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<blockquote data-quote="Deuce Traveler" data-source="post: 3054639" data-attributes="member: 34958">The 22nd Anniversary of a Homecoming&quot;In other news, Delta Airlines Flight 237 took off from Atlanta today and had a near miss with a white, winged horse known as a pegasus.&nbsp; After the pilot was forced to make an emergency landing, the airport was closed for most of the morning, as government officials attempted to follow the creature in order to tranquilize it.&nbsp; After a two-hour chase, the frightened and exhausted pegasus finally touched down thirty miles north of Macon, where local police and wildlife officials were able to shoot it with horse tranquilizers.&nbsp; Lucky, as the pegasus has been named, will be placed in a zoo where officials say it should be safe from danger, and also become a tourist attraction.&nbsp; There was some unfound concern that Lucky may have been able to take back off into the air after being tranquilized, which would likely have resulted in his death from falling and possible severe property damage since he seemed to enjoy residential areas...&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Coach sighed, pulling his face away from the television and back to his drink.&nbsp; &quot;I wish they'd turn that off,&quot; he said, taking a drink from his beer.&nbsp; &nbsp; I nodded in a sympathetic gesture that I didn't feel.&nbsp; Emotions weren't an issue since I had just taken one of my pills that my psychiatrist prescribed me.&nbsp; Using some psychobabble I picked up, I scolded the older man. &quot;You just blame yourself for things you can't control.&nbsp; It's better to just accept things as they are and move on with your life as best you can.&quot;&nbsp; I took a sip of my orange juice.&nbsp; Alcohol and my yellow pills are not to be mixed.&nbsp; &nbsp; He just smiled at that, the scar tissue on his jaw flexing like leather.&nbsp; &quot;No Robert.&nbsp; I guess I'm more upset that you and I are the only ones that showed up.&quot;&nbsp; His gaze fell upon the four empty chairs at the table and the banner that read 'Happy Twenty-Second Anniversary!'&nbsp; &quot;I guess I at least expected to see your sister.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I just shrugged.&nbsp; &quot;They didn't show up last year, and she was the only one to come the time before that.&nbsp; I don't know why you thought that would change.&nbsp; Should we give them another hour?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;No.&nbsp; Let's just each take a piece of the cake and go,&quot; he said in a defeated voice.&nbsp; He looked at the frosted dessert beside us, then at the stump that used to be his right arm, and asked, &quot;Ummm... Robert.&nbsp; Would you mind?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Not a problem,&quot; I answered with a smile.&nbsp; I had already cut his steak for him earlier.&nbsp; I enjoyed helping Coach.&nbsp; I felt like I was giving something back to a man who treated me as an older brother.&nbsp; Or a father.&nbsp; After cutting out two slices, I ate mine in numb bliss.&nbsp; He only ate half of his, lacking my appetite.&nbsp; Then it was time to pay the bartender and leave.&nbsp; &nbsp; Coach moved out from the table, his cane supporting the weight for his mangled leg.&nbsp; He was still in shape for a 40-year old, although I was by far the larger of the two of us, and my body still young at only thirty-two years of wear and tear.&nbsp; As he gained his balance, he looked at me and smiled.&nbsp; &quot;Thanks for being here, Robert.&nbsp; It means a lot to me that at least someone still makes our get-togethers.&nbsp; How much do you owe this year?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Despite my medication, I sputtered, then exclaimed, &quot;Coach!&nbsp; C'mon!&nbsp; I don't come here for money!&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;No, but that doesn't mean you don't need it, Robert.&nbsp; How much this year?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I grimaced, and had a mind to storm away from him.&nbsp; But he was right.&nbsp; I was about to have the electricity and phone cut off.&nbsp; &quot;Two thousand,&quot; I answered, my eyes downcast.&nbsp; &quot;I'm trying, Coach.&nbsp; I really am.&nbsp; If it wasn't for the medication, I'd break even this year.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; He just smiled at me, tucked his cane under the armpit of his stub, and patted me gently on the shoulder.&nbsp; &quot;If it wasn't for the medication, it's likely you wouldn't have a job.&nbsp; I'm proud of you, Robert.&nbsp; I really am.&nbsp; I'll bring the money by later,&quot; he said and walked away, whistling to himself.&nbsp; &nbsp; I stared at him until he turned a corner and disappeared from my sight.&nbsp; I lied to myself, saying that I wouldn't take the money from him.&nbsp; Not from Coach.&nbsp; I began to feel my hands clench from agitation and anger.&nbsp; I wanted to hit something.&nbsp; I scrambled for my bottle of pills, popped it open, grabbed a yellow pill that looked more for a horse, and swallowed it down.&nbsp; I began to walk home, and did some counting exercises to help myself relax.&nbsp; Along the way I thought of Coach.&nbsp; &nbsp; Ironically, no one called him Coach until after he had lost his arm and then taken his current athletics job at the local high school.&nbsp; Before that, he considered himself a hero, trying to seal the portals that were opening between our world and another where magic was reality.&nbsp; In hindsight, he was naive.&nbsp; There were special forces for that sort of thing and no reason for people like us to get involved.&nbsp; Well, no reason except a sense of guilt, I suppose.&nbsp; &nbsp; I still remember seeing his last fight after I had gotten home one spring day from high school.&nbsp; Portals between our world and the next open regularly, but usually for only a very brief amount of time.&nbsp; Normally, the people of Earth avoid entering one when it opens.&nbsp; Creatures from the other side are a bit more adventurous, however, and usually make the leap through.&nbsp; This time, two fiendish canines called hellhounds had entered one and ended up inside a nearby mall.&nbsp; Coach somehow knew a portal would open there and was ready, actually tackling a hellhound as it jumped at a small girl.&nbsp; The mall cameras showed one of the hellhounds breathing flame at his feet, which melted his skin and mangled his left leg.&nbsp; The other creature bit deep into his right arm, partially severing it.&nbsp; A lesser man would have gone into shock and died.&nbsp; Coach instead pulled out the .38 he always carried and shot them through their eyes with his off-hand.&nbsp; He never was one to miss with a ranged attack.&nbsp; No one thought that he would survive, but a charity fund was developed in his honor, and a surprising amount of donated money helped pave his way to a speedy recovery.&nbsp; But his hero days were over.&nbsp; He took a coaching job, and insisted we call him 'Coach' ever since.&nbsp; It was his way of accepting the death of his old identity and embracing his new, crippled life.