CHAPTER 17 - Miracles

6748 0 0

If it’s not over until the fat lady sings…maybe someone should gag her and lock her in a closet.

That…or distract her with a box of doughnuts.

 

 

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The sound was so sudden, Wendell flipped out of bed and onto the floor. With a bang and a whack, he hit his head on the metal bed frame.

“Ow!” he blurted out. Rubbing his scalp, annoyed, “What!?”

The door swung open to Dax’s beaming face. “Get up kiddo—it’s a day o’ miracles!”

Even after seeing the elf like this for a month, it looked unnatural. His features were bigger than a gnomes, like someone had used extra clay on a sculpture, or a live bobbing head. His teeth were still yellow and there was a slight curve to his oversized ears. It made Wendell wonder if the charms they’d been relying on all this time would eventually wear out? “What’s so…,” he started to argue, but Dax cut him off.

“Get up, get dressed, QUICK!”

Three minuted later, bouncing into his sweats, Wendell fell out into the hallway…and collapsed in front of…

“Alhannah!” he grinned. She was walking slowly down the hallway, hand on the wall, the other firmly gripping her father’s shoulder. “You’re up!”

She nodded weakly. Dressed in a robe and a cloth wrap over her head, she kept shuffling forward. The rings under her eyes were a deep black now, looking like she’d been punched in the face—but the weight in her cheeks was back. She no longer looked gaunt, which was a dramatic improvement. She looks like she’s regained half her weight over night. The miracles of herbs with a dash of Chucks magic he was guessing.

“Feeling a lot better, thanks,” she said just above a whisper.

Höbin beamed, “Pulse is strong, and other than being annoyed that I shaved her head while she was out, on a fast track to recovery.”

“WENDELL!” Dax screamed from down the hall.

He sighed and scrambled to his feet, “Excuse me.”

Deloris and Morty were eating breakfast at the kitchen table, having a conversation with Lili while looking back and forth at the television. Chuck stood at the sink washing dishes, while Dax was bouncing in front of the big screen. Wendell walked in to see the elf pointing up at the screen.

“Check this out!” he squealed, turning up the volume.

It was a newsflash from WHRN. A press conference was assembled outside the new Trench Wars arena. Cameras flashed at Burton Trench, as the gnome talked to the crowd. The scene pulled back. A title on the top of the screen: Champion or Chump—Has Trench Wars Been Compromised?

The reporters voice was live, “Just hours ago, reputable sources uncovered critical evidence, pointing to a plot against the rising star of the Steel and Stone team, Wendell Dipmier. Investigators explained that the unfortunate beheading of the Gnolaum in the semi-finals would not have occurred, had the S.L.A.G. not been tampered with.”

The sound bite of Burton Trench went live. Clean shaven, he didn’t look like the rough gnome Wendell had met in the slums below the city. This looked more like a slick executive. “The Brothers Trench and those at W.E.T. INC. had no knowledge of the break in and have, to this very moment, been dutiful in keeping a team pits secure with every means possible. It’s unfortunate to find individuals willing to go to such lengths as to compromise the integrity of this sport. However, we want to assure the public, the pilots and their sponsors that W.E.T. INC. will not tolerate such violations and will prosecute those accountable to the fullest extent of the law.”

Wendell blinked and found himself completely awake. Tampered? Someone tampered with my machine? His mind jumped back to seeing Alpha’s motion with its finger, drawing it across the S.L.A.G.s own throat.

The report cut to security footage of the Steel and Stone pit. “This hidden security footage was leaked to the local authorities, just hours after the completion of the tournament.” From the corner of the room, the small ceiling vent was lifted off its hinges and pulled up into the opening. A moment later two small figures in black outfits repelled down a rope, into the pit. The tape jumped forward, revealing Gnolaum being tampered with—the S.L.A.G.s cockpit door wide open.

“As you can see ladies and gentlegnomes, the Steel and Stone area, thought to be secure by Trench Officials was infiltrated during the lockdown period before the games. Analysis of Gnolaum’s hardware and software has confirmed that the machines programming had indeed been altered and sabotaged. Professionals have yet to break down the entire programming code, but this much has been discovered—the advanced program used against Steel and Stone contained two parts.”

