When Mac finally hung up the phone, he wasn’t sure whether to be excited or terrified. The HR rep had agreed that he would get back to him in two days with whether he had gotten the job. That would leave him one last day in the house before he had to risk a night in a public shelter surrounded by elves too one-track minded to work a basic job.
It was with quite some trepidation that he answered another international call two days later, “Mac speaking. How can I help you?”
“Vivian McDonald?” the very pleasant but… somehow off… female voice questioned.
“Guilty as charged,” Mac replied.
“We would hope that could be avoided,” the somewhat stilted voice replied. “My name is Stephanie Hafliff with Hench Helpful Help. I am calling in regard to your application.”
“Go on,” Mac replied hopefully even as he regretted his previous choice of words.
“I am pleased to inform you that you have been provisionally accepted into the HeHeHe employee development program,” the youngish voice with just a hint of an Isle lilt announced encouragingly. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. “How soon could you start?”
“Tomorrow,” Mac answered honestly, “If I can find someone to take care of my son while I take care of in-processing.”
“No need to worry about that, Mr. McDonald,” Stephanie replied. “Our benefits program begins immediately which includes our 24/7 Future Centers. Of course, your son would need to be flown out to the location with you. I could make travel arrangements for both you and Zach, now, if you like?”
“Really?” Had Mac mentioned his son’s name before? Maybe they found it in a routine background check.
“Oh, yes,” the friendly voice on the other side of the phone answered. “We have a Future Center connected to the in-processing site which would allow you to spend time with your son during off hours. You are also in luck. We have a new class starting next week that we are quite excited about.”
“That’s great,” Mac replied. Finally, a break. “Hey Zach,” Mac covered the phone and smiled at his son, “you’ll be able to come with me!”
A smile erupted on Zach’s face as he leaped up to hug his dad’s legs, inadvertently tripping Mac and dropping them both to the ground. The phone bounced out of his hand and skittered across the floor.
“Mr. MacDonald?” The tinny voice probed the empty air. “Are you there? Mr. MacDonald?”
Mac disentangled his legs from his son’s grip and started crawling across the floor.
“I do not know, sir,” the tinny female voice replied faintly to someone who must have been in the room with her on the other side of the call. “The scouts did not report spotting any intruder.” Then louder again, “Mr. MacDonald, are you there? Hello?” Her accented voice sounded rather concerned.
Mac practically dove on the top of the phone and spoke quickly as he finally brought it back to his mouth, “Sorry, I’m okay. Accidentally dropped the phone, there.”
“That is a relief. I was afraid something might have happened to you,” Stephanie replied. Mac thought he heard another voice behind her say, “Stand down,” but he dismissed it for line interference. His service provider was not exactly top of the line.
“I’m fine, thank you for your concern,” Mac smiled from where he lay on the ground. Zach was crouched beside him, face beaming happily.
“Shall we continue with the arrangements?” Miss Hafliff offered pleasantly.
Mac’s mind wandered back to trying to place her accent as he replied, “Let’s.”
“Your offer letter will be in your email Mr. MacDonald. If you could send that back with a notice of acceptance attached, we’ll allow you to formally sign it upon your arrival. Any questions?”
“No. I assume the terms are the same I worked out with Vlad Romonov?” Mac double checked. The pay was not that great, but the benefits were phenomenal, although he had to wonder why temporal-distortion insurance was included (and retroactive for that matter).
“You did get along okay with Vlad?” the female speaker sounded as if she were treading on glass.
“Yep. He seemed alright, I guess. Something about hermit crabs bother…” Mac began to reply.
“Mr. MacDonald, let me stop you. That topic is… best not mentioned at HeHeHe,” Miss Hafliff advised him almost painfully.
“Okay…” Mac replied into the awkward silence that followed. More silence and what sounded like muffled argument from the other side. It was getting a bit awkward, so he tried again, “The terms I spoke with Vlad about, particularly the medical bills. Those are still the same, right?”
“Correct,” she replied almost too late. There was the sound of impossibly fast typing followed by a short unlady-like curse then more fast typing, not quite as fast this time. Did she just break a nail? “I can have you fly out of your regional airport around eighteen hundred tomorrow and arrive about sixteen hundred local. Does that work?”