&nbsp; Out of all of us, I think my sister took his new handicap the hardest.&nbsp; &nbsp; I pushed it out of my mind.&nbsp; It looked as if I would have my own concerns.&nbsp; Two Buicks were parked outside my small house, sparkling with a newness that clashed with the wreck that was my neighborhood.&nbsp; Several men wearing expensive suits and sunglasses stood outside on my sorry excuse for a lawn.&nbsp; One tall, white hair man stood watching me patiently, his hands clasped in front of him.&nbsp; The other four were shorter than a normal man, but also wider, with bluish skin and pale-yellow hair.&nbsp; Derro.&nbsp; I calculated that the rest of my day wasn't going to enjoyable.&nbsp; &nbsp; A small clan of derro once came through a portal that lasted longer than most, and had run off the old mafia here in New Jersey.&nbsp; From bits and pieces of what I had heard, they've also been trying to get a foothold into New York with mixed results.&nbsp; Their dominance in the criminal racket stemmed from a natural cunning and ruthlessness.&nbsp; They had intimidated just about anyone active in the underworld important enough to attract their notice.&nbsp; Their favorite technique involved kneecapping, which the derro enjoyed with a sadistic vigor.&nbsp; Most people are afraid of being shot.&nbsp; Every sane person is terrified of being brought down from a strike to the knee by a twisted, pupilless dwarf with a skin condition and a baseball bat.&nbsp; It was said they had a particular dislike for taller humans.&nbsp; Since I am standing a few inches over six feet, I should have quickly walked back to the restaurant.&nbsp; Thanks to Mr. Yellow Pill, I decided to walk up to them and see what they wanted.&nbsp; &nbsp; The tall human came up to me with a dour expression, but a pleasant half-smile.&nbsp; Shaking my hand, he said in a gruff, but educated voice, &quot;Mister Robert Davies, so good to see you.&nbsp; My name is Dontello, and I represent a client that would like to speak to you for a moment inside your home.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;What if I'm busy?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;I assure you it's a one time offer you can't refuse.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I looked at him for a moment, then at one of the derro who was fingering the handle of a baseball bat and decided I would like to have company.&nbsp; &quot;Sure, but the place is a mess right now,&quot; I said in all seriousness.&nbsp; A voice inside of me screamed that I really should stop the medication.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Dontello translated my words to the rest of his group and the derro took out a wheelchair, while the drivers of both cars came out to help an elderly derro into it, along with his dialysis machine.&nbsp; This older derro looked sickly, his frail hands gripping hard to the controls of his machine, and his head wore a helm with two horns that no longer properly fit his shriveled frame.&nbsp; A wooden baseball bat with the word 'Louisville' was strapped to the side of his wheelchair.&nbsp; I made the assumption that this was their clan chief, and I allowed his entourage to push my new guest of honor in first.&nbsp; I only had a few chairs inside the house, but I grabbed the most comfortable one before anyone else could.&nbsp; I was king of this castle, after all.&nbsp; &nbsp; Dontello grabbed a stool, sat across from me, and got right to business.&nbsp; &quot;Nice place you got here.&nbsp; Real nice place, Robbie.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Robert.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; He continued as if he didn't hear me.&nbsp; &quot;Now Bobby, we have need of your services.&nbsp; You're in the repossession business, from what we understand, and there is something that is ours that we would like repossessed from someone that took it.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I blinked in surprise.&nbsp; They wanted to hire me, not pummel me for some previous slight.&nbsp; &quot;Well, repossession is a tricky business.&nbsp; You have to be sure the law is on your side and all your paperwork processed before I can just walk in and take away someone's property.&nbsp; That property can only be taken if it was used for collateral in an agreement before you and the other individual,&quot; I explained.&nbsp; &nbsp; The elder derro took a breath of oxygen from a canister next to him and grumbled at Dontello in a guttural language.&nbsp; Dontello nodded and said, &quot;The boss here says not to worry about the legalities of the situation.&nbsp; Do this for us, and we promise to keep the city off your back.&nbsp; We've got most of it on our payroll anyway.&nbsp; Also, the boss wants to let you know that he's willing to pay you well for this.&nbsp; Three thousand dollars up front, and seven thousand more when you recover our property.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; My heart skipped a beat in excitement.&nbsp; With that kind of money, I wouldn't need charity from Coach.&nbsp; I might even be able to pay back some of the money he's given me over the years.&nbsp; &quot;Tell me more.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; The dour man nodded while the derro smiled.&nbsp; &quot;Look here, Robbie,&quot; he said, handing me a newspaper clipping.&nbsp; It showed a picture of a fat man named Steven Ray holding up what looked to be a heart carved from a rock.&nbsp; &quot;This man found something that the boss here says is his.&nbsp; It must have fallen into our world through a portal.&nbsp; We approached the man at his work and he says that he doesn't have it anymore, and that he sold it to some collector who didn't give him a name.&nbsp; We have a feeling that he might not like the derro or those that work for them,&quot; Dontello said sadly.&nbsp; &quot;We could break Mr. Ray's legs, but the man doesn't get off of work for another five hours, and we would rather not make a public spectacle.&nbsp; Perhaps you can approach him and track down both the collector and the item.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;What if Mr. Ray doesn't help me, either,&quot; I asked.&nbsp; &nbsp; Dontello shrugged.&nbsp; &quot;Then we'll wait for him to get off from work and break his kneecaps.&quot;&nbsp; The elder derro snickered.&nbsp; &quot;Sometimes, people don't respond as well to pain.&nbsp; They sometimes lie just to make it stop.&nbsp; In this one case, we'll let you work your way and hope for a truthful answer.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I was beginning not to like this.&nbsp; &quot;Let me get this straight.&nbsp; You want me to recover this heart made of rock.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dontello shook his head.&nbsp; &quot;It's a heartstone.&nbsp; We want you to quest for the heartstone.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;It sounds like there are plenty of other men who could do the same job for you.&nbsp; So why me?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Why, Bobby?&nbsp; The boss here appreciates your work.&nbsp; You're a legend in the underworld of this city.&nbsp; Everyone knows your exploits.