A jingle played on the stereo radio atop the worn marble counter.
“Aaaaaand welcome back to O-Hiyo! with Lucas, coming at you from 91.4 K-ERA! Man, what a week, huh? Strange things in the lake, a conspiracy on ERATech, what next? I’d say bring an umbrella.”
A rather unfitting Hannah-Barbera sound effect played, then cut out halfway through.
“That was supposed to be a laugh track. More to the point! What a fine Saturday afternoon it is, we have some HUGE things planned today! And by that, I mean we DON’T. Yep! Literally no idea what to do. The producers kicked me out of the studio the rest of the month for talking about frogs for seven hours straight with a phone guest, and now I’m broadcasting live from his computer!”
“Hey, you’re draining the battery! You know I don’t have a charger for all this!” a young man complained from the background.
“Hush now, Hugo! We have more time to waste! Up next is a new song from our up and coming solo artist, N.I.K.K.I., titled, “Your Queen”! Get out your translators because I can’t understand K-Pop!”
The song that immediately succeeded the host’s introduction started off with a techno-bubblegum pop instrumental break, followed by a verse sung almost entirely in Mandarin.
The guy behind the counter smirked, chuckling to himself softly. “That radio host, man. Somehow his show’s quirkier than this town.”
An intricate bouquet of flowers was set on the marble top by his only customer today. She had to crane her neck around to see who she was buying from, as the bouquet itself was simply that tall.
“Isn’t it that Lucas kid I’ve been hearing about lately?” Martha inquired. “My son hates him, but I just can’t help admiring his passion for his show.”
The cashier took a hold of the flowers, checking them for blemishes or unwanted thorns. “He’s a real character, I have to admit. Lost his entire studio and now he’s recording from some guy’s bedroom. That can’t be legal, but he’s still at it,” he said as he found the barcode attached on the plastic holding the arrangement together.
The song had reached its chorus. Admittedly, it was pretty catchy. If not a bit generic with the standard pop chord progression and switching to English lyrics. Some lines about roller blades were being sung.
“May I ask who these are for? I can write a little letter for you,” the florist offered.
“Oh, I’m flattered! They’re for my sister, Chloe. She lives in the next neighborhood over from mine, and I promised I’d meet her once I’ve finished unpacking at my new home. But I’ll pass on the letter, I’d rather give these to her personally. Thanks anyway, mister…”
He pointed to his name tag. “Fraise.”
“Fraise! What a lovely name!” Martha complimented. She thought it to be fitting with the whole theme of his occupation. Though she presumed he already knew that.
Fraise blushed a bit as he scanned the bouquet. “It’s nothing special, really. It’s just my last name. I just like using it more than my first. Makes people friendlier towards me, for some reason or other.”
“Well, last name or not, you are a very charming young man,” the woman said. “Names don’t define a person’s identity, after all. They’re simply their names.”
The florist handed over the flowers to their gracious buyer. “You know, someone like you is too nice to be moving into New Era. Where’d you come from?”
“Santa Barbara. We ran into some financial trouble lately, and now with the family separated, I wanted a new life with me and my son,” Martha explained.
“Sounds rough,” Fraise sympathized.
“Oh, it’s just a part of life! I’m bouncing back already—why, only a couple days ago I landed myself a job at the local accounting firm.”
“You mean Nubis Management? Fancy. They hardly ever take new positions.”
“It’s a start. As I told my son. He thinks getting a job is easy for a single mom.”
“In this economy? I basically won the lottery getting myself two.”
“This isn’t your only job?” Martha asked as she took out her credit card.
“I work at that bakery and café across the street from Tuesdays through Thursdays,” Fraise pointed to a building out the window as he completed the transaction, handing the card back shortly after. “I gotta be the luckiest man in the world to get paid doing my two favorite hobbies: gardening, and baking. Cooking’s a close runner-up, but I’ve got a sweet tooth.”
His customer looked over to the aforementioned establishment, flowers in hand. “I’ll have to see what they’re all about then. You take care, Mr. Fraise!”
“Same to you, miss.” The florist turned back to the eccentric radio show.
“Come on, Lucas! I gotta start my shift at McDonald’s soon! I can’t be your co-host all day!”
“Sure you can! We’ll take the show to the men’s bathroom and hope your manager doesn’t notice! Trust me, it’ll be like I’m a background cameo that only pops up just to make the place seem fuller than it is!”
