Twilight on Jasper Ch. 2

“My comic?? But I kept my promise to you people! How the hell else did you want me to keep you around??” I throw my hands up frustratingly at him.

“Now wait just a minute, you didn’t let me finish.”

“What the fuck do you people WANT from me?!?!” I cut him off angrily. “What more can I DO for you!?”

“Listen to me, it’s not you that’s the problem, it’s everybody else!” He shouts over me, growing equally as frustrated. “We were born from your imagination, right? We lived in your dream realm, right? So what happens when hundreds of thousands of people dream completely different dreams about the people from somebody else’s dream realm?”

He stops talking for a moment, and there’s a long pause. “I…I dunno, what?”

“Your dream realm begins to break down! There isn’t really one particular dream realm we can all go to, so we all follow Bryon’s lead and come here. That’s what. It’s either we come here, or we break apart with the dream realm. You tell ME if we did the right thing or not.” He grits his teeth and crosses his arms.

“So you are all here?” I glance at the metal door.

“Yup. Now knock on it thrice in the shape of a triangle.”

“What? Why would I…is that like, the secret password or something?”

He moves me closer to the door and sighs. “Just do it, smartass.”

Rolling my eyes and feeling like a complete dick, I do exactly what he says. The door suddenly shimmers and it goes from looking like a huge, imposing metal door locked up tight with thick chains, to a small, wooden door with light peeking out from inside. I grab the doorknob and open it rather easily.

“SURPRISE!!!” The sudden choir of people shouting at me makes me leap back. The flood of light makes my eyes squint. I take another glance in and I see everyone…and I do mean everyone I have ever created crammed in a room the size of a subway car. There’s an old, ratty couch in the corner, a messed up black and white T.V. sitting on a half-broken, mismatched set of dressers with about a dozen mismatched and messed up plastic and fold-out chairs and a lopsided card table strategically placed on a filthy, ripped area rug which is the only thing covering the cold cement floor. As for the crumbling brick walls, they have a candleholder nailed to one side with two tapers burning and the rest are covered with my odd sketches and character studies. All in all, it was horrifying and the sweetest, more heart-felt place I’d ever seen.

“Welcome to your new house, Jasper!” “Yeah, we made this place for you!” “I hope you like it!” “We all pitched in to get this place ready.” “What do you think?” “Do you like it?”

“I…I…” Walking in, I study the gleaming faces of my characters. Their eyes begged for my approval for all their hard work. This wasn’t their fault. I smile wide and survey the place. I then look back at them and chuckle. “I love it, guys. Thank you.” And I mean it. I don’t think there was ever a statement that I said more from the heart than this.

“Hey, Jasper.” Mai comes up from behind me and pats me on the back. “We’re your family, it’s not a problem.”

“Group hug!” Talis Vanguard shouts out in a goofy tone.

I glance over with a finger pointed toward him. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“An accomplice. That makes perfect sense.” Detective Michael Bennett sits in a highway full of gridlocked traffic and goes over his notes as his shorter and stockier partner flips through a recent issue of “In Your Dreams” while gobbling down a blueberry bear’s claw like the Apocalypse is mere moments away. “Who does the kid know? The mother tells us he only had like two friends, and now we got another name out of the clear blue yonder. What do you think, Nate?”

Bryon sits quietly in the back seat and listens to their conversation.

“Mff.” Detective Nathan Morris sloshes down a mouthful of coffee. “The mother’s just as much a fruitcake as her kid. I wouldn’t trust her to give me the right time of day.”

“Yeah, and with what happened there just now?” Bennett brings his finger up thoughtfully and turns towards his partner, his other hand dropping the notepad onto the dashboard of his unmarked car. “She willingly lets us look around the apartment, but the minute one of us goes to glance into a few of the kid’s scrapbooks, she freaks out and tells us to get a warrant? What the hell is goin’ through that broad’s head?

“Oh shit. Hahahahaha!” Morris laughs rather loudly and turns a page.

“Jeffery Norton, his publisher, the fat redheaded guy that sweats all the time? He tells us that this Montgomery kid would almost always refer to himself as ‘us’ and ‘we’, but talk normally every once in a while to throw him off. And then he’d sit there and talk and laugh to himself like there was really somebody there. What a little creep.” Bennett picks up his notepad again and studies it intently. “He named two friends of his besides this elusive Bryon guy. One guy, Rick knows him from the printing place, and he says the same thing. Donald, who does the computer formatting…or whatever…says that Montgomery’s mentioned an Editor named Bryon, but nobody’s ever seen the guy!”

