An ear-splitting scream rang out across the house; Penny throwing herself into a sitting position, drenched in cold sweat. Her shaking hand went to the large, bandaged bite beneath her pajamas, feeling the small bumps of the stitching.
The bedroom was plain and of a modest size with just one window. Pre-dawn gray light was beginning to shine through, washing out the sharp corners of the walls. It was a cold, listless room, but familiar in that Penny had used it before when the Sizemores watched her during her time with the Lamberts. Comfort was still not a word that came to mind despite this familiarity.
There was no more sleep to squeeze out with her nightmare coming so soon to sunrise. She stared at her blank ceiling, mouthing what she could remember of a mantra, prayer, or hymn that Aisling used to repeat to her over and over when she was small. She stayed put until she was certain breakfast was well underway downstairs.
“You need to work on those nightmares,” Mrs. Sizemore said crossly, setting cold cereal on the table. “Trauma or no, we have jobs we need to get up for.”
“Don’t think seeing a girl’s guts all spread around is an easy get over,” Aaliyah muttered under her breath, further covering her comment with a long drink of coffee.
Penny and her briefly met each other’s eyes before continuing with breakfast in silence.
Her fostering by the Sizemores had been delayed a week to treat her injury, be debriefed by police and rangers, to start off on therapy, and to be sure the Sizemores still wanted to deal with her now that she had extra baggage (and a smaller stipend with new expenses resulting from that baggage). Whether Aaliyah was explicitly told what had happened, or if she overheard something, she had been giving Penny a pass on her usual bullying. She was not nice to her in any regard, mainly ignoring her, but in ways Penny appreciated that more.
Her friends at school, and Colton, wanted to hear all the details, ask how she was, but there was an unspoken rule between all of them not to bring it up. It felt stagnant between them, and as if everyone was trying too hard not to pull away into other groups or activities to escape the crushing lapses of awkward silences.
There was the tiniest highlight of Colton now avoiding her as much as she had been avoiding him before. He would make a show of greeting her, sometimes putting his arm around her shoulders as they walked, but then spent the rest of the school day apart or with a friend or two between them. Penny knew it wasn't sustainable; it was a question of which of them would be the first to say it out loud.
She flinched as Colton dropped his arm around her shoulders as she arrived at school. He quickly withdrew.
“Did I touch your…,” he trailed off, his eyes lingering on her shoulder.
“Only surprised me,” Penny said. Her green eyes darted to her hand as he took it, swinging it in time with their steps. “You’re extra happy today.”
“My mom says you should come around for dinner,” Colton said. “This weekend or next. It feels like… I don't know, like things are getting to be okay again.”
Heat flared in Penny’s chest. “Okay again?” She crossed her arms and stepped away. “Beth-Ann doesn’t ever get to be okay again.”
“I didn’t mean—You know what I was trying to say,” Colton said defensively. “What happened was awful. You know I believe that.”
She unbristled. “Sorry….”
“Paige wants to come. Whichever weekend works out for you,” he said. He smirked. “It’s kinda grown up, right? The girlfriends coming over for dinner.”
She froze as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. She barely was able to force out a smile as he bid her goodbye, heading off to his class. She touched her cheek, walking in a stupor towards geography.
Hodge was not going to like this.
---
The unicorn was antsy when she visited that evening. He flattened his ears when she petted his neck, but allowed it. He refused the butterscotch chip molasses cookie she made for him. She knew he'd gobble it up the moment she left.
“You know it's a bribe,” Penny muttered. “You’re too good and honest a creature for that. Oh, hold still a sec, you’ve got a major burr.”
The task of painstakingly removing burrs with her fingertips was oddly soothing. There was a degree of focus to it so that she didn't pull too hard or prick herself too badly. It was good for clearing her mind, to stop it from showing her images from that night. Hodge had been getting a lot of burrs since that camping trip. Much more than before.
“My counselor wants a specialist to evaluate me tomorrow,” Penny said. “She isn't saying it, but she thinks I'm a lost cause. …Guess that tracks.” She patted his neck, receiving a disgruntled snort. “I know. I know. I got to stop all this with Colton. It isn't fair to either of you. It's…,” she moved away from the unicorn, “it's that I don't think we can go back to friends after this… Maybe if he wasn't into this boyfriend-girlfriend thing so much….”
