The girl in the mirror wasn’t a mother.She was dangerous, volatile, andonly goodforbeating the shit out ofdemons. Not for nurturing children.I didn’tcare what mygran said.
9
Krystanseemed more like herself when she came backdown,andI washonestlygrateful shewas here now. Noah and Sophie were arguing over what they should watch on the little 1950s television set Mrs.Ritskept in the living room.I had zero ability to settle them down, instead they got louder and more emphatic, waving their handsuntilboth were red in the face.
Sophie had devolved into a high pitch scream, while Noah tried to shout over her that she was being a brat. I covered my ears against Sophie’s ear-splitting cry.
Krystangot to the bottom of the stairs, her face twisted up in pain against the onslaught of noise.
She pausedthoughtfully,then strode into the middle of the room and let loose her own booming scream as she waved her fists up and down.
The kids immediately stopped their cries and turned to look at her in surprise.
Krystanopened her eyes and said, “What, are we not trying to see who can be the loudest,andmost obnoxious?” She propped her hand on a cocked hip and smirked. “I win.”
Sophie began to tear up. “I want to watch the movie with the doll.”
Noah rolled his eyes and said, “Sophie, you don’t want to watch that movie.”
Finally,I gotmymomentto interject. “He’s right, Sophie. That movie is not a nice thing for littlekidsto watch.”
Krystanthrew me a questioning glance.
“Chucky,” I explained with a shrug.
Her mouth dropped into an ‘o’ and she nodded.
“I’m not a baby,” Sophie pouted. “I’m a big kid.”
“How about we skip themovieandfigure out a way to get you guys home,”Krystansaid.
I jumped up. “I second that.”
Sophie and Noah shared a look. “We don’t want to go home,” Noah said.
“Yeah, we came to help fight the monsters,” Sophie said in a whine.
Krystan threw up her hands. “We are the absolute last two people who should be watching kids, soit'stime for you to go. You can fight the monsters under your bed at home.”
Something about the emphatic wayKrystansaid we were the worst grated against me.We weren’t murderers or rapists. These kids could do a lot worse than us.
Sophie instantly burst into tears. Noah looked down at the ground, his face becoming red and puckered with anger and disappointment.
Crap. This was going to end up in another screaming session. If I was going to lose hearing, it was damn well going to be because I listened to Metallica at ungodly volumes.
“Everybody chill,” I said. “You guys can sit and watch.” I grabbed the remote and switched it to a sitcom. “AndKrystanand I will figure out what to get for dinner.”
Krystan’sface twisted in displeasure while the kids seemed to instantly deflate of theirnear-bursting emotions.Her mouth opened, prepared toargue with me, but I grabbed her arm and dragged her into the kitchen.
“Travis, we can’t keep them, they aren’t pets,” she hissed.
“I know,” I said, going over to the two backpacks layingagainstthe wall in the kitchen. I handed her Noah’s interstellar backpack while putting Sophie’s pony bag on the kitchen island. “Maybe they lied about havingphones. Ormaybe there isan address written in their backpack or something that will help us go over their small, disagreeable heads so we can get them home.”
Krystanbroke into a grin. “I take it back stoner-boy, you are a genius.”
“I haven’t even hit a bong in like five months,” I mumbled under my breath.
“And aren’t you just growing up so fast?” she mocked in a baby voice.
