Esther M. Friesner
Elf Defense
I
2 Esther M. Friesner
Aloud he said, "Come on, Cass, trade places and take a
turn at the wheel. You heard Amanda: she wants me."
"She doesn't know what she wants. I have to stay back
here with her! You don't know all that must be done if we're
going to be safe. You might get careless. ..."
"I might drive this stinking car into a ditch if the rain
gets any worse! I can be just as careful as you, if you tell me
what to watch, but I can't see to drive as well as you can in
this storm." Another bolt of lightning flashed across the sky-
bowl, thunder answered, and the rain gusted harder against the
windows, as if to back up his words. "Please, Cass. You can
get us there faster. And we've got a long way yet to go."
A loud snort of disgust came from the backseat. "All
right, all right, I'll take the wheel. You've made your point."
Two doors opened almost simultaneously, though only Cass
slammed his shut once he was outside. He and Jeff circled the
car, exchanging places, while the windshield wipers continued
their hopeless task and Amanda pressed her knuckles against
her teeth until Jeff was beside her. She welcomed him joyfully.
Cass heard, and winced a little, in spite of all his good inten-
tions to leam self-control.
Jeff shifted noisily, sitting down on the thick sheet of
clear plastic covering the entire backseat and furled over most
of the floor. It was a painter's dropcloth, the biggest and most
durable they cound find. Amanda grabbed his hand and
squeezed it tight. Her grasp stemmed a stream of mild profan-
ity as he struggled to get comfortable on the clinging stuff,
made him forget all about his own minor discomfort.
"How are you, babe?" he asked. Nothing mattered but
easing her pain.
Amanda smiled a little and bent her head to rest on his
shoulder. His arm around her was all the shelter her soul needed.
"A little hot—all this plastic—but what can we do? It's necessary.
I'll be fine. We'll all be fine." She kissed him, then met Cass's
extraordinary blue eyes fixed on her in the rearview mirror.
"Please start the car, Cass. I'll tell Jeff what he's got to do."
"He's done enough already," Cass mumbled under his
breath. They didn't hear him. He turned off the overhead light.
The engine rumbled to life and the car rolled back onto the
road. The storm continued unchecked. There was even more
force behind the lashing wind now. The raindrops sounded like
hail against the windshield, but the car roared on as fast and
surely guided as if it had been full daylight and fair driving.
When they reached the small town of Jeff's memories, it
ELF DEFENSE 3
was bedded down and boarded up. It wasn't hurricane season
yet, but the Gulf of Mexico was capable of spawning some
mighty nasty surprises. Wise Ploridians knew it. Here and there,
Cass glimpsed slivers of light from the buildings, shining cracks
beneath incompletely closed metal shutters. Mostly, though, he
saw the street lamps' fuzzy balls of brightness, silly little fire-
puffs hanging against the fearsome brilliance of the lightning.
"Now where?" he asked.
"Three more blocks—no, four—and hang a left. The
clinic's the pink house at the end of the street."
"All the way at the end?"
"Pass it, and you're in the bay."
"Are you sure it's still there? How long has it been since
you were in this town?"
"Five years; maybe six. Listen, I sent them a nice check
every Christmas, and none of 'em came back. It'll still be
there. The only thing that's changed might be the paint. Just
drive, Cass."
"Please, dear," Amanda put in gently.
Cass followed directions. He took the left turn a little
harder than necessary, but Amanda was making those strange,
terrifying sounds again. This time there was a note of imminent
panic in her voice. They were running out of time. The sharp-
ness of the turn made everything in the car shift left. Amanda
cried out as Jeff pitched up against her, sliding helplessly on
the plastic seatcover. In the front, the small furry shape sharing
space with Cass tumbled into his thigh. He felt claws sink in
deeply, a reprimand.
"Ouch! Cesare ..."
"Look!" Jeff thrust his arm over Cass's right shoulder,
pointing. "They've got their lights on! Someone's still in-
side!"
"We won't have to call. Oh, thank God!" Amanda
sighed.
They were there. Jeff leaped out onto the swamped gravel
drive and ran around to open Amanda's door. He offered her a
hand out, an arm to lean on.'
"Be careful, you idiot! What do you think you're do-
ing?" Cass was outside too, the rain plastering his long hair
to the sides of his face. The cheap dye left black smears on his
cheeks, stained the collar of his Hawaiian shin past hope. He
barred Amanda's way, refusing to let her out of the car. "Here,
I'll take care of her."
Standing side by side in the storm, the two worked to-
4 Esther M. Friesner
gether. Next to Jeff's robust athlete's body, Cass looked thin-
ner than he was, almost sickly, all bones and promise. His
youthful fragility made Jeff seem much older by comparison,
certainly much stronger. But then he reached into the backseat,
swaddled Amanda tightly in the clear plastic sheeting, and
passed her into Jeff's waiting arms as easily as if she weighed
no more than a kitten. Jeff carried her up the walk, struggling
to keep the plastic in place, while Cass checked out the interior
of the car.
"No blood," said a sleepy voice from the front seat.
