Terrell and Diramina

"No I don't know, and you haven't answered any of my questions. What are you and what are you doing here?"

I take a shivering breath. "I'm just a regular person, I have no idea what's going on or where I'm at, and this has just been happening for the past month." My voice is muted to my own ears. I look down at my hands to find that they're see-through and barely there. I rush through my next sentences. "I'm not here to do anything bad, sorry for the intrusion."

He stands back, watching me fade away. "Mm."

...

What a bastard.

I mean I'm out wandering his property in the middle of the night every couple weeks, but he's seen that I literally have no control over it. What's he gonna do, call the cops next time he sees me? So they can watch me disappear as soon as they get there?

I think about his brutish demeanor. Probably.

In his barn, on his land. In Homei. I've researched every possible country, town, small city, hamlet, and village it could possibly be, and haven't found it. He had a vaguely northeastern accent, and I don't recall any immediately distinguishing features. Somewhat South Asian? He was light brown with round eyes, and he had that thick dark hair, but I couldn't peg his look for any specific location. I search in vain for straggling clues the rest of that week.

I expect my mother or Sia to at least ask me how things are going, but they barely speak on it. I wonder exactly what my grandmother told them to make them hush up.

Or it could be another hex. Things are so wrapped up and secretive at this point that I have no idea, and I have no intention of facing my grandmother on my own to ask her. I have no powers, right? I couldn't get anything out of her even if I wanted to.

I just have to rest assured in the fact that no harm is going to come to me. Although I'm not resting very assured.

...

"You're here early again."

I look around, and he's inspecting one of the sheep. For what, I have no idea. I walk over, and he straightens up, eyeing me.

"I've been trying to go to sleep at different times to see if it'll stop bringing me here," I explain, yawning. I recognize and reach out to my friend, who's clopping forward to meet me.

"Hands to yourself."

"Oh. Sorry. She uh, she's the one who's always nice to me when I'm here."

"She'll break your ribs with her skull."

I look down at her, amused. "You will?"

She flicks her ears and swings her head, strange pupils winking at me.

The man leans up against the fence, letting go of the hoof of the sheep he had. "You know why you're here yet?"

I shake my head, rubbing my face, but then consider. "My family has magic a few lines back, and my mother thinks her mother has something to do with it. Don't really have anything beyond that."

He brushes his pants off, standing. "Should figure it out fairly soon, tired of my dogs going off all the time."

I frown. I don't like being dumped into a cold, desolate barn in the middle of the night any more than he likes being woken up.

"Wait, you have more than one?"

He turns back around. "More than one what?"

"Dogs. I've only seen the pit-looking one, thought she was a weird choice for a farm."

"My choice of dogs is my choice of dogs. And I'd prefer not to bring any more of my animals around to be charmed by whatever tricks you're turning," he says decisively, looking at the sheep nudging and chewing at my sweater. I'm glad I've taken to wearing it when I go to sleep.

"Okay." I don't feel like addressing any of that statement. I sigh and turn back towards my wooly friend, letting her snuffle at my hand.

"I said hands off!" he calls. The sheep and I look at him, and I straighten up. "Aren't you usually supposed to be gone by now? It used to be as soon as I saw you."

"I really don't know. That one night I think I stayed the longest, I didn't even really wake up when I got here, so I don't really know how long I stay."

"Talking about when you were laid out in the middle of my flock one night?"

I cringe. "Hard night."

He stands at the door to the barn, face pinched. "Listen, can't you just... you can try to appear on my couch or something, and be gone whenever in the morning. Until you figure out how to stop it."

I can't control when I show up, what makes him think I can figure out where? I ball my fists in my pockets against the cold that's drilling into my skin. "Thanks...? I uh... can maybe try that. Is that the house across the field?"

"Come on."

I follow him to a four-wheel bike-looking thing parked in front of the barn. He climbs on and looks back at me, sizing me up warily before waving me over. I climb on after him, and he wakes the motor up. The revving is the only warning I get before he's off. I manage to fasten myself to the entire length of his back, and he stiffens up before relaxing, still ripping along the path to the house like a demon on wheels.

When he coasts to a stop in front of the house - all real brick, it seems, not just facing - I unwrap my arms from around his body and slide off of the seat, borderline boneless.

He watches me again. "Not used to vehicles?"

