Unfamiliar Territory

I awakened to the smell of something almost unfamiliar, but delicious. When I opened my eyes, I saw a display of eggs, bacon, and even an entire pancake all laid out on a tray on my lap. The rope bindings were gone and I was prepared to dig straight in when a soft chuckle caught my attention.

There was a man, somewhat heavy set and dressed in a pair of jeans and a red flannel shirt. He was bald, but had a full, scruffy beard of black and silver hair. For a second, I thought a lumberjack had broken into my room.

“I thought that might wake you up,” he said, a twinkle in his dark eyes as he brought a large, hairy hand close to my face. “Folks call me Dr. Quincy, but you can just call me Quinn for short.”

That’s a doctor? I thought on this deeply as I grabbed his hand and examined his cheerful, yet somewhat wrinkled face.

“And to whom may I call the skinny stranger I found sleeping in my bed?” he asked, still gripping my hand.

“Oh, uh, Fo—er, Alex, sir. You can call me Alex,” I said as we continued to shake hands. I looked around the illuminated bedroom to the large quilted bed I was still lying on top of. “I’m in your bed?”

“Technically speaking, I suppose,” he said, releasing my hand so he could take a step back and examine the room. He looked as out of sorts as I felt. “Haven’t been here in awhile, though. I have a little set up outside—used to be where I would watch the stars with the little ones. Now I guess I’ve been sleeping there for...a while.”

As he continued to gaze at the many paintings and symbols in the room in silence, I sat there not knowing what to do. The smell of the breakfast was making my stomach do summersaults in anticipation, but I suddenly felt very awkward sitting there in that doctor’s bed. However, my throat was dry and there was a glass of milk calling my name.

“Oh, no, boy—eat up, eat up!” Dr. Quincy said, catching my polite sips of the milk. “You look like you could keel over at any moment and, as a guest in my home; I would be insulted if you did not eat every last bite!”

I nodded gratefully, picking up a fork. It was a struggle to keep from just burying my hands into the food and piling it into my mouth. It didn’t help that the fork felt very awkward to hold. My hand wouldn’t stop shaking and I couldn’t get a comfortable grip on it. I couldn’t remember the last time I had used a utensil to eat.

“Look, Alex, you mind?” Dr. Quincy said after a while. He kneeled down beside the bed and took the fork from my hands. With practiced precision, he stuck the fork into a piece of scrambled egg.

I glanced at him as he held it up to my mouth. “It’ll save you the struggle and save me from having to watch you struggle.”

I nodded, my stomach winning out over my embarrassment, and thanked him before he proceeded to feed me. He was quick—obviously someone with a lot of practice—matching my ravenous appetite until the entire spread was gone like it had never been there.

“You know, you remind me of my children,” he said with a laugh, picking up the tray from my lap and placing in onto a solid oak table nearby. “Like a pack of wolves they are sometimes. I would feel unappreciated if they weren’t so darn cute.”

“Thank you, sir—”

“Quinn.”

“Thank you, Quinn, for the food and, well, for letting me stay here.”

“My pleasure, Alex,” Dr. Quincy said as he leaned against the table, watching me with his dark eyes. “I owe you folks a lot for sheltering me and the children and keeping us safe from my wife. I kept telling that Mallard fellow he should ask for favors more often. I’m just glad to see that he’s finally making use of me.”

I was reminded of something Mutt said about someone who was running from a witch.

“So, you’re Kat’s...?”

“Master?” he finished when I couldn’t bring myself to. He chuckled again when I nodded. “Yes, I suppose that’s what...familiars are supposed to call the ones that look after them. My wife had a familiar, probably still does. He was a nasty brute, never a big fan of me. If he’s still around I bet you he’s enjoying the chase more than her.”

I smiled when he laughed again, not sure what else to do. I was curious, but I didn’t know if it was a sensitive subject for him. On the run from a witch that was once your wife? I could only imagine what sort of horrible things happened that led to that.

“Elizabeth insists on calling me Master,” Dr. Quincy went on, folding his arms. “Just like she insists that I call her Kat. I never liked that stuff, though. Even if ol’ Bennie was a bit of a stickler, whenever my wife called him ‘Tusk’ it never sat right with me—even more so when he called her ‘Master’. Though, maybe I was just jealous ’cause she never let me call her that.”