Colton was the only friend she had that she still saw consistently, and that was with how much she gave him the cold shoulder. There would be no one left if she dumped Colton. There may be no one left if he dumped her. It was always possible there would be no one if they stayed together, everyone growing bored with their couple act.
Penny finished up a braid in Hodge’s mane. She gave his neck a long, steady stroke. “I had no one before. So long as I have you, it’ll all be okay. …I wonder how Brooke is….”
She shook her first friend from her mind, bid Hodge farewell, and hurried out of the glade. She was halfway back to the Sizemores when a chill ran down her spine. She slowed, froze, as the hairs on her arm rose. She spun around, immediately feeling defenseless and helpless when all she managed to grab as a weapon was her cellphone.
A willowy man was climbing from an old car with a mud splattered front bumper. He wore a lot of black, as if he could not do without it, and his lank, jaw-length hair looked previously dyed or bleached with the ends being off colored and not sandy brown.
Penny lowered her guard as an odd sense of familiarity crept into place over the initial alarm.
“Penrose,” he asked. His voice was distinct, with a croak and rasp that she could not mistake. “Penrose Fox, right?”
“Who wants to know?”
His lip curled. He took a step forward, stopped as she took a step back.
“I heard about your case,” he said. His jacket shimmered slightly as he opened it, showing off the inside pocket. “Can you see that from there? Do you know it?”
She took two micro-steps forward, squinting. Her heart missed a beat. A smile hesitantly formed on her face as she locked in on the marking: 🜩.
“Y-you’re with the Order of Ferblanc….”
“Somewhat reluctantly, but yeah.” He let his jacket fall loose. “Friend of mine told me about what happened. You met her. Bowen Crabtree.” He gave a dismissive wave. “Nevermind. Probably didn’t exchange names with her busy killing that not-deer chomping on your shoulder.” He winced. “Sorry… that was too blunt.”
Penny shrugged, reading over her stitches and staring at the pavement. There had been a rescuer, but she had only barely registered the person was a woman with all that had happened. She had not even delivered Penny back to camp, merely taking her to within sight of the clearing before dashing off–-presumably to handle the rest of the herd and clear a path for Beth-Ann to be found.
“She’s the keeper for that stretch. If you were wondering. She wasn’t some random park ranger.”
“I figured she must’ve been… I think,” Penny said. “Beth-Ann, officially, was mauled by a mountain lion. A random person would’ve completely freaked out and gone with rabid deer or something.”
“It’s easier.” He pointed to her phone still in her hand. “But… you don’t share the whole idea of keeping the Realm quiet, do you?”
She shifted away from him, crossing her arms tight. “You never said your name?” She glared. “You could be a bad guy. Being part of the Order doesn’t automatically make you a good guy.”
He laughed a deep, slightly wheezing, laugh. “Ezekiel Zickefoose.” He gave her a courteous nod. “Eek, if you’d like, but never in front of other Knights.” His smile faltered. “You can sense something off about me, right? Like magic, but not exactly the same. That’s my superpower; naturally more resilient against magic. Pretty useful for a Knight.”
“Yeah…,” Penny said, sidestepping. She looked at her phone, gulping at the time. “Well, Mr. Zickefoose, it’s cool getting some connection to the Realm again, but I do have a curfew. I’d exchange numbers, but…,” she looked at this grown man trying hard not to be a full blown goth, “kind of weird. Sounds like you know about Hodge, so you can just DM me.”
“Right… I’ve held you up. I wanted to meet you before tomorrow.” He gave a small, sly smile. “Your counselor thinks I’m some type of mental health consultant. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not.”
She stared, eyes once more flicking over his appearance.
“I can’t really help with what happened except to be someone who knows what really happened.” He dusted his hands together. “There. Now your hour tomorrow we don’t need introductions. You can just talk. Bowen said you’d need it.”
“Thank you,” Penny said, unsure. “Umm, I do need to go….”
He didn’t try stopping or delaying her further, but Penny could feel him staring after her as she walked on. She bolted once she turned down the next street, stealing a glance back.
