[Part 12: Decent]

Chapter 138: A Matter of Pride

Things kicked off the second I opened my eyes. I found myself groggy, my eyes practically glued shut in Janet’s bed, only fully clawing up to consciousness the lights clicked on. “Uuuuuugh,” I moaned and whined. “Five more minutes! Hit the snooze.” My mind and memory hadn’t fully caught up with my mouth. I didn’t know what day it was, nevermind all the awful from the night before.

“Good morning,” Janet said, sounding tired herself.

“Five more minutes,” I said, more loudly in case she hadn’t heard.

“I’ve already let you sleep in, baby,” she said. There was something else in there, too. Sadness. Deep painful sadness like a blister that just wouldn’t heal. “It’s time to get up.”

An ocean of bedsheets cascaded away from me, leaving me cold and exposed. My usual morning upward into Janet’s arms was cut short, leaving me dangling by the armpits. My brain registered something clammy and wet seeping down the backs of my thighs. “Dang,” she muttered. “You leaked.”

Back over my shoulder were two tiny patches of wet spots on the beige sheets, shaped like crescent moons.

“I’m sorry!” I whimpered. “I didn’t mean-”

Even her sigh was melancholy. “It’s okay,” she shushed me. “It’s not your fault. I was in such a rush to get you to bed that I put you in a regular diaper instead of a nighttime one. It’s my fault.”
Me still dangling, we hotfooted it across the house to my nursery. “My fault…” she whispered again. I don’t even know if she meant for me to hear it.

The change was quick, efficient and clearly rushed. She didn’t hum. She didn’t smile. She didn’t sing. I wished she would’ve sung. “No time for breastfeeding,” she said after the last tape was stuck on, blinding the cartoon monkey. “If you want your morning milk you’ll have to get it out of the bottle or do without.”

“Okay…” I said without complaint. “I understand…”

It wasn’t a surprise when she took out a onesie pulled it over my head. No shock that it was bright white with navy blue piping and red tassels. The ol’ sailor onesie. I didn’t even merit the full suit today; just the onesie. No one would mistake me as a free Little this morning, even from a distance.

A predictable response given what I’d last worn. Was it ‘typical’ Amazon behavior if I not only understood it but also empathized with it as well? Did I have that right to be upset or annoyed if I felt I deserved it?

“Weather’s warm enough this morning,” Janet explained when she finished snapping me up and didn’t go for anything to cover my legs. “Won’t get cold again until later tonight.”

Cold.

Yes, cold. This was the night after Mark all over again. Except it wasn’t. Janet wasn’t distant and guarded. She was hurting. I’d hurt her and I was feeling that awkward pain with every pregnant pause. When she’d been angry with me it had been like she was yelling at me in silence. This was more like she was sobbing.

My Mommy wasn’t done dressing me for the day. With no preamble, whatsoever, Janet put stiff locking mittens over my hands. They were the same ones that came home with me my first week back at Oakshire. I thought she’d given them back to Sosa. Turns out I was wrong.

Flabbergasted, I stared at the pastel nubs hands had been turned into. “Why?”

Janet picked me up and put me back in my crib. “I need to put my sheets in the washing machine. I’ll be right back.”

I held up the mittens. “No. Why?”

Her lips pursed in retreated inside her mouth. Her nostrils flared as she tried to control her breathing. “Because I can’t trust you right now.”

‘Can’t’. Not ‘don’t’. ‘Can’t’. She no longer had the ability to trust me. Trust had been broken like legs and these mittens were its casts. That was an absolute punch in the throat. That hurt. That hurt more than a thousand spanks from Ambrose.

“Mommy!” The whining mewling pathetic cry came out of me almost out of reflex. I wanted comfort, I wanted affirmation and consideration. I wanted her to not be mad at me for the stupid thing I did.

Janet stopped walking and looked back at me. She stared for a second and then shut her eyes. “Clark. Don’t. Not now.” Her eyes looked glassy when she opened them back up.

She left me there in my crib, and I flopped back on my bum. Habit and reflex had me reach out for the bars to guide my fall, but the mittens made my hands useless.

I’d fucked up. I’d so fucked up. Again. I wanted to cry and burst out and howl at the moon. I didn’t deserve that kind of catharsis. I hadn’t earned it so I stopped myself.

In the quiet of the morning, I heard a metal lid opene and slam shut. I heard the click and hum and slushing sound of a washing machine coming to life. Janet came back in with my diaper bag in tow and lifted me out of the crib.

“Janet, I-!” I tried to apologize.

“Mm-mm,” she cut me off. “I still love you but I am very upset with you and I have a right to those feelings. And I need to process them and deal with them before I deal with you. Do you understand?”

