Chapter 11: A Frosty Reception

Monday, July 24th, 2006, Quebec City, Quebec, Canada

“You look so handsome today, JJ! And you smell yummy! Now, aren’t you glad that you let us take you shopping yesterday!” Heather gushed at me with a huge smile on her pretty face.

“Thanks, I kno—”

“Yes, he does look super hot now! And he’d better smell good, Giorgio Armani’s Acqua Di Gio makes almost any man smell sexy!” Abby agreed enthusiastically.

“Si, Hermana! He does! What a change! You look mucho handsome now, mi Gato!” Maria espoused, sounding much more like her old self than the depressed person she’d been a few days ago.

I’d been fucking her good every day since Saturday. She was by no means fixed, but the quality sex plus the good vibes that everyone was always sending her way had made a noticeable difference in her demeanor. She only moped half the time now. I’d fucked her doggy against the shower wall while Sheila had sucked her clit just before we left, so she should be even-keeled emotionally for a couple of hours.

“They’re right, you know. You look super sexy now, Jake. We’re going to have to beat off the ladies with a stick!” our mother said as she slapped my butt. “And we can finally see that nice ass of yours when your wearing pants!”

“Yeah! He’s got such a sweet butt too! BUUUUT, it always looked like he had shit himself before!” Heather quipped with a giggle.

“Hey! It wasn’t that bad!” I admonished her with a mock glare that only served to fuel her giggling.

“Or like he had cut his butt off, you couldn’t see anything in the pants he used to wear all the time! At least he actually took his shirt off while mowing the lawn or working out in the garage, or I’d never have had any masturbation fantasies!” Abby added as she gave me a wink and a smirk.

I swiveled my mock glare over to Abby, and that just made her laugh adorably.

“Oh yes, it was, Hunny-Bunny!” Sheila disagreed as she snuggled in close to where she was gripping my bicep as we walked.

“Mommy! ‘Akes a bunny? Ima goat!?” Billy stated questioningly as he laughed delightedly.

“Yes, you are! You’re mommies favorite Billy-goat in the whole world! I love my Billy-Willy!” Sheila said as she beamed at her adorable son, where he walked next to Abby, holding her hand.

“Even Billy dressed better than you, Bro!” Abby joked as she stuck her tongue out at me.

“Jeez, Louise! I bought a gazillion dollars worth of clothes—that all of you ladies approved of, by the way—and now you make fun of me? I’m wearing what you all like now, so where’s the logic in that?”

“Well, we would never have made fun of you before we had money and couldn’t buy you new stuff! That would’ve just been mean, Jake-e-poo! Now we can all laugh because you changed, literally!” Kelly said with a giggle at her unintended pun as she kissed my cheek and squeezed my arm to her breasts.

“You know, I think that I could get used to eating croissants for breakfast, man, are they ever good!” I said, trying to change the subject as we strolled down the cobblestone street.

“Mmm, yeah, they certainly are delicious!” Abby said, giving me another smirk because she knew that I wanted to change topics.

It was a bright sunny morning—although they were calling for a rainstorm later in the afternoon—and the scent from all of the flowers that seemingly grew in window boxes everywhere was delightful. We heard a lot more French being spoken as we walked towards the city hall than we had in the more touristy sections, and it sounded neat. It was kind of a flowery sound itself; maybe that’s why they planted so many. We all noticed that the people were much friendlier here than they were in Boston; people greeted us continuously as we passed. We all knew how to say Bonjour by now.

“For fuck sakes! We’ve walked by this massive castle about twenty times! And this, this is their city hall!? It’s fucking huge! And what kind of people call their city hall a hotel duh ville anyway! That sounds an awful lot like the village hotel to me! Can they rent me a room? Why don’t they at least have a sign out front?” I ranted at no one in particular as I was feeling the stress of what we were trying to do start to get to me.

“Yeah, I thought that this was another castle that they built for the battle!” Heather agreed.

“I should have remembered that hôtel de ville meant city hall. It’s been so long, I’m sorry, Hunny-Bunny!” Sheila told me contritely as she patted my arm.