Cass looked up sharply. A gray brindled tomcat perched
on the back of the seat and regarded him with a superior smirk,
whiskers quivering.
"Why waste your time looking? Trust me, Cass. Trust
my nose, if you'd prefer. There is no blood, not a whit, not a
sniff. Not yet. You did a perfect job of keeping it under wraps,
but you're not through yet. Hurry up and go inside. You'll
have to be twice as cautious in there."
"I will be," Cass said grimly.
The cat yawned. "Good luck." His mouth did not move
at all when he spoke, yet the sound of his words filled the car.
"Midwives may let husbands in the delivery room, but I'll bet
they draw the line at snotty teens."
"They'll have to let me in!" Cass spoke fiercely as he
yanked a fresh plastic dropcloth from under the front seat, un-
folded it, and spread it to cover every possible inch of space in
the back. "I can help Amanda more than any of them ever—"
"How?" The cat looked amused. "By pulling rank, or
just a rabbit out of a hat? Oh, go ahead and try. You'll see I'm
right."
"Cats," Cass grumbled, backing out of the car. "Think
you know it all."
"That's because we do," Cesare replied smugly, but his
words were lost in the sound of the back door slamming shut.
He spread his six-toed paws and begain to rip hell out of the
unprotected front-seat upholstery.
The clinic door was locked. Cass pounded on it, then
leaned on the bell. A small roof overhanging the doorway af-
forded little shelter from the sideways-driving rain, but he was
already soaked. Impatience and powerlessness made him fran-
tic. He leaned on the bell again and didn't release it until the
lock clicked and the door opened.
"Now what is . . . ? Oh. You must be the son. Come
in." A plump young woman in nurse's whites, very harried,
ELF DEFENSE 5
turned her back on Cass as soon as she summed him up and
asked him in.
He followed her into a square waiting room, the walls
painted pale salmon pink. "Have a seat," she said, waving
him to take his choice of two identical sofas, their waterlily
print upholstery genteelly faded. She kept going, heading for
the frosty glass-paneled door beyond.
"Wait!" He grabbed her arm. She glared, her expression
so full of burning outrage that it startled him. He saw the tom-
cat's mocking face overlay her scowl like a ghostly mask.
Ah! Yes, Cesare, you were right after all, he thought. A
snotty teen, that's how she sees me. How do I dare to detain
an adult like this? I forget myself. How do I even dare to touch
her? He dropped his hand, and the cat's face faded. The nurse
was just another human being who wondered what was wrong
with all these nervy kids.
"I'm sony." He tried to put a quaver into his voice and
bowed his head, doing his best to look awkward. It was easier
to be submissive than to feign it. "I—I just want to be with
my mother."
"Now?" The woman's look softened from anger to sur-
prise to compassion. Cass had pushed the proper buttons. "Oh,
dear, I wish I could let you, but it's out of the question."
"I won't faint, if that's what you're afraid of. I've seen
tapes of births before, in—in my mother's La Maze classes.
I'm sure she wants me with her. Hasn't she asked for me?"
The woman patted his arm. "Yes, she has honey." For
some reason, she didn't imagine that he might resent unasked
contact as much as she did. Given his apparent age, what he
liked and disliked were trivial as far as she was concerned.
"But we told her we don't have that big a space to work with,
here. Just me and Dr. Pine can barely move ourselves around
that table, and what with your daddy being in there too ...
Well, he's got a right to be there, I suppose, so long as we
don't get any complications—"
She caught Cass's look and hastily added, "Not that we're
going to have anything but a plain, easy birth here. Don't you
fret, child. We're just a little-bitty town clinic, but all the same,
we've helped birth more than a couple of infants when they
couldn't wait for the county hospital. Your Mama's going to be
okay. Now go sit and read a nice magazine. I've got to scrub."
Cass thought better of insisting. He could read people
more easily than he could wade through the pile of old Time
magazines in the waiting room, and he'd seen a stubborn streak
running clear to the bone in the little woman. She'd made the
decision to keep him out, and she'd defend it till dawn if he
talked back. Amanda needed her helping in the delivery room,
not arguing out here. He would just have to trust Jeff to oversee
matters in there. Reluctantly he settled down.
He heard the rain slacken off, but it didn't stop. Time
drifted over his skin like the breath of the sea. Then the woman
was back, smiling. A plastic cap hid her short black hair, and
a surgical mask dangled from her neck.
"You've got a little brother, honey; a fine, healthy little
brother."
They let him see Amanda right away. She was lying in a
long room whose three hospital beds were separated from each
other by cheery aqua curtains. Jeff stood to one side of her at
the head of the bed, a redheaded woman to the other. They were
grinning at Cass like a pair of brain-scooped baboons.
"Come in, come in!" Cass wasn't coming as fast as the
redhead would have liked. She strode across the room to drag
him nearer. "You must be Cass. I'm Dr. Pine. Come on and
say hello to your new brother."
Amanda smiled up at him. The baby was in her arms,
wrapped in a blue-striped white blanket. She pulled back a
comer of it so he could see the tiny face and hands, colored
the deepest rose.
