Pet Peeve (7 page)

“Oo-toodle?” Hannah asked.

“She gets her words confused,” Goody said.

“Didn't you notice, poop-for-brains?”

Hannah flicked a finger at the bird, reminding Goody oddly of the Finger that had started him on this adventure, and the parody twitched a wing as if ready to fly.

“So it seems we have a problem,” the barbarian said.

“We?”

“Less of one for me. Do you think you can complete your mission as a gobliness?”

“No!”

“But you know your personality already matches. You can make a very good lady goblin.”

“Something's missing.”

“Fortunately it doesn't show.”

“Haw haw haw!” the peeve laughed.

Goody didn't find it all that funny, but realized that the bird hadn't meant him to be amused. “We've got to get to No Woman's Land.”

“But the demoness said—”

“Metria may not have had quite the right word.”

She looked at him with masked pity. “Very well. We'll search for the route.”

They walked on. Soon they came to a dog whose body was in the shape of a numbered dial with a long pointer and a short pointer radiating from its center. It was sitting and scratching ceaselessly.

Goody had sympathy for animals in trouble. “What's the matter?” he asked it.

The dog glanced at him as if he were an idiot and went on scratching.

“I believe that's a watch dog,” Hannah said.

“And it's got ticks,” the peeve said.

Goody realized that there was no cure for what ailed the dog, because when the ticks stopped, so would the dog. So he walked on, hoping this was not a clumsy parallel to his own situation.

Next they came to an olive green girl sitting beside the path. She was holding a baby. This seemed odd, because the storks normally did not deliver to children.

“Let's leave the peeve out of this,” Hannah said. “Better that you talk to her alone.”

“Bleep!” But the bird fluttered to her shoulder, knowing that nothing would happen until it did.

Goody walked on. The girl continued to croon to her baby.

“Hello, little girl,” Goody said, wondering whether it would be polite to inquire about the baby. Probably not, but he could ask about No Woman's Land.

“Hello, goblin girl,” the child replied.

“I am Goody. I was wondering—”

“I am I love you.”

That set him back. “I don't think I—”

“Olive Hue,” she repeated carefully. “Because I'm green.”

Oh. “I apologize for mishearing.”

“That's all right. Everybody does. I'm green because I envy all you normal folk with real friends. What's your talent?”

“I'm not sure I have one. Most goblins don't.”

“Mine's to make imaginary friends. This is Lorlai.”

“Lorelei?” he asked, surprised, because that was the name of the Siren's sister.

“Lorlai Fiona,” she said carefully. “She's 4.7 months old. She needs me.”

“I apologize for—”

“Everybody does. I can make others.”

“Others?”

“Imaginary friends.” The baby faded out.

Goody was finding this exchange to be more challenging than anticipated. “Uh, all right.”

Two bigger girls appeared. They were evidently twins, one of light complexion, the other dark.

“Hello, Goody,” the dark one said. “I am Olive's imaginary friend Suretha. My talent is to turn day to night.” The light of day faded, and the scene became dark.

“And I am her sister Sharina,” the other girl said. “My talent is to turn night to day.” The darkness abated, and it was day again.

Goody digested this. Imaginary friends with real talents? That gave him a wild notion. “I am impressed. Maybe you can help me.”

“Sure. But my friends don't last.” The twins faded out.

“I am looking for something and don't know where or how to find it. Would any of your friends—”

“Sure.”

An older woman appeared. “Hello, Goody. I am Mysteria. My talent is to create what is needed, but I don't know what it is or how to use it.”

Goody wasn't sure about that, but maybe it was better than nothing. “Would you be willing to create what I need?”

“Certainly.” An object appeared in her hand. She proffered it to him.

Goody looked at it. It was a small statuette or a large key in the shape of a person. “Thank you.”

But Mysteria was already fading out. The object, however, remained.

“Uh, may I keep this?” he asked Olive, who now had the baby back.

“Sure. It's yours.” She resumed crooning.

“Thank you.” He walked back to Hannah and the peeve.

“About time!” the bird carped. “Day and night passed waiting on you, you slacker.”

So the effects had been real for the others too. Those were truly remarkable imaginary friends!

“Any luck?” Hannah asked.