"Not that kind," I shiver, before turning to his home. "Nice place."

"I know. Come on."

I want to shove him one good time. But that wouldn't be very civil of me, seeing as I'm on his land, with his barn and house and bike and whatever the fuck else he cares to point out to me as his.

"It might help me figure out how to stop this if I knew a little more. Your name, where this is, all that. I've been researching for weeks and I have no clue, except it's supposed to be 'Ho-may'."

He pushes the door open to two identical dogs, except that the coat on one is a few shades lighter. "Om-meh," I hear before the dogs rush to say hello.

"Noted. Hey babies! I'm sorry, I thought you were the same dog, but nah. Look at how gorgeous you both are!"

"Lighter one is Frank and darker one is Hade," he says from the hallway. The house is blasting heat, which I could die of happiness over.

I nod. "I'm Diramina Turner."

He goes still. "Turner."

"Ah, yeah. What's yours?"

I watch him take his time in shrugging his coat off. Turner's an incredibly common surname, isn't it? Common enough.

"Seems like you got questions?" I prompt, but he just pulls his boots off. "I promise I wouldn't be asking if I didn't need to know. You said yourself you want me out of here as soon-"

"Turner as in Theo Turner."

"Oh- oh. Yeah. My father." His name wasn't released to the public, but of course the people in town saw most everything that day. Was he one of them? He looks way too young.

Ripe swearing, a bit of silence after as he blusters through the house. Hade follows him as Frank sits at my feet.

I remove what I can of my outer layers and follow, shuffling along in the house slippers I'd taken to wearing to bed just in case.

I venture through the dimly lit house to find him again in the kitchen, bent and staring into the fridge.

He looks up at me, lips pressed together. "When you said magic a couple lines back, I didn't know you meant fucking jackass satyrs."

I frown. Dad's technically not a satyr anymore. "I figured the specific characters didn't matter. But if it does, I've got it on both sides."

"And I'm supposed to believe you're human?"

"I'm human. But evidently I'm still getting fucked up by magic users."

He chuckles mirthlessly and leans over the counter, empty-handed for all the searching he did of the fridge.

"Your father fucked up a whole county."

I nod slowly. "I remember."

"The town is a tourist trap now."

"You keep giving me vaguely specific and intriguing information from our shared past and present, but still so little. Where in town did you live? What's your name? Where the fuck are we? Please don't just say 'Homei, my house, my land', just tell me so I can figure out how to leave you alone."

His face has a red cast to it now, and he looks like he might combust. "My name is Terrell Sheffield. I knew your family, they'd remember me as Terry Anand. Lived a couple miles away from site zero."

My heart drops.

"After everything that happened, I saved up my money and I left."

"When did you get here? We all-"

"Were quarantined, yes. Homei is a pocket dimension so it was allowed, even after the second wave of legislation."

"Oh. Did the quarantine restrictions even apply to you? The regulations at Olita were bullshit."

"You're asking if I was affected? No. My whole family just happened to be in the area."

I know my eyes are shiny, but he's too much of an ass for me to cry in front of him. He looks interested in the emotion, and when I turn away to wipe falling, failing tears, I see my hands are see through.

"Worst timing in the world." I breathe out a sad laugh. "Actually should I... is this a good time to show up?"

He... Terrell... watches me fade slowly, and considers. "Better than three in the morning."

I nod. My voice comes out distant to my ears. "I don't know if I can control much of anything, but I'll try."

I left my goddamn sweater in the hallway.

...

"Ma, I found some stuff out from, um... from the place I visit."

She looks over at me, then turns her tablet off.

"Apparently it's a pocket dimension he's kind of exiled to? Or he chose to be there, just because... he's from here. Terrell Sheffield? Or Terry Anand."

She's silent, and I look up from my hands to her face. She's starting to tear up, much like I was when I was standing in his kitchen.

But she can't speak. I see first the frustration, then the exasperation build up between her eyebrows.

"I don't understand why you're hexed, it makes no sense. Terrell blames Dad for all the stuff in Olita, and... I get it. But Grandma had a large part, and she knows I already know this."

"She does." I jump, and turn around to see my father stepping through a small line in the air into the room.

"Shit. I mean hey."

He laughs and kisses the top of my head as he walks over to my mother, sweeping her to her feet to stand sullen against his chest.