The sound of wonder in his own voice surprised him. "I
... I thought they all looked like little red monkeys."
"Some do," Dr. Pine said. "Maybe you did, with that
snow-white skin you've got. What about it, Mrs. Taylor? Did
your big fella here look like that when he was bom?"
Amanda made a noncommittal sound.
"We're naming him Paul Henry," Jeff said proudly.
"After my father." He threw his arm around Cass's thin shoul-
ders and hugged him close, beaming. "Truth be told, we'd
name him after this fine young man right here, if we could. If
not for him and his driving, little Paui'd be named Subaru."
"Well, you can't very well name one brother after the
other," the doctor agreed.
Cass sidled forward unobtrusively and slipped his hand
beneath Amanda's blankets. Something crinkled.
"Are you comfortable. Mother?"
Amanda knew what he was really asking. "Yes, love. I
don't mind these pads at all. They're specially made water-
proof to protect the real bed linens, and they can be thrown
away so—"
ELF DEFENSE 7
"Where?"
The question was sharp, urgent. Jeff heard it, and sud-
denly he too heard more than the simple word.
"Oh my God! The delivery room!"
He ran from Amanda's bedside with Cass after him.
Cass's keen ear just caught the doctor's confused questions,
Amanda's soothing double-talk: Well, you know how funny men
get at a time like this, doctor. . . .
The delivery room was clean. No one was there, though
the lights still burned. There was no sign of the recent birth.
Once more it was just another examination room where little
kids came for shots and grown-ups came for bigger, more mys-
terious reasons.
Jeff jammed his foot down on the wastecan pedal. It was
empty, smelling strongly of disinfectant. The plastic dropcloth
that had wrapped Amanda was nowhere around.
He looked miserable. "I—got so excited when my son
was bom . . . Cass, where do you think they put . . . ?"
"How should I know?" Cass snapped. "Find the one
who did this while you were supposed to be taking care of
Amanda. Fine care!" He laughed, his face frozen.
They found the nurse in the office, toweling her hair with
one hand while she typed hunt-and-peck with the other. She
smiled when she saw the two of them. "Still putting it down
out there, but not so bad as before."
Jeff grabbed her by the shoulders. Cass noted that she
didn't glower at him for taking such liberties. All she could do
was gape.
"Where is it?" Jeff demanded. He shook her once, just
a little, but it was enough to freeze her tongue. "Where is it?"
"The plastic tarp," Cass said quietly, laying his hand
atop Jeff's, making him let the nurse go.
"Well, I—well, what in . . . ? Well, I—I threw it out
with the rest of the things when I tidied up the room. I—look,
mister, are you fresh out of your mind? What the hell you want
to keep that old plastic sheet for? A goddamn souvenirT'
"Where is it?" Cass repeated calmly. He wasn't angry
anymore. Anger was useless now.
The nurse got some of her backbone back. She shook
herself completely free of Jeff, pushed her wheeled desk chair
away from them both, and retrieved the towel she'd dropped.
"The dumpster." She attacked her damp hair briskly. "What
do you think we do with trash? Can't leave a mess like that
hanging 'round a clinic room. We've got patients coming in
the morning, you know. Damn thing belled out like a sail, too,
in that wind. Have to get Lonnie to police the back parking lot
tomorrow, get all the bits and pieces blew free. Ugh." She
tossed the towel onto her desk. "Is that enough information
for you? Or do you want to call in the police, have me arrested
for stealing a mucked-up plastic sheet?"
Cass drew Jeff away. The budier man looked stunned. He
could only shake his head while Cass led'him out of the clinic by
the back way. The intermittent flashes of lightning from the de-
parting storm showed the dumpster's massive outline against the
rippling waters of the bay. White flutters of loose paper whirled in
the wind, pitched up against the roots of azaleas.
"The sea," Jeff said. His voice was flat.
"Yes. Some may have blown into the sea. Some touch
the earth, and earth and sea both house his messengers. He
knows. He'll come." Cass sounded resigned. He tugged at
Jeff's elbow. "Come on. We have to get Amanda and the baby
into the car and get out of here. He'll lose the trail if we're
quick."
Jeff's eyes remained fixed on the wavelets, the slowly
growing motion of the sea. He would not budge.
"And what will he do if we're gone when he gets here?
Go home?"
"You know better than that."
Jeff nodded. "He doesn't take defeat kindly." He jerked
his arm out of Cass's grip. His voice lost all fear, became pure
business. "Go get Amanda. The doctor'll try to stop you, but
do it anyway. Use anything you've got to do it."
"Amanda said I wasn't to—"
"Forget your vow. This is one time you can be a prince
again. No orders but your own,"
"What are you going to do?" Jeff's abrupt transforma-
tion was disconcerting. Pear of the unknown enfolded Cass's
heart in the petals of an icy rose. / will never understand your
kind, never!
"What do you care what I do?" Suddenly, Jeff was grin-
ning. "You'll have her all to yourself again; her and the boy."
...
Januszek66