Chapter 9

            Vince woke up to the Experience’s lead singer, Sam Cho, announcing that their newest album was available online.

            “Of course, if you still have a CD player, Stan’s got a stack of ‘em at the back table for five bucks a pop,” he continued. “Either way, drive home safe.”

            “What’d you think?” asked Vince, the last word swallowed by a yawn. “Pretty great, huh?”

            He could just hear Bayla. How great could it be if you could sleep through it? Landman music must be inferior to our whale-song.

            Except he did not hear her. “Bayla?” He cracked his eyes open, seeing no sign of the orca. Not that it was easy to see; the moon was a sliver in the sky, and the trees blocked what light the setting sun might have provided.

            His heart stopped as he frantically scanned the crowd for her, relying on the stage lights. Thank God, she’s still here. Though, as he watched her use her sharpened teeth to shotgun a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, he rescinded his gratitude for the Lord. The way she’s wobbling, that wasn’t her first.

            “About time sleeping beauty woke up,” said the tallest of the men. “Bayla, your ride’s here.”

            “Vincsh,” she slurred. “You were dead, but now you’re not. Also, this al-co-hol really does enhance the experience.”

            Vince gulped as she stumbled into his embrace. “I-I’m sorry, I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

            Jerry barked a sarcastic laugh. “I don’t know where your little lady fits it all! She just about drank Darren under the table.”

            The last of the three moaned from his lawn chair, where he’d shifted his fishing hat to cover his eyes. “I still won… I think.”

            Vince gulped as he saw the bulging trash bag full of empties. “What do I owe you?”

            “Nothing,” said the tallest man. “Bayla’s a hoot. Nothing like a little female company to liven up the night.”

            “Y’she,” slurred Bayla, smirking up at Vince. “Jorge understands.”

            Vince yawned again, prompting a frown. That had been his plan, but he’s slept through almost all of it. Why was he so exhausted all of a sudden? “Well, I think it’s time I get her home to sleep it off.” If she could sleep it off; if his hands had been free, he might have quickly googled if whales could process alcohol. However, he was not eager to see her pitch over, so he kept his grip.

            Jorge nodded. “Hey, we’re going to be in town through Monday. Are you local?” Vince nodded. “If you’re bored, we’re going hiking up north tomorrow.”

            Vince felt a smile crossing his face.

            It died a rapid death. “No, no hiking!” said Bayla.

            Vince sighed internally. “I guess not. Have you been up there before?” Jorge shook his head. “You’ll want to take the Greene Point trail. The lighthouse just got repainted a few years back; it’s gorgeous if the sun’s out.”

            “Sounds like you’d make a good guide.” Jorge fished his phone from his pocket. “Let’s exchange numbers, just in case she changes her mind.”

            Jerry looked up from cleaning the barbeque grill. “Or if you decide to snap your leash.”

            “What’s a leash?” slurred Bayla.

            Vince chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I can’t leave this one alone for a minute.”

            Jorge nodded. “Either way, we head out after lunch. We’d love to really meet Bayla’s better half.”

            Vince led Bayla back towards the parking lot. It was slow going; Memorial Park was hilly, and the mild incline gave the tipsy orca trouble. The other concertgoers outpaced them, leaving them alone. That was fine by Vince; he needed to have a word with his charge.

            Once they were out of earshot of the others, Vince took Bayla aside. “What were you doing back there?”

            “Drinking beer and sampling Landman cuisine,” she replied. “You didn’t tell me there was so much good food up here! It is almost compensation for walking everywhere.”

            “You’re lucky they didn’t try sampling you,” he snapped. “What if they’d made a move on you, huh?”

            “Oh, I’d have clobbered ‘em,” she said, capping off her declaration with a giggle. “Besides, they were harmless.”

            Vince stopped in place, the sudden shift almost bowling Bayla over. “Oh yeah? You’re so drunk you can barely stand right now!”

            She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes to peer at the ground “I thought the ground was rather uneven. Am I under a spell?”

“Yeah, a spell called Bud Light.”

“The cans that tasted like water did this to me?” She clung to his side more tightly. “You didn’t tell me beer would do that.”

            “Yes, I did!” He glanced around, making sure that everyone else had left them behind. “I figured you wouldn’t get the idea of alcohol, but I did tell you it’s an intoxicant.”

            “You are per… per-perturbed,” she said.