&nbsp; Do you remember Bosnia?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I tried not to.&nbsp; I had joined the military shortly after high school.&nbsp; &quot;Yes, I remember Bosnia.&nbsp; Some local warlords kept having their boys take potshots at us.&nbsp; We knew where they hung out, but were unable to do anything about it since we only had no hard evidence.&nbsp; I was able to bring five of the bastards in after I cracked some heads, which kept the remnants of their group quiet for some time.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;The direct approach is often the best approach.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Yes, but I jumped the security fence and went into town on my own free time to bring them in.&nbsp; I ended up wrecking the bar they were drinking at and seven vehicles.&nbsp; I was kicked out of the military for that one.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;With an honorable discharge.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;I was still let go.&nbsp; They would have court-martialled me if it weren't for the fact that one of my prisoners was wanted on trial for war crimes.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dontello sighed.&nbsp; &quot;No appreciation for talent.&quot;&nbsp; The elder derro mumbled something else.&nbsp; &quot;The boss also heard about that time you took up boxing.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Let go by my manager after I couldn't remember to stop fighting after the bell signaled it was time to go to my corner.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;You were a taxi driver for awhile.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Fired for speeding.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Pizza delivery man.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Same.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Joined the XFL.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Fired for unnecessary roughness.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dontello smiled like a shark.&nbsp; &quot;Bouncer at Club Reds.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;That was my job before this one.&nbsp; I got fired when the club was overly damaged after I got into a fight with a few guys who were trying to add another nostril to the bartender.&nbsp; These guys were a nasty sort.&nbsp; They were a pack of derro who had...&quot; my voice trailed off, and the elder derro gave another nasty snicker.&nbsp; &quot;Friends of yours,&quot; I asked.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Not a friend.&nbsp; The boss' great-great-great nephew,&quot; Dontello explained.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;So this isn't really about the job.&nbsp; You've come here to get revenge,&quot; I stated, my temper beginning to return.&nbsp; &nbsp; The elder derro said some more guttural words for his spokesman to translate.&nbsp; &quot;No, no, no.&nbsp; Please understand.&nbsp; The boss holds you in the highest regards.&nbsp; He feels that you taught his relative a very important lesson.&nbsp; One that will matter greatly if he ever has to fight to the death.&nbsp; But something must be done about you.&nbsp; Now if the boss gets you to work for him, he can say he co-opted you into the clan and everything can be forgotten about.&nbsp; It's actually quite merciful.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;And if I say no?&nbsp; Or fail to recover this item of yours?&nbsp; What happens?&nbsp; Do I get my kneecaps busted up?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; The elder derro said something short, but direct.&nbsp; Dontello translated once more.&nbsp; &quot;I'm afraid we only do that when we are annoyed.&nbsp; No, in the case of a refusal we would feel forced to have to deal with you using concrete shoes and a deep body of water.&nbsp; The derro learned a few things from the Italians.&nbsp; But if he had to resort to this, the boss would be as sad as a derro could be.&nbsp; Death would be wasted on a man of your ability to cause destruction.&nbsp; In case we have to kill you, please understand that it's just business.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I reached in my pocket for another yellow pill.* * *&nbsp; &nbsp; After being three thousand dollars richer, I followed Dontello's directions to Steven Ray's place of work, a water treatment plant outside of the city.&nbsp; I stopped my car inside a recreational park outside of the facility, put on a hard hat I brought with me, grabbed a clipboard, and walked inside the fenced area without being stopped.&nbsp; No one ever stops a man with a clipboard.&nbsp; I asked around for Mr. Ray and someone pointed him out to me, working at the top of one of the giant flow pumps.&nbsp; It took me a bit of climbing, but I finally reached the portly gentleman, who turned to face me (see Picture of Chubby Blonde Man).&nbsp; &quot;Mister Steven Ray,&quot; I asked.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Oh hell, what did I do wrong now,&quot; he asked, noticing my clipboard.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Nothing at all,&quot; I said, smiling at him and moving forward to shake his hand.&nbsp; &quot;I was allowed on the site because I'm a collector.&nbsp; I was hoping to buy that stone you found recently.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Oh, that,&quot; Steven said with a smile.&nbsp; &quot;Did you know I found it laying in my backyard of all things?&nbsp; I guess some portal opened up there.&nbsp; You're out of luck, though.&nbsp; I sold it last night to a different collector.&nbsp; She offered me a hundred thousand dollars for it if I agreed to accept cash and to give it to her at that very moment.&nbsp; It was a lot of money, and I've been thinking of putting in my two weeks notice and retiring early.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Congratulations,&quot; I said with more happiness than I felt.&nbsp; He wasn't giving me much to go on.&nbsp; &quot;Maybe I can track her down and buy it from her.&nbsp; What did she look like?&nbsp; Do you know how I can get in touch with her?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Steven scratched his chin for a moment and considered me.&nbsp; Finally he said, &quot;You seem like an honest enough fellow, so I'll tell you what I know.&nbsp; She was a redhead, and a looker, too.&nbsp; I'd say she was in her mid-thirties.&nbsp; I have her phone number, since it showed up on my cellphone,&quot; he said, as he scrambled in his pocket for the device.&nbsp; Taking it out, he showed me her number on the display and allowed me to copy it down.&nbsp; &quot;I don't mind telling you this, since I'm hoping you can pass a message onto her if things go well.&nbsp; Tell her that Steve...errr... me... that I'd like to take her out sometime with that money she gave me.&nbsp; Oh, and be careful with who you give that number to.&nbsp; She seemed like a nice girl, and there were some derro that swung by here earlier and took an unhealthy interest in the heart thing.&nbsp; Made me glad to be rid of it.