“We’re going to New York City?” Basil asked with excitement. He nudged his sister before turning to her. “You’ve always wanted to go to New York, right?”

Birdie laughed. “Yeah, I just didn’t think this was why I’d be going.”

“You can go back again,” Basil said. “I’ll even go with you.”

Birdie sighed. “Oh thanks, I guess.”

Birdie didn’t want to give a voice to the thoughts that ran through her head in that moment. She would go back to New York City as a tourist one day if she made it through this ordeal. Birdie turned to Larue, who currently stood near the fire looking out over the Badlands. “Do you know where in Harlem?”

“No,” Larue said with a shake of her head. Some of her dreads had escaped the bun she had slept in. They whipped around every time she moved her head. “We just need to find a door.”

“Why,” Basil asked.

“Our cousin, the self-proclaimed ‘god of the party’, operates a club out of his Fae-gate. If we find a door, then we find the Rose Club.”

“Why don’t we just go directly to Bheka…Bheko…Bhekem,” Birdie trailed off, trying and failing to say her cousin’s name.

“Just call him Uso,” Wakinyan supplied.

“Uso’s realm likes to move itself from time to time, so our best bet is a door,” Larue told Birdie, “and stop it with the silly questions.”

Birdie stared at her cousin. It wasn’t a silly question. It was a perfectly reasonable question. Anger started to boil up from Birdie’s core.

“Can’t we just call for once, like with a phone?” Basil asked with a scrunched-up face.

“I don’t have one,” Wakinyan and Larue said simultaneously. They looked at each other across the dying fire and smirked. Larue had acquired her deep aversion to technology from her father.

“Yeah, but we do,” Birdie said, pointing back to the trailer. “It’s in my bag. The phone’s turned off, but I am pretty sure that it still has a charge.”

Larue made a face, thinking hard for a minute. She did recall a note from the late 30s or 40s which mentioned that the Rose Club had gotten its first telephone. She got up and knelt in front of her bag. Basil, Birdie, and Wakinyan watched as she dug around inside it. Larue was searching for a small leather-bound notebook. For years she had put random notes, reminders, and events. She hadn’t written in it in quite a while, but she always made sure to carry it with her. After two minutes Larue started to grow frustrated. She couldn’t find the notebook. She started flinging clothes, toiletries, and cases out of her bag.

She heard a deep groan behind her, followed by Birdie’s laughter, but didn’t turn around. She searched and dug until she found the notebook tucked into one of the dark corners at the bottom of her bag. Larue grabbed the notebook and stood triumphantly. When she did, she found Wakinyan looking at the twins with a smirk. Apparently, Basil had not been fast enough to avoid one of the cases that she had flung over her shoulder. Blood trickled from both of his nostrils and the bridge of his nose was already starting to bruise. Larue suppressed a laugh. Birdie, however, did not. Birdie was still laughing at her brother, but still instructing Basil to pinch the top of his bloodied nose and lean his head back.

“Sorry,” Larue told him with the straightest face that she could muster. Basil side-eyed her, nose still dripping. Birdie laughed even harder. She fell onto her back and rolled, clutching her stomach. “You’ve got to be quicker than that next time.”

Wakinyan joined in, laughing just as hard as Birdie. The small case had hit Basil with enough force to snap his head back. “She got you good kid!”

Larue could no longer contain her laughter. Her alto voice joined Birdie’s and her father’s. Basil looked at all of them shaking his head. His anger and shock quickly dissipated, and he too joined in. It was kind of funny. Basil’s laugh was just as warm as everyone else. Thanks to Larue and Wakinyan’s magic, he was able to hear laughter – both his own and his family’s – for the first time. They all sounded so different, yet so similar. He loved how Wakinyan’s laugh was like a low rumble. His sister’s light and dancing. Her laugh reminded him of the way a butterfly moved, carried by the wind but also in control. Larue’s laugh was just like her speaking voice: warm and lovely.

“I think you broke my nose,” Basil laughed.

“Do you want me to fix it?” Larue asked. “Some people find a crooked nose to be dashing.”

Basil’s nose was starting to throb. He wasn’t the biggest fan of pain, so he nodded. “Please.”

“Stop pinching your nose,” Larue instructed. Basil removed his hand and blood started to flow more freely. Larue whipped her index finger quickly in a counterclockwise circle. The cartilage in Basil’s nose snapped back together with a loud crack. Basil yelled out again and clutched his face. That had hurt almost as much as the original break.

“What did you do to him,” Birdie asked in shock.

“Nothing really,” Larue said with a shrug, “I just reset his nose.”

