath.

“Probably not,” I laugh. “But somethings aren’t worth it without a risk. So what do you say?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it,” Avery sighs.

The waitress takes our orders, and a few minutes later she lays our pancakes down in front of us. I watch as Avery eats, slowly taking bites and letting the food collect in his cheeks like some sort of dull hamster.  He reaches over, takes the syrup and pours - and pours, and pours. The bottle is nearly empty by the time he stops flooding his pancakes.

“What do you think?” I ask.

Avery shrugs, taking another chunk of pancakes into his mouth and swallowing. “It’s food,” he replies. “Nothing too special.”

“Just wait until I cook for you. I know a few Creole recipes from my grandmother that will make you rethink your opinions on food.”

“How good could they be?” Avery frowns.

“Good. Now shut up and eat everything.” I point at his plate. “Growing boys need big meals. I’m paying for this, so you best show some gratitude and appreciate it.”

“I’m not growing,” he mutters confused. 

“Just eat, just eat.” I sigh.

I take him home with me. I asked him to carry the air conditioner inside, but when he tries he nearly falls over and breaks his neck. After getting him off the ground, I show him to the guest room at the back of the house. It’s kind of dull, like him, but the bed is comfortable and he has his own bathroom.

“I’ll get you some sheets and a quilt for tonight,” I tell him. “Once you get settled I’ll start setting you up to read fortunes.”

“What?” Avery scoffs.

“Like you did in the diner when you tried to be a dick.” I grinned. “You have a gift. You can use it to tell fortunes. I do the same.”

“Someone with powers like yours, and you tell fortunes?” Avery grumbles.

“Pays the bills, fills the fridge. Plus dumb tourists will pay anything to get the goosebumps,” I cackle. 

Avery looks back into the room. “This place feels… safe.”

“Yeah, and?” I laugh.

“There’s only been one place I ever felt that before.” Avery walks into the room and sits down at the bed. His hand smooths over the top while his eyes focus off into the distance.

I come inside, pulling a chair from the desk and sitting down before him. “I can’t promise you that I can fill the role of your old friend. I don’t want to even try to do that. I can promise that I will be here for you if you think you need me. You can hold my hand, you ask me for help. I will do what is in my power, but nothing beyond that.”

Avery takes hold of my hand and squeezes it. “People have been so cruel to you,” he whispers as his fingers tighten. “Why do you continue to be so kind?”

“Because kindness is hard,” I whisper to him. “And there isn’t enough of it in the world.” I stand up and put my arms around Avery. “There’s a lot of suffering out there. I can use mine to better understand people who have not gotten through theirs.”

Avery holds me, and his fingers tighten on the back of my shirt. A small whimper escapes his throat. 

I chuckle softly and hold his pale face in my palms. “There it is. I knew there was something there.”

A single tear slips down his cheek. “You’re weird.”

I laugh and pat his cheek. “The best people in the world are,” I tell him. I pull back the curtains on the window and see that it is raining outside. “Oh good, I’ve been praying for rain for days now.”

Avery sniffles. “What for?”

“Many reasons.” I glance back at him. “Rain brings many things with it. Some good, some bad.” I sigh. “Well, don’t sit too long. Come help me get this AC unit up and running.”

Avery wipes his face. “Why? I don’t want it.”

I turn in the doorway and give him a sharp look. “You live here, that’s why.”