“What a weirdo….”
Ezekiel Zickefoose stayed on the edges of her mind as she sat down to dinner and prepared for bed. There was something about his voice she couldn’t shake, something about how he looked that sparked familiarity. She must have been familiar to him as well with how he immediately jumped to his nickname and watched her go. He had no real reason to intercept her, pretext of giving her the heads up or not.
Her phone buzzed, distracting her from staring into the nothingness of her ceiling. Her heart plummeted when she saw it was Colton’s customary goodnight text. This one asked a follow up question, so it felt too rude to leave it answered.
Did you get a chance to ask about dinner?
A simple ‘no’ worked, but was too blunt. She deleted it and tried again, but ‘not yet’ wasn’t right either. It was dancing around the glaring issue, the one she was hoping he’d pick up on enough to call it quits mutually. Her insides squirmed with guilt as she slowly wrote out:
Dinner won’t work. I don’t think dating works. Sorry.
She hastily silenced her phone and put it screen down so as to not see the light from the notifications. She gulped the stale air, half surprised to find tears leaking from her eyes. It was hard to say if it was the crying itself or knowing she hurt her–now former–friend for so much longer than needed that embarrassed her most. It was being a coward not explaining it all in person.
Penny took deep, slow breaths and forced her mind back to Ezekiel Zickefoose. There was not much to latch onto outside of his voice and appearance. She stared hard, hearing Mrs. Sizemore leave for work for the overnight shift. She continued staring with nothing to grasp as her eyes grew heavy and the sounds of thumping came from the stairs. Her eyes were shut, breathing starting to even out as her ears caught murmurs from Aaliyah’s room, drawers or something being shut or banged about.
Aisling’s room was being raided by an unknown man and woman; they were packing a bag for her because her mother had died unexpectedly. That man… he was goth trying hard not to be with a croak in his voice.
She sat up, breathing hard. The familiarity… the voice and fashion… how he seemed to know her–depite them not meeting before–it all added together. That woman with him at that time may’ve even been Bowen Crabtree, but she had no reason to think that and couldn’t remember enough of her rescuer to connect the two.
“...Please… not tonight… please….”
Penny stared through the wall that separated her room from Aaliyah’s. She blinked slowly, ears straining, annoyed at the distraction from this revelation that Ezekiel Zickefoose was connected to Aisling. She flinched at the sound of a slap and a yelp.
She was out of bed and throwing open Aaliyah’s door before she knew she had even moved.
Mr. Sizemore was bearing down on Aaliyah as she cowarded in the farthest corner of her bed. Her buttoned pajama top was torn open. She held her face where she’d been smacked.
“Ger back to your room,” Mr. Sizemore demanded. He straightened when Penny stayed frozen, and lumbered towards her menacingly. “Get back to your room, and you keep that mouth of yours—.”
Penny heard static. She saw red. There was a scream from Mr. Sizemore, high pitched and pained. Her foot hurt, and it took a minute for her to realize she had kicked him and was continuing to kick him. Even once she realized, she kept kicking every inch of him as he thrashed about on the floor trying to protect himself. She grabbed a lamp, threw it over him with a guttural yell. She searched for anything else to use.
“Penny!” Aaliyah grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. “S-stop! You’ll kill him!”
She kicked him once more in the stomach, or groin, grabbed Aaliyah’s wrist, and ran down the stairs. Her mind was racing, tripping over itself, not making sense of anything. She kept her grip on Aaliyah tight, and the older girl didn’t stop her or fight her off. They dashed from the cul-de-sac, down into the woods, and out into Hodge’s glade. Only then did Penny stop to catch her breath, and release Aaliyah.
“Y-you idiot,” Aaliyah snarled. “You messed up everything!”
“What?” Penny glared. “I just—.”
“Took me out of the only place keeping me from a homeless shelter,” Aaliyah snapped. “I got nowhere to go!” She scoffed. “You never got it. Brooke resented that. Pretty Penny, too pure for the creeps. You’d get believed. Couldn't have that.”
Penny took a breath. “How long’s it been going on?”
