Free Otherland by Almondie Shampine Page B

down, leaving the Light knight with no choice but to dive toward the curb, scraping his hands and knees. The vehicle squealed to a stop, harshly reversed, and squealed to a stop again.
    “I am so, so sorry. You okay?”
    A beautiful, yet flustered, black woman with long black tresses and high-cheekbones ran toward him.
    The Light knight rubbed his skinned knees where his pants were now ripped, and painfully stood, “I seem to have had better days here,” he said, “But then again, I’m sure to have had worse, too.”
    “Ooh, you are a pretty thing, ain’t you?” she smiled. “You cut, you bleedin’, and yo’ pants be ruined. I am so, so sorry. My stupid folder fell and I was drivin’ and tryin’ to pick up the paintings before they got ruined. Lydia kill me if I spoilt her work. Here, you want some money, get you some new pants? You a tourist?”
    “Lydia?” the Light knight raised his brow. “I actually came here in search of Lydia. She may also go by Aliyah. She may not have any memories. You are friends with this Lydia?”
    “Yes,” she said hesitantly. “But you in the city. There’s probably hundreds of them. What is the last name of the person you lookin’ for?”
    “The Lydia I’m looking for may not have always been Lydia, so I do not have a last name. Aliyah’s last name was Demonica. Can you take me to her? I’ll be able to tell you if it is her.”
    “Boy, you crazy. I ain’t know you. Think I’m goin’ up and let you in my car. Dis New York City,” she murmured, walking away.
    “Please,” he followed her to the passenger side.
    “Boy, I will mace yo’ fool ass. Step away.”
    The Light knight gasped, seeing the paintings on the passenger seat. “Otherland,” he whispered.
    “What you say?”
    “It’s Otherland,” he said more loudly.
    “How you know that?”
    “It’s her. I know it is. She has a necklace, a silver chain, a heart pendant with a blue stone in the center. She may not remember where she got it. I gave it to her, many years ago. Please, you must take me to her.” Being so close to finding her and seeing her again made him feel a type of agonizing human desperation.
    “You an old boyfriend or somethin’?”
    “I’m her Light knight,” he said without hesitation.
    Cherise cracked up laughing. “You her Light knight. Now that somethin’ I ain’t never heard. You right. Lydia get a kick out o’ you. That girl ain’t had a man ever since I know her. Get in. You try anything, I’m packin’.”
    “Packin’?”
    “Yuh, I’ll shoot yo’ sorry ass.”
    Five minutes later, they were parked in a small driveway beside a very small house that had definitely seen better days. The Light knight couldn’t believe his luck. No, not luck. Thank you, High master. Everything had to have been aligned perfectly for this moment to happen.
    “Lydia’s … sensitive. You stay here. If she don’t wanna see you, then I’m goin’ respect that,” Cherise said.
    “Thank you, Light soul,” he bowed his head slightly with respect.
    She chuckled, “You an odd one. Fine, though, you sure that.”
    Cherise opened the heavy hatchback, as usual un-WD-40ed and squeaky as all hell. “It’s me, Cherise. What got you goin’ now, callin’ me not even 6 in the a.m.? You keepin’ me from my sleep.”
    Cherise found Lydia curled in a ball in a blanket at the very end of her bed, her eyes wide and frightened.
    “What?”
    “Look,” Lydia whispered, gesturing her head toward the other side of the bed where there was an orange towel.
    “It’s a towel, girl, jus’ a towel.”
    “Beneath it.”
    Cherise lifted the towel, and stepped back, almost shrieking herself. Instead, she started laughing. “Girl, almost had me goin’ fo’ a moment. Now if that ain’t one of the creepiest things I ever saw.” She picked up the canvas and admired it. “I’d kill to have this kinda talent. What is it?”
    “A fallen angel,” Lydia said, teeth chattering.
    “I told you, you