Inimicus

4 Green Aura, Green Envy-2

Vera must have felt Jonah's eyes on her, because she looked up at him from her food. She half-smiled at him, and then mouthed the words, “We Can't Kill the Soprano.”

Jonah kept his face straight and nodded, hoping that this would work out well.

A few months, prior, he, Terrence, and Reena received blank checks from Turk Landry, a paranormal investigator who sought “atonement,” but that was total bullshit. They'd discovered that he was an Eleventh Percenter who didn't wish to be exposed. They had decided to keep the checks because—well, f**k Turk Landry. Terrence used his to treat his entire family to a steak and lobster dinner at a swanky chop house in Charlotte, and Reena used hers on a three-week trip for herself and Kendall. But Jonah had been advised to wait.

He knew what he wanted to do with it, and that was to have a wonderful date with Vera. Once Vera made it clear that she was amenable to that, Reena warned Jonah that patience was his best bet.

“You can't blow it on some quickie get-together that you could do at any time,” she'd told him. “Show her that you put some thought into it. It will be much appreciated.”

So Jonah took Reena's advice, and asked Vera what she wanted to see. He'd learned quickly that his assumption of the movies was wrong.

“A play?” he'd said after her exuberant clarification. “So you didn't mean movie theater?”

“Of course I didn't mean the movies,” had been Vera's response. “We can do that any old Saturday.”

“But Vera,” Jonah even tried to include supplication in his voice, “I'm not made for the theatre. Aren't most of those plays girly and stuck up?”

“Most of the prominent playwrights are men, Jonah.” Vera hadn't been deterred in the slightest. “You will love it!”

So, with Jonah's trying as hard as humanly possible to keep his misgivings and opinions to himself, they'd discussed plays that might strike them. They'd narrowed it down to two, which were on the same night: The Deferment of Change, which involved a frontiersman trying desperately to maintain outdated values and business dealings with the Industrial Revolution on the horizon, and We Can't Kill the Soprano, which entailed a self-absorbed centerpiece of a musical troupe who had to choose between the path to superstardom, and remaining loyal to the situation that made her relevant in the first place. Jonah left the choice to Vera, and she'd just mouthed her decision to him. They would see the latter play Saturday night.

Once he'd nodded to Vera, he turned to Terrence. “When will Alvin and Bobby be back?”

“Thursday,” responded Terrence as he made a third sandwich. “Dad and Mama really wanted them to visit their Aunt Monica, since they couldn't make her eighty-ninth birthday.”

Jonah frowned. “If Bobby, Alvin, and everybody are there, then why are you not with them?”

Terrence made a face, which he salvaged with a huge bite. “She never accepted me as family,” he said. “The b***h used to tell Bobby and Alvin that they did the family no favors when they brought me home with them.”

Reena winced. “What did Ray and Sterling have to say about that?”

“They've hated her for as long as they've been in the world,” grinned Terrence. “Dad and Mama don't appreciate her views of me, either, but they keep up the visits because the hell she'd raise if they didn't isn't worth the trouble.”

Jonah sighed. He still had family in the world, but they were basically strangers to him, and based on the level of intelligence they'd exhibited—or lack thereof— throughout his life, they were better off that way. Terrence's family wanted to keep the familial linkages strong, but they got resistance for that from this old woman. Some people in some families just needed to get over themselves and catch a clue.

“It doesn't matter, truly,” said Terrence. “I've got the best mom and dad, four, no, five brothers, and all my people here.”

Jonah's regarded his best friend. The indifference in his voice seemed a little contrived. But he decided not to mention it, and clapped him on the arm.

“You're covered on all fronts,” he told him. “But you can keep The Incline Down, though.”

“Jonah, you do realize that what you just said is an oxymoron, right?” said Reena in her trademark authoritative tone. “If you're inclining, then you're not actually going down. That's a decline.”

Jonah and Terrence looked at each other and snickered. The way they felt at that particular moment was what it felt like to be Reena. What it felt like to know something in the presence of an oblivious party. The look was not missed by Reena, who eyed them with more sternness.

“What's funny?” she questioned.

Terrence's grin didn't waver as he looked Reena in the face. “The Incline Down is a band, Reena.”

Reena blinked, and a sheepish look invaded her features. “I knew that,” she mumbled.

While Jonah was distracted by the fellowship of his friends, he hadn't forgotten that crazy dream. The scratch paper where he'd jotted the ominous thoughts down remained stashed in a notebook, and he hadn't told Jonathan anything. He hadn't told Terrence and Reena either. The words on the page were far-fetched and ludicrous, but the most annoying part was that most of the dream had slipped from his mind. His thoughts were inconclusive at best after he'd first had the dream at Nelson and Tamara's, but even those thoughts were gone now. The two things he remembered clearly were Creyton's cold fire and the hooded person.

Inimicus.

Part of him wanted to remember the rest of it. But another part of him wanted nothing to do with it. He didn't need those thoughts with his date coming up, and his new narrative class shortly after that.

