The Paladin Prophecy

#50: IN TIMES OF CHAOS, STICK TO ROUTINE. BUILD ORDER ONE STEP AT A TIME.

Will dried his eyes, took a long look in the mirror, and didn’t like what he saw: exhausted, pale, beaten down. He put away his few clothes in the closet. Set the mechanical bird in the top drawer of the dresser and folded the towel over it. The framed photograph of his parents and Dad’s rules went on the bedside table. He hid the cell phone under the mattress and plugged in its charger behind the bed.

Will took a shower. Instant hot water blasted from an adjustable showerhead under solid pressure. Careful not to get his hair wet, he washed off the wear and tear of the road. Somewhat revived, he changed into his spare jeans, a white T-shirt, sweater, and his bomber jacket. Which more or less exhausted his wardrobe.

He heard raised voices from the great room and opened the door. An older boy stood near the front door. He was three inches taller and thirty pounds heavier than Will, all of it solid muscle. He was tan, ruddy cheeked, with short black hair, and he wore trim gray khakis and a tight navy blue polo. He held Brooke’s left wrist in his right hand, twisting it slightly, pulling her closer.

“That’s not what you said. That’s not what we agreed on,” he said, just short of yelling.

“Lower your voice and let go of me—” she said.

“Hey there,” said Will. “What’s the good word?”

The older boy looked at Will, surprised. “Who’s this noob?” he asked Brooke.

“He just got here—”

Will walked over, grinning like a clueless goofball. “My name’s Will West. And I’m from out west, too. Isn’t that ironic? Really pleased to meet you. And you are?”

Will extended his hand, radiating nerd vibes. Some vestige of country club manners hit the front of the guy’s brain. He let go of Brooke and shook Will’s hand.

“Todd Hodak.”

Hodak opened his eyes really wide, simulating interest, and clamped down on Will’s hand as hard as he could. Will pretended it hurt a lot more than it did, bending over, trying to shake it off.

“Dang, that’s some grip, Todd. Look, I’ll never play the piano again.” He held up his hand, hanging limply, and chuckled. Todd stared at Will as if he had leprosy.

“You must be an athlete, right? What sport? I’m guessing most of ’em! I just got here and I already miss my dog. Do you have a dog? Mine’s named Oscar. He’s a long-haired dachshund. You know, like ‘Oscar Mayer,’ ’cause he’s a wiener dog—”

Todd turned to Brooke. “We’ll talk about this later.”

He slammed the door as he left. Brooke, flushed and upset, hurried to the kitchen. Will trailed her to the dining area. She came back out carrying a large plate, which she set down, noisily, on the table.

“Excuse me a moment,” she said.

Brooke hurried into bedroom 1 and closed the door. A moment later, Will heard her crying. Unsure what to do, he went back to the table, where there was a pitcher of lemonade and tall glasses with ice, small earthen tubs of three different dips, a selection of sliced vegetables, and a dish of spiced olives.

And all he could think was, She lives here. There is a God.

The front door flew open. An elfin black-haired kid bolted in, arms full of boxes overflowing with electronic components. He stopped, startled, when he saw Will. His skin was the color of caramel, his eyes big, brown, and shiny. The kid studied him intensely but didn’t change expression. Then he hurried to bedroom 3, transferring his load onto one skinny arm just long enough to unlock the door. He pushed it open with his butt, darted inside, and closed it behind him. Will heard multiple locks being thrown on the other side.

Brooke came out of her room. Eyes red, forcing a smile, determined to proceed as if nothing named Todd Hodak had jammed her frequencies. She sat at the table and grazed from the platter. Will sat across from her and dug in as well.

“We have a good group here, all things considered.” She waved a carrot toward door 3. “You’ll like Ajay. Everybody likes Ajay. He’s indispensable.”

She took a bite of carrot and pointed to door 2. “But Nick’s a ginormous pain in the watusi. Do you like sports or Chuck Norris?”

“I like sports.”

“Then who knows, you and Nick might be able to bond.”

Will couldn’t stop eating. The dips were all fresh and delicious: hummus, an artichoke mix, and something tart and gooey he couldn’t identify.

“What is this?” asked Will, pointing to the third dip. “It’s unbelievable.”

“Baba ghanoush.” The way she said it, with a slight lisp, sounded so adorable Will almost asked her to repeat it. Brooke waved her carrot stub at door 5, where Will had heard piano music earlier.

“Elise is in five. Elise is … well, you’ll see for yourself.” She popped the carrot into her mouth. “You may have something in common with her.”

“What?”

“You’re a big boy. I’ll let you make up your own mind.”

Will tried not to sound too interested. “So are all the pods co-ed?”

“Is that a problem for you?”

“No, no, not at all—” said Will.

“Because one of the halls is segregated by floors, if it is—”

“It’s not—”

“—but you’d have to tell Dr. Robbins—”

“It’s not a problem.”

She leaned back and smiled. “You might feel differently when you meet Elise.”

“I doubt that I’ll feel differently.”

She took a bite of red pepper. “You don’t have a dachshund named Oscar.”

“I don’t even have a dog.”

“So you were just messing with Todd.”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“No. Not even a little bit.”

“Yes,” said Will. “I was messing with Todd.”

Door 3 opened. Ajay stepped out and made sure his door was locked.

“Ajay, this is Will,” said Brooke. “He’s moving into number four.”

“So I see,” said Ajay with a small bow. “Welcome, sir. Misery is compounded by solitude, so it does, in fact and indeed, prefer company.”

He had a deep, dignified voice and a refined Southern accent. He looked about twelve and sounded like he was running for president.

“Oh, fudge,” said Brooke, glancing at the wall clock. “I’ve got to get to a lab. Ajay, could you take care of Will for a while? He needs clothes, groceries, books, and supplies—it’s all really kind of desperate. Back in a bit.”

Brooke hurried out the front door. Ajay helped himself to an olive.

“If that is indeed the case,” said Ajay, “then I am exactly the man you need to see: Ajay Janikowski, entirely at your service.”

Ajay reached behind his back, tossed the olive five feet in the air, and caught it in his mouth.

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