Nana Ana's Secret Hideout

Chapter 16 - ...And Legacy

Anders cleared his throat and gestured when Eirik reached his side. "Remember that thing Nana used to say about hats?" 

They both knew. Nana Ana had fostered an inexplicable rage toward red headwear. Hoodies, beanies, ball caps. If it was red and if they drew it toward their heads, she'd yelp and carry on about bad luck until they put it down. It had something to do with her own mother but they had never gotten a clear answer about it. They only knew red headwear upset the peace, which was simple enough to avoid so they did. 

Eirik muttered, " 'Never ever wear a red hat...' " 

A handsome though gaudy item, the fedora was made of a fine material that despite its hardiness had proven not immune to the punishments of time. 

I've never worn a red hat, thought Anders. Never. A mischievous idea emerged. "I wanna wear it."

Eirik smiled, scratching his cheek. "We don't know what'll happen. Seriously anything could happen." 

It doesn't have any warning signs and the note didn't say not to touch it. I wonder...

Anders batted the brim lightly with a finger. Nothing happened, so he picked it up. Again, no magical craziness occurred. He turned it over and discovered a newly replaced lining that gleamed like scarlet satin, evidence of frequent attention. "This thing saw a lot of use."

He lifted the fedora to don it. 

"Whoa, hey!" Eirik grabbed Anders arm, stopping him. "Are you nuts?! Panda..." 

The bear, seated on the sectional, titled its head at them. 

Eirik pointed to the hat. "Is this safe?"  

The little panda cackled. "Do fish need water?" 

They exchanged uncertain glances. 

Eirik consulted his friend with a low voice. "Is that a trick question?" 

"I don't know," said Anders, "does fresh mountain coffee literally flow down from mountains? It does here, so I'm not sure--." 

"And that manatee didn't need water."

"Manatees are mammals, dork."

"I know, I meant as an aquatic lifeform--." 

The panda howled. "Oh, you two! Goodness! Yes, it's safe! I show you goofs a hint of magic and you question all reality!!" 

We'd be crazy if we didn't. Anders returned to the hat. "Okay." 

Placing the fedora on his head, he cringed with anticipation.

Eirik cringed, too. "Anything?"

"Hold on."

Anders turned in a circle. Listened. Peered closely at the drapes. He scrutinized photos on the mantel. One black-and-white picture was of Nana as a young woman in the fashionable attire of the time sitting on a bench outdoors beside two young men he didn't recognize, all three wearing matching jackets as though belonging to a club. She wore a glamorous Hollywood smile, the fairer haired man smiled in a calm easy way, the darker man beamed like a star in the night. These men were in more than one picture. 

Meanwhile, Eirik moved to sit on the sectional's arm rest and waited attentively.

Finally Anders faced him with a disappointed shrug. "Well, that was anticlimactic."

Eirik laughed heartily, hand to his chest. "Now we're paranoid about hats!" 

"What will it come to next? Hey, you said there were journals?" 

"Yeah." Eirik led him around the sectional past the front windows. "All the books on these bookcases are journals and Panda says we've gotta read them in order."

"How else would you read them?" snorted the bear. 

Eirik flicked a passing glance out the window and stopped short to ogle. "Ah! The herald and Alfred are chillin' on the fence!" 

Anders looked out the same window and froze. The blood drained from his face. 

"Too bad Alfred looks like a blob from here," Eirik continued with a frown. "I kind of want to know what it looks like up close. At least we're safe here with the green at every door and window..." 

"As I said." Panda yawned. "So very safe. The safest safe! And once you're through marveling at every little thing please could you be bothered to cook me a snack from the pantry? Everything's in resealable containers and cans and I don't have thumbs. Please? PLEASE???? See my unfortunate thumb-less state? And hear my stomach? You can hear it roaring from there, can't you? I can hardly hear myself think, it's so loud--" 

"All right, all right," cried Eirik. "Lemme find journal #1 first." He went to the bookcases and scanned the journals looking for the most punished and discolored binding. 

Lingering at the window Anders rubbed his eyes and stared harder at the pair of figures on the stone wall beyond the bright waters. One was light-colored; the other figure was dark. He had known the bird was still out there; and he suspected the evil creature might still be around and so their presence alone hadn't prompted the cold sweat on Anders' brow. What he hadn't counted on was how the distant figures appeared to be unnervingly, and not entirely, human. 

The figures sat neither near together nor far apart; seemed neither friendly nor hostile to the proximity of the other; and appeared engaged in a queer exchange of what he imagined to be chattering sounds and dismissive gestures. 

"Hat," said Panda's voice quietly from behind Anders. 

The hat--. Fumbling with the fedora, Anders fairly knocked it off his head, barely catching it before it dropped to the floor.

At once the light figure became the white parrot; and the dark figure melted into that agitated amorphous monster "Alfred", glaring and fluttering. The dark creature's face, which  had always been too distant to discern, turned and met Anders' eyes.

Startled, Anders jumped aside, hiding out of sight beside the window instinctively. Hiding. Hiding from something that couldn't get him but scared him nonetheless. Like a child. Heart thudding, he turned wide eyes to the panda who, with paws and chin on the sectional arm rest, watched him knowingly. 

Panda said, "You've got a lot of catching up to do."