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I promised to pass the message, and waved to him a goodbye as I left to return to the parking lot, feeling guilty for lying to him.&nbsp; I decided against jumping in my car and returning home, opting instead to take a long walk in the nearby recreational park and think.&nbsp; Coach always told me that I needed to use my head before jumping into things recklessly.&nbsp; There seemed to be some kind of fair going on underneath the shade of some trees.&nbsp; Curious, I began to move my way over there when my cellphone rang from a number I didn't recognize.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Hello,&quot; I said into the receiver.&nbsp; &nbsp; Dontello's voice was on the other line.&nbsp; &quot;Hello Robbie.&nbsp; Everything going alright with Mr. Ray or will we need to coerce him later?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I considered lying, then I considered concrete shoes and Steven Ray's kneecaps.&nbsp; &quot;Please tell your boss that everything's fine.&nbsp; He gave me the number of the woman that purchased the heartstone, and I'll be calling her shortly to arrange a meeting.&nbsp; I plan to negotiate a price with her and let you know how reasonable she is.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;That's excellent news.&nbsp; I can see why the boss thought to place his confidence in you.&nbsp; Bobby, please remember to give us that lady's number when next we meet, and do keep in touch with us.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; The connection was broken as Dontello hung up.&nbsp; I sighed and wondered if my day could get any more stressful, when I noticed that I had reached the outside of the fair.&nbsp; It was a bit morbid, with booths that displayed videos and pictures of creatures from the other world being tortured or kept in captivity.&nbsp; I could hear a woman yelling from a stage about the rights of stirges, and the unjust pesticides being created in laboratories to exterminate them.&nbsp; Above her was a sign that read PETPC - People for the Ethical Treatment of Portal Creatures.&nbsp; Next to me were two goofy-looking people, bouncing a pissed off looking homunculus on a blanket (see Picture of two happy, shiny people bouncing a ...thing on a blanket).&nbsp; They looked like they were having fun.&nbsp; The homunculus... not so much.&nbsp; I reached for my pill bottle.&nbsp; There was only so much stupidity I could take in a day.&nbsp; &nbsp; As I took out the bottle, the yellow homunculus leapt out of the blanket with fangs and teeth bared at me.&nbsp; I panicked, since such a creature is normally poisonous, and dropped my bottle.&nbsp; The creature landed at my feet, snagged the bottle, and took off into the woods before I had a chance to move.&nbsp; &quot;My pills...,&quot; I whispered in shock.&nbsp; I wondered what final task some crazy wizard left for the insane creature to make it act like that.&nbsp; &nbsp; The woman dropped her corner of the blanket and ran up to me.&nbsp; &quot;Are you ok,&quot; she asked with concern.&nbsp; &quot;Oh, I'm afraid that Bashful has misbehaved again.&nbsp; We've been trying to reform him, but he seems to have a thing for small containers.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; My mouth stayed hung open, as I was still in shock.&nbsp; Finally I asked slowly, &quot;You call that thing Bashful?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;It's not a thing,&quot; the man came up to me and yelled angrily.&nbsp; &quot;Portal creatures have feelings, too, you know.&nbsp; What if Bashful heard you?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I tried to do my counting exercises and closed my eyes for a moment.&nbsp; &quot;When will... Bashful... come back with my pills?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;He won't,&quot; the lady answered.&nbsp; &quot;We never can find anything once he hides it in the woods.&nbsp; Heck, we sometimes don't find him for months once he runs away, but we put out ads in the paper and around town, and someone always seems to locate him again.&nbsp; Never with the items he takes, though, that little rascal.&quot;&nbsp; Her smile disappeared when she saw my concerned face.&nbsp; &quot;Oh dear.&nbsp; I hope that medicine wasn't anything important.&quot;* * *&nbsp; &nbsp; I could feel my temper returning, which meant that I'd have to end this case soon before my emotions took over.&nbsp; I had a tendency to act before thinking and to destroy things when my emotions took over.&nbsp; I decided it was time to call the collector.&nbsp; &nbsp; After three rings a strangely familiar voice said, &quot;Hello, DM's collectibles.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Hi,&quot; I started hesitatingly.&nbsp; &quot;I'm looking for the woman who bought the heartstone.&nbsp; I'd like to buy it from her.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; There was a slight pause, followed by a question I didn't expect.&nbsp; &quot;Is this Robert Davies?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Ummm...yes,&quot; I answered.&nbsp; &nbsp; I heard a grunt of anger on the other side, &quot;Damn it, Robert, you don't have the money or interest to buy something like this.&nbsp; Who are you working for?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;I can't tell you who I'm working for,&quot; I admitted.&nbsp; &quot;Do I know you?&nbsp; Who is this?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; There was a long silence, broken by her asking, &quot;Can you meet me in the playground next to Anthony Wayne Middle School?&nbsp; In half an hour?&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Yes,&quot; I admitted.&nbsp; &quot;I can get there in less time than that if you...&quot;&nbsp; I was interrupted by a click and a flat tone.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;That was rude,&quot; I hissed and thought about tossing my cellphone across the parking lot.&nbsp; So far I had been feeling as if I was being railroaded, and I didn't much like the thought of not being in control of my own life.&nbsp; Jumping in my car, I drove my little Mitsubishi like a bat out of hell in order to blow some steam.&nbsp; I made the twenty-mile drive through the city in the same amount of minutes, which included five stops at traffic lights.&nbsp; &nbsp; I parked at the school and walked into the playground that I had spent my middle school years at (see Picture of the Metal Slide).&nbsp; I leaned the nape of my neck against the slide, which looked tiny to me now that I was an adult, its cold metal feeling good against my angry, hot skin.&nbsp; I waited another five minutes, impatiently singing the tune to Gilligan's Island for the sixth time before I saw a redheaded woman walking furiously towards me.&nbsp; It took me only a second later for me to recognize her.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Sis, what are you doing here,&quot; I asked dumbly.&nbsp; &nbsp; SMACK!&nbsp; My face stung as her hand lashed out to slap me.&nbsp; &quot;What do you think you're doing working for the derro, Robert,&quot; she demanded.&nbsp; She went to slap me again, but I caught her wrist.