“Some, but I'm not sure what kind.” He showed the statuette. “This is what I need.”

“What does it do?”

“I don't know.”

“How do you use it?”

“I don't know that either.”

“What an ignoramus!”

“And is its purpose and application clear to you, peeve?” he demanded as he pocketed the object. That shut the bird up, for a while. “Well, maybe the answers will come,” Hannah said dubiously. They walked on. They came to a field of hot crossed buns that looked delicious. It was midday, so Goody picked one and bit into it.

The thing puffed into foul-tasting smoke in his mouth that burned his tongue. “Yuck!” he exclaimed, blowing out a blot of smoke in the shape of a cross.

“That's a hot crossed pun!” Hannah said. “Are you going to be emitting smelly puns for a day?”

“I think I spat it out in time.”

“I hope so. The bird's bad enough already, without that.”

“What do you call a big drum carried by two nuns?” She looked at him suspiciously. “Is that a—”

“A conundrum!” he said. “Co-nun-drum.”

“Ugh! You swallowed some of that crossed pun!”

“I suppose I did,” he agreed ruefully. “I think I got it all out now.”

“What a stinker,” the parody said with satisfaction. “Got any more?”

Hannah peered ahead. “There may be real food across that river.”

Goody looked. “But how do we get across? I see colored fins.”

She nodded. “Not worth trying to swim. But there must be a way.”

They walked along the bank, and the colored fins paralleled them. Those were likely loan sharks, eager to take an arm and a leg if given opportunity.

A woman was sitting on the bank, flipping small coins to the loan sharks. “Don't feed the fish!” Hannah said. “That will make them lose their fear of man.”

“There are no men here,” the girl pointed out. “Do you need to get across?”

“Yes. Do you know a way?”

“Of course. I am Brigitte. I make bridges appear. That's my talent.” Brigitte—bridge-it. Goody wondered if the girl had partaken of the hot-crossed puns. “We could use a bridge.”

Brigitte gestured. A bridge appeared, spanning the river. “Welcome. That's why I'm here.”

“You call that a bridge? I've seen a better span on lace!”

“Really?” The bridge disappeared.

“It's the bird!” Goody explained. “It imitates my voice to insult people. It's a fine bridge.”

Brigitte looked unconvinced.

“Try it yourself,” Goody said desperately. “Take the bird on your arm and listen.”

“Oh, all right,” she said. “But I don't believe it.”

The parody hopped onto her lifted wrist. “Did you ever see a snottier looking goblin girl?” her voice inquired. “You'd swear she's a man in a dress.”

Brigitte nodded. “Now I believe.”

“Would you like to adopt the bird?” Goody asked. “We're looking for a good home for it.”

She laughed. “No way! They'd boot me out of No Man's Land! Take it on across the river.” The bridge reappeared.

Goody took back the peeve. “Thank you.”

They walked onto the bridge. It was solidly constructed and seemed more than adequate, but close to the surface of the river. The loan sharks swam in close.

“Ignore them and maybe they'll go away,” Hannah advised.

“Hey, you lubbers! You call those teeth? I've seen better on a keyhole saw!”

The sharks' colors intensified. They gnashed their teeth, which were considerably larger than described.

“And those fins—I'll bet they make stinking soup!”

Goody hurried, but now the sharks were really enraged. One big blue one leaped high enough to land on the bridge. It swiveled around, trying to slide across the planks to reach them.

“And what happened to your tail? Did it get caught in a grinder?”

Goody backed away as the shark snapped at his legs.

Another shark made the leap, landing behind him. This one was red, and larger than the first. Now he was trapped between them.

Hannah stepped in, her sword drawn. “Now we can do this one of two ways,” she said to the sharks. “You can slide back into the water on your own, and keep your hides intact. Or you can be filleted for our dinner.”

“Don't you believe it!” Goody's voice cried. “She's got good-tasting arms and legs.”

The red shark gnashed its teeth, sending out a shower of sparks. It wasn't being bluffed.

“Perhaps a small demonstration,” the barbarian said. She stepped forward, her sword-point blurring. The letters H B appeared on the shark's hide.

“She carved her initials!” the parody chortled. “Maybe she'll do her whole name next: Honey Bunch.”

