“Seeds — are — fruit, aren’t they?”
“Yes, dear.” Lain focused on the limbs.
Okay, I have the fruit. Now what? Tinker eyed the seeds as they wriggled about. “I think —”
“Yes?”
“I think — Esme is trying to drive me nuts.”
“Ah, that means you’re family.”
Tinker shoved the jar at Pony to keep while she continued her argument. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you and Grandpa keep it a secret? Why Esme? Was she in love with my father?”
“I never knew why Esme did any of the things she did. She certainly never explained herself. I don’t think she ever knew your father. I didn’t think she knew your grandfather and yet — somehow — they managed to create you. She called me from a roadside pay phone right before she left Earth. She told that she’d hidden clues to her greatest treasure in my house the last time she had visited but wouldn’t say anything more. She kept repeating, ‘the evil empire might be listening, and I don’t want them to have it’ like she was some type of rebel spy.”
“Huh?” Tinker felt as if the conversation just veered around a blind corner. “What evil empire?”
“That’s what we called our family; the empire of evil. Our stepfather was Ming the Merciless, his son was Crown Prince Kiss Butt and our half brothers were Flying Monkeys Four and Five.”
Tinker fought to ignore the sudden intrusion of Wizard of Oz into the conversation. “I was her greatest treasure?”
“Yes.” Lain went back to examining the limbs. “Although I’m stunned that she had the maturity to recognize that. I was expecting something more trivial like her diary, or bearer bonds she’d stolen off our stepfather. But no, it was a copy of that form, and your grandfather’s address, and a note saying ‘Watch over my child. Don’t tell the empire of evil — or a world away won’t be far enough.’ No please, no thank you, no why she had done it.”
“So you’re not happy that I was born?”
“Don’t you twist that into something personal. I thought — and still think — it was horribly selfish and irresponsible of her, as if a child needed no more care than a dandelion seed. Throw it to the wind and hope for best.” Lain made a sound of disgust. “Which is so like Esme.”
“I don’t understand, though, why you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was wise to trust such a secret to a child. Could you have kept it from Oilcan?”
“Oilcan wouldn’t have told anyone.”
“Tooloo?”
Tinker looked away. Yes she would have trusted Tooloo, but who knew what Tooloo would have done with the information. Just look at what the half-elf was doing now — spreading lies about her not being married. “You could have told me when Grandpa died.”
“Yes, I could have, but I didn’t.” Lain found another wriggling bundle and dropped it into a specimen jar. “My family are takers. If there was something they want, they have the money and power to take it. No one can stand against them for every long. They go above, around and sometimes through people to get what they want.”
“But — But— what does that have to do with not telling me about Esme?”
“I don’t think until you met Windwolf and had seen the kind of power he wields that you could have possibly understood our family. One word to the wrong person, and they could have snatched you back to Earth, and nothing that you, your grandfather, or even I could have done would stop them.”
Chapter 14: A Parting Of Ways
Tinker fled the freezing cold of Reinhold’s and stumbled out into the baking heat of the summer evening. Oh gods, could her life get any more fucked over? Everyone she thought she knew was turning into total strangers. Tooloo was telling everyone she wasn’t married, Lain was her aunt and her grandfather had lied and lied and lied. He had always told her that her mother was dead at the time of her conception and that her egg had been stored at the same donor bank as her father’s sperm. He maintained that he randomly selected the egg from a vast list of anonymous donors. He took the truth to his grave, not breathing one word that she had living family as close as Lain. He died and left her and Oilcan with no one to turn to. She’d gone nearly mad with fear and grief, and he had lied about everything, and then left them all alone.
“Domi, where are we going?” Pony asked quietly beside her.
She blinked and paid attention for the first time to where they were. They were walking up Ohio River Boulevard, half way to McKees Rocks Bridge. The two Rolls Royces followed slowly behind her, effectively blocking traffic — not that there was any on this lonely stretch of road late in the evening. “I don’t know. How the hell am I supposed to know. What day is it? I never know what day it is anymore. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a calendar? Thursday I destroyed the world and Friday I slept. Saturday we moved to the enclave and slept some more. Sunday a dragon used me for a straw. Monday I was on the front cover of the newspaper. Tuesday I got another person to follow along behind me and ask me impossible questions and I dreamed about my mother — who may or may not be dead — and this mystery person, Black. Wednesday. Today is Wednesday.”
“If you say it is,” Pony murmured.
“Tomorrow is Thursday. Thursday is the day I take scrap metal to the steel mill. They cut me a check. I drive downtown, deposit the check except for fifty bucks. I stop at Jenny Lee Bakery in Market Square and pick up a dozen chocolate thumbprint cookies. Thursdays the thumbprints are fresh. I head back to work and put in a few hours paying bills and filling orders. I cut Oilcan his paycheck and give it to him so he can go to the bank before it closes. We get together with Nathan and Bowman and some of the other cops at the Church Brew Works in the Strip. I get the pierogies or the pizza or the buffalo wings — I like being flexible — and try expensive beer. I liked beer. Now it just tastes like piss.”
As if she’d summoned him, a Pittsburgh Police cruiser pulled over on the other side of the road slightly ahead of her and Nathan got out.
“Tinker?” He came across the four lanes toward her. “What the hell are you doing?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know? I was never an elf before. I was never in charge of anyone. People left me alone. I could go all day without seeing anyone but Oilcan or you. I cooked my own food. Washed my own clothes. It’s not like I blow up the world everyday.”
Nathan walked backwards, staying a few feet ahead of her, scanning the bodyguards and the Rolls Royces. “Are you,” he asked quietly, “trying to go home?”
“I don’t know.” And she didn’t. She was nearly to the intersection where she could continue on Ohio River Boulevard or cross over the McKees Rocks Bridge or head up to Lain’s house — not that Lain was home — but really, she had not a clue which direction she was going to go — although she was starting to suspect that it would be straight through — staying on Ohio River Boulevard until it hit the Rim.
“Do you want me to take you home? Or to Oilcan’s? Lain’s? Tooloo’s? I can take you to a woman’s shelter if you want. I am a cop; you can trust me to help you if you need help.”
She made a rude noise. “How do you know who you can trust? How do you know when people are telling you the truth?”
“Tinker, I’m sorry that — I know that doesn’t forgive anything — but I’m sorry. I really thought you felt something for me. I thought that was why you said you wanted to go out on a date. But it’s just like I offered a kid candy; I talked about dating and of course, you were curious. I should have known what you’re like with something new. You don’t stop until you know everything.”