“All my life,” Aaliyah said, faux-nonchalance breaking with a crack in her voice. “Or, Mr. Sizemore specifically? Since the Lamberts used to pawn us off on them.”
A shrill, braying whinny rang out. In the dark, Hodge looked like he glowed. He charged from the woods, lowering his head to point his black horn forward into a skewering position. He went for Aaliyah, but Penny blocked him, shushing him and speaking calming nonsense.
Aaliyah fell backwards. “Th-that’s from—It’s r-real. That’s a real unicorn!”
“Ssh, Hodge, easy there,” Penny said, ignoring Aaliyah. The colt kept trying to charge around her, to get at the intruder. “Easy there, handsome; she’s a… Easy there, boy.” To Aaliyah, firmly, she added, “You might want to back up a bit. You’re too close to me. He’s protective. And unicorns are aggressive to non-vir…gins.” She whipped back to Hodge, her face hot as she tried blocking the choked sob from her nemesis. “Back up! Back! Hodge, quit it!”
“Penrose!”
Hodge immediately diverted his aggression to Ezekiel Zickefoose upon his arrival into the glade, rearing up to spin around and charge. Penny opened her mouth to yell for Hodge to stop, choking on her words when a road flare sparked to life.
Ezekiel waved it, roaring and yelling at the colt until he bolted for the woods.
“Hodge!” Penny abandoned Aaliyah, racing towards the treeline, but was caught around the middle. “Get off me!”
“No, Penrose,” Ezekiel scolded. “The cops are searching for you and that girl. You need to get back on the street before they start combing the woods.” He put his hands firmly on her shoulders. “That little spook won’t destroy what you have with that animal. Don’t worry. He’ll be back. Now, hurry up.”
There was another ten to fifteen minutes of snapping Aaliyah out of her shock and getting back to the neighborhood. It was another second after they set foot on the sidewalk near the Sizemore house before the police found them. The house was a swarm of lights, one of them being an ambulance.
Penny was separated from Aaliyah–no real loss–and taken away in a different car. The officers tried talking gently to her on the ride into town, but by this point her adrenaline was plummeting. She was doing all she could not to fall asleep. Tears pricked her eyes when she pictured Hodge’s wounded, frightened expression. Ezekiel was wrong for scaring him off how he did.
She was brought to a windowless room with a table and three uncomfortable, metal chairs. It looked every bit like the stereotypical interrogation rooms from random clips she had seen on the internet. She was given a bottle of water and then left alone. The room was too cold to sleep in despite her grogginess, and the chair too uncomfortable to bother attempting it.
A grizzled officer entered. He handed her a blanket and sat opposite of her with his beady eyes on his clipboard.
“We talked to Aaliyah,” he said. “She said she and Mr. Sizemore were having an affair. She apologizes for leading him on.”
“That’s bull–That isn’t what happened,” Penny said.
“I guessed as much.” He glanced over his clipboard. “Did he ever touch you?”
“Mostly ignored me… Guess I was lucky.” She straightened. “Why would Aaliyah say that?”
“Scared. I hear it a lot, unfortunately. Especially from kids like you two. Let’s see…. Did you mean to injure that man?”
Penny shrugged. “Is it bad? I don’t really remember it.”
“He’s not fathering any kids any time soon.” The officer’s mouth twitched but he quickly wiped his face back to neutral and stared at the clipboard. “There is a predicament with all this. You being a foster, and attacking your foster parent… we can’t exactly release you back to them. I tried contacting your caseworker, but she seemed…. Well, she answered the first call, and hasn’t gotten back to us.”
“Which means…?”
The old officer sighed heavily. “I suppose you go into holding until morning. Possibly the detention center after. Just until we get things sorted out.” He shook his head, his expression sour. “What a waste. Plucky little thing like you, we should give you a steak dinner and put you up in the best hotel for the night.”
There was not much comfort knowing she had done the right thing, not when faced with a long, cold, lonely night in a holding cell. She suspected it was more comfortable than the ones they kept adults, but that was not saying much. The cot was loosened bands between a frame; she had little choice but to be stuck hanging in the middle, and there was no real protection from the draft sweeping beneath all during the night.
