Precipitous Bar, part 8

Click here to start at beginning, or here to read the previous entry.  Fair warning: don't start here if you want to avoid spoiling the story.

Harriet closed her door behind her and locked it.  Dropping her backpack on the floor, careful despite happy she was to be rid of it, she stretched her shoulders.  Despite the break during the drive home, her back still ached from carry the heavy thing for the majority of the week.  Still, she got a lot done; she finally had enough material to finish her latest book.

Harriet still wasn't sure why she was so devoted to writing this book.  The past few years had been kind, and she could live comfortably off the sales of her last few publications.  Still, one isn't called the "premier name in entomological behavior sciences" by relying on one's previous successes.  She had to keep getting out into the field.

It wasn't easy, though.  Each trip out was a gentle reminder, and there was only so many times you can jump into a stream and start randomly walking downstream before your team starts to ask questions.  Questions that you really do not want to answer.

Still, today was a good day.  She had her needed material.  She managed to catch two previously categorized beetle species for examination.  And judging by the car parked outside, Victoria came home today.

Having her daughter living at the university during the day made this a bit difficult on Harriet.  She felt she had just gotten used to having someone else in the home, and it being as empty as it was proved difficult at times.  She had thought about getting a dog, but her work kept her out of the home for long periods of time now.  She felt the travel was much more needed than the animal companionship.

Still, it was nice to receive visitors.  Even if, in her mind, the "visitor" still lived there.

Harriet walked in to the kitchen where--sure enough--her daughter was rummaging in the fridge, hunched over like a thief trying to make themselves as small as possible.

"Well, I'm glad you don't feel the need to ask for food within the home, Vicky."

The girl jumped, barely managing to avoid hitting her head on the door.  She spun around, obviously surprised and trying to look upset but failing.  She couldn't help the grin that was crossing her face upon hearing her name.

"You know I asked you to call me Victoria now, Harriet," she said, one hand on her hip and one hand gesturing at her with the apple.

Harriet came around the counter between them to give the girl a hug.  Well, maybe not so much a girl any more.  "And I asked you to call me Mom.  Guess neither of us are getting our wishes today, hmm?"

"Hey, at least I managed to stop calling you 'Miss Stanford.'"

"After you managed to ruin a few business dinners with extreme awkwardness, yes."  Harriet pulled back from the embrace and looked at her.  No matter how old she got, Harriet still pictured her as the girl she took out to the field ten years ago.  "You look well.  Classes going alright?"

Vicky rolled her eyes.  "Like they're ever not."

Harriet took the apple from Vicky's hand.  "Good.  Then let's have dinner, instead of snacking.  And I'm glad to see you're grabbing apples instead of the Jello in the back."

"There was Jello??"

Harriet laughed.  Every day she was around Victoria she was reminded just how lucky she was.  Things could have gone very differently ten years ago when they came back from the Precipitous Bar.  Surprisingly, though, everything ended up being for the best.  Well, mostly for the best.

"How is your dad?"

Victoria's happy demeanor slid for a moment.  She managed to keep a hold of her smile, but a sadness entered her eyes.  "He's doing fine, all things told.  How did you know I'd gone to see him?"

"We spent a year together in a place where your feelings took physical form.  You don't come out of something like that without being able to read each other a little better."

She nodded.  There was more than once that the situation had been reversed, and she had caught Harriet trying to keep some sort of secret from her.  Such as when Harriet was trying to figure out how to explain to a young girl what had happened to her father that she no longer saw.

"I think he's actually better.  It's been a long time, I know, and I don't want to fall into the old hopeful habits.  But he actually thanked me today."

"Thanked you?  Really?  Did he say for what?"

"For leaving.  I think he's finally come to understand why I did, and what he did to..." she stopped at this point.  The smile faded for a moment, but came back quickly.  "It's hard, sometimes, to deal with all of this."

"You made the right decision, Victoria.  You stood up to the abuse, the hardest step for someone in your shoes, and managed to stop it without it consuming who you were."

She smiled now, genuinely.  "It only took me a year to figure that out, though.  A full year in the Precipitous Bar.  Strange how that worked out."

"On the contrary," Harriet said, grinning back.  "It only took you five hours.  It may have seemed like a year to the two of us, but only a few hours passed here."  She crossed her arms, but kept her smile.  "I thought we agreed not to talk about our time at the bar, anyway?"

"That doesn't mean I don't think about it.  And don't tell me you don't, too.  I can tell every time it does, and it's almost every time you see me."  Harriet shrugged her shoulders, but didn't deny it.

"I don't..." Victoria paused, and her tone turned serious.  "I don't think I've thanked you enough for everything you did for me when we got back."

"You have, actually.  More than enough."  Harriet locked eyes with Vicky, trying to make sure she realized her seriousness.  It was a conversation they had repeated time and again; Harriet found herself wondering if Vicky would ever stop feeling like she was a burden.  "I am so glad I had the opportunity to take you in when you needed me.  Although, to be honest, I think we owe Evan's parents more than anything else.  They made me sound like a hero at your hearing, and I don't think it would have worked out any other way."