I sighed and blew out a deep breath, “It’s not your fault, Pumpkin. I’m just getting stressed all of a sudden. My friend is getting nervous now that we’re getting closer, and his anxiousness is rubbing off on me,” I said while trying to refocus.

“At least that nice guy on the bicycle was able to point it out to us when he saw that we looked lost, and we’ve found it now. It’s neat that it’s like a big castle; it almost looks like one of the buildings the Royals use in England!” our Mom said admiringly.

I had to admit that the building was pretty impressive. It was made of giant stone blocks and had six floors with a spiked iron railing running along the roof. The peaked tower-like turrets and huge dormer windows really made the building imposing. Even the entrance made you feel small as the double wooden-oak doors hung huge and heavy-looking.

“True, well, let’s go and see what we can find out. Cross your fingers, everyone, and pray that we can find someone who can get us underground and into those chambers Kareen told us about,” I said with determination in my voice.

We’ve got to get the ring today, m’boy! Every instinct I’ve got is telling me that we don’t have much time before the council sends some assassins and guards here.

<Scare the shit out of me, why don’t cha? What have they sent after you before? That way, maybe I’ll have an inkling about what to expect.>

Usually a few wizards, but once a pack of Firedogs, I believe your ancient lore on Earth calls them Hellhounds. They are a nasty piece of business, setting everything on fire, and their bite burns like lava. Oh, yeah, and one time they sent a Methusalamar. We managed to survive the Firedogs but not the witch of the stone heart.

<What the Hell is a Methusalamander or whatever it was that you just said? And Firedogs, seriously? Like do they breathe flames and shit?> I asked him incredulously.

<Medusa’s? Seriously? Is every fucking myth and legend actually for real?!>

Yes! That’s it! Medusa’s, you do have legends about them. I couldn’t find where you had stored that in your memory index. Their species’ actual name is Gorgon’s, and the Greeks of your world had encountered them before Merlin unwittingly aided Morgana into depleting most of Earth’s magic pool. Medusa was a specific Gorgon, actually, not the name of the race itself. It’s all right there, filed under Greek Mythology. You really should work on your ability to recall information—you perform pretty abysmally in that respect, you know.

<Gee! Thanks! Maybe if you weren’t clogging up the neuron pathways to my subconsciousness with your fat ghostly butt, and weren’t always thinking about your ass fucking obsession, then I could!>

Now, now, no need to get grumpy. And, oh, not every myth or legend is real—Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny are complete fakes.

<Yeah, I could’ve guessed that, along with the Tooth Fairy, of course.>

Actually, the Tooth Fairy is quite real and very, very nasty! You don’t want to let her get anywhere near your teeth—ever!

I pulled back on one of the giant wooden doors to enter the city hall and was surprised at how easily it moved. It was supremely well balanced! Right away, I could see that we were going to need help—just to find where to go to find help—ironically.

We found ourselves standing in a gigantic lobby on a white marble floor, and the vaulted ceiling was over twenty feet above us. There were various blue signs that had French words written upon them, but I was clueless as to what they could mean.

About thirty feet across from us was a partition wall made of wood with frosted glass windows. A single secretary’s desk was stationed at the entrance. Each of the side walls had two corridors that ran off to who knew where and some of those French signs had arrows pointing on them, no doubt directing a person to where they needed to go ... if they were a Frenchy.

“Hey, Pumpkin, can you understand any of these signs?” I asked hopefully because I was completely clueless.

I noticed that there were two guards stationed in each far corner. Maybe they could be of help if we got desperate enough.

“Sure, Hunny. That way’s the Library, the same side but the further down the corridor is for payments and traffic fines. Over there is for employees only, and the other passage is to the elevator bays, washrooms, and archives. Straight ahead is information, permits, inquiries, and legal stuff. I’m not sure of the exact translation for the last one,” she said helpfully with a smile.

“Okay, well, I hope that you’re ready to jump in with your French, my love; I have a feeling that they don’t get many Americans in here,” I stated ruefully as we headed towards the bespectacled overweight lady sitting behind the desk.

The lady glanced up at us as we approached, she already looked cranky, and we hadn’t even spoken to her yet. “Oui? Puis-Je vous aider?” she said, sounding bored and irritated.