“Heh heh. Yeah. Weird.”

“Are you even listening to me, Nate??” Bennett shouts, dropping the pad on his lap.

Morris looks up for the first time since he’s picked up the comic. “Uh…yeah. I heard every word you said.”

Bennett sighs and puts his hands back on the wheel. “I just can’t wait to get this search warrant so we can see what the toothless broad is hiding.”

Morris lifts his “I-heart-NY” coffee cup and drinks, spilling a little coffee on his already crumb-covered shirt and tie. “Fuck…providing we get the courthouse this year.”

“I’m tempted to get out and walk.” And with that, traffic finally begins to move. “Halle-fuckin’-lujah, we’re saved.” __

Knock, knock, knock. “Mrs. Montgomery?” Both Detectives and the few extra bodies the Captain so generously afforded them crowded around the door. “It’s the police, we have a warrant to search the premises, now open the door!” Morris bangs on the door a few more times.

“Alright, alright, keep your jock straps on!” She finally opens the door with a sour, defeated scowl on her aged face.

The uniforms push past her and Bennett shoves the warrant into her hand. The two Detectives go straight for Jason’s room, and his mother follows close behind them, as if trying to wordlessly threaten them with her looming presence. They go through his empty dresser drawers, they go through his photo albums and most importantly, they flip through the few sketchpads that he left behind. They’re mostly facial portraits.

“Who are these people, Mrs. Montgomery? Friends of his?” Bennett holds up one of the sketchbooks.

“I don’t know…characters of his, I guess.” She shrugs and looks away.

“What about this one?” Morris holds up a portrait of Bryon with his name above it. A victorious grin creeps across his features.

“That? That’s Bryon…Jason’s imaginary friend or something. Ever since he came back home two years ago, he always insisted I set a place for him at the table. I don’t know what got into him. He hasn’t talked about Bryon since he was eight.”

The Detectives glare at each other, then back at the mother. Bennett raises a brow. “You mean he’s had this imaginary friend for years?” She nods. “You ever meet a kid that looked like this?”

“No. Never.”

“What about any childhood friends with the name Bryon?”

“No, officer, I would have remembered. Jason’s had this imaginary friend since he was a toddler. As he got older, Bryon got more defined, complete with a personality, likes and dislikes. There were times he’d just talk to Bryon, and he’d leave gaps in the conversation as though someone were actually talking back. It was the strangest thing.”

“Anything else we should know about this Bryon character?”

“Well, Bryon loves jelly but hates peanut butter…”

Bennett groans and rolls his eyes. “Anything USEFUL, ma’am?”

“Well, sometimes Jason would find out things. The kind of things he couldn’t have found out about, but yet knew. Like if he was fast asleep in the house and I left him with a sitter to go on a date. He’d sometimes ask about things that happened on the date, or things that happened at work. Stuff that he just couldn’t have known about.”

“So either the kid’s psychic or you talk in your sleep.” Morris chuckles and opens another book. “Hey, Mikey. Check this out.” He holds up a full-body drawing of Osiris Hehp-Tehal with his height, weight, hair and eye color scribbled on the side of it.

“Hey, I know him.” The mother squints her eyes at the drawing. “That guy was in my house about two years ago. Came in the middle of the night too, in a raging blizzard and kidnapped my boy. I thought he had a weapon, so I just waited until they left and called the police. Check your records, I’m sure you’ll find my case.”

“Jackpot. Bag it, guys. Bag all of this.” Bennett turns suddenly to his partner with a giant grin on his dark, bearded face. “Get this stuff to the station and see if they got anything worthwhile on that case. And Mrs. Montgomery, thanks for the cooperation. If you hear or see anything else, give us a call.” And with that, Morris rushes down to the station and Bennett rushes outside and whips out his cell phone.

“Yeah, Cap’n? I want you to put an A.P.B. out for a Middle-Eastern male, early to mid-thirties. He’s approximately 5’9”, 175 lbs. With long black hair and a goatee. His name is possibly Osiris Hehp-Tehal. Yeah, H-E-H-P, dash, Tehal, right. Give me anything you can find on this guy. He may be armed and dangerous.”

Bryon stands behind Bennett and touches a finger to his lips. “This isn’t good.” He backs away slowly before finally turning and running off.

“SHE WHAT??” I almost fall on the floor from what I’m hearing.

“I know. I had no idea she had seen Osiris either.” Bryon sulks, slumping in his chair.