When Dr. Quincy laughed that time, I joined him. I was already starting to like him a lot. Like Mary, he had that effect of making everything seem normal.

“Ah, good, a smile,” he said, still grinning as he looked down at me. “For a second there I thought I had bored you to death.”

“Just the opposite,” I said and, as I did, an idea came to mind. “Actually, I’m pretty new to all this...familiar stuff, and I don’t know if they have been letting you in on what’s been happening, but...”

“But?”

“But...”

I couldn’t say it. The words formed in my mind, but I could not speak them. It was like something held my throat closed when I tried to talk about what happened with the lost children or my situation. A familiar feeling.

“I’m new to all of this,” I repeated, silently cursing Mr. Mallard. “I don’t even know what a ‘familiar’ is exactly or what they are supposed to do.”

It was something. I would have preferred to tell him about my forced participation in this familiar nonsense, but learning more about it was the next best thing.

“Oh, yikes, you must be really new,” Dr. Quincy said, looking suddenly uncomfortable. He even got up from the desk and began to pace the room before speaking again. “Well, Alex, thing is, I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask. I’m not a familiar. I’m not even a witch.”

“Yes, okay, but if you know anything about familiars it’ll be leagues ahead of what I know,” I insisted, growing more interested the more he seemed to be stalling.

“Really?” Dr. Quincy said, turning to face me, his arms folded again. “They haven’t told you anything about being a familiar? You are...supposed to be one, right?”

I felt him examining my body. He apparently had the same thought I did. When I considered voicing those thoughts, I felt the invisible grip on my throat again.

“From what they told me...yes, I am,” I said, speaking slowly to avoid the risk of being cut off again. “But since joining their...society, things have been...going kind of non-stop. We haven’t really had the chance to sit down and talk about it...much.”

“Until now?” he observed. I nodded. “And I guess you didn’t have the chance to talk about this with Elizabeth before things...”

I felt a knot in my throat as he trailed off. Different than the invisible hand. I hadn’t thought about what happened last night until then.

Elizabeth.

“So, you heard that?” I asked; face burning shamefully as I stared down at the sheets.

“I am normally good at minding my own business,” Dr. Quincy said, humor in his voice, “but you both made that a little difficult for me.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, “and sorry if we woke your kids.”

“Aw, don’t worry about them; once they are out they stay out. I don’t think a hurricane could wake my little ones if it tried. Actually, speaking of—here.”

I looked up and saw that he was holding out a small rabbit made of dark fabric. It was dwarfed even more by his large hand.

I reached out and touched it. It was soft. “That’s...”

“I found it in your hand this morning,” Dr. Quincy said. “My Maple must have brought it to you sometime last night.”

“I think she might have heard me while I was...distraught,” I said, fingers still on the little rabbit as I stared at it, my face still burning from the memory. “It was a little girl with red bows.”

“That’s Maple,” Dr. Quincy said with another chuckle. “What did she do?”

“She put it in my hand,” I said, taking my fingers away from the rabbit. “I pretended to be asleep because I didn’t want to scare her again and she, uh, kissed me. On the forehead.”

For some reason, I felt too ashamed to look up from the little rabbit.

“She has always been the most like her mother, my little Maple. You see, my wife made this for her years ago; she made one for all of our children. Whenever they would have bad nightmares, she would come into their room, place their little animal in their hand, and kiss them on the forehead. No matter how bad their dreams seemed to be, it would always work.”

Dr. Quincy’s hand trembled. I looked up and was taken aback to see big tears dripping down from his dark eyes as he stared at the little rabbit. They trailed down his cheeks and disappeared somewhere into his beard. My throat tightened.

“Duh-Dr. Quinn?” I asked, coughing against the knot.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. He closed a hand around the rabbit and wiped his eyes. “It’s only been a few years, but it feels like a lifetime ago. I thought it would be easier to talk about.”

“Please, don’t apologize,” I insisted, waving it away. “It’s actually nice to hear about it. You’re the first person I’ve met in a long time that’s been this open about themselves.”

“Well, for good reason,” he said, and before I could question him on that he held out the rabbit again. “My original reason for showing you this, Alex, is because I wanted you to have it.”