Larue tossed her notebook to Birdie. “There’s a number in there for Takoda, find it.”

After giving Birdie her notebook, Larue started to collect the things she had thrown earlier and putting them back in her bag. Larue went inside Wakinyan’s trailer once her bag was packed. She grabbed a towel and ice, then rooted though Birdie’s bag until she found the cell phone. Larue picked it up gingerly, holding it between her thumb and index finger lightly. Her fingers burned where they touched the phone. Larue came back outside, ignoring the smell of her burning fingers. She passed the towel and ice to Basil who nodded in thanks and began to ice his nose. Larue gave Birdie the phone before sitting down.

“Did you find it?” Larue asked, digging through her bag again. She pulled out one of the many containers of dust inside and stuck her burning fingers inside. When she pulled them out they rapidly began to heal.

“Yes,” Birdie said with a nod, “but the entry is from 1937, there is no way he’d still have the same number.”

Larue just stared at her, one eyebrow arched high. Birdie conceded, putting her hands up. Larue returned her gaze to her fingers to ensure that they had properly healed. It was as if they had never been burned. The only indication that she had been injured was the slightly pink tinge to her fingertips. Birdie turned on her phone and found that it had a small charge of nineteen percent.

“Do you want me to call? I don’t exactly know Takoda,” Birdie inquired while typing out a quick message to her mother. She doubted that her mom would see the message, let alone answer, but she sent it anyway.

“I’ll to it,” Wakinyan said, holding out his hand. Birdie threw it to him before rattling off the set of numbers from Larue’s notebook. Wakinyan slowly punched them in before looking at all three of them. He shooed them away as the dial tone rang.

“Go get dressed,” he told them.

****

The phone continued to ring as Wakinyan stared into the dying fire. The longer it rang, the more nervous Wakinyan became. He had not seen his brother since the late 60s and, aside from the message he had sent earlier that week, he had not spoken to Takoda. The dial tone clicked as the embers crackled. There was a pause before a deep voice much like Wakinyan’s own spoke.

“Hello, Cayuga Bait and Tackle, Tank speaking,” Takoda said, leaning back in his chair behind the counter. For a minute there was no response, just breathing. Takoda thought for a minute that some neighborhood kid was prank calling again. “Hello?”

There was silence again. Wakinyan sat listening his brother breath. Even the rhythm of the air entering and leaving Takoda’s body was familiar. Takoda’s long sigh could be heard through the phone. “Listen, I’m going to hang up in ten seconds…”

“Wait,” Wakinyan started. “Brother.”

Takoda paused. Something had to be serious for Wakinyan to actually call him. Takoda’s brow furrowed. “Wakinyan?”

“Yeah, sorry for the…surprise call,” Wakinyan said. He wasn’t sure how to continue, but he was sure that this conversation would be as awkward for Takoda as it was for him. “I found way.”

“A way for what?” Takoda questioned.

“To get it back. To force Wankan Tanka to give it back,” Wakinyan answered, picking up a sick and poking the embers in the fire pit.

Takoda scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“No really,” Wakinyan continued. “Mapiya’s got two kids now, but something tells me you knew that because you two were always close.”

“And?” Takoda asked, not yet following.

“With Larue and your son, that makes four Thunderbirds brother,” Wakinyan told him, “They can go to Wankan Tanka.”

“Oh,” Takoda replied, sinking deeper into his chair. There was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. “They’ve agreed to this?”

“Larue and the twins have,” Wakinyan responded. “We need your help with Uso though.”

Takoda let out a laugh. “I wouldn’t be able to help. That boy doesn’t listen to me. He doesn’t even call me back. You’d have better luck getting me to convince wasichu to leave.”

Wakinyan smirked. “Hey, at least you have his number. This is the first time I’ve spoken to Larue in nearly two hundred years.”

“Yeah, that girl can hold a grudge,” Takoda said.

Wakinyan shook his head. “You’re telling me.”

“Anyway,” Wakinyan continued. “I don’t need you to convince the boy. We just need his number. Larue will convince him.”

“Okay,” Takoda said before rattling of a number. Wakinyan used the stick he’d been poking the embers with to scratch the number into the ground beneath him.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Call sometime, okay?” Takoda requested. He led a lonely life in the absence of his beloved and his son.

“Yeah, I will,” Wakinyan said with a nod.

“You better,” Takoda replied before hanging up.

Wakinyan stayed in his seat for a while, contemplating both his conversation and future events. Sometime later the screen door swung open and Laure came out. She came to his side and place a hand on his shoulder. Wakinyan sighed and handed her the phone before getting up. He started walking back to the trailer.

“Call your cousin, I’m done talking today.”