“Shamas was right, kid!” Throwing himself back into the couch, Dax laughed, “You were being set up.”

The news report continued, showing two mug shots of rough looking gnomes. “The two gnomes apprehended for the crime are none other than Clint Canosa and Fabio Eggert, also known as The Moles.”

Wendell numbly walked to the couch and fell into it. He let his head fall into his palms, flabbergasted. This is starting to sound like a detective novel!

His eyes popped wide open when the pictures changed to a live scene of Centurions hauling off Darcy Dunnit in handcuffs from his apartment.

Dax’s brows popped up. “Wow,” he gawked, “I didn’t see that one comin’!”

“Hired by the DOA Team’s sponsor, Tramhill Manufacturing assigned the ex-cons to work for Trench Wars reigning champion, Darcy Dunnit. Tramhill has issued an official statement, denying all knowledge of the substantial criminal records of both Canosa and Eggert. However, the famous pilot of Alpha Flight had this to say in his own defense…”

Darcy continued to struggle against the Centurions hauling him away, “Just cause you spend a round in the can don’t mean you shouldn’t get a second chance! I was just trying to do my civic duty to forgive past wrongs and give those guys a job—how was I supposed to know they would turn on a fellow pilot!!”

The scene flashed to the WHRN studio and two pictures in the background—Darcy and Wendell, both in their pilot uniforms. The anchorgnome looked into the camera,  “Though many fans doubt the champions sincerity, neither the Centurions nor those at W.E.T. INC. can link the actions of The Moles to his direct involvement.”

Panning back, the camera shifted to focus on Rishima Geebler. Batting her eyes at the public, she smiled her perfect smile, “But the question everyone’s asking is—where does this leave Gnolaum and Wendell Dipmier? The games are over and though there was foul play involved, both the victim and the suspect have been eliminated. Trench authorities say the roster stands as is…but millions of fans have taken to the streets to protest the unfair and, I have to agree,” giving the camera and stern look, “unjust ruling against the Gnolaum.” Her stern look gave way to a bright smile, “We’ll be right back.”

Wendell sat, stunned, as a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush danced and sang with each other on screen. “So the church isn’t behind this after all?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Dax stretched, yawning.

“I’m not surprised at all,” coughed Alhannah from the doorway. She walked in slowly, leaning heavily on her father.

Lili smiled brightly.

“You’re up!” Deloris beamed, “Can I get you something to eat my dear?”

Alhannah licked her lips. “Would steak and eggs be too much to ask?” Höbin grunted and she rolled her eyes. “…or maybe a glass of juice.”

“Better,” her father smirked.

“Woah, Chuck!” Morty cried, jumping up from the table.

The wizard stood immobilized in front of the sink as the water poured over the lip of the cabinet and onto the floor. The liquid rushed past Alhannah’s feet, her father holding her steady.

“What are you doing!?” Morty snapped, turing the water off. He glared at Chuck, but the wizard didn’t move. “Chuck?” Snapping his fingers in front of the wizards face, “Hey—you ok there?” Deloris also got up and walked around the table.

“Is he alright?” she asked, concerned.

“Just leave him be,” Höbin said quickly, helping Alhannah take a seat at the table, “…and whatever you do, don’t touch him.”

Morty yanked his finger back from the wizards cheek, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s in one of his trances I’m guessing. I’ve bee around when it happens since I was a boy and you don’t want to be next to him when he snaps out of it.”

Morty frowned, “Why is…”

“SNOCKHOCKEY!” Chuck cried, flinging his arms outward. His right arm smacked the tinkerer square in the face, knocking the gnome backwards, up and then over the other side of the table.

Höbin bit his lip to stifled a laugh. “That’s why.”

The wizard gasped for breath and looked around wildly. “What the…? He looked dow at the water on the floor and lifted a sandaled foot, the liquid dripping from both his beard and his robes.