“What? No, I couldn’t. Dr. Quincy—”

“It’s Quinn, and it’s not a request,” he said, opening one of my hands and placing the rabbit in it before I could object. “My Maple wanted you to have it, and its better—It’s better this way.”

Dr. Quincy looked like he would cry again so I went back to looking at the rabbit. The tiny doll had stumps for arms and legs and two big red buttons for eyes. It seemed so delicate, crafted with the most careful hand. The person who made it had put a lot of their heart into it, especially if there were five more like it.

“I’ll take good care of it,” I said, looking back up to Dr. Quincy, “and if things ever change...with you and your wife, I promise I will do everything I can to bring it back to Maple.”

The strong mixture of happiness and sorrow I saw come across Dr. Quincy’s face almost made me cry. In a lot of ways, he reminded me of Mutt as well.

“You have a good soul, Alex,” he said, sniffing and walking back around to my side of the bed. “I can see why Elizabeth has taken such a liking to you, despite her best efforts.”

At first, I wondered what in the world he saw that I didn’t. But then I remembered when Kat found me in the woods, thinking I was dead. She sounded upset that she didn’t tell me she was sorry. But sorry for what? Dragging me into this? She never seemed sorry for it any other time. Maybe Dr. Quincy was just trying to make me feel better after what happened last night.

Thinking about it again brought a warm blush back to my face.

“Hey, you feeling alright there, Alex?” Dr. Quincy asked, placing a hand against my forehead. “You feel a little warm.”

“Think it would be okay if I use your bathroom?”

“Of course, there’s one right in this room, actually,” he answered, removing the hand and pointing to a door beside me that I hadn’t noticed before. “Are you going to be alright walking there?”

“I think so...”

Dr. Quincy stood back as I pulled the quilt off. I had forgotten about the intricate designs and tried to catch a few as I scooted over to the edge of the bed. I caught a few figures, some animals, and forests as I swung my legs over the bed.

“Nice and slow, Alex, nice and slow,” Dr. Quincy said, keeping nearby with hands ready to catch me.

I ended up being thankful that he did, as I was not standing for more than a few seconds before the room began to sway and, before I knew it, I was heading for the floor.

“Whoa there, tiger,” he said, catching me with ease. “Still too weak?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I can walk I just...lost my balance...”

I lost it just trying to stand up. I stared down at the skinny sticks that were my legs. It felt like I was going to be sick again.

My body was going to be like this for a very long time—maybe even forever. How could they do this to me? Every movement would be a struggle. Every moment. I couldn’t live my life like this. I couldn’t—

“Wait right here. I think I have something else for you,” Mr. Quincy said, helping me sit back down on the bed before leaving the room in a hurry.

I stared out at the open doorway before gazing back down at my legs.

Did he have a wheelchair lying around? Something from the asylum, maybe. If any were actually still usable. I wanted to walk, but it was still miles better than being carried around everywhere like some doll. Maybe Mr. Copper could use one of his magical doorways to break into a hospital and get a decent wheelchair, though that didn’t seem like his style.

I would have laughed if I wasn’t in such a sour mood. I was already making jokes about the miracles these people could do. Mr. Mallard really didn’t have a lot of time to explain everything to me before the throwing up blood thing happened, not that I gave him much chance.

They weren’t going to let me go willingly and, even if I did escape, they had so many methods to get me back. I really doubted even the police would offer much protection against them, if I ever had the chance to let things get that far.

I thought again about my family. They probably had given up hope by now. I was just another lost child never to be seen again.

I thought I might cry again when I felt eyes on me. I looked over to the open doorway and caught a glimpse of someone small with red bows race back out the room.

Maple. How long had she been there? Did she have some sort of sixth sense about when I was crying? I opened my hand and looked back down at the little rabbit. Its button eyes were as red as Maple’s bows. I thought about giving it back to her again, but Dr. Quincy’s words rang in my head.

It’s better this way.

What did his kids know about their mom or their situation? Did they know that the person who once cared for them was now out to kill them? I shuddered at the very thought. What could have happened? Had she gone mad, like Fawn? Is that what happens to those with Knowledge? It made sense. Just witnessing all that I’ve had probably made me a little crazy. I could only imagine what that sort of stuff does to those who used it.

My attention was brought back to the door when Dr. Quincy announced his return. He came into the room carrying a polished, dark brown, walking stick. I tucked the little rabbit into my shirt pocket.