Bobby and Alvin returned from their Aunt Monica's (which was in Kentucky) on Thursday. Neither Decessio brother was pleased that they had to go at all, so no one expected glowing stories. Terrence was happy to have them back, and Jonah was excited about their return to the fold as well.

But then something happened shortly after their return that made Jonah want to bash Bobby's head in.

Bobby returned to the weights to get his mind off the crappy visit to Kentucky. It had always been a ritual for them to train together, and despite a nagging discomfort in his mind, Jonah joined them on Saturday morning, hours before his date with Vera. Bobby was his usual intense, primal self, but Jonah had long since grown accustomed to that behavior. He was actually much more comfortable with weights now than he'd been when he'd first met them. By no means was he a specimen like Bobby, but the workouts no longer made him feel as though his muscles were ablaze.

They completed the workout without incident, but then Bobby, as zealous as ever, challenged them to do three barbell curls past failure. As a show of good faith, he pumped out three himself, no problem. Terrence did two, muttered, “Screw it,” and stopped. Alvin flat-out refused. Jonah, who'd planned to do the same thing, was now under the gun. He completed one, fine. The second was tougher. The third was halfway up when Jonah felt what seemed like a flame in his left arm.

“Goddammit!” he snarled as he dropped the weight.

Alvin and Terrence gathered round, and Bobby went to find the nearest Green Aura he could find. Jonah knew why he bailed; it had been his idea to go past failure, but he was fine. Jonah had paid for Bobby's zeal, and now Bobby didn't want to look him in the eye.

Why did this have to happen today?

Jonah was so pissed off that he wanted to get one of his batons and injure Bobby's arm in retribution.

Bobby returned with Liz, which was a relief, because he could have run across by-the-book Ben-Israel. She happened to be spiritually endowed, so she splayed her fingers over Jonah's arm, and waited for her fingers to gleam green.

“Brachial sprain,” she diagnosed with a furrowed brow. “A pretty rough one.”

Jonah focused on Liz so as not to throw a bilious glare at Bobby. “Can you fix it?”

“Absolutely!” said Liz. “I can fix it with no issue! I can inject the area with a salve, and you'll be right as rain in about nineteen hours—”

“Nineteen hours?” shrieked Jonah. “Liz, I'm taking Vera to the theatre tonight, don't you remember?”

“Jonah, I don't doubt that Vera would want you at full strength—” began Liz, but she stopped when Jonah rose. It wasn't an act of intimidation, but one of supplication.

“No, Liz,” he said. “I cannot reschedule this. Vera has her heart set on that play. I'm begging you. Please get my arm ready. Just go into your little black bag and give me some painkillers or—”

“Hell no,” said Liz acidly. “No way I'm giving you any of those things. Here.”She pulled a glass vial no larger than a perfume sample from her pocket, uncapped it, and held it in Jonah's face. Jonah looked at it in confusion. “Drink it,” she ordered. “It'll quell the pain.”

Jonah tossed it back with the hand of his good arm. It numbed the fire significantly.

“Now come with me,” said Liz.

She led Jonah out of the weight room, but not before she threw a furious look at Bobby. All he could do was hang his head as Alvin and Terrence laughed.

Several hours later, Jonah was at the front door, car keys in his right hand while his left arm was slung snugly against his chest. Vera met him there, looking beautiful in a silvery shirt that showed more cleavage than she usually did, and a black skirt. She regarded him with just a trace of concern.

“Jonah, are you sure that you want to—?”

“Yes,” said Jonah, steadfast and resolute. “Liz has got me fixed up good and proper.”

“And you aren't in pain?” asked Vera.

“Nope.” That was the truth. Liz was a godsend, just like her tonics. “I just feel a warm sensation, but Liz said that indicated that her solution was doing its job. I'm great. This night's gonna be perfect. I'm sure of it.”

Vera grinned. “Alright, then. Let's do this!”

“Let's,” said Jonah. “You're gorgeous, by the way.”

Vera chuckled. “You flatter me. But you look great yourself.”

The smile that Jonah gave her in return was a little forced. Not because he wasn't excited to do this with her, but because he still wanted to kill Bobby. If anything went wrong, it was his fault.

No. He wouldn't think that way. The night would be perfect.

Because he said so.

Jonah only drove with his right hand anyway, so the long drive was no problem. He'd thrown an extra cherry on top (an idea he'd gotten from his new friend Eva McRayne) with dinner reservations before the play. Vera hadn't seen that coming, and was pleasantly surprised. Batting a thousand so far.

They were seated near the back of the restaurant, which worked out well, because it meant they weren't in the thick of the waitresses and patron traffic. Jonah's only criticism was that the place wasn't brightly lit. It was almost like he'd need his reading glasses for more than just the menu.

“Jonah, this is awesome,” complimented Vera. “The Maiden's Rose? I didn't even eat here when I lived in the city.”

“Neither did I,” said Jonah. “I passed this place a million times on my way to do the number crunching, but I was never willing to come in here alone.”

“And yet, we could've gone anywhere, even someplace closer to the theatre,” said Vera in a pensive tone. “I'm pleased, don't get me wrong. I was just curious as to why you chose it.”