The Airdrie Firefly

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

ALL CREATURES GREAT AND SMALL

Steven was having the oddest dream. Maple leaves were flying all around him when a giant white shag carpet suddenly wrapped around his body, constricting him like a python. It didn't stop him from breathing, just made it a bit more difficult. Suddenly, the shag carpet turned into a horrible asthmatic clown with huge black eyes and contorted features. Its large, swollen brow hung over bulbous cheekbones, and its exaggerated features pulled its skin tight, keeping its teeth bared in a predatory grin, an asthmatic predatory grin.

Then he heard Talyn's voice, and the asthmatic clown tried to squeeze the stuffing out of him.

When he finally woke up, Steven found himself on the ground, being cradled by Talyn, who was still in clown makeup. He leaned forward to prop his achy forehead in his hands, but he stopped as he caught a glimpse of them. They were white. Then he saw his shirt. It had white smears on it too; so did his jeans.

Steven tried to open his mouth to speak and realized there was something in it. He hurriedly spit the foreign object out of his mouth and saw it to be hair, black hair, smeared with the same white that was all over his clothes.

Talyn was still squeezing him when he noticed Chris, bloodied and looking freaked out.

"What happen—" Steven started, before a set of headlights veered off the road and stopped a few yards in front of them, enshrouding them in pool of light that cast eerie, long shadows on the hillside.

The engine stopped, but the headlights stayed on. Steven heard two doors open and close. It was impossible to see anything past the headlights; not the vehicle; not the occupants.

"Is everything all right?"

I know that voice, thought Steven. English accent, baritone, a little nasal . . .

"Dr. Tristan?" Talyn squeaked.

"Talyn? Is that you?" Dr. Tristan replied. "I thought the circus might be in town for a moment. And is that Steven Digs with you?"

"Not the circus, the rodeo," Talyn said proudly. "And, yes, it's Steven."

"My word!" cried out Dr. Tristan, walking into the light pool. "What the blazes happened here?" He walked briskly to Chris. "Come now, young man, let me have a look at that."

"Mr. Peabody, bring my medical bag, if you please," Dr. Tristan called out, examining Chris's nose.

Steven looked around, trying to make sense of what had just happened, but he couldn't help being curiously distracted by Chris, who was barely listening to Dr. Tristan and giving him and Talyn the oddest look. With that thought, he also noticed that Talyn was close, very close—in fact, she was still cradling him.

Mr. Peabody ran into the flood of light and passed Dr. Tristan his bag.

Steven gave Mr. Peabody only a passing glance, becoming more interested in the color smears on his own body. This looks like white paint, and this is some kind of blue, he thought, rubbing the color smears between his fingers. And this . . . Steven realized the red smear was blood—his blood. It wasn't a lot, but he became suddenly aware that he'd been scratched up pretty good in the tumble.

The tumble. A large . . . something crashed into me and we fell, Steven thought, eyes wide with remembrance. "Where is the—" Steven started to ask Talyn, but again realized she was still close, extremely close, her nose almost brushing his. "I . . . um . . ." Steven stammered, averting his eyes and looking to the ground, a wave of heat rising from his toes to his head in a blush so deep he was sure he would glow in the dark.