            “That’s one way to put it! You can’t just leave like that, not while you’re still learning your way around here. Sharks don’t just live in the sea.”

            Bayla’s eyes crossed as she considered his words, her addled mind teasing them like some Buddhist koan. “Do your sharks have legs?”

            A shark on legs? There’s a frightening thought. “There aren’t actual sharks up here, thank God. But I mean you were lucky those three weren’t trying to get in your skirt.”

            She ran a hand along her pinafore. “They would not fit. They have far too much blubber.”

            Vince facepalmed. Fine, I’ll be direct. “You could have been hurt. They could have attacked you. I don’t care how strong you are, there’s three of them and one of you, and they got you sauced! Before you ask, that means under the spell of Bud Light.”

            Bayla frowned. “I c-can take care of myself.”

            “Can you? Can you really?” He took a step back, and the tipsy orca was forced to cling to his arm for support. “You’ve been human for less than twelve hours, and you learned what beer is by getting blitzed, which is also a term for that spell.”

            Her pale face looked green as her stomach objected to her sudden lurch forward. “You have a-an awful lot of ways to describe the spell. Is it taboo?”

            That gave Vince pause. “A bit, yeah. Anyway, please, you have to stay with me. At least for now.”

She pouted up at him, but her shaky legs seemed to win out. “For now. I am not usually so helpless. I’m a warrior, you know.”

“I hope so, because you’re going to fight one hell of a hangover in the morning.” Assuming her body can even process alcohol. Is she poisoned? What if I had to rush her to the hospital with no insurance or ID? “Do you feel okay?”

“Okay?” she asked.

“It means alright, or fine,” he said. Guess that’s a new one for her, too.

“As spells go, this is an amusing one.” She reached up, brushing a thumb along his cheeks. “You’re speckled like a dolphin, do you know that?”

He sighed. “At least one of us is having fun…”

They finally arrived at the Meyer-mobile, which turned out to be rotten timing. A sheriff’s patrol car pulled into the parking lot. Vince did not recognize the older man who stepped out, though he was wary of the tan uniform. It was near the end of the month, and the local police got a little ticket-happy when it was time to make quota.

The streetlight over his head cast the portly sheriff’s face in shadow, but Vince could feel his eyes on them. After all, who else did he have to look at?

“E-evening, officer,” said Vince, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

“Evening,” he replied. He tipped his head up, revealing a brushy moustache. “How was the Experience tonight?”

“Oh y’know, same old same old. Just the way we like it.”

Bayla took a step forward, splaying her arms wide. “Vincemeyer, you are lying to your friend! Same old? It was astonishing! The magic boxes shook the ground and made four men sound like an army.” She paused. “Not that my people couldn’t do better, if we chose to. But it is a fine trick.”

“Your people?” asked the officer.

Please don’t.

Vince’s prayer was answered with a firm ‘no’. “The orcas of the Northern Kelp Forest. We are the mightiest pod in all the seas of Avalas.” Her hand flew to her mouth as she realized her mistake. “But that’s a secret, according to Vincemeyer. Please don’t tell anyone.”

The sheriff’s brow raised. “I see. Little lady, what are you high on?”

Vince went to cover her mouth. “She had a couple of…”

Bayla wriggled out of his grip. “Vince was a-trance, so some nice men put me under a spell that enhanced the experience.” She paused, the gears of her mind turning. “Hah! It enhanced the experience of the Fin Island Experience! Vince said not to, but he did not know what he missed out on.”

Vince facepalmed again. Oh hell. In vino veritas.

The sheriff’s grin spread from ear to ear. “Wonderful. Hey, how’d you like to come down to the precinct and tell us all about it? Seein’ as I’m arresting you for either drunken disorderly or possession of controlled substances.” He studied her again. “Maybe underaged drinking, too. You look kinda young.”

“Arrested?” asked Bayla, cocking her head. This turned out to be a mistake, since the sudden motion sent her back into Vince’s arms.

“I’ll be taking you in my magic carriage to the constabulary,” he said with a faux-medieval flourish. “Until you come down and can tell us who cast this wonderous spell upon you.”

Vince grimaced. “Officer, Bay… Barbera isn’t hurting anyone. She just got a little bit sloshed.” Bad enough he knows my name, but I’ll keep hers out of it.