“Uh, hi. We’re Americans, tourists really, and uh—I was wondering who we could speak to regarding the reservoir that’s underneath the plains of Abraham?”

“Non, ce n’est pas pour les touristes,” she stated dismissively as she looked back towards her computer screen ignoring us.

“Uh, she just said that place isn’t for tourists, Jake,” Sheila said quietly next to me with a frown.

“Well, how fucking rude!” Heather exclaimed.

“So she understood me, then?” I asked Sheila loudly, causing the fat middle-aged secretary to glance up at me again, clearly annoyed.

“Yes,” she replied as she grabbed my arm and squeezed it in a gesture of support.

“Listen here, you fat Bitch! You will help me find what I need, and be polite about it, or I will make your life very unpleasant!” I fumed at her, in no mood to be delayed by idiotic bureaucrats.

Tingle.

“Oui, yes, I can be helping you, excuse moi, er—excuse me. I am sorry for rude; I was very distracted by small problem. How may I aide toi, I mean help you,” she asked with a very concerned look upon her face.

“That’s better! Now I need to speak with someone who can show me the underground reservoir, preferably someone who speaks English,” I demanded in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

“Srieusement? I ... I don’t thought that they will take you down dere, dough! But, de person who need to be speaking to is Monsieur Montpetit. Him is de ‘ead of de Département des travaux publics, and him spoke English,” she said politely. “To be finding him, tournez droite ici—how you say ... er ... right! Yes, right! At the finish of de ‘allway him be dere in de office!” she finished, happy that she could help.

I led my platoon of super-models, plus one adorable toddler, in the direction that she had indicated, hoping to find our ticket to the underground treasure room—or at least that’s how I was thinking of it.

“Wow, they certainly went all out decorating this place,” Abby commented as we passed painting after painting, framed in gilded wood, as our footsteps echoed off the marble floor and down the hall.

“Yeah, they look expensive,” Sheila added.

After about a minute, we reached the end of the long-deserted corridor and found ourselves standing in front of a door with the name M. MontpetitDirecteur du Département des Travaux Publics emblazoned upon it in black lettering. I knocked hard upon the door.

“Entrez,” A deep male voice said from within, and even I understood that to mean come in.

I opened the door and saw a balding gentleman dressed in a grey suit sitting behind an elegant dark wooden desk. He regarded us curiously as we entered with our rather large party. He looked to be close to retirement-aged, and unlike the secretary, he at least had on a welcoming smile. His office was quite spacious, and it had a beautiful windowed view of the small park across the street. A picture of what was presumably his pretty wife and good looking teenaged children sat upon his otherwise sparse desk. He had a large Starbucks coffee next to his keyboard and a couple of work-related documents within his hand.

“Bonjour et comment puis-je vous aider aujourd’hui? Monsieur?” he said pleasantly as he sat back and placed his papers into a desk drawer.

“He asked how he could help us,” Sheila helpfully murmured next to me.

“Excuse,” I had learned that meant sorry in French. “We are Americans, and other than my girlfriend here, we don’t speak French, Mon-sewer Mon-pee-tit,” I replied with a warm smile of my own as I struggled while trying to pronounce his name.

“Ha! Mon-pee-tit! I love it! I’ve never heard my name butchered so funnily before! Wait until I tell my wife that she is my pee tit! She’ll either laugh or slug me!” he quipped back in perfect English with just a tiny hint of an accent, chuckling heartedly as he did so.

“Sorry!” I said abashedly. “I meant no offense!”

“None taken! That was the highlight of what has been an otherwise dull day so far! So how may I be of help?” he asked, clearly still amused at my severe lack of linguistic skills.

“Well, sir, we’d like to see the inside of the maintenance building and the underground rooms that were dug out as part of the reservoir beneath the Plains of Abraham. Kareen Doobwa”

“Karine Dubois,” Sheila interjected as she too chuckled at my poorly pronounced French.