Leaving that late from the airport would mean having to sit around the airport for a while as the house would not be an option. There was something else about the question that seemed off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Sure,” Mac answered. “I can use the bus here, but what will I need to do for transportation to your campus?” It was an honest question seeing as his credit card had been discontinued.
“I was just getting to that,” Stephanie answered, there was relief in her voice for some reason beyond Mac’s understanding. “You will meet two or three others at the airport, possibly five, and be transported by a van. The driver is named Skylar O’Higgins…”
Mac heard what sounded like a face-palm from the other side of the phone followed by a muffled, “It will be fine.”
The woman continued, “He will be holding up a sign with your name on it. When he tells you that he had a long drive from the country you need to reply…” Someone on the other side interrupted her, “what?... Oh, that’s right… Never mind. Just follow the sign and get in the white van. It will smell like old taffy. There was really no other way cover up the… just get in the van.”
“So… follow the sign to the candy van?” Mac couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “You’re sure this is safe for my boy?”
Mac could imagine the woman with her pained face beneath her palm, “It’s… Yes. You’ll both be fine. I am actually on location and may assist you with your paperwork upon your arrival,” she sounded like she was back on script again. Wasn’t this an international call? Mac temporarily held the phone back to check the number. Yep. International. Just what kind of plane was he getting on?
“Will I need some snacks on this flight?” Mac asked quite logically.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“Do not worry,” Miss Hafliff replied confidently, “We always take care of our employees and their families. Do you mind if we provide a taxi to get you to the airport?”
“How do you…?”
“It is a customary service, Mr. MacDonald. Employee safety is one of our top concerns. Great candidates are hard enough to find and recruit. We would not want anything to compro… happen to you.”
“Sounds okay,” Mac answered.
“Excellent, our… Landon will pick you up at ten-hundred.”
“Elf?”
“Naturally.”
“Green shirt?” Mac ignored the inadvertent pun.
“How did you know?” Miss Hafliff seemed genuinely surprised.
“Call it a hunch,” Mac replied even as he shook his head. It was a job.
As he hung up the phone, Mac turned to Zach who was still perched on the floor beside him and gave him a big smile and a thumbs up. “I got the job, Zach! We’re going to have a roof over our heads after all.”
“Yay, Daddy!” Zach responded as he leapt into his dad’s arms. “And I get to come with you!”
“Of course,” Mac replied as he spun his adorable kid around. “You’ll stay in something called a Future Center during the day, and I’ll get to see you in the evenings, and probably all weekend. I think you might even make some interesting new friends.”
XXXXX
Mac stepped off the smallish airplane into the airport terminal with his son holding his hand and pulling a small rolling suitcase behind him. He had been forced to feign sleep to avoid conversing with the elf seated beside him. There was only so much he could endure when it came to information on the unique properties of rare flowers despite taking an elective class in college on the subject. There had been this cute girl… “I wonder whatever happened to her?” he said aloud as her face drifted through his memory.
The terminal was smaller than Mac expected but still reasonably busy. There also seemed to be significantly fewer humans represented than he was used to back home. He couldn’t help but notice that the HeHeHe branding logo, “Helpful help” with triple H’s making a triangular aiming site above it, seemed to be everywhere. Mac absently wondered how well that translated into other languages.
A dark-haired female vampire with her hair cut to her chin was perched atop her single suitcase as he exited the building. That struck him as all kinds of odd. Weren’t they supposed to be super strong and overly vain? She was even wearing lace up boots and loose red leggings. It was the vampire equivalent of wearing a flour sack. Where was her sensual sense of style? Maybe she was down on her luck like he was. Regardless. She was a vampire, so he put some distance between them and settled down on the other side of the door to wait for the van. He settled Zach atop a suitcase on the other side of him just to be safe.