Muffled sounds of desperate pleading faded out to make room for the chiming of a small bell struck by the top of the door. Martha stepped out of the flower shop, eyes locked on the quaint little eatery known as Stardust Bakery and Café, adorned with a whimsical font above the double glass doors that looked almost too wide for the front of the building itself. It stood a proud one story high, much like its neighbors, showed off a peach-colored coat of paint on its walls, and was floored with black-and-white checkered tile. Looking through the spotless windows, save for a lone cashier doubling as a barista, a small group of customers were just beginning to leave to go about the rest of their days, collectively holding several bags of bread and pastries. Two Martha recognized instantly. One she did not.
The familiar two were as strange and as unique as she remembered them on the first day. Maybe even more now with the light shining above rather than behind, to illuminate the more extravagant details of their bodies. And yet, they could not look more different from each other. In a bizarre and almost ironic sense, it seemed they couldn’t be more perfect for each other.
“And so when I went to check on the oven, I found out it wasn’t even on!” The shorter, multicolored, jovial of the two recounted. A small, wide-eyed dog nested in their arms, listening to the story as well. They received a bountiful giggle from the stranger—the stranger to Martha, of course. The dog seemed to enjoy it too. Even the impossibly tall, sharply dressed, horned woman in violet found herself amused as she ducked her head beneath the fragile glass doors, faintly smirking upon her companion’s humorous retelling of an otherwise mundane, humanly boring story. It was then that her blackened eyes darted up, catching the sight of her new neighbor, who was already staring straight at her. She could only smirk wider.
“Martha Brown. We meet again.” Skyber said. Nova and the stranger turned to her, the former much more excited.
“Oh! Howdy, new neighbor!” They waved hello so quickly, it looked like their arm split into three. The dog wagged its tail excitedly in response. “How’ve you been? How’s your new home treating you? You still need any help moving in?”
Martha smiled. “Good, good, and no, thanks. I can manage the rest if I kick my son out of bed hard enough to help. You know how teenagers are. So lazy these days…”
“And how is your son Mason, Ms. Brown?” Skyber asked, with a colder, snake-like tone.
“He’s fine, of course! Still grumpy as usual, but give him time. He’ll adjust.” Martha made her way to her car parked on the sidewalk where everyone was standing, opening the trunk and putting the flowers away. Before she could answer any further, the stranger hesitantly spoke up.
“M-Mason? Like… Mason Brown?” he fidgeted with his hands. Or, well, his green-furred paws. They looked pale, and a strange frost grew on his filed-down claws.
“Hm? Have you met my son, sir?” The mother craned her neck around Skyber’s massive body, as now the Anthro was hiding behind it. He nodded slowly.
“We met… a-at the store I w-work in…”
“He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?” Martha raised an eyebrow.
“…W-w-well…”
“Ah, don’t worry about Leaf, Ms. Brown! He gets really shy around new people!” Nova gave the humanoid fox a ruffle atop his head. Leaf could only fight the urge to giggle. It seemed he was ticklish around his head. Martha’s relief escaped her in a long breath.
“Well, I’m glad my son is making friends so soon in this town. He doesn’t admit it, but it was always hard for him growing up. Even in high school, fitting into the cliques and whatnot felt more of a priority to him than grades. I tell you, the amount of times I had to nag his ears off about that…”
“I believe we get the picture, Ms. Brown,” Skyber raised a hand. “From my brief experience with your child, I can tell he is… confused, to put it best. But if I may pry a bit, what is it that you mean by ‘fitting into cliques?’”
“Oh, I’m sure you must have gone through that phase as a teenager! Everyone I’ve met surely has!” Martha joked, eliciting a knowing nod from Nova, averting eyes from Leaf, and a raised eyebrow from Skyber. She continued.
“So many kids treat school like a popularity contest these days. Always wanting to be the center of attention, building some impossible standard of yourself, picking on others who don’t ‘fit in.’ As a mother, I can understand that when you’re so young, it seems like that’s all that matters in the world, but…”
The mother curled her fingers between her thin coat, wrinkling the fabric. “He’s growing up now, and he has to learn there’s bigger things to worry about than keeping an image… Soon enough, I won’t be there to clean up his messes, or pull him out of trouble like I used to.”
Nova reached over to hold Martha’s shoulder, their pet panting with his mouth wide open. Leaf and Skyber stood where they were, listening silently.
“To be honest, part of the reason why I moved here was to teach him to take care of himself better. I want him to make new connections, maybe find a job. So far, I’ve managed to kick him out of the house enough so he doesn’t become a complete hermit. But… all week, I feel like he’s been hiding something from me.”