“Yes,” I nodded gratefully to my Pumpkin, “she told us all about how her grandfather had dug them out back in the fifties, and we’re very curious to see them. Please take us there and give us a tour. It would be very appreciated, and of course, I would happily compensate you for your time,” I said politely. “I hope that you will agree to take five hundred dollars; it’s a pittance compared to our disturbing your busy workday, I’m sure.”

Tingle.

“Compensate? Pittance? Our brother gets a little money, and then he starts to talk like a Rockefeller!” Abby whispered loudly to Heather, causing them both to start giggling.

“Somebodies getting a spanking later,” I muttered under my breath.

I barely heard the twin echoes of, “Goody!” as both of my sister’s twittered excitedly. I frowned at them, but that just made them start to giggle even more, so I did the only smart thing I could do, which was to turn my attention back to Mr. Monpeetit.

“Sure! I won’t say no to some extra cash, I have a teenage daughter, and she cleans me out every week begging for her allowance, not to mention all the clothes that she swears that she needs! Government salaries do not make one wealthy! I must say, though, this is quite an odd request. I don’t think that anyone has ever asked for such a thing before,” he stated jovially as he locked up his desk and stood up.

“Great! Here, let me pay you in advance; it’ll save me the trouble later,” I said as I counted out five one-hundred-dollar bills and pressed them into his hand.

“You’re too kind! Thanks, mister...”

“Oh, I am so sorry! Where are my manners! I’m Jake, and this is Kelly, Sheila, Maria, Abby, Heather, and Billy!” I said, introducing everyone.

“Me! Ima Billy!” he said with a laugh. “Ima goat and ‘Akes a bunny!” he exclaimed importantly.

“He is? Well, that makes you both special then! I can’t recall the last time that I met both a goat and a bunny in the same day!” he replied as he bent down to ruffle Billy’s hair. “How would you like a lollipop? I keep a bunch above my desk just for such special occasions when I meet such handsome little boys like yourself!”

“Yay! Candy!” Billy yelled triumphantly as he eagerly stuck his chubby hand out.

We all smiled as the grandfather aged city worker opened up a cupboard on the wall behind him, grabbed a red sucker, and presented it to our grinning munchkin.

Yes! We’re getting somewhere, m’boy! I can feel it!

I could almost hear Malachar dancing around inside of my head excitedly as we neared getting another piece of his soul within our possession.

<Yup! Plus, you’re gonna love it when I fuck Maria’s tight little ass in celebration!> I replied, and I swear his dancing sped up with exhilarated anticipation.

“Ahh, and here we are—the mysterious reservoir maintenance building! I still don’t know what could be so interesting to see down there, but this is a welcome diversion from my paper-pushing,” Mr. Montpetit said as he unlocked the solid—green-painted—metal door for us.

Martin—as we learned his first name was on the leisurely twenty-minute walk overstepped back and ushered us in. I led the way inside the narrow doorway and looked around. There wasn’t much to see, just a big, mostly empty room with a couple of tables and some metal shelving pushed up against the walls that were holding various tools and parts of some sort. There were two grey metal doors set into the far wall, one that was marked Électricité, the other was just plain.

“Is there a way down to the rooms underground?” I asked anxiously.

“Yes, this way,” Martin said as he stepped past me and opened the unmarked door, which revealed that there was a stairwell leading downward behind it.

The walls within were just plain cinderblock, and the stairs and railing were the standard black painted metal; the bare lightbulb above flickered for a moment before steadying into its luminance after Martin threw the switch.

“Good thing that Billy went back to the hotel with Maria; he would have been scared, I think,” Sheila commented as she peered down into the dimly lit stairway.

“Maybe, but there’s nothing down there besides the basement, really. Just damp unused passageways and some old empty storage rooms,” Martin replied with a shrug. “Just let me grab a couple of flashlights, just in case the bulb below burns out.”

We waited, and I could feel the tenseness of my girls as we all watched him procure two of them from a silver metal cabinet in the corner. He tossed me one with a grin and then led the way down.

We are so close; it is blazing out to me as if a piece of the sun itself was just a few feet away hiding behind a hazy cloud!