"But if it wasn't for them, you may not have lost your job at the school."  She suddenly seemed very distracted by something by her feet.

Harriet knew what she was leaving unsaid.  Vicky felt she and Evan were responsible for the school board having her removed.  It was a feeling Harriet had been trying to help Vicky fight since she was young.  It wasn't a battle she was winning; Vicky suffered from a guilty conscious that was more stubborn than both of them put together.  Still, she was obligated to try.

"You know, maybe I should thank them for that, too," she said, putting back on the charming smile.  "Since I finally stopped teaching at that school, I've become very successful.  I even got to teach at the university for a few years!  I can't be too upset at the opportunities that have come my way."

Vicky nodded, forcing a smile that slowly grew into a real one.  "Do you every think about it?  I mean, really think about what happened while we were there?"

"Of course.  I'm reminded almost every day."  Harriet turned and walked over to the kitchen window, glancing out.  "I still talk to his parents, you know.  They haven't heard from him either.  It still shocks me how well they took the news."

"Well, they weren't exactly surprised.  Evan told him what he was doing from the beginning.  Half their family had a tendency to disappear looking for this place.  At least they knew for certain that Evan had found it."

"I suppose that's why they never pressed charges, despite pressure from the school board."  Harriet sighed.  It was hard thinking about Evan.  For all the help she was able to give Vicky, she always regretted that she couldn't help Evan.  "I wonder what he's doing now.  It's had to have been close to twenty thousand years that have passed over there."

"Well, I wanted to give you a gift for helping me out all this time," Vicky said.  Although Harriet wasn't looking at her, she could feel her excitement.  "So, here it is.  Now you can ask him yourself."

Harriet swung around.  From the nearby hallway strode a tall man.  He had slightly lighter hair, and his skin was so pale he almost seemed to be painted white.  His ears stuck out at a strange angle from his head and came to points, and his nose seemed smaller than she remembered.  But the eyes, the expressions, the rough cheekbones and pointed chin were all the same.  The man standing before her was unmistakeably--

"Evan."

He smiled, the same broad smile he had used so many years ago when he lead Harriet to the fantastical world of the Precipitous Bar.  Harriet walked over to him slowly.  He opened his arms in an obvious invitation.  Harriet found herself touching his arm first, trying to make sure he was real, before leaning in for hug.  Evan's arms obliged gratefully.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came here for you."

Harriet pushed away, looking up.  "What?  Why?"

He smiled.  "I'm sorry to be abrupt, but I don't have a lot of time here; days pass there as I speak.  The goblins have come in to the bar for the first time that any can remember.  They demand their Hobgoblin return, that we bring her to them."

Harriet looked at him, confused.  Victoria spoke up.  "Don't you remember?  That group of them called you Hobgoblin on when we were leaving.  You said one goblin called you that as you entered the bar, too."

Harriet stared at her for a moment before nodding.  She walked briskly into her room, Evan and Victoria following not too far behind.  Evan was calling after her, obviously worried she was trying to avoid going.

As they came into her bedroom, Harriet threw a pair of large bundles at them.  Evan quickly unwrapped his; it contained a large bow and quiver of arrows, as well as a long sword tucked into a thick leather sheath.

Victoria watched, confused.  She unwrapped hers to find a set of daggers, and a fantasy role playing book.  She hefted the book and looked at Harriet quizzically.  "What is this for?"

"Focus," Harriet said, as she took a strange looking, cloth-wrapped wooden rod down from the wall.  "You can use it to help you with your... Well, I guess your 'magic' that you use while we're over there."  Pulling the staff apart from the middle, she drew two wickedly sharp looking blades from the sheaths contained within.  The blades were thick, hand-folded steel; Harriet had spent a small fortune buying them ages ago, and now was very happy for the time spent training with them and keeping them in good shape.

"I can't go.  I've got school in a few months!  Who knows how long we'll be gone??"

"Even if we were there for a hundred years, you'd still have the rest of the summer to spend."  She smiled at her.  "Besides, you really want to miss your chance to go back?"

It only took Vicky a moment before she shook her head.  "I miss it more than anything."

Harriet grabbed a few more things she thought might be important and stuffed them into the pockets of a long coat she kept for travel.  It was light, but it covered a lot, and had enough pockets to hold most anything she wanted to bring along without looking too conspicuous.

It had been a curious few years indeed.

"So what do they want from me anyway?"  Harriet asked as they made their way out the front door and to Vicky's car.

"C'mon, now, Harriet," Evan said, in high spirits.  "You really don't think I'd come bother you here for anything short of slaying a dragon, right?"

Harriet laughed for a moment, until she realized she was the only one doing so.  She looked at the two of them, both with serious, but excited, expressions.  They stood there as such, standing outside of Vicky's car, sharing a moment of awkward silence.

"Wait, what?"

Fin