&nbsp; She saw the look in my eyes and said simply with angry undertones, &quot;You haven't been taking your pills.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I let her hand go gently.&nbsp; I couldn't stay angry at friends or family.&nbsp; &quot;No, I lost them when I was trying to track you down, Sheila.&nbsp; I'm on a limited schedule, since the derro are planning to knock off the gentleman who sold you the heartstone in the first place.&nbsp; They're also threatening my own safety if I don't locate it.&nbsp; I figured I could save the man's life if I played ball.&nbsp; I didn't know that I was going to involve you, too.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Sheila looked at me sadly, &quot;Robert, I'll give you the heartstone.&nbsp; I tried to get it away from them, but once we use the magic stored inside of it, it won't matter.&nbsp; The derro want the stone because it can restore the health of a crippled or diseased person who touches it.&nbsp; I got the blue heartstone for Coach.&nbsp; Once he's restored, we can give them the empty heartstone.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;They're not going to be happy about that,&quot; I said, officially becoming the master of the obvious.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;But you'll still be honoring their contract.&nbsp; It will be better than their chief being restored back to health instead of Coach.&nbsp; We got to take the chance, Robert,&quot; she begged me.&nbsp; &quot;We owe Coach.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;We do,&quot; I agreed and she visibly relaxed.&nbsp; &quot;Let's go to Coach's house and afterwards I'll face them with the empty stone.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;We'll face them,&quot; she said with a smile.&nbsp; &quot;You, Coach, and I.&nbsp; Just like before we returned home those decades ago.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; I started smiling from the thought, her mood contagious.&nbsp; &quot;Well, we'd be missing the other three, but...&quot;&nbsp; I stopped as my cellphone rang and I moved to answer it.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Mr. Davies, do you have the heartstone in your possession yet,&quot; Dontello asked.&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Ummm... no, I'm still working on it,&quot; I admitted.&nbsp; &quot;I'm going to need some more time.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;I understand.&nbsp; But just in case you have a change of heart, I just want to tell you that we picked up an acquaintance of yours that happened to come by your house before we drove off.&nbsp; We expect another sign of your success shortly, Bobby, or else your friend, Hank Brown, is going to join you in your swim.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;Who is that,&quot; Sheila asked in concern.&nbsp; &nbsp; Placing my hand over the cellphone I whispered to her, &quot;It's the derro.&nbsp; They have Coach.&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; The look of despair on her face was enough to make me want to weep.&nbsp; This led quickly to other strong emotions.&nbsp; I suddenly had a barbaric desire to smash derro heads.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Deuce Traveler, post: 3054639, member: 34958"] [b]The 22nd Anniversary of a Homecoming[/b] "In other news, Delta Airlines Flight 237 took off from Atlanta today and had a near miss with a white, winged horse known as a pegasus. After the pilot was forced to make an emergency landing, the airport was closed for most of the morning, as government officials attempted to follow the creature in order to tranquilize it. After a two-hour chase, the frightened and exhausted pegasus finally touched down thirty miles north of Macon, where local police and wildlife officials were able to shoot it with horse tranquilizers. Lucky, as the pegasus has been named, will be placed in a zoo where officials say it should be safe from danger, and also become a tourist attraction. There was some unfound concern that Lucky may have been able to take back off into the air after being tranquilized, which would likely have resulted in his death from falling and possible severe property damage since he seemed to enjoy residential areas..." Coach sighed, pulling his face away from the television and back to his drink. "I wish they'd turn that off," he said, taking a drink from his beer. I nodded in a sympathetic gesture that I didn't feel. Emotions weren't an issue since I had just taken one of my pills that my psychiatrist prescribed me. Using some psychobabble I picked up, I scolded the older man. "You just blame yourself for things you can't control. It's better to just accept things as they are and move on with your life as best you can." I took a sip of my orange juice. Alcohol and my yellow pills are not to be mixed. He just smiled at that, the scar tissue on his jaw flexing like leather. "No Robert. I guess I'm more upset that you and I are the only ones that showed up." His gaze fell upon the four empty chairs at the table and the banner that read 'Happy Twenty-Second Anniversary!' "I guess I at least expected to see your sister." I just shrugged. "They didn't show up last year, and she was the only one to come the time before that. I don't know why you thought that would change. Should we give them another hour?" "No. Let's just each take a piece of the cake and go," he said in a defeated voice. He looked at the frosted dessert beside us, then at the stump that used to be his right arm, and asked, "Ummm... Robert. Would you mind?" "Not a problem," I answered with a smile. I had already cut his steak for him earlier. I enjoyed helping Coach. I felt like I was giving something back to a man who treated me as an older brother. Or a father. After cutting out two slices, I ate mine in numb bliss. He only ate half of his, lacking my appetite. Then it was time to pay the bartender and leave. Coach moved out from the table, his cane supporting the weight for his mangled leg. He was still in shape for a 40-year old, although I was by far the larger of the two of us, and my body still young at only thirty-two years of wear and tear. As he gained his balance, he looked at me and smiled. "Thanks for being here, Robert. It means a lot to me that at least someone still makes our get-togethers. How much do you owe this year?" Despite my medication, I sputtered, then exclaimed, "Coach! C'mon! I don't come here for money!" "No, but that doesn't mean you don't need it, Robert. How much this year?" I grimaced, and had a mind to storm away from him. But he was right. I was about to have the electricity and phone cut off. "Two thousand," I answered, my eyes downcast. "I'm trying, Coach. I really am. If it wasn't for the medication, I'd break even this year." He just smiled at me, tucked his cane under the armpit of his stub, and patted me gently on the shoulder. "If it wasn't for the medication, it's likely you wouldn't have a job. I'm proud of you, Robert. I really am. I'll bring the money by later," he said and walked away, whistling to himself. I stared at him until he turned a corner and disappeared from my sight. I lied to myself, saying that I wouldn't take