<Well, it seems like we’re a step ahead of our enemies as well, so let’s get it and skedaddle!>

It was a narrow staircase, and we had to go in single file as we descended. It ended at another grey metal door, which Martin opened with ease before moving on through; after a brief second, the room he’d just entered filled with light. A couple of long fluorescent tubes fluttered and buzzed with electricity in the low ceiling above, and we all had a look around. It appeared to be about the same size as the floor above us—twenty by thirty feet or so, and there was one door set into the wall opposite us. This one was rust-colored, and it looked far older than the three that we had passed through to get to where we were standing.

The cement was damp in spots, and the room had an old musty smell reminiscent of wet cloth and mossy earth. Various materials were lying haphazardly around the room: pipes, tubing—both metal and plastic, copper wiring, a molding box of long lightbulbs that matched the ones above our heads, a broken widow casement, a pile of two-by-fours, and a few sheets of plywood that were leaning up against the near wall.

“So, is the old passageways and storage rooms through there then?” I asked, nodding towards the rusty door, although it was mostly rhetorical.

“Yes,” he replied with a wry shrug as if to say—hey, it’s your dime, so whatever floats your boat. “It should be unlocked. No one goes in there anymore that I’m aware of. Probably hasn’t been opened in a couple of decades if I had to guess.”

We are about a hundred feet away! Go, go, go!

<On it, bud.>

I walked forward and grabbed the handle and was surprised when it turned with complete ease; it looked rusty, so I had been prepared to have a bit of a struggle. I pulled open the door and stared into a dark corridor, I couldn’t see much farther than twenty feet or so, and it smelled much mustier and damper in there—it was colder too. The floor was a rough cement as compared to the basement we were in, and the walls were a crumbling red brick, no cinderblocks in that hallway. I’d bet my bottom dollar that they were shoved right up against dirt, which would explain the rot and the smell. Brick will deteriorate eventually if left damp for too long.

“Where’s the light switch?” our Mom asked curiously as she stepped up next to me and peered in.

“There is none, I’m afraid, the wires rotted out a long time ago, and we never bothered replacing them. I wasn’t sure that you’d actually want to go in, but that was a part of the reason that I grabbed the flashlights. Do you still intend to go all the way to the old storage area?” Martin asked with polite interest.

“Yeah, gotta get our five hundred dollars worth!” I exclaimed with a chuckle. I flicked the light on and shone my beam down the cramped tunnel, and started on my way. “Come on, my gorgeous ladies. Nothing to be afraid of; it’s just damp, dark, cramped, and underground!” I pointed out with a laugh that echoed eerily back at me as the sound bounced off the walls.

“Yeah, thanks for making it less scary! You jerk!” Heather accused, sounding partially serious as she scurried upfront to grab my hand.

“Now be nice, Jake! It is creepy down here, and you know it!” our Mom admonished me—it was almost like old times when I’d bug my sisters for no reason.

“It’s not scary per se, but I hate feeling claustrophobic, and it’s very tight down here,” Abby moaned quietly and involuntarily; it was true I’d forgotten that she had a mild phobia of tight places.

Not as tight as your ass, Honey! You gotta fuck it again, Jake, it was sweet! Now get the ring, m’boy! We’re so close that I can taste it!

<What? Taste the ring or her ass?> I asked him as I laughed.

Heather’s right! You’re a jerk! Now move it!

<No need to be all shitty!> I quipped at him.

You’re a real comedian. Har de har har har as you said to me once.

Abby scurried forward as well, only she grabbed Heather’s freehand instead of mine. I saw that our Mom did the same as she hurriedly reached out and took Abby’s, and Sheila took our mother’s in turn. I guessed that they all were apprehensive about being down here. I’d have to make it up to them later, especially Abs. I turned and led them onward as we formed a Human daisy chain, with Martin following in the rear; his light was a welcome addition for the girls, I was sure.

“It’s also freakin’ cold down here!” Sheila commented as she shivered a little.

It was too narrow to walk more than one abreast, but at least the ceiling was seven feet tall because if it weren’t, it would have made it feel much worse. We walked for about eighty feet until the corridor ended at an old rotten wooden door that stood slightly ajar on severely rusted hinges.

“Are there any more chambers after this one?” I asked curiously as I turned my head to look back.