“It’s water,” Höbin clarified, pointing, “from the sink. You left it running.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, “Oh good.” The wizards cheeks flushed, “For a moment, I thought I wet myself.”

 

****

 

By mid afternoon, reports of small riots all over the city were being reported. WHRN and every other news station in Clockworks created their own drama and spin on the reasons why—but they all centered around the Gnolaum. Nat had also showed up, Nibbles attached to his side and shared more good news.

“The emails haven’t stopped,” he shared, his eyes wide, “even from fans of other teams. Just look,” and he turned his laptop around, displaying thousands of messages, all from the teams website. “The whole league has been so impressed with Wendell, they’re insisting he have a fair shot at the finals.” Rumors are already spreading that if  W.E.T., INC. won’t rescind their decision, mobs will converge on the new stadium and take out their frustration on the building!”

Alhannah sat across the table, drinking a steaming concoction Chuck had made for her. The kitchen smelled of flowers and old people muscle rub. “Has anyone suggested a rematch?” She crinkled her nose as she took another sip. Gulping, “That would satisfy everyone, wouldn’t it?”

Nat shook his head. “The fans have asked, pleaded, and when the Brothers Trench said no, revolted. Our own folks down in the factories have gone on strike. Textiles aren’t being produced or shipped out to the city. The media confronted Bellows on the matter, too.”

At the mention of the wealthy gnome, Wendell looked up. “What did he say?”

Nat read from the screen, “He said he wouldn’t interfere with the workers, because he felt their claim was just.”

Wendell smirked to himself.

“The official press release from W.E.T., INC., however, claims that by making any changes, the integrity of the games would be compromised. They say that those responsible for the upset have been punished, but that shouldn’t change the outcome of the games.”

Dax sighed and kicked his feet up onto the table, “It’s all right, ‘Hannah.”

“No, it’s not, Dax.” She looked across the table at Wendell, who hadn’t spoken more than a few words since Nat had arrived. He sat there quietly, with a folded envelope in his hands. “And I think it’s only a matter of time before they realize it down at W.E.T., INC..” She tapped the table with a finger, “Wendell? You ok?”

He looked up into clear eyes, set in the center of the dark shadows of her face. The corners of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Sure.” Then more convincingly, “Yes, I’m fine.” He slipped the envelope back into his pocket. But he didn’t feel fine. He felt trapped and frustrated. The turn of events had crushed his expectations. He’d let the muddles down,…and he worried deeply about Simon. Had there been another raid, to replace the people Wendell help escape? He wanted to go to the warehouse. Grab Otger and get back to the furnaces to make sure they were all safe—but that would put them all in jeopardy. Too many people were watching Wendell.

Because of foul play, he’d also lost all the money he’d earned in the side fights. The greed and politics and extreme measures people were willing to take, just to get gain and win the Trench Wars was sick. It made Wendell’s stomach turn. “Just not feeling at the top of my game,” he lied.

 

You must lead them into the light. Lead them, my son, back into the loving embrace of the world they were once a part of.

 

That statement…the expectation from the letter, felt like a knife in his gut. He rubbed his eyes with his palms. How the crud am I supposed to lead a race of plotting scoundrels into the light? He almost laughed out loud, but coughed and cleared his throat instead. Like I know what ‘the light’ is? Yet it was the last words of the letter which echoed over and over in his mind…haunting him:

 

Let go of your anger and frustration and trust in the path before you. Let go of your fears, my son. You will make mistakes. You will fall. You will even fail. But you must learn to let it all go. Instead, trust your heart and in your relationship with the gem.

 

Wendell had noticed certain feelings when danger was near. He could also tell when the gem was healing his body. I’m learning. Maybe not fast, but I am learning.

There was a sudden, intense tingle from the base of his skull, which trickled down his spine. Wendell shuttered. It felt…good. Calming, even.