She bounced between irritation at Aaliyah for failing to be truthful, and horrible, uncomfortable sadness at how things had turned out for her. Brooke popped into her mind often; Aaliyah’s charge that she had resented Penny went with it. She nearly drifted off, but whether due to all these bad thoughts or just the situation at hand, she would find herself snapping awake with a mingled image of Beth-Ann or Mr. Sizemore, both lying on the ground, sometimes both dead, sometimes both writhing.
The exhaustion kept her from fully processing that a young, female officer was standing in front of her cell with a tupperware similar to those used in airport security.
“I have your phone, a change of clothes, toothbrush, and we got you a bagel sandwich from down the street.” She opened the door and gently placed the tupperware on the floor. “There is someone here wanting to talk to you. Think you’ll be up for that in twenty to thirty? Give you a minute to change and eat?”
Penny didn’t respond, still staring blearily at the woman. She must’ve taken her silence for confirmation, because she left without pressing the issue. Penny could hear murmurs of her speaking to someone before the heavy door of the holding area cut off the sound.
She changed and was halfway through her sandwich before picking up her phone. Her heart dropped at the seventeen missed calls and forty-six unread texts from Colton. She cleared the calls and messages, scrolling to the most recent text at the bottom.
I deserve some kind of response. Ghosting me is immature.
Her jaw clenched, her hackles raising.
Sorry. I got arrested last night and didn’t have my phone until now.
The responses came in short and quick, expressing disbelief but not at her words, at the situation. News of her arrest had spread already. Then came the asking if she was okay, and the pleading for some kind of explanation. He went as far to ask if her decision had anything to do with witnessing Beth-Ann’s death, and expressed he could wait it out.
I thought about breaking up since before then. Hodge doesn’t like this dating thing. I’m never dating anyone.
The dots kept going and going, indicating Coton was doing a lot of typing. But, the response was short when it finally came through.
You’re breaking up because of your photoshop unicorn?
He’s real.
The dots moved again and again, before stopping with no reply.
She turned her phone off, sighing heavily.
“Ready for your visitor?”
“Sure,” she said, tucking away her phone.
It was not her caseworker that entered the holding area despite that making the most sense. It wasn’t Ezekiel Zickefoose or Aaliyah, or anyone she knew. It was an older than old stout woman holding herself up with a cane. She hobbled forward resolutely, and set a stern gaze upon Penny.
“I am Mrs. Adams. I was sent to negotiate your release to my employer, a Mr. Silas Javernick.”
“Should… should I know who that is,” Penny asked unsurely. “Is he famous? I’m not very good with remembering celeb—.”
“Straighten up, please, Penrose.” Penny straightened. “You do not know him, nor do I expect you to, but he knows of you. He was acquainted with your mother.”
“M-my moth–?”
“Yes. Your mother. I was quite clear.” Mrs. Adams gave her a look over. “I’ll have you sorted once you’re out of this miserable place. Will not take but a few hours.”
The arrival of Mrs. Adams, and her matter-of-fact stating that she would be released to someone that knew her mother was a level of surreal Penny was too tired to wrap her brain around. She sat on her uncomfortable bed, and finished her sandwich.
--------------------
Bowen Crabtree is a name I saw at baby gym and it was just too good not to use for fiction. I have no idea if the real one is a boy or girl. I was going to try to use it in the Beatrix and Wrenna books, but my first thought was of the loup garou, and I wanted something more traditionally Cajun. Crabtree has some Appalacian ties, so it worked better here. Which, Zickefoose is supposed to be a very distinctly Appaliacian surname that I've been avoiding until I got a "good guy". Eek and Bowen both were in chpt 2 raiding Aisling's drawers; Penny's insticts about the woman that was with Eek being Bowen is correct (because I want to use the name, lol).
The idea of Penny being "too pure" was always going to be a rift between her and others in the system. The reality is that people probably sense something kind of off about her so avoid her, particularly foul adults who would quickly gather she wasn't easy to mislead. It wasn't about purity or prettiness, that was just something other girls would grab at with how they'd been treated.
Penny being arrested for assult and sprung by Mrs. Adams was one of the big scenes fom her childhood, like the one with Hodge being upset she had a three second kiss, that was core to her.