UNDERCOVER
2
UNDERCOVER
Kat Gregory stared at the entrance to the Quinault Ranger Station, not wanting to go in. Something had stopped her. The rain had tapered off, so she wasn’t getting soaked.
She hadn’t been north to see her dad at the station for a few weeks now, and that was fine with her. She wished she got along better with him. Her mom had left him unexpectedly last month, sending divorce papers in the mail from God knew where, and he’d become moody and standoffish, burying himself into his work for the Forest Service. He’d practically disowned her, but at the same time, he didn’t begrudge her a place to stay when needed.
Kat had moved out years earlier, but recently the starving artist shtick had forced her to give up her apartment and divide her time between her best friend Serena Ralston’s couch in Aberdeen and her dad’s place—not his house on the North Shore, but on a cot in the ranger station when he worked long shifts.
To help Serena out with costs, Kat sang at Duffy’s Tavern on Main Street, a dive bar that boasted music by local bands. She wasn’t in a band herself, but she’d sing some evenings. She gave a split of her earnings to Rand Mills, who played electric guitar with Deluge, one of Aberdeen’s most popular bands. He played acoustic guitar for her, though, while she sang solo at the mike. Rand didn’t mind the extra work, and he said he loved her voice.
People always said that. She didn’t expect any big breaks though, not any time soon. Deluge had their own vocalist and they’d never asked her to join them.
“Come on,” Serena said earlier that evening as they sat in the bar. “You’re a natural talent. Your sound is so—”
“Don’t say it.”
“—magical. You’ll be hitting the big time before you know it.”
Kat sighed, suddenly very tired. She always felt that way when anyone complimented her. What use was a magical voice in a sleepy place like this? “No one will hear me out here. In Aberdeen? Nothing good’s come out of Aberdeen music-wise since Kurt Cobain.”
“Harsh.”
Kat had just come off stage, her last set completed at 7:00 p.m. on a slow weekday evening at Duffy’s. She sat at one of the rickety tables, her backpack on the chair across from her, Serena on her left. Serena had ordered her a coffee, and it steamed on the table next to her. In ten minutes, Kat would grab the bus to Quinault and try and nap during the hour-long ride.
Rand swung by the table and stopped to give her a quick hug. “Lovely as ever,” he said.
She wondered if he meant her or the music, but she didn’t ask.
Then he waved and was gone. Rand moved quickly. He didn’t stay in one place long. Sounded familiar. Her mother had travelled all over the country before settling down with her dad. That didn’t last, and now she was gone. Kat bussed between the remaining landmarks in her life, an hour at a time. At least her dad mostly stayed put.
“Rand likes you,” Serena said.
“He likes the way I sing.”
“Sure. But he also loves the way you dance. You know. On nights when Deluge plays, and you’ve had a few drinks, and you’ve got your skinny self out on the dance floor, all that black hair whirling around you.” Serena fanned herself, as if aroused. “Even I get pulled into what you’re doing. You really lose yourself.”
Kat did lose herself when dancing. The singing, too. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t had much luck in the business outside this solo gig at Duffy’s. Too centered on her own problems. Too much time trying to escape them in the best way she knew.
“Oh shit,” Serena said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kat looked back at her. “What?”
“That guy—that mossy guy—is here again.” She flicked her eyes left.
Kat squinted that way, past the chair with her backpack. There he was, at another table, looking in her direction, almost shyly, his face nearly obscured in the semi-dark room because the brim of his green Olympic Rainforest baseball cap was tugged down low over his eyes. She’d seen him in Duffy’s before. More than once.
He offered a faint smile.
Kat glanced away, then frowned at Serena. “Um. Mossy?” she asked.
Serena shrugged. “Looks soft. Seems strange. Hangs around in dark places. Not sure whether you should touch or not.”
“Please.”
“He might be on drugs.”
Kat laughed. “You say that about every stranger.”
“Every stranger who looks mossy.” She leaned closer to Kat. “Maybe Allie knows him. A client maybe.”
“Allie doesn’t peddle drugs.”
“That you know about. When has Allie told you anything remotely plausible about her weird shit? I love her, but she puts out some strange vibes.”
“Because she’s a psychic.”
“Well, that’s what she advertises anyway. It might be a front.”
Kat rolled her eyes for Serena’s benefit, but Kat knew Allie did have something else going on besides the psychic gig. Allie had told her of an untapped power several weeks back.