the money from him. Not from Coach. I began to feel my hands clench from agitation and anger. I wanted to hit something. I scrambled for my bottle of pills, popped it open, grabbed a yellow pill that looked more for a horse, and swallowed it down. I began to walk home, and did some counting exercises to help myself relax. Along the way I thought of Coach. Ironically, no one called him Coach until after he had lost his arm and then taken his current athletics job at the local high school. Before that, he considered himself a hero, trying to seal the portals that were opening between our world and another where magic was reality. In hindsight, he was naive. There were special forces for that sort of thing and no reason for people like us to get involved. Well, no reason except a sense of guilt, I suppose. I still remember seeing his last fight after I had gotten home one spring day from high school. Portals between our world and the next open regularly, but usually for only a very brief amount of time. Normally, the people of Earth avoid entering one when it opens. Creatures from the other side are a bit more adventurous, however, and usually make the leap through. This time, two fiendish canines called hellhounds had entered one and ended up inside a nearby mall. Coach somehow knew a portal would open there and was ready, actually tackling a hellhound as it jumped at a small girl. The mall cameras showed one of the hellhounds breathing flame at his feet, which melted his skin and mangled his left leg. The other creature bit deep into his right arm, partially severing it. A lesser man would have gone into shock and died. Coach instead pulled out the .38 he always carried and shot them through their eyes with his off-hand. He never was one to miss with a ranged attack. No one thought that he would survive, but a charity fund was developed in his honor, and a surprising amount of donated money helped pave his way to a speedy recovery. But his hero days were over. He took a coaching job, and insisted we call him 'Coach' ever since. It was his way of accepting the death of his old identity and embracing his new, crippled life. Out of all of us, I think my sister took his new handicap the hardest. I pushed it out of my mind. It looked as if I would have my own concerns. Two Buicks were parked outside my small house, sparkling with a newness that clashed with the wreck that was my neighborhood. Several men wearing expensive suits and sunglasses stood outside on my sorry excuse for a lawn. One tall, white hair man stood watching me patiently, his hands clasped in front of him. The other four were shorter than a normal man, but also wider, with bluish skin and pale-yellow hair. Derro. I calculated that the rest of my day wasn't going to enjoyable. A small clan of derro once came through a portal that lasted longer than most, and had run off the old mafia here in New Jersey. From bits and pieces of what I had heard, they've also been trying to get a foothold into New York with mixed results. Their dominance in the criminal racket stemmed from a natural cunning and ruthlessness. They had intimidated just about anyone active in the underworld important enough to attract their notice. Their favorite technique involved kneecapping, which the derro enjoyed with a sadistic vigor. Most people are afraid of being shot. Every sane person is terrified of being brought down from a strike to the knee by a twisted, pupilless dwarf with a skin condition and a baseball bat. It was said they had a particular dislike for taller humans. Since I am standing a few inches over six feet, I should have quickly walked back to the restaurant. Thanks to Mr. Yellow Pill, I decided to walk up to them and see what they wanted. The tall human came up to me with a dour expression, but a pleasant half-smile. Shaking my hand, he said in a gruff, but educated voice, "Mister Robert Davies, so good to see you. My name is Dontello, and I represent a client that would like to speak to you for a moment inside your home." "What if I'm busy?" "I assure you it's a one time offer you can't refuse." I looked at him for a moment, then at one of the derro who was fingering the handle of a baseball bat and decided I would like to have company. "Sure, but the place is a mess right now," I said in all seriousness. A voice inside of me screamed that I really should stop the medication. Dontello translated my words to the rest of his group and the derro took out a wheelchair, while the drivers of both cars came out to help an elderly derro into it, along with his dialysis machine. This older derro looked sickly, his frail hands gripping hard to the controls of his machine, and his head wore a helm with two horns that no longer properly fit his shriveled frame. A wooden baseball bat with the word 'Louisville' was strapped to the side of his wheelchair. I made the assumption that this was their clan chief, and I allowed his entourage to push my new guest of honor in first. I only had a few chairs inside the house, but I grabbed the most comfortable one before anyone else could. I was king of this castle, after all. Dontello grabbed a stool, sat across from me, and got right to business. "Nice place you got here. Real nice place, Robbie." "Robert." He continued as if he didn't hear me. "Now Bobby, we have need of your services. You're in the repossession business, from what we understand, and there is something that is ours that we would like repossessed from someone that took it." I blinked in surprise. They wanted to hire me, not pummel me for some previous slight. "Well, repossession is a tricky business. You have to be sure the law is on your side and all your paperwork processed before I can just walk in and take away someone's property. That property can only be taken if it was used for collateral in an agreement before you and the other individual," I explained. The elder derro took a breath of oxygen from a canister next to him and grumbled at Dontello in a guttural language. Dontello nodded and said, "The boss here says not to worry about the legalities of the situation. Do this for us, and we promise to keep the city off your back. We've got most of it on our payroll anyway. Also, the boss wants to let you know that he's willing to pay you well for this. Three thousand dollars up front, and seven thousand more when you recover our property." My heart skipped a beat in excitement. With that kind of money, I wouldn't need charity from Coach. I might even be able to pay back some of the money he's given me over the years. "Tell me more." The dour man nodded while the derro smiled. "Look here, Robbie," he said, handing me a newspaper clipping. It showed a picture of a fat man named Steven Ray holding up what looked to be a heart carved from a rock. "This man found something that the boss here says is his. It must have fallen into our world through a portal. We approached the man at his work and he says that he doesn't have it anymore, and that he sold it to some collector who didn't give him a name. We have a feeling that he might not like the derro or those that work for them," Dontello said sadly. "We could break Mr. Ray's legs, but the man doesn't get off of work for another