* * *
Later Benny arrived for a visit, the Enforcer uniform declaring his arrival like the loudest town-crier in history.
“Jet Clarence,” he said brightly, that old grin back on his face, “How are you feeling, buddy?”
“Pretty good,” I responded, “for a person who died not so long ago.”
“That can be a day dampener.”
“I guess I should thank you that I’m here at all.”
“You remember that, huh?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Don’t sweat it.”
“So, I’ve missed a lot of time…”
“Firstly, you can proudly call yourself an official Class 5 Magical Hazard.”
“That would explain the twitchy nurse.”
“You’ll be going in for analysis when you’re well enough.”
I nodded. “Okay. Whatever that involves.”
“It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”
“What about… everything else?”
“Things worked out okay,” he said, sensing the unasked question, “It was no picnic, but I managed. A whole lot of favours were called in and I’m afraid a fair amount of minds were… scrambled.”
A whole lot of minds indeed, from receptionists to doormen to security guards to Morris Chapman himself. It can not have been a small task.
“Though, there was one small setback,” he continued uneasily.
“Yes?”
“Selena.”
My stomach dropped. “What about her?”
“Someone had to take the fall, Jet, and she was just too obvious a choice. I had to go with it; there was only so much I could do after setting things in motion. She fought back of course, but after a certain amount of resistance her obsessive nature just made her look all the guiltier.”
“What happened?”
“She was convicted.”
I sighed, guilt already starting to fog up my recently clear mind. “Damn.”
“But…”
“But what?”
“She escaped from the Magical Detention centre, Jet.”
“What?!”
“A month ago.”
I gaped in horror. “Oh no, but that’s…”
“Stepping beyond the law, I know. Little Miss Perfection stepped beyond the law.”
“Then she must be changing. Into what?”
“I guess we’ll find out, one way or the other.”
The guilt was replaced by realisation, then fear. “Do you think…?”
“I don’t know, Jet. I’ve heard nothing about it since.” He paused, hesitating at length. “Was there something going on between you two?”
“I’m not sure,” I responded, “I think, maybe.”
“Well, whatever it was, hats off to you. Not only is she a fox, but I never even knew her capable of affection until you came along. But if I were you, or me for that matter, I’d watch our backs.”
“Or watch each other’s backs.”
“Right.” He grinned, Cheshire cat style.
There was a pause, letting the impact of the situation sink in. But what could I do but wait and see.
I cleared my throat, indicating a change in the beat of conversation. “Benny.”
“Yes?”
“I’m really sorry about Brent.”
“I know.”
“I mean it. If I could go back and do it again, I would in a heartbeat.”
He smiled placidly. “So would I, Jet. But you didn’t know him; he’d been making bad decisions his whole life; taking stupid risks, stepping on the wrong faces. It was inevitable, really.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“Forget it. I forgive you.”
But something about the look in his eyes made me wonder if there was conviction behind those words. Perhaps I had not heard the last of this.
Then I asked the next question that was burning foremost in my thoughts. “My mother… is she… ?”
“She got away, her and your grandmother. They were too fast.”
I nodded. This was no surprise. The flame, still tiny, flickered and grew. And it set in motion the plan I had been formulating over the last few hours. “I need to ask you a favour, Benny.”
“A favour?”
“I know you’ve done a lot for me already, but I need to ask one more favour.”
“What is it?”
* * *
After leaving the hospital my very first stop was the Clarence household.
The damage to the wall was still clear to see, with only the most basic of repair work being started before once again being abandoned.
My front door key still worked and I let myself in.
In the kitchen, where I expected to find him, was Clinton, sitting in a night gown and sporting what may be the healthiest crop of beard I’d ever seen. Unfortunately his beard was the only thing that looked healthy; the rest of him looked like shit.
“Hello, Clinton.”
He looked up. His eyes, ringed and glassy, focused on my face, and for a long moment I thought he would not recognise me. “Jet?”
“Yes.”
I took a seat across from him, having to move a pile of empty food wrappers from the chair. It appeared he had eaten everything that remained in the house, up to and including forgotten boxes of pasta that looked old enough to be classified as vintage.
My guess was that he had not eaten in some time, and from the lack of empty beer cans had not drunk much either.
“Hello, Jet,” he said dreamily, “When is your mother coming home?”
I had wondered what would become of a mental slave if abandoned. And now I knew. Eventually he would simply starve to death.
“She’s not coming home, Clinton.”
He stared at me.
“Do you remember wanting help,” I asked.
“Help with what?”
“You wanted help escaping my mother.”
He frowned, eyes dropping to the table.
“You wanted my help, Clinton,” I continued, “And I said I would. She’s gone now, and you’re free.”
I gathered up and pushed out truth and understanding, bringing clarity to a mind so fragmented and cloudy it was like diving into the muddiest pond on Earth. “She’s gone now, and you can be who you want to be…”
He drew in a quick gasp as the fog began to disperse, revealing a person beneath that had not had a clear thought in a long time.
Lucidity came to his eyes, confused at first then slowly sharpening.
“You’re free,” I told him.
He did not answer, choosing instead to stare with mouth hanging open. And who could blame him?
I had at least managed to avoid the face clawing reaction of Linda, the difference being that Clinton desired freedom where Linda had been avoiding it at all costs.
“Thank you,” he said at last, but his mind was still not grasping the reality and would not for some time.
He would be okay now. Not all at once, but time would take its course.
“I’m going to leave you, Clinton. I think you need space.”
He looked as though he wanted to talk, but I did not have the time. My plan was only just starting to get into motion.
Before leaving I placed my share of the gambling money on the table. “Here,” I said, “This will help.”
Then I headed for the Department of Magic where I signed up for Enforcer training. Benny Kingston volunteered to be my mentor.
The search for my mother and grandmother began.
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