“Sorry for the wait, this old thing hasn’t seen much use in a very long time and was tucked away pretty good,” he said, walking over to me and holding it out.

I took it from him with careful hands, but it did not seem old, not in the slightest. It looked sturdy, much like the furniture in this room and, if Dr. Quincy had not said anything, I would have assumed it was brand new.

As I examined it, I saw someone’s signature near the bottom. Drago Quincy. “This is...?”

“It was my father’s,” Dr. Quincy said. “It was the last birthday present my mother gave him, just before she passed. He needed one badly, but he refused to use it. At least, not for walking. He would polish that thing—obsessively, really—every day until the day he died. I swear he showed more attention to that cane in that one year than he did for me or my mother in my entire life. It’s funny, really.”

Dr. Quincy couldn’t look any further from laughing and I had to look away from him again. “Quinn, I don’t know if I can take this,” I mumbled, clenching the cane in my hands.

His father’s cane. His wife’s rabbit. Why did it feel like he was dumping all his burdens on to me?

“No, please, take it. I’m really sorry, Alex. I said too much again.” He scratched the back of his bald head. “That’s what being on the run for years with no one to talk to does to you, I guess.”

I looked back up into his dark eyes when he kneeled down and placed a hand on my shoulder. “My mother just wanted to help him, just like she wanted to help everyone she met,” he said, eyes locked with mine. “It’s why I wanted to be a doctor, because of her. My father never understood or appreciated her desire to help, not even after she was gone. Alex, it would be an honor, and it would do my mother’s spirit good, if you used this to help yourself.”

I couldn’t explain very well how I felt in that moment. In the span of not even an hour with this person I already knew him better than everyone else I’d come to know in the past few months. And what did he know about me? He said I had a good soul, but did he really trust me enough to leave me with his father’s cane and his kid’s rabbit? Or was he just trying to get rid of the things that are too painful to even look at?

“Okay, I’ll take it. Thank you,” I said, looking away from his eyes and back down at the cane.

I needed this, and I owed him for looking after me, no matter his motives.

“You up for giving it a try?” Dr. Quincy asked, standing back up to give me space.

I gripped the handle of the cane in both hands. I stood up, slowly, and even though I had to dig the cane very firmly into the carpeted floor, I managed to remain standing.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m standing, right?”

“Yeah, you’re doing great. It’s just a few steps to the bathroom, think you can make it?”

I moved the cane as I moved my feet. Mr. Quincy kept close to me as I walked, ready to catch me if I suddenly fell. I never did. I came close, I felt like it was taking all the energy I had out of me, but I never fell.

“There now, I think you’ve got the hang of it already,” Mr. Quincy said, a big smile on his face as he opened the bathroom door for me. “I’ll be right out here if you need anything, alright?”

“Alright,” I said.

The bathroom was large. A big tub, big shower, and big mirror. Thankfully, the sink wasn’t too far away from the door. I hobbled the few steps it took to get there before using the long counter for balance. Then, I looked into the mirror.

I did not recognize the person that stared back at me. His hair was long and red, like mine, but it looked thinner, less curly, and was a lot longer than I remembered mine ever to be. The hair fell around a sunken face with big, pale blue eyes in hollow eye sockets. It looked more like a corpse than a living person’s face.

I unbuttoned the light blue pajama shirt. I let it fall to the floor as I gazed at my exposed torso.

There was nothing there except skin and bones. I could see the ribs stretch against the pale skin as I breathed. My stomach still ached with breakfast, but it looked caved in—empty. I stared back up into those dead eyes, so sure that whoever they belonged to had long since passed this world. I held my breath as a single tear rolled down from one of them.

“Is everything alright in there, Alex?” Dr. Quincy called from outside the door.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” I quickly called back, brushing aside the tear. I bent down to pick up the shirt—having to struggle quite a bit to stand back up, even with the cane. Remembering something, I turned around, only to be taken aback when I saw that any sign of injury on my back was no longer there.

“Well, when you have a second, there’s someone out here that would like to meet you.”

I paused halfway through buttoning up my shirt. Who could he mean? I wasn’t too keen on meeting another one of our ‘Masters’. It seemed unlikely, but seeing first Mr. Copper and then Dr. Quincy back to back had to be more than just coincidence.