“Yes, there are three in a row, all separated by about ten feet of hallway. They used them to store building materials when the construction was underway. Afterward, they decided that leaving the rooms in place and just covering them over at the same time that they covered the reservoir itself was cheaper than demolishing them. So here they stand—a window into a time long past,” he said in his lecturing voice that I noticed he tended to use when instructing us on the history of the area.

He was a likable guy, and he made a good teacher; I was glad to have given him the five-hundred it sounded as if he could use it. Maybe I’d invite him and his family out to dinner at the Le Saint-Amour, that place was awesome. I’d ask Karine and John-Pierre to come again as well; they were fun.

“Hurry, JJ, please! I wanna do what we came here for and then get back outside! It really is scary down here!” Heather begged as she squeezed my hand almost painfully tight.

“Okay, Peanut. Let’s go,” I agreed.

I stepped forward and pushed on the door; this one was stuck. I put my weight behind it and shoved hard; it barely moved a couple of inches. I grunted in frustration, yet at the same time, I was thankful that it didn’t open in our direction, then I would’ve been stuck pulling on it instead. I pushed hard again to no avail, so I turned sideways, braced myself, and doubled my effort. I dug in my heels and put my shoulder to it, grunting with the amount of force that I was using. It reluctantly gave ground—slowly at first—then, without warning, it grated free. A loud raspy scraping sound caused by wood on stone echoed throughout the area. I lost my balance at the unexpected shift and fell forward through the doorway, landing roughly on my hands and knees while cursing in embarrassed anger.

“JJ!” Heather screamed in startlement, echoed by a nervous Abby right after her.

“Son of a fucking bitch! You scared the fuck outta me!” Abby grumped angrily, wanting to vent her fear turned to anger at something or someone.

“Oooh, Baby! Are you all right?” our Mom asked as I picked up the flashlight from where it had bounced out of my hand and stood back up, dusting myself off.

“Hunny-Bunny! Are you okay!” Sheila screeched at the same time.

“Oooh, that looked hard on the knees, young man! I’m glad it wasn’t me! At my age, a fall like that would have me bed-ridden for a week—at least! I hope you’re okay!” Martin exclaimed sympathetically.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Just a couple of scraped palms, I’ve had worse,” I grunted, feeling a bit flustered at falling. “At least it’s open now,” I quipped with a wry chuckle as I scanned the room that I had just crash-landed into.

It was large, about forty feet by forty or so, and as I ran my beam of light around the walls, I saw that there was another wooden door opposite from where we stood, this one closed tight. I sneezed at the dust that my fall had kicked up and stepped further into the room, allowing the others to crowd in behind me. I think that they all wanted out of the confining passageway; I had to admit that it was pretty unpleasant in there. I was cold, damp, and now bleeding a bit from my scraped hands; rough cement hurt like a bitch when flesh skidded over it.

<Nothing, I see nothing. This room doesn’t even have a mouse turd in it; it’s so empty. Is it in the next one, maybe? Where do you sense it?> I asked Malachar as I was getting pretty anxious and just wanted to get the ring and get back to the warmth and sun.

It’s in this chamber to your left at the far wall; it must be behind a loose brick or something. Have you ever played the game hot or cold when you were a child?

<Yeah, I used to play that when I was little with my Dad all the time.> I said as I had a flashback of his big happy grin as he spent time playing with me. God, I missed him, and not for the first time; I wondered what he’d think about me—his son—being sexually intimate with his wife and daughters.

Good, because I want you to slowly run your hand over the bricks, and I’ll direct you with up and down and hot or cold.

Just as I was about to move towards the wall indicated by Malachar, the room exploded with a burst of blinding light and freezing cold, and I was frozen stiff. I tried moving and realized that I was bound up tight within something exceedingly sticky; it almost felt like being wrapped up in freezing cold spandex.

We’re under attack! That was a blinding flash spell followed by a sticky web! Fuck! I knew it seemed too easy; they set a trap! We’re up against a sorcerer, m’boy!

<I can’t see! Shit! I can’t move! Oh my god, I’m fucking blind!> I cried out within my head in a panic.