I did. I did too well. I’d become just another problem on her checklist. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Any questions?”

I feebly held up my entombed hands. “These?”

“You’ll get those off if your teacher or another Grown-up decides to take them off,” Janet said politely but curtly. “But I’m not leaving you unsupervised without them on.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I guess I deserve that.”

“Yup.” Her lip popped the final /p/ sound. “Don’t worry, you should still be able to drink your milk in the car.”

I knew better than to ask after the tablet. Janet wasn’t stupid. Even if she couldn’t crack the secret password, she’d have to suspect that I’d used it to orchestrate my own kidnapping. Failing that, losing access was an easy punishment. Just thinking about it made me want to dig my fingers into something soft and plushy and imagine ripping it apart in gory cottony viscera. Knuckles tensed and itched and flexed inside their tombs. It’s amazing how much you take your fingers for granted until you can’t use them. “And Lion?”

“I left Lion in the car last night. He’s waiting for you.”

We got into the car and looked to my side. As promised, Lion was waiting for me, his gaze unblinking and judgemental. No. ‘Judgemental’ was too harsh. Pitying was more like it. I didn’t even have the energy to scowl at him.

Nevermind the milk. I was going to need to keep my wits about me. Today was going to be a long day.

*******************************************************************************************************

Beouf rose up from her desk the second Janet walked in with me, pushing herself to her feet with both hands and motoring over to us. From the way she marched up to us, I thought she was about to slap the taste out of my mouth. What she ended up doing was worse..

“You! Little! Idiot!” she half-shouted. She reached out and yanked me away from Janet; kissing me and berating me at the same time. “Don’t you ever, MWAH, try anything, MWAH, that stupid, MWAH, ever, MWAH, again! Do you understand me?!”

My face ended up pushed right above her bosom, smothering and muffling my pathetic, “Yes, ma’am.”

It seemed Janet had been busy last night and this morning.

“Do you know what could have happened to you?” Beouf asked.

“Mrs. Beouf…” Janet said meekly.

Beouf was holding me so tightly I couldn’t move and could barely breathe. Her big sloppy kisses replaced with little pecks on the top of my head. “Do you know what might still happen to you? Or your Mommy?”

“Mrs. Beouf…”

“Just because you’re a baby now doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences. You only get so many free passes. Do you know what protective services think when a Little runs away from home? Once might be them being naughty, but any more than that and bad things can happen!”

“Mrs…”

“Seriously, never, ever, ever, ever, ever, do that again! Don’t even think about it!”

“Beouf…”

“I would rather you scream and brat for the rest of the school year,” Beouf rambled.

“Mrs. B….”

“I’d rather you needle me, cuss me out, and tell me you hate me over and over until I cry-”

“Please…”

“-or swallow cinnamon and barf in front of the whole school-”

“Sto-”

“-or punch a teacher in the nose every day-”

“Mel…”

“-than to have something like what almost happened happen ever again!”

“Melony!”

Beouf startled as if from a dream. “Huh?”

Janet looked like something had damn near drained the life out of her. “Please. Not right now.”

Beouf loosened her grip and put me on her hip. “Got it. Sorry.”

My Mommy sniffed. “It’s okay.”

“What did Clark do?” a voice way below me asked. I looked down and saw Ivy Zoge staring up at me, her own face a mish-mash of worry, anger, and heartbreak.

“Clark made some very bad decisions last night,” her mother shushed her.

“You lied, didn’t you?” Ivy asked me, unblinking.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I did.” I whipped my head up and looked at Mrs. Zoge. “Ivy didn’t have anything to do with it!” I quickly promised. “She only suspected.”

“I am aware, Clark,” Zoge said. “Thank you for telling me.” Even Zoge’s normally calm yet musical tone sounded more like a dirge to my ears that morning.

I looked back down at Ivy. She’d stopped looking at me and was shaking her head to herself, muttering. “Most disappointing. Most disappointing.” She actually sounded like her mother there.

“Hey,” Beouf said. “It’s Friday. The weekend is almost here. Today’s gonna be rough, but we’ll get through this.” I couldn’t tell who Beouf was speaking to when she said that. She rubbed my back and bobbed me slightly, but her shoulders squared neatly with Janet. Perhaps she was talking to both of us and was doing her best to navigate from the middle.

“I know,” Janet sighed. Without realizing it, I was nodding along, too.

The back door slammed open. Like a burst of wind Jessica was through it and on Janet. “Janet, I am so sorry I had no idea that could happen!” She gripped my Mommy by the shoulders. “I am writing so many letters tonight and every day until they put a recall on that death trap of a stroller! That thing needs a major failsafe! The technology shouldn't be able to be abused that way!”