The van pulled up a few minutes later and a sign floated out with four names on it; Natalia Pardova, Grist (just Grist), Joe Campbell, and Vivian McDonald. Drone technology was amazing. That must be the sign Miss Hafliff had mentioned. “Well, Zach. It looks like our ride is here,” Mac stood to his feet and gave the non-descript white van with tinted windows a quick look over. There was just enough rust around the wheel wells to convince him it wasn’t a government vehicle.
“Why can I see through the man holding up the sign, Daddy?” Zach asked as he tilted his head.
“It’s just a drone, son,” Mac responded with a forced smile. “There’s no one there.” He absently wondered what had happened to Mr. O’Higgins, who was supposed to be their driver, maybe he was piloting the drone that would drive the van. Big corporations were known for that kind of nonsense.
“That no one with the pointy ears just opened the door for us. Should we get in?” Zach asked innocently.
Mac ignored the unacceptable parts of that comment and answered simply, “Yes.”
The extra-long van was missing two rows of seats by the door, so Mac and his son moved to the back row after dropping their suitcase in the rear. Sure enough, it had the sickly-sweet smell of old taffy that couldn’t make up its mind whether it wanted to mold away or cling to its original form.
“Daddy!” Zach piped up as he revealed his find, “They left candy for us on our seats.”
“Don’t eat that,” Mac replied responsibly.
“But…”
“Just slide it between the cushions so it can be with its friends,” Mac ordered firmly.
“Awww…” Zach frowned as he obeyed.
The down-on-her-luck vampire lady followed them in and seated herself in the corner opposite Mac with Zach rather uncomfortably between them, “Hi there,” she smiled, revealing characteristic fangs and waved slightly at Zach.”
“Hi, lady,” Zach responded with the normal cheerfulness of an adventurous four-year-old. “I’m Zach, what’s your name.” Mac inwardly cringed, you weren’t supposed to tell vampires your name. It lets them find you later.
“I’m Natalia. Pleased to mee-cha,” she genuinely smiled again and held out her pale hand in greeting. Her accent was totally out of place. Since when did vampires talk with a Northern North Vespucian accent? Maybe she had been accidentally inducted into a clan while young and not indentured. There were stories. They usually didn’t end well for the uninitiated… or the people around them. Villages wiped out, small business destroyed, total party kills; that kind of thing. Probably best to keep contact to a minimum.
Zach happily reached out his hand and shook hers. “Are you going to be working with my daddy?”
“My, aren’t-cha a sweety,” Natalia replied. “The nice lady on the phone said we were all going to be in a special class. I’m sure we’ll spend lots of time together.” She then turned to look when the van suddenly lurched to the right as a troll stepped inside.
“Grist,” the troll pounded his chest once. Then he motioned to a dainty greying girl with big, round glasses stepping in behind him, “Janessa.” The young girl saw the partially open seat between Zach and Natalia and quickly occupied it grinning at each in turn.
“Looks like you’re not the only one with family along, don-cha know,” the vampire observed to Mac then reached her hand out to Janessa, “Hi there, I’m Natalia.”
The cute young troll responded, “I’m Janessa. I’m four,” she held up a full hand in obvious miscount, or perhaps intentional lie. It was hard to tell with female trolls or trollips as they were often called. She then shook the vampire’s hand. At least there was someone between his son and the vampire.
Zach tapped the young girl on the leg to get her attention and announced his name as well.
“Mac,” our hero announced his name to Grist. Might as well start off on the right foot. If he could make friends with the troll, it would increase the odds of his survival dramatically, which seemed more important with every passing moment.
The side door of the van closed just as another person slid into the passenger seat beside the non-existent driver. Logically, that had to be the Joe Campbell mentioned on the sign. Mac could just make out the chiseled chin-line of the final entrant when Joe turned his head to observe the empty drivers’ seat. The engine started and the van lurched to life despite the absence of anyone one in the aforementioned seat. Technology was amazing, Mac reasoned.
He allowed himself to look out the window as he half-listened to the gentle banter between his son and Janessa as they talked about their strange flights, the food, and how great their dads were. That last one made him smile. The open plain soon gave way to forested hills covered in evergreens and thick grass. It wasn’t long before they turned off the highway and started down a curvy two-lane road that didn’t do much to ease his stomach. At least he hadn’t eaten recently.