The dragoness halted her monologue. “I do apologize, but I think I’ve left my wallet on the counter…” she patted her shiny purple coat. “Nova, Leaf, would either of you check to see if I’ve misplaced it?”
Nova saluted in a form sharper than a U.S. Marine. “You can count on me, Skybie! Come on, Lieutenant Leaf! Let’s go find that wallet!”
The fox stumbled over himself, processing the request as his body reacted on its own. “O-okay!”
The two fur-skinned people, leaving the dog to Skyber’s care, ran off in search of their friend’s wallet inside the bakery. As they opened the door, Skyber turned to Martha. “Now then. You were expressing your concerns about your son’s recent outings?”
Martha nodded her head.
“Does he ever tell you where he runs off to?”
She slowly shook her head.
“Does he tell you about the people he’s met, or how he meets them?” Skyber started to circle the mother, leaving Deg without a leg to lean on. He had to rest elsewhere, crumpling the bag of brioche buns Nova also left in their partner’s care.
“The only people I know he’s met were those two lovely young kids—Saki and Pearl, I believe?” Martha put a finger to her chin. Her eyes brightened, and extended her hand to the Anthro inside the building. “And of course, the fine young man you brought along with you. I’m sure they got along well!”
Skyber continued circling her, her monstrous reptilian tail dragging along her path. “Yet your son refuses to share the seemingly mindless and mundane details regarding his escapades with his so-called ‘friends?’ Tell me—what time did he come home on that first night at New Era?”
Martha’s brows furrowed. She lowered her head in thought, wondering what the strange, large woman was getting at. The large woman did not heed.
“Has he ever texted or called you to say he’s alright? Not a Facebook poke or message by carrier pigeon? Or was that simply not on his To-Do list whilst accompanying these… individuals?”
By now, Martha already knew the answers. But with the glaring, violet irises peering over her, it was hard to gulp it out. She didn’t need to.
“I’ll take your concerned yet terrified silence as a confession. You don’t know where your son heads off to. You don’t know who he’s met besides the one he’s certain won’t get him into trouble if he tells. He leaves the house and arrives back at times unusual and worrying for a single mother such as yourself, and to put the icing on the bitter, rebellious cake, he doesn’t even let you know he’s still alive.”
Skyber grinned, satisfied with her self-fulfilling answer. She straightened her back, strolling back to her lonely dog and her lonelier bag of bread. “Rest assured, I’ve dealt with men like your son before. At the end of the day, they only want—no, they only care about what’s best for themselves. Perhaps in your son’s case, he took the idea of freedom and individuality too seriously, hm? Or, would it be more reasonable to assume that, by some stroke of luck…”
She arranged her hands behind her hips. “He’s found a bad influence?”
Martha slowly looked up, fear in her eyes. “What… what are you saying?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard by now about the recent developments of this small city. The rapid boom in population, the strange occurrences in unexpected places. Maybe this may seem off topic, but has your offspring ever told you about, or showed any… unique abilities?”
The mother pieced together by now that it would probably be best not to disclose any personal information about her son. Yet… her neighbor had already deduced Mason’s situation. Would she be able to pry it out of her anyway? Even then… why wouldn’t she want to know what her own son was up to? Up until today, Skyber had been nothing but helpful. There was a chance she knew something about Mason she didn’t. She reluctantly nodded.
“He’s… he has this… thing. Whenever he focuses on something, something you can touch, he can make it stick to anything it’s already touching. I don’t know how to explain it, it’s like he… locks things together.”
Skyber’s stance shifted. “How long have you known about this?”
“Ever since he was in grade school. His teachers thought it was either a seeing disorder or a learning disability, because his eyes would bug out when he focused on something for too long. He did it at home too, and for a while I was considering placing him in a… different school. But one day, I was cashing in a check at an ATM, when this man came up to me with a knife. He said he wanted my money. My son was in the car, he saw everything. I guess something clicked that day when he saw that robber threatening me… just like that, he was stuck to the ground. He couldn’t pick his foot up. I ran to the car, and never saw that man again. It was around that time we moved to Santa Barbara. Mason’s had that ability ever since.”
Skyber noticed movement behind her. Looking back, she noticed her accomplices returning from the store. She made her next words slightly quicker than before. “Well, I’m sure it’s no surprise to you your son was born an Electi. Congratulations.” She mocked a little curtsy. “Needless to say, Electi are hard to come by, yet the more I see this boom of people moving in, the more I notice many of them share their own sets of unique abilities. You would think in such a small town, Electi would be nearly unheard of. Not here, it seems.”