The shark chewed on that a moment, then slid off the bridge, followed by the blue one. Hannah had made her point.

They continued on across the bridge, unmolested. “Could you really have filleted them?” Goody asked.

“Of course. But I didn't really want to. Loan sharks taste terrible.”

They reached the far bank and turned to wave thanks to Brigitte. Then they surveyed the plants growing here. There was an assortment of pie plants, milkweed, and cookies. Exactly what they needed.

They settled down for a considerable snack. “Honey Bunch?” Goody asked.

“When I was a girl, a mean boy made that up to tease me. Now they call him tongue-twister.”

“But that's not a tongue twister.”

“Because he never was able to get the knot I tied out of his tongue.”

“He he hee!” the peeve laughed.

Hannah glanced at it. “I haven't lost the knack.”

The bird's beak snapped thoroughly shut.

Stuffed, Goody found he had a problem. “I need to—”

“Poop!” the bird said helpfully.

“No! But—”

“Squat by a bush,” Hannah said.

“But—”

“You can't do it the way you used to. You're a girl now.”

“And you've got pan-ties!”

Goody found the whole business uncomfortably awkward, especially with the goading of the bird, but managed to get through. “I thought I got what I needed,” he said, glancing at the statuette. “But it didn't help at all.”

“Such artifacts are usually valid. Just keep it in mind as we search.” But the barbarian's assurance lacked conviction.

They came to a central plaza. There was some kind of monument, a big block of polished stone. On it were the words THINGS EQUAL TO THE SAME THING ARE EQUAL TO EACH OTHER.

“What does it mean?” Goody asked.

“Beats me. But it surely means something.”

“Duh!” the parody said.

She turned to the bird. “Do you know something, or are you just mouthing?”

“Small object, big object, put them together, cretin.”

Goody brought out the statuette and considered it more carefully. “I just noticed something: this is male on one side, female on the other.”

“I just noticed something too: there's a doll-shaped cavity in the top of this block.”

“Double Duh!” the bird repeated.

“So we put them together?” He brought the small object to the big object. The cavity was just the right size for it. “Which way up?”

“I am getting a wicked notion,” Hannah said. “It has to go one side up or the other. Could that be important?”

“Let's find out.” Goody laid the doll in the hole, female side up.

Nothing happened.

“Now try the other way,” Hannah said.

He lifted out the figure and replaced it male side up.

Something odd happened. His shirt loosened and his trousers constricted him uncomfortably in the crotch.

“Oh, no!” Hannah exclaimed.

“I'm back!” Goody cried. “I've got my male parts!”

“You don't say,” Hannah said heavily.

He looked at her. Her halter hung loose and her skirt dangled on her narrow hips. Her arms and legs had developed knotty muscles. “You're a man!”

“Ha ha ha ha ha!” The parody laughed so hard it fell off Goody's shoulder and lay twitching on the ground. “How you like them apples, hero?”

“That's why the bleeping bird was so helpful,” Hannah said. “It knew this would happen.”

The peeve flew back to Goody's shoulder. “Well, it was a lucky guess, dolt.”

“We can change you back, Hannah,” Goody said. “But—”

“But then you'd be a girl again.”

That gave him pause. “I gather you don't want to be male any more than I want to be female?”

“Right on, buster.”

A bulb flashed over his head. “I can leave. You can stay here and change it back once I'm out.”

She/he nodded. “That should work. Let's do it this way: I'll escort you out, then return here to change, then rejoin you as female.”

It was decided. Except for one thing: “What about the gender key?”

“Let's experiment.” She lifted it out. Nothing changed. “It seems it remains where set; this is only a key, not the whole magic. Let's take it with us, so no one else can use it before we're clear.”

“Awww,” the parody said.

“Now I think I understand what the demoness meant,” Goody said. “We couldn't go to No Woman's Land, because it didn't exist. But we made it come to us.”

“So she did wangle a confusion.”

“Demons do tend to be devious.”

They foraged for new clothing, storing the old in Hannah's barbarian backpack.

They walked back the way they had come. They came to the river and waved. A bridge appeared, and they crossed. On the far side was a man who looked like Brigitte's brother. His clothes fit perfectly. “Did you find what you were looking for, brothers?” he inquired jovially.