“Stop, please,” The large troll sitting on the open floor asked. “Not feel well.” The non-existent driver quickly eased to a stop, but before the side door could be opened, Grist lost the contents of his stomach onto the floor of the van. The smell… words have difficulty describing the smell. Perhaps if one were to mix mac & cheese in vodka, swirl it with mold and let it sit out in the sun for a few days, you might communicate the fourth part of the stench that rose up.
Natalia put a hand to her mouth in a stifled gag reflex. She seemed to be trying to keep her eyes from rolling up into her head. Mac fought bravely to keep the few contents of his stomach down, but Zach sprayed the peanuts from the airplane against the back of the seat in front of him eliciting, an “Oh cool. Do it again!” from the light-grey tyke beside him.
Air. Mac needed air. The pure, mountain fresh kind if at all possible, but gym sock left in the bag for two months would be better than the current supply. The van door opened just in time for Grist to heave another stomach load mercifully onto the ground outside. Mac thought he heard some comment about needing troll sized handles on the van fleet, but dismissed it immediately. There was no one there to make that comment even if there was an element of wisdom to it.
Mac finally loosened the window and sucked in some fresh air from outside. The wind was at least was in the right direction. Zach threw up again, and the trollip beside him cheered gleefully.
He noted Natalia control another involuntary lurch. Weren’t vampires supposed to be tougher than that? Of course, the stench was pretty bad.
It wasn’t much later that the van, still with every window open, pulled up to a small rickety looking gatehouse standing in the middle of nowhere, which was by far the best description of any direction he might choose to look. A uniformed human guard wandered out of the gatehouse wearing the company’s trademark grey starched into lines sharp enough to cut a boot-leather steak like the kind they served during his internship for employee appreciation. The stiff guard curiously peered in the open windows of the van at the occupants as if searching for someone specific. He may or may not have seen what he was looking for then asked the non-existent driver for identification.
Mac watched as an employee ID obviously controlled by some invisible technologically advanced tractor beam floated out the window and into the security guard’s hand. The guard scanned it with a blocky looking handheld device and then passed it back to what had to be the tractor beam area of effect. The card floated back down to the seat and the guard went back inside the dilapidated shack and smashed a button. That opened a dented gate that looked more like a decorated veteran still fulfilling his oath than a wounded private doing a menial job. The road behind it led around a bend through the trees to a large tunnel drilled straight into the hillside.
An almost impossibly large troll was crouching outside this portal in the shade of a large camo tarp strung between the trees. Grist muttered something resembling awe as the grey mass of muscle and sinew uncurled to full height. The human sitting in shotgun murmured a veiled curse as well. That was by far the biggest troll Mac had ever seen in his life, and he had met some sizable ones in his younger days.
“He’s… strong,” the young trollip remarked as her mouth fell open in awe revealing what rather suspiciously looked like the candy Mac had ordered his son to slide between the seats.
The troll didn’t even try to talk with the driver, but simply opened the tunnel gate by pulling a lever the size of Janessa. That had to be the same piece. A single row of lights lit up the tunnel revealing a welcome sign painted in such garish tones an elf would risk a seizure just looking at it. The white van edged into the tunnel before taking an abrupt turn to the side and angling downward in a spiral which lasted for some time.
Just as he was starting to wonder if Grist was about to get sick again, it seemed like the tunnel stopped and a great cavern opened up before them. Massive lights were set in the ceiling far above them, and smaller lights shined from what looked like windows in the walls around the great cavern.
Mac didn’t even notice the van had stopped until the side door opened using that strange drone technology again. A sign floated in the air stating, “Welcome to Cave 9 or Cave Inn as the instructors call it. Grab your bags and follow me to the in-processing center.”
“Wonderful,” Mac thought aloud as several falling pebbles bounced off his shoulder from somewhere above him leaving tiny spots of dust on his shirt, “At least it’s a roof.”
An echoing thundering sound followed a moment later accompanied by even more pebbles raining down and plinking off the van behind him. Perhaps that last comment was an overstatement.