“She thinks she’s a whale from Narnia. That isn’t just ‘a little sloshed’. Now come along.” He scanned Vince. “You look clean, so you can go.”

“I am not going anywhere,” declared Bayla. The sheriff continued undeterred.

Vince and the sheriff could see how this would go logically. Bayla would be handcuffed, loaded into the squad car, and taken back for processing. Vince had the extra insight to know that they would realize she had no identification and, as far as the legal system was concerned, did not exist. They might try to deport her, or throw her in jail.

However, Bayla was not in the proper mindset for logic, so they were both dead wrong. When the sheriff got too close for her taste, she lashed out with her fist, catching him in the gut. The impact sent him flying, just like it had with Rufus. Unlike Rufus, he did not get back up.

Vince turned the air blue as he ran over to inspect the sheriff. He was alive, but out cold.

“Bayla, what did you do?”

“I t-told him I wasn’t coming,” she answered, stumbling over to Vince’s side. “Did I slay him?”

“You sound pretty damn unconcerned about possibly killing a man!” he snapped. “And no, you didn’t.”

Without asking, she helped herself to the water bottle in Vince’s backpack. She poured it out onto her hand, her golden magic forming it into a flowing sphere. She muttered a string of syllables that meant nothing to Vince’s ear, and the water took on a sickly brown shade. With a wave of her hand, she splattered the polluted liquid across the asphalt. A scent like a distillery assaulted Vince’s nose.

In an instant, the slur left her voice and she stood tall. “Let me try again now that I am not addled. He lives, correct?”

Vince’s eyes widened. “What did you just do?”

“It is a spell for removing poisons,” she replied. “There are rays and jellyfish in the forest; every child learns to detoxify themselves.”

“You could’ve done that any time!” He rose to his full height, his voice hot with boiling over frustration. “You were going to let me carry you around all night, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” she said, though concern spread across her face. “It was a fun spell, and the experience was enhanced... until it wasn’t.”

“Yeah, until you attacked him!” He bit back his curses. “We’re going to jail, and if you go to jail, that’s going to be a disaster!”

“That is unnecessary,” she said. She crouched by the spreading brown puddle, pulling the liquid back to her hand. It was once again clear as crystal. “I will make amends by healing him, and I am no longer addled, so he will have no claim on us.”

“It isn’t that easy, Bayla!”

“Are you saying I should not heal him?” asked Bayla.

That gave Vince pause. Could they just leave? He could call for an ambulance, or another squad car, but he was sure they could trace his phone. There were no payphones around, though he could see the spot where one used to stand. He isn’t too bad off, right? He’ll be okay if he lays out alone all night, right?

The downed sheriff moaned.

Vince sighed. That was never a live option. “No, we should heal him. Just if he tries to cuff you, please don’t fight back.” He considered his words. “He is part of a mighty band of warriors who do not tolerate those who wrong them.”

“Mighty? I laid him out with one blow!” Bayla set to work with her healing magic, illuminating the whole area in a blue glow. It seemed to be glowing slower than healing Vince’s minor scrapes. “They should not begin fights they cannot finish. We were no threat to him until he made us such.”

Vince could not entirely disagree, but he was not about to talk about police reform at a time like this. “He knows my name, but maybe if we heal him and get the hell out of Dodge, I can… never come into town again when he’s on duty. Or get arrested for being an accessory. It’s better than what’ll happen to you.”

Bayla shook her head. “Vince, I am not going to let you suffer for a problem I caused. I will heal him, and then take responsibility.”

Vince felt oddly touched by Bayla’s declaration, but his response was cut off when all of the streetlights in the parking lot cut out at once. His eyes adjusted, but everything was still dim, lit only by the sliver of moon and the glow of Bayla’s healing magic.

“Hell of a time for an outage.” He was about to continue his complaints when he spotted something glimmering in the gloom at the far end of the lot, near the park proper. He froze, his senses on high alert. A loud splash echoed through the silent lot. Something was moving out there, but what?

The glimmer came again, catching the light of Bayla’s healing magic. Hostile eyes, glowing green as they drew closer and closer. The beast’s heavy breathing reached Vince’s ears.

“What is that?” demanded Bayla without looking up from her task.

“Cougar,” he whispered. Impossible. Nobody’s seen a cougar on Fin Island since 1984.

It was finally close enough to make out its sinuous outline, and Vince cursed again. Looks like nobody told him that.

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