five hours, and we would rather not make a public spectacle. Perhaps you can approach him and track down both the collector and the item." "What if Mr. Ray doesn't help me, either," I asked. Dontello shrugged. "Then we'll wait for him to get off from work and break his kneecaps." The elder derro snickered. "Sometimes, people don't respond as well to pain. They sometimes lie just to make it stop. In this one case, we'll let you work your way and hope for a truthful answer." I was beginning not to like this. "Let me get this straight. You want me to recover this heart made of rock." Dontello shook his head. "It's a heartstone. We want you to quest for the heartstone." "It sounds like there are plenty of other men who could do the same job for you. So why me?" "Why, Bobby? The boss here appreciates your work. You're a legend in the underworld of this city. Everyone knows your exploits. Do you remember Bosnia?" I tried not to. I had joined the military shortly after high school. "Yes, I remember Bosnia. Some local warlords kept having their boys take potshots at us. We knew where they hung out, but were unable to do anything about it since we only had no hard evidence. I was able to bring five of the bastards in after I cracked some heads, which kept the remnants of their group quiet for some time." "The direct approach is often the best approach." "Yes, but I jumped the security fence and went into town on my own free time to bring them in. I ended up wrecking the bar they were drinking at and seven vehicles. I was kicked out of the military for that one." "With an honorable discharge." "I was still let go. They would have court-martialled me if it weren't for the fact that one of my prisoners was wanted on trial for war crimes." Dontello sighed. "No appreciation for talent." The elder derro mumbled something else. "The boss also heard about that time you took up boxing." "Let go by my manager after I couldn't remember to stop fighting after the bell signaled it was time to go to my corner." "You were a taxi driver for awhile." "Fired for speeding." "Pizza delivery man." "Same." "Joined the XFL." "Fired for unnecessary roughness." Dontello smiled like a shark. "Bouncer at Club Reds." "That was my job before this one. I got fired when the club was overly damaged after I got into a fight with a few guys who were trying to add another nostril to the bartender. These guys were a nasty sort. They were a pack of derro who had..." my voice trailed off, and the elder derro gave another nasty snicker. "Friends of yours," I asked. "Not a friend. The boss' great-great-great nephew," Dontello explained. "So this isn't really about the job. You've come here to get revenge," I stated, my temper beginning to return. The elder derro said some more guttural words for his spokesman to translate. "No, no, no. Please understand. The boss holds you in the highest regards. He feels that you taught his relative a very important lesson. One that will matter greatly if he ever has to fight to the death. But something must be done about you. Now if the boss gets you to work for him, he can say he co-opted you into the clan and everything can be forgotten about. It's actually quite merciful." "And if I say no? Or fail to recover this item of yours? What happens? Do I get my kneecaps busted up?" The elder derro said something short, but direct. Dontello translated once more. "I'm afraid we only do that when we are annoyed. No, in the case of a refusal we would feel forced to have to deal with you using concrete shoes and a deep body of water. The derro learned a few things from the Italians. But if he had to resort to this, the boss would be as sad as a derro could be. Death would be wasted on a man of your ability to cause destruction. In case we have to kill you, please understand that it's just business." I reached in my pocket for another yellow pill. * * * After being three thousand dollars richer, I followed Dontello's directions to Steven Ray's place of work, a water treatment plant outside of the city. I stopped my car inside a recreational park outside of the facility, put on a hard hat I brought with me, grabbed a clipboard, and walked inside the fenced area without being stopped. No one ever stops a man with a clipboard. I asked around for Mr. Ray and someone pointed him out to me, working at the top of one of the giant flow pumps. It took me a bit of climbing, but I finally reached the portly gentleman, who turned to face me (see Picture of Chubby Blonde Man). "Mister Steven Ray," I asked. "Oh hell, what did I do wrong now," he asked, noticing my clipboard. "Nothing at all," I said, smiling at him and moving forward to shake his hand. "I was allowed on the site because I'm a collector. I was hoping to buy that stone you found recently." "Oh, that," Steven said with a smile. "Did you know I found it laying in my backyard of all things? I guess some portal opened up there. You're out of luck, though. I sold it last night to a different collector. She offered me a hundred thousand dollars for it if I agreed to accept cash and to give it to her at that very moment. It was a lot of money, and I've been thinking of putting in my two weeks notice and retiring early." "Congratulations," I said with more happiness than I felt. He wasn't giving me much to go on. "Maybe I can track her down and buy it from her. What did she look like? Do you know how I can get in touch with her?" Steven scratched his chin for a moment and considered me. Finally he said, "You seem like an honest enough fellow, so I'll tell you what I know. She was a redhead, and a looker, too. I'd say she was in her mid-thirties. I have her phone number, since it showed up on my cellphone," he said, as he scrambled in his pocket for the device. Taking it out, he showed me her number on the display and allowed me to copy it down. "I don't mind telling you this, since I'm hoping you can pass a message onto her if things go well. Tell her that Steve...errr... me... that I'd like to take her out sometime with that money she gave me. Oh, and be careful with who you give that number to. She seemed like a nice girl, and there were some derro that swung by here earlier and took an unhealthy interest in the heart thing. Made me glad to be rid of it." I promised to pass the message, and waved to him a goodbye as I left to return to the parking lot, feeling guilty for lying to him. I decided against jumping in my car and returning home, opting instead to take a long walk in the nearby recreational park and think. Coach always told me that I needed to use my head before jumping into things recklessly. There seemed to be some kind of fair going on underneath the shade of some trees. Curious, I began to move my way over there when my cellphone rang from a number I didn't recognize. "Hello," I said into the receiver. Dontello's voice was on the other line. "Hello Robbie. Everything going alright with Mr. Ray or will we need to coerce him later?" I considered lying, then I considered concrete shoes and Steven Ray's kneecaps. "Please tell your boss that everything's fine. He gave me the number of the woman that purchased the heartstone, and I'll be calling her shortly to arrange a meeting. I plan to