"What's going on, ladies? What's wrong, Sandra?"

I sit at the table, not quite stunned but very tired. "Uh... well, Mom's hexed to not talk about this problem I've been having. I assume Sia is too, although I haven't seen her in a few days. But apparently it involves you."

My mother starts to collect herself and kisses my father, sitting back down and breathing deep, probably to get her jaw to relax and unlock. "Hey, sweetheart."

"Me and all the stuff in Olita, huh?"

He opens his arms to me and I grab the silly old man. "I know stuff went down and everything's pretty much... settled. I hate to bring it up again, but for the past month I've been transported to some place called Homei to talk to somebody named Terrell Sheffield. He said you'd know him as Terry Anand. He's from-"

My father goes stiff and I look up. His face turns red and angry, a vein popping out against his forehead with the effort to speak.

"You too?! Daddy please stop trying to break it, you know it's only gonna give you a migraine."

My mother laughs through new tears and pulls out a chair, gesturing my father over.

"Theo this is some bullshit," she hiccups, and he just sits in that chair next to her, fuming.

I truly have no idea what to do. She takes his hand, and I watch him visibly make an effort to relax. He looks up at me, resigned.

"Guess the only one left to talk to about it is her."

...

I make the executive decision to not talk to her about it, which is avoidant, stubborn, and a choice I do not regret. Another three visits pass, each a bit less strenuous and awkward than the last. Mostly due to my new, ungodly seven pm bedtime and Terrell always seeming to be in the barn when I get there. We go over anything that could be a common thread or motivation when he's actively herding, cleaning, or troubleshooting something in the barn. He's not as grumpy as he tries to be, and his smile is quick to come to his face. More often than not I sit and listen to him murmur to the sheep, including me in their conversations when he notices me watching. The last visit lasts almost three hours, and while he's driving me back to the house with him, I vanish right off of the ATV.

Only three days later, I'm back. Wildly unprepared and in my oversized Taco Bell t-shirt, on the floor of the barn.

"The fuck?" I shiver, turning around. It's never been less than two weeks. The sheep bleat, and Remy, as I'd come to call her, calls out a second time, but doesn't make a move to ask me over. I stumble towards the pen but I spot something in the corner. A thick cot a few feet off the floor, and a heavy-looking blanket and pillow piled on top.

Just in case I showed up and he wasn't here? It's... thoughtful. Although maybe he just didn't want me climbing all over his sheep again.

I shuffle over and envelope myself in all the available bedding, and shiver until I'm warm enough to fall dead asleep.

"Don't you miss important stuff in your own life when you're here?"

I crack my eyes open to Terrell standing in one of the open barn doors. I don't know how long I've been here, but I do note the drastic difference between the heat surrounding my body under the blanket and the icy chill of my forehead peeking out into the cold.

"Sleep, mostly. Thanks for the bed."

He strolls in, flanked by the dogs. "This seems to be the official drop site, so yeah." Frank wiggles towards me and Hade struts casually behind him, and I greet them both. I probably won't ask Terrell again, but I'd bet money that they're mixed with Great Pyrenese; I think I see extra dewclaws.

Without too much fuss, he unlocks and flings open the gate to the pen, and the sheep amble out. Remy walks over to me and I sit up to greet her, gasping at the cold air that I somehow immediately forgot was outside of my blanket.

"What happened to all the sweaters and stuff?" Terrell asks, whistling to his dogs to attend to a few stragglers.

"I usually only start wearing warm things when I know it's getting close to time for me to come back."

He stares at me, waiting for an explanation.

"It's only been three days since the last time I saw you. Usually takes a couple of weeks."

He nods, still unsure. "Any news?"

I must make a face, because he mumbles something about how he didn't really care in the first place.

I laugh and shake my head, noting that I still have my bonnet on too, pulled down low over my ears. "I'm about to pull up on the last resort, but it's probably not gonna make things easier... for me. I uh..."

He's pulling up a stool and plopping down on it before I can figure out how I'm going to tell him what I know. "You know we both don't have all day."

He snorts at the irritation in my face after a beat of silence, and I look up to a moderate display of amusement. It makes me smile, and my legs shift under the blanket, my drawstring shorts bunching up at the tops of my thighs.