“Where is he anyway? They have an A.P.B. out on him…that means they want to arrest him, right? So what possesses him to be seen out in public?” I frown, crossing my arms, glaring around the room.

“He’s been like, in and out ever since we got here.” Alejandro sighs, rubbing his face nervously.

His lovely counterpart, Artemis speaks up. “He’s been to every library and internet café in the city. I have no idea what that techie freak is up to.”

Seth Mendle chimes in. “The good news is that he doesn’t exist here. If they catch him, they won’t find anything on him.”

“I wouldn’t count on that, man.” Davis Frisco, an enemy turned friend points out thoughtfully while leaning against the wall. “Jasper, you did put him in the comic on several occasions, and since your mother said she saw him, they’re going to assume you based the character off of a real person.”

“But he doesn’t have any documentation stating that he was born here.” Seth argues.

Another character, the petite, graceful black-winged angel, Russell Gelling speaks up at this point. “Agreed, honey. But might I remind you that in the comic book, Osiris is a computer hacker by vocation. By an ordinary policeman’s deduction, he could have easily wiped out his own records.”

“Wonderful. This is just friggin’ wonderful.” I throw my hands about in frustration. “You guys have no home realm to go to, The long arm of the law is after Osiris because the police think he’s an armed and dangerous internet terrorist kidnapper, I’m trapped here because I’m wanted for murder because SOMEBODY…” I glare angrily at Mai. “Couldn’t keep their habits in their pants…”

“HAY!” Mai stands up, insulted. “A pregnant lady was being RAPED!! What the hell did you WANT me to do, huh, smartass??”

“Not beat them to DEATH, that’s for sure!” I stand up as well.

“Alright, alright, enough. Stop this, please.” Quentin stands up, getting in between us. He’s not as lovely and graceful as he usually is. His normally long, flowing golden hair is knotted and dull, his usual flawless face is dirty and lined from stress and the black clothing that clings to his perfect, lean frame from sweat was filthy and tattered. Despite this, he’s still a gorgeous man, but none of us have exactly been up to par lately.

“You think I wanted that man to die?? I don’t normally kill, Jasper, you know that!” Mai’s voice cracks as tears threaten his dark eyes.

“So shit happened and we all stepped in it. Can we move on now??” Davis growls.

For a long time afterwards, none of us speak. We just sit there and assess the screwed up situation we’re in and try to come up with a plan. We eventually resolve to send Bryon back out to spy some more on the detectives. Since they were split up at this point, we needed two spies, and maybe a third to hang around the D.A.’s office to find out what plan of action is being taken. I decide to give my attorney a call…from a payphone. __

“Yeah, Steele.” His tone is cold and impatient.

“Hello, I’m calling to find out the progress on that People v. Montgomery case.” I keep my tone as impersonal and calm as possible, but I was half-hoping he would recognize my voice. I didn’t really think he could help me, but I did need a lawyer after all.

“Who is this?” I don’t answer. “Jason? Jason, is that you?”

“Look, before you say anything, just listen to me. I wasn’t kidnapped two years ago. My mom was lying, that guy Osiris is only one of my characters, she just doesn’t want to admit I ran away willingly. The cops aren’t going to find anything on him because he doesn’t really exist.”

“Where can we meet? Don’t worry, nobody has to know I saw you.”

“How do I know I can trust you, Mr. Steele?” I sigh heavily, running my fingers through my hair again. “I mean…I don’t really know you.”

“I’m the only shot you have at proving your innocence, Jason. You can keep running, but they’ll catch up to you eventually. I’ll make sure they don’t get their hands on you until the trial, okay?” After that, there’s a long pause. There’s something in his voice that’s different from in the police station. Something more…sympathetic.

I sigh, not really seeing another alternative. “You got a pad and pencil?” __

5:30 pm. There he is, right on schedule. How did I guess he was the punctual type? He is wearing a pale green suit, but the tie and jacket were missing and his white shirt is rolled up at the sleeves and halfway unbuttoned. I couldn’t blame him, it was a thousand degrees out. All I was wearing was a thin Captain Marvel tee shirt and ripped jeans and I was melting. He spots me and walks towards me and I actually see him smile. He has a nice smile, and I think to myself that he should do it more often.

“Jason, my God. I’m glad you haven’t left the country. Where have you been staying?”