“Alright, one second,” I answered, buttoning up the rest of my shirt.

It was still a little awkward to open the door, having to keep both hands on the cane to keep myself from falling over, but I managed and was greeted by Dr. Quincy’s waiting smile and a young girl with red bowties clinging to his leg. She peeked at me from behind his jeans but covered her face when our eyes met.

“Alex, I would like you to meet my eldest, Maple,” Dr. Quincy said, placing a hand behind her back and gently nudging her towards me. “Maple, I would like you to meet Alex. He’s a...friend of Elizabeth and your daddy.”

“Hi, Maple, it’s nice to meet you,” I greeted, smiling.

Maple stared at the floor; her little hands clenched the slightly oversized pink shirt she wore. There was a design of a rabbit’s head that looked vaguely familiar embroidered on it.

“Sweetie, didn’t you have something you wanted to say to Alex?” Dr. Quincy asked, placing a hand on her head and stroking her dark hair. Maple’s hands seemed to clench tighter on her shirt.

“Would it be okay if I told you something first?” I asked, hoping to try and break the ice a bit.

Maple did not look up, but she did nod her head a fraction under her dad’s hand. Holding as tightly as I could to the walking stick with one hand, I used the other to quickly reach in my pocket and take out the little black rabbit. I held it out to her.

“Thank you for giving me this last night. It really helped me feel better.”

Maple looked up at the rabbit. Her eyes slowly moved into mine and I was surprised at how dark and intense they were up close.

“It did?” she asked me, her voice as soft as the kiss she gave me.

I smiled a bit more naturally. “Yes, it did,” I said, nodding for emphasis. “It made me feel much better.”

Maple continued to stare up at me with a serious expression. No smile, just staring into my face like she was looking for something. I looked back and, when our eyes met again, she shifted her focus to the ground.

“Are you ready to tell Alex what you wanted to tell him?” Dr. Quincy asked, kneeling down beside her and placing a hand over her tiny shoulders.

“My mommy...My mommy told me it’s okay to cry,” Maple spoke, quietly, but she looked back up to me with that same serious expression. “She told me it’s what helps make the bad feelings go away. But she told me also that you can’t be sad, no matter what. You can cry, but you can’t be sad.”

She then glanced back down at the tiny rabbit still resting in my palm. “That’s what Lionel is for. You cry and he’s supposed to take the bad feelings and make you not feel sad. So as long as you have Lionel you won’t be sad, okay?”

Our eyes met again, but she did not shy away that time. She held my gaze, waiting for an answer.

“But what about you?” I couldn’t help but ask. “You don’t want Lionel?”

“My mommy gave me Lionel when I was all alone, before I had my brothers and sisters. I love Lionel, but I have them now. I won’t be sad as long as I have them.” Maple nodded as if to reassure herself. “And Miss Elizabeth told me that you didn’t have any brothers or sisters, or a mommy or a daddy. Lionel takes the best care of people who are lonely.”

I watched her reach out a small hand, slowly, before it touched mine. It took the bony fingers and curled them over little Lionel. She kept her hand in place as she stared back up at me.

“Don’t be sad anymore, okay?”

My throat was closing up. Tears were brimming at the edges of my eyes. It was my turn to break the look as I brought little Lionel up against my chest. I held him close there and kept my eyes shut.

Finally, I managed to speak. “Thank you, Maple. Really.”

“Alright, sweetie, how about you go out and play with Miss Elizabeth and everyone else now, okay? Alex needs to rest for a little while,” Dr. Quincy said.

I opened my eyes to see him leading her out. She glanced back at me and I only had time to smile before she ran outside the room.

“You can come outside too, whenever you’re feeling up for it,” Dr. Quincy said with a gentle smile of his own before leaving, keeping the door slightly ajar.

I hobbled back over to the bed and sat down. The emotional moment had passed, but I still felt very weak. I held the rabbit in my hand, not wanting to let go.

If Maple really was anything like her mother, the ‘Knowledge’ Mr. Mallard had mentioned was more corruptible than he had hinted at if it was able to twist someone like her into doing something as horrible as hunting down her own children.

Then, it hit me. Mr. Quincy had never answered any of my questions about familiars, or anything else besides about his own family.

I looked back down at Lionel.

Maybe his family had more than enough to worry about.