"Anyway. My father, the jackass satyr, he um... he got into a fight with my grandmother, his mother-in-law, when he went on that weekend bender in Olita. That's what caused the leak of magic in town. It was kind of her doing, because she had to bind up a large part of his magic and send it somewhere. She just kinda sutured everything back together pretty hastily after that, and that's why... all that stuff happened."

"So your family just single-handedly caused nine years of quarantine for an entire district."

"Yeah."

"And you're just human."

I suck my teeth at the dry, unbelieving tone of his voice. "Again, yeah. My mother tested me pretty much every second of my life after all of that."

"Sure. So why are you here."

I fiddle with my hands in my lap. "Every single person I've asked, with the exception of you, is hexed against saying anything about it." I see his eyebrows furrow, and automatically begin to explain. "They all know something, but when they try to speak, write, sign, anything, they're bound."

"Who's orchestrating all that?"

"The only woman I can ask now. My grandmother."

"Spooky. But what is that to you, a death sentence? Just talk to her." He stands from his seat, stretching. "I don't know how long you're gonna be here for today, but I'll bring you back to the house."

Jackass. I take a deep breath and stare at my hands, hoping for any sign of transparency, but I'm solid as a rock.

"Right. Thanks. I was hoping to be gone by now."

He snorts while I kick at my blankets. "Bad company, huh?"

I shoot him a look and ease reluctantly away from the warmth of the cot, swearing at the cold and turning back to respectfully fold the blankets back up. "Fuck. No. I'm just gonna freeze on the way there."

He shuffles away with his stool, putting it back in a shadowy corner of the barn. "Well, when you sleep naked, those are the perils you're faced with."

"Terry, these are regular PJs, I just dressed normal because I didn't expect to be dragged out of my bed a week and a half early."

"Don't call me Terry," he murmurs, shrugging off his coat. "Here."

"Thank you." He waves me out as I bundle into it and sigh quietly at the residual body heat.

I'm still freezing on the ride, shamelessly wrapped around as much of his body as I can manage. As we thunder over the ground, I watch the dogs trotting confidently in the other direction behind the herd, and the herd itself forging ahead to a destination unknown. I've never lived on a farm a day in my life, but I'm pretty sure something's off about that.

Terrell stops the ATV and taps my frozen fingers.

"You too cold to let go?"

I turn my head back. "Sh-shh-sh-"

"Shut the fuck up?" he suggests laughingly as I pry myself off of him. Fucking freezing.

He grabs my hand and almost drags me into the house, and I focus on not stumbling over my own feet.

My eyes water at the blast of heat that hits me.

I shake in the hallway, trying to pull the zipper on the coat down and failing as he pulls his boots off. He looks over at me, shivering teary-eyed in the middle of his foyer, and the amusement creeps onto his face again. "You look like you're having a bad day."

"If I could s-swing on you right now I w-would," I manage as he steps over to help me out of the coat. "An' th-ankss."

The backs of his hands slide down my front as he unzips the coat, and his fingers whisper over my arms as he pulls it off of me. Suddenly one of those many shivers is not from the cold. It freaks me the hell out as soon as I recognize it.

"I'd sit you on the couch but the kitchen's warmest. Go on and I'll find you some clothes."

"Mmhmm."

I'm sleeping in a full-on snow suit from now on, I vow as I shiver at the counter. Footsteps approach and I turn around to have an armful of fabric dumped onto my head. "Real clothes," Terrell mutters, walking over to the fridge. I squirrel into them: flannel pants, a waffle crew neck t-shirt.

I want to say something about not living at twenty degrees below zero, but I fix my face and my tone before I speak again. "Thank you, Terrell."

He looks me over from the open fridge door and nods, and goes back to scanning whatever he's got going on in there.

I lean over the counter, trying not to be nosy about what someone in a pocket dimension eats.

"So... I thought livestock farmers were always doing stuff."

He pulls eggs out of the fridge. "Define 'doing stuff'."

"Uh... weighing lambs, making sure the dogs don't eat anybody... making sure wolves don't drag the weak ones off... fixing the feed troughs or something, I dunno. You seem pretty chill."

He smiles at a joke for the second time I've ever seen, and it makes me happy, even though the next line out of his mouth might be at my expense.

"I live in a magical pocket dimension. Things are a little different."