Skyber gestured her hand out to the land around them. Martha started. “Are you suggesting Electi are bad influences?”
“No, no, don’t get me wrong,” Skyber corrected. “His ‘friends’, Saki and Pearl, are fine young humans. A tad annoying, but neglectfully so. They possess abilities of their own. What I’m suggesting is with all these new faces, there are bound to be some bad apples your son may come across. Of course, your son may easily fend off any imbecile with a knife, all well and good. But, would he fare the same against that same imbecile with a stronger, more harmful ability than supernatural superglue?”
Nova and Leaf were now just behind the dragoness, marching up to her like soldiers to a drill sergeant.
“Ma’am! Wallet has not been found, ma’am!” Nova continued the bit from a few minutes ago, unaware of the conversation being held in their absence.
Skyber checked her pockets once again. She paused, then scoffed to herself. “Of course. Now I remember where I put it.” Reaching into her breast pocket, she took out a piece of finely crafted black leather, stitched in a fancy gold threading.
Leaf giggled. “I-I didn’t think you were so forgetful, Ms. Wyrmond!”
“Please. ‘Skyber’ is enough formality,” she addressed to the Anthro, stuffing her wallet away. Deg jumped back into Nova’s arms.
“By the way,” they asked, “what were you guys talking about when we were gone?”
Martha opened her mouth, but the more prominent of the two won out the stage.
“This fine woman was simply worried for her son’s safety,” Skyber claimed. “Granted, she has every right to. This town is changing faster than anyone’s expected. I take it you all agree?”
Leaf nodded. Nova hummed amusingly. Deg slowly forgot about the crushed brioche buns lying on the ground and fell asleep in Nova’s arms.
“Martha was right—her son is growing up, and that means he must learn how to fend for himself. But, seeing how troublesome he’s becoming for his poor old mother this week, and in a town such as this, I fear we may have to give him an extra… safety net.”
“Wha-what do you mean?” Leaf asked, not quite ready to hear an answer.
“I’m glad you asked.” Skyber looked to Martha one more time. “I’m sure you care an awful lot about your precious son, and I’m sure he doesn’t care an awful lot about staying out of trouble. With what’s on the news nowadays, it would be foolish to not procure some extra security within our lovely little community…”
The dragoness bore her teeth—her jagged, razor-edged, snakish fangs of teeth.
“…would it not?”
Nova raised an eyebrow. Nobody noticed.
“I think I understand now,” Martha finally announced, with an idea that wasn’t her own. “You’re right. Absolutely right. I love my son so, so much… if anything were to happen, I…”
Leaf slowly walked up to the mother, ice-crusted paws and all, and did his best to pat her shoulder without getting the cold on her skin. She wiped the side of her eye and sniffed.
“Thank you, dear. You’re too kind.” Martha straightened herself. “I know what to do. New Era needs a neighborhood watch. We have to look out for each other if we want to be protected, and if it means my son is safe in this town, that’s all I care about.”
Skyber nodded. Nova turned their head at her.
“We just need people. People we can trust. This is my new home now, and I’m not moving just because of some ruffians on TV.” She walked back to her car, and the others followed. “I’m on my way to my sister’s right now. She lives on the other side of town. I’ll let her know about our plan.”
“I-in that case, I can always l-let my family know…” Leaf spoke up. “My uncle Korbin and my sister Merla live nearby. They’d definitely be willing to help i-if they can…”
“I’ll be contacting my associates as well, if you’re certain about going through with this,” Skyber mentioned. “Nova, you have many ‘friends’ you think would assist us, do you not?”
“…Yeah! You bet.” It phased little to everyone at the moment that they didn’t follow up with such a jovial response with some cartoony reality-bending gag.
“Then it’s settled.” Skyber turned to the others. “We are forming a neighborhood watch. And about time, too. I was starting to get bored cooped up in that den I call a bedroom. Even a dragon must stretch their wings every now and again.” She made a show of this by spanning her draconian wings that looked almost as wide as the street they were on. “Run along now, Ms. Brown. We have some calls to make.”
“Right. Thank you for the chat. It was… lovely seeing you both again. And you for the first time, Leaf.”
Leaf waved goodbye, wordlessly scooting himself closer to Nova, whispering something in their ear. They nodded.
As Martha opened her car door to get to the driver’s seat, she heard Nova saying something.
“Skybie, if I may ask, what was that all about? What’d you make her do?”
The woman responded as Martha plugged in her phone to the car, typed in an address on her GPS, and closed the door.
“The right thing, Nova.”