The officials at W.E.T., INC. might not be able or willing to change the results of the fight, but… “What if we helped this revolt along?” he said out loud, completing his thought. Wendell looked up to find the four of them staring at him, shocked. He laughed nervously, “I’m not saying we lead a rebellion or anything, but why not focus the anger that’s already there towards our problem. Force the guys at W.E.T. to make a creative decision?”

“Huh,” Dax grunted. “That idea ain’t half bad. Whaddya think, ‘Hannah?”

She was still staring at Wendell, perplexed. “I think…coordinating with Bellows and perhaps Motherboard, might be a wise course of action.”

The elf grinned mischievously, “And what about Shamas? He is the one who unburied the truth—maybe he can use his sources to plant some of our own information.”

She shook her head, “I’d rather not. RH maintains a delicate balance with his informants. Not something I want to risk.”

Nibbles rubbed her hands together, “Guess that means I’m back in business, huh?”

Alhannah sighed and raised her tea cup, “Let’s hope.”

 

****

 

“I don’t think that was the smartest move, young lady.”

Alhannah stretched her arm over her head, reaching to her opposite ankle. “Those potions are amazing, dad, I almost feel like my old self.”

Höbin squinted his eye at her and pointed his finger. “Don’t change the subject! How is it going to look when the people finally discover Wendell’s true identity and it’s recorded that he also led a mob against the normals?”

She rolled her shoulders back, “He’s not leading anyone against the normals, dad, come on. He’s just redirecting some hurt feelings against the corporations—not gnomes. There’s a difference.”

The historian scoffed, “Not after the media get’s done with him!”

But she smiled like a fox in a chicken coop. Reaching for her trousers, she slipped them on under her robe, “We have it covered, don’t worry.”

“Alhannah!” Deloris called down the hall, “They’re on!”

Höbin looked to the door, then at his daughter, perplexed. “Who’s on?”

The corners of her lips curled upward as she flung open her bedroom door.

“Alhannah?” he said again, following after.

Deloris, Morty, Chuck and the TNT crew were all gathered around the television. Wendell’s face was as big as life, standing on the loading docks of a warehouse—Dax stood to his left flank.

Höbin halted in the hallway, avoiding the view of the mechanics. He took one look at Wendell on the screen and his heart sank. Thousands of citizens packed the street with signs, raising their fists in protest. The old gnome sighed heavily. “Oh, no.”

“Ladies and gentlegnomes,” Wendell said, raising his hands and smiling to the people before him, “I’m here to urge the good workers of Clockworks…those who have loyally and faithfully supported myself and the Steel and Stone team, not to hurt the beautiful new Trench Wars stadium.”

There were murmurs throughout the crowd. Gasps and looks of confusion.

“I know you want to see me finish the games,” he continued and the crowd cheered. He waited for the noise to die down. “But how fair or just would it be to take a victory away from Armored Ensemble?” he shouted. “From a pilot who followed the rules as much as I did!” His face crumpled dramatically to look stern, “What kind of gnomes would we be to demand justice, while stealing the same from another?!”

Morty laughed, “Hey,…he’s actually good at this.”

Alhannah sat down on the arm of the couch. “You’re not kidding.”

The camera zoomed in to get a close up of Wendell’s face. “It would make us no better than the gnomes who robbed me of my chance to fight for the workers of this city.” Looking directly into the camera, “So I am asking for you to change your focus. If any of you want to see me fight in the finals, make your voice heard. Contact W.E.P., INC. directly and talk to your spiritual leaders.”

“WHAT!?” cried Alhannah, Chuck and Morty at the same time.

The tinkerer almost jumped to his feet, “What in TGII does he think he’s doing!??”

Deloris, however, sat calmly on the couch with her am folded. “I think we just saw a masterful example of using leverage.”

Wendell’s smile was one of conviction. “If we all work together, I believe we can,” the smile grew, “encourage a proper decisions to be made that will satisfy both teams, while maintaining the integrity of the games.”

The crowd went crazy.

Are you enjoying the stories so far?? If you are, consider buying me a coffee from my ko-fi -- it's how I fund my writing and this website. THANKS!!

Support WantedHero's efforts!

Please Login in order to comment!