“With a few friends.” I grab him by the arm and lead him inside the crowded diner. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go eat.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had a decent meal? Don’t your friends feed you? Look at you, you’re filthy.” Shit-picking prick. I suddenly wanted to smack him in the face for sounding too much like my friggin’ mother.

“With all due respect, Mr. Steele, shut up and order. I’m starving.” I flip through the menu hastily and I see his brows knit sadly at me again.

“You’re angry with me for sending you to Belleview.” He cradles his chin with a fist.

“No, I’m angry with you for busting my balls. Not all of us are as perfect in appearance as you, Mr. Steele.” My tone positively drips with contempt and sarcasm. He merely closes his eyes and sighs at me, saying nothing. A long pause goes by where we just sit there and pretend to look at the menus. I already know what I want, and since he’s paying, it’s gonna be costly.

Suddenly, he speaks up in a rather passive voice. “Do you know anyone who would want to frame you for murder?”

“I can’t tell you. You’ll think I’m nuts.” He glances up at me with both eyebrows raised. I just laugh and put the menu down. “What am I saying? You already think I’m nuts.” He responds by snickering and closing his eyes.

“You’re 20 years old and you have an imaginary friend, Jason. What do you want me to think? You don’t seem nuts right now, I must admit.”

“Just because I have an imaginary friend doesn’t make me nuts. It means I haven’t forgotten about him from when I was a kid.”

“So you admit he isn’t real.”

“I never said that. He is imaginary, but to me, he’s as real as you are.” I take a sip of water that some Mexican guy brings over to us. “I don’t expect you to understand any of this. In fact, if I wasn’t going through it, I’d probably call me nuts too. I don’t even think you can fairly defend me because I can’t even explain it to you.”

“Because I wouldn’t believe you? Well, lets hear it then.”

I chuckle more to myself than at him. “You aren’t going to believe it, but alright…just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I sigh and fiddle with the sweat dripping down the glass. “This whole thing started about two years ago on a freezing cold night in December. I was sitting at the computer making up a brand new character named Davis Frisco…”

And so, the truth came out. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God. He sat there and listened wordlessly in between ordering and the occasional bite of food. He sat there as I spilt my guts to him against my better judgment and he devoted 100% of his attention to me the entire time. Even about three hours later, after I closed with the words, “…and here we are.” He still glared forward as though I never stopped talking. I shovel the last forkful of my food into my mouth and look at him looking at me.

He finally glances down at his plate and exhales deeply. “Whoo. That’s…quite a story.” He rubs the back of his neck, his jaw open and his eyes narrow in contemplation.

I smile without showing teeth, and with my mouth still full, I say, “Told ya’ you wouldn’t believe me.” He knows better than to respond. I swallow my food and follow up with, “In my defense here, all I can say is, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.”

Alright, alright, but even if I did believe this story…and this is a BIG IF…there would be no way in hell we could use it for a defense. We’d be laughed right out of the courtroom. Do you have any idea how completely ludicrous this sounds?”

“I know exactly how ludicrous it sounds, but it’s the truth.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin and smile at him again. He’s sweating and trying not to let me see how confused and panicked he is. It was kind of cute, actually.

“Would you consider taking an insanity plea?” He rubs the back of his neck again.

“Oh God, Irving. I can’t spend one more day in that damn funny farm. You have no idea what its like.” Cover my mouth with both hands and look at him again. He’s glaring at me with this pitiful look, the kind of look people get when they watch Christian Children’s Fund commercials.

“Well, I can’t promise you anything, we’re just going to have to pray for a lenient judge. All I can say is, I’ll do what I can.” I smile and give him a reassuring nod. “Look, Jason…if you’d like, I can put you up for tonight. You can use my shower and I’ll lend you a decent change of clothes.” And with that, his gaze falls to my red and gold ripped tee shirt.

A series of dirty thoughts run through my head just then of him molesting me in my sleep and me liking it. I sit there and take a good look at him. He wasn’t meticulously perfect anymore, and it suited him. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and his short brown hair is slick from sweat and hangs just slightly past his eyebrows, giving him this early Tom Cruise look. He even has a slight five o’clock shadow. I smile wide and stare deeply into his eyes, which are now filled with an almost paternal-like concern. “Okay,” I blurt out almost unconsciously. “But you have to give me a while first. I gotta go tell my friends I won’t be there tonight.”

His eyes light up like magic. “Wonderful! Here, let me write down my address.” He yanks out a felt-tipped pen and begins scribbling on a napkin. “Oh, and let me give you my cell number too, in case you get lost or you want me to pick you up someplace…”