negotiate a price with her and let you know how reasonable she is." "That's excellent news. I can see why the boss thought to place his confidence in you. Bobby, please remember to give us that lady's number when next we meet, and do keep in touch with us." The connection was broken as Dontello hung up. I sighed and wondered if my day could get any more stressful, when I noticed that I had reached the outside of the fair. It was a bit morbid, with booths that displayed videos and pictures of creatures from the other world being tortured or kept in captivity. I could hear a woman yelling from a stage about the rights of stirges, and the unjust pesticides being created in laboratories to exterminate them. Above her was a sign that read PETPC - People for the Ethical Treatment of Portal Creatures. Next to me were two goofy-looking people, bouncing a pissed off looking homunculus on a blanket (see Picture of two happy, shiny people bouncing a ...thing on a blanket). They looked like they were having fun. The homunculus... not so much. I reached for my pill bottle. There was only so much stupidity I could take in a day. As I took out the bottle, the yellow homunculus leapt out of the blanket with fangs and teeth bared at me. I panicked, since such a creature is normally poisonous, and dropped my bottle. The creature landed at my feet, snagged the bottle, and took off into the woods before I had a chance to move. "My pills...," I whispered in shock. I wondered what final task some crazy wizard left for the insane creature to make it act like that. The woman dropped her corner of the blanket and ran up to me. "Are you ok," she asked with concern. "Oh, I'm afraid that Bashful has misbehaved again. We've been trying to reform him, but he seems to have a thing for small containers." My mouth stayed hung open, as I was still in shock. Finally I asked slowly, "You call that thing Bashful?" "It's not a thing," the man came up to me and yelled angrily. "Portal creatures have feelings, too, you know. What if Bashful heard you?" I tried to do my counting exercises and closed my eyes for a moment. "When will... Bashful... come back with my pills?" "He won't," the lady answered. "We never can find anything once he hides it in the woods. Heck, we sometimes don't find him for months once he runs away, but we put out ads in the paper and around town, and someone always seems to locate him again. Never with the items he takes, though, that little rascal." Her smile disappeared when she saw my concerned face. "Oh dear. I hope that medicine wasn't anything important." * * * I could feel my temper returning, which meant that I'd have to end this case soon before my emotions took over. I had a tendency to act before thinking and to destroy things when my emotions took over. I decided it was time to call the collector. After three rings a strangely familiar voice said, "Hello, DM's collectibles." "Hi," I started hesitatingly. "I'm looking for the woman who bought the heartstone. I'd like to buy it from her." There was a slight pause, followed by a question I didn't expect. "Is this Robert Davies?" "Ummm...yes," I answered. I heard a grunt of anger on the other side, "Damn it, Robert, you don't have the money or interest to buy something like this. Who are you working for?" "I can't tell you who I'm working for," I admitted. "Do I know you? Who is this?" There was a long silence, broken by her asking, "Can you meet me in the playground next to Anthony Wayne Middle School? In half an hour?" "Yes," I admitted. "I can get there in less time than that if you..." I was interrupted by a click and a flat tone. "That was rude," I hissed and thought about tossing my cellphone across the parking lot. So far I had been feeling as if I was being railroaded, and I didn't much like the thought of not being in control of my own life. Jumping in my car, I drove my little Mitsubishi like a bat out of hell in order to blow some steam. I made the twenty-mile drive through the city in the same amount of minutes, which included five stops at traffic lights. I parked at the school and walked into the playground that I had spent my middle school years at (see Picture of the Metal Slide). I leaned the nape of my neck against the slide, which looked tiny to me now that I was an adult, its cold metal feeling good against my angry, hot skin. I waited another five minutes, impatiently singing the tune to Gilligan's Island for the sixth time before I saw a redheaded woman walking furiously towards me. It took me only a second later for me to recognize her. "Sis, what are you doing here," I asked dumbly. SMACK! My face stung as her hand lashed out to slap me. "What do you think you're doing working for the derro, Robert," she demanded. She went to slap me again, but I caught her wrist. She saw the look in my eyes and said simply with angry undertones, "You haven't been taking your pills." I let her hand go gently. I couldn't stay angry at friends or family. "No, I lost them when I was trying to track you down, Sheila. I'm on a limited schedule, since the derro are planning to knock off the gentleman who sold you the heartstone in the first place. They're also threatening my own safety if I don't locate it. I figured I could save the man's life if I played ball. I didn't know that I was going to involve you, too." Sheila looked at me sadly, "Robert, I'll give you the heartstone. I tried to get it away from them, but once we use the magic stored inside of it, it won't matter. The derro want the stone because it can restore the health of a crippled or diseased person who touches it. I got the blue heartstone for Coach. Once he's restored, we can give them the empty heartstone." "They're not going to be happy about that," I said, officially becoming the master of the obvious. "But you'll still be honoring their contract. It will be better than their chief being restored back to health instead of Coach. We got to take the chance, Robert," she begged me. "We owe Coach." "We do," I agreed and she visibly relaxed. "Let's go to Coach's house and afterwards I'll face them with the empty stone." "We'll face them," she said with a smile. "You, Coach, and I. Just like before we returned home those decades ago." I started smiling from the thought, her mood contagious. "Well, we'd be missing the other three, but..." I stopped as my cellphone rang and I moved to answer it. "Mr. Davies, do you have the heartstone in your possession yet," Dontello asked. "Ummm... no, I'm still working on it," I admitted. "I'm going to need some more time." "I understand. But just in case you have a change of heart, I just want to tell you that we picked up an acquaintance of yours that happened to come by your house before we drove off. We expect another sign of your success shortly, Bobby, or else your friend, Hank Brown, is going to join you in your swim." "Who is that," Sheila asked in concern. Placing my hand over the cellphone I whispered to her, "It's the derro. They have Coach." The look of despair on her face was enough to make me want to weep. This led quickly to other strong emotions. I suddenly had a barbaric desire to smash derro heads. [/QUOTE]

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