“Something is holding you back,” Allie had told her months ago. Allie was relatively young for having so much knowledge about the world—early forties, maybe—and psychic power, whether just advertised or real, still gave her a perceived wisdom Kat felt she could never achieve on her own.
“I don’t know what it is.” Kat told Allie that but thought of her broken family.
“You must practice what I’ve shown you. Find your song. Where is it, Kat? Why is it so mute?” She tapped Kat’s chest. “It’s in here and you won’t let it out.”
“I sing every few nights,” Kat said.
“Not your song. You’re covering it up with all this other noise.”
“Noise—?”
Allie taught Kat ways to find it. She’d hated Serena using the word magical, but that was exactly what it was. A song was akin to passion. If you manipulated the song? If you found the correct intervals and the proper order? All Kat needed was the way to express it.
Allie had some options.
She offered some magicked drugs, but she warned of severe side effects and possible consequences if she abused them. Kat said no way. She’d seen her own mother fight with addiction. Plus, she had a hard time believing in magically synthesized drugs.
The other option didn’t seem likely either, which, according to Allie, meant using her body as a focus to find her song, joining with a willing participant.
“You mean, sex?” she asked Allie.
“Yes. As a focus.” Allie smiled. “It has been done. You can create wonderful things—change things—with the power of a telos.”
“Telos?”
“I will teach you.”
And so, without telling Serena, Kat had visited Allie many times to learn this option. She felt the need to do so. She was Allie’s student, and there was more to learn. She needed to find her song.
Here at Duffy’s, letting her coffee grow cold, the bus soon to arrive, Kat didn’t think she’d ever hear it. Not as long as she slid back and forth from Aberdeen to Quinault. She was like a pendulum, wound up, but unable to find the center.
She chanced another look across the room. Moss Man was still at his table, but he stared at Duffy’s menu in front of him. She could only see the top of his cap.
“Listen,” Serena said, “he’s here two or three times a week. I’ve only seen him in here when you’re performing.”
“Oh, come on.”
“He’s checking you out, that’s what he’s doing.”
“Not necessarily a bad thing.” She harkened back to Allie’s option. No. Not this guy. Not as her willing participant, even if she ever found herself ready.
“Maybe not.” Serena grabbed Kat’s forearm. “Oh! Maybe he’s undercover.”
“A cop?”
“A scout. A music scout.”
Kat scoffed. “Please.”
He was looking at her again. Smiling. Serena was right about something being off with him. She glared until he shrugged and studied the menu some more.
“Maybe he’s just hungry,” Serena said.
Kat waved it off. “Hey, c’mon. Walk me to the bus stop.”
They left Duffy’s, and luckily the Moss Man didn’t follow. At the bus stop, a block away, the rain came down hard, and neither of them had an umbrella. Serena pulled them under cover, huddling against the plexiglass of a transit kiosk, and there they waited until the bus arrived. Kat gave Serena a hug, promised she’d text her later, and clambered on.
Now, in front of the ranger station, the rain had lessened, just a light drizzle that misted in the lights of the parking lot. Something seemed wrong. Something seemed off. It had nothing to do with the dread of seeing her dad, or wishing her mom was around. It wasn’t even about the creepy guy at Duffy’s. Something was—
She looked up.
Up into the drizzle.
—calling her.
That couldn’t be right. As soon as she thought it, she was suddenly certain that, as strange as the feeling was, it was in fact not a calling. It was—
An echo.
Her body tingled, and goosebumps ran up and down her body. Not from the chill of the rain, but from the almost palpable sense she had of being somewhere else. Out there, outside herself. As if she’d heard an echo of her own voice.
The rain picked up.
The echo was no longer an echo, but a strong voice.
“Kat!”
Kat blinked and saw her dad at the door of the ranger station. She did a weak wave and shuffled over to him. He gave her a hug, but she kept space between them. She turned her head to the side and saw his nametag—Andy Gregory, Olympic National Forest—and the US Forest Service patch on his sleeve.
“Come on, for heaven’s sake,” he said. “You’re cold. You’ll catch your death out here.”
Kat always thought that a strange saying. Maybe she was a bit chilly, but she wouldn’t catch death. It was spring, after all. The rains would slow down, and those who worked around the lake would prepare for the upcoming tourist season.
Her dad turned to the door, and they went in. Her cot awaited.