Janet bowed her head, looking oddly ashamed. “Yeah,” she said. “I know.”

“And as for you, mister!” Jessica was up in my face before I knew it, jabbing her finger right in my face like an angry crow going for my eyes. “How dare you-!”

“Jessica,” Janet stopped her. “No. Just…no. Leave him alone.”

The other Amazon froze mid tirade. “Right,” Jessica said. “Sorry.” She snorted like a bull at me. “I am very disappointed-”

“Jess.”

“Right. Sorry.”

I unclenched muscles I didn’t know I even had. Jessica? Visibly angry? At me? The world really had gone upside down. At the same time, it was a relief and joy to be yelled at like I was capable of understanding.

The yelling stopped as Tracy slinked in behind Jessica. She strode in casually enough, but there was calculation and practiced confidence in every step, not unlike when Ambrose was still around. Only this time, that calm professional placidity was aimed at Janet. “Good morning, gang.” she chirped. “Ready to go up and check in?”

Janet brushed past Beouf and stepped up to the Tweener. “Before we do, I’d like to return something.” She opened my diaper bag and rooted around. Stupidly, I feared for a second she was giving Lion away. His maned head popped up as soon as she unzipped the top and I fantasized the worst. More predictably, she rooted around a second and removed the tablet. “Thank you for the gift, Miss Tracy, but I don’t think it’s developmentally appropriate for Clark.”

Tracy gave a sad, shallow smile. “I understand.” She took the tablet, and averted her eyes in submission. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“It’s not your fault,” Janet said, frowning in concern. Tracy tensed, as if waiting for further rebuke. Janet forced a smile and spoke softly. “It was a thoughtful gift. I’d have made the same mistake if you hadn’t.”

Both myself and my Tweener friend relaxed. Tracy wasn’t being blamed or suspected of anything beyond giving me the hardware. No reprisals or accusations of conspiracy or latent Maturosis. “I’ll go put this in a drawer somewhere and catch up,”

“Good idea.” The two parted ways with Tracy scampering back to her classroom and Janet leading the way towards the front. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Three Amazons started heading for the door. It was when I crossed the threshold with them that the dots finally connected in my head. There’d been no move or attempt to put me down on the ground. I hadn’t walked a step today. I didn’t even have shoes.

“You’re sticking with me today, bubba,” Beouf clucked. “Like glue.”

I’d suddenly been demoted as low as Chaz. Maybe lower. I could still technically walk, for what good it did and I couldn’t use my hands. “How is that fair?” I demanded, my outrage outpacing my self-flagellation.

“I’m not arguing with you,” Beouf replied. “This is what’s happening today.”

The aftermath of my rescue was looking just a little bit worse.. “Just today?”

“We’ll see.”
******************************************************************************************************

“What’d you do, Gibson?” Billy asked, eyeing my new hand accessories. Everyone had noticed right away that I was being carried instead of walking at the bus loop. Questions could only be suppressed for so long though, and it turns out that if you treat grown people like toddlers they develop the patience of toddlers. That the silence lasted until we were all seated at breakfast was an accomplishment.

I opened my mouth for a spoonful of soggy cereal, chewed and swallowed. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Annie took a hearty bite of a franz toast stick and poured syrup into her mouth. “Do you think he was playing with himself?”

I couldn’t tell if the eating with her hands was meant to get on my nerves. Bringing up masturbation definitely was.. “Pot, kettle, black, plushie humper.”

“Children…” Beouf warned. “That’s inappropriate.”

“Yes, Mrs. B,” we said in unison.

I was given another bite. You could tell it was near the end of the kitchen’s month because of the variety offered. Tiny pancakes, waffles, mozzarella sticks, granola bars, and grilled cheese sandwiches were supped on throughout the cafeteria. Everything that didn’t get dethawed and served since the last shipment was getting dethawed and served now.

Everyone else in my class was eating with their hands. I was the only one left without a choice and meriting extra special attention from Beouf. I deserved it, I supposed. Still…

“Where are Mandy and Chaz?” I asked. The bus had been two short this morning.

“Not here I guess.” Beouf spooned another bit of cereal into my mouth.

I searched her face, letting the worry show on mine. They’d also read their letters. “Will they be back on Monday?”

“I don’t-...” she looked up from the bowl and caught my eye. “Ooooh! No. No. They’re fine. Nothing like that.”

Billy peeled a section of mozzarella like he was plucking the wings off a butterfly. “What happened to them, yesterday?”

“They didn’t feel well,” Beouf bristled. She caught herself and replied more kindly. “I’ll check on them during Circle Time.”

“So what did you do to get the mittens?” Annie went on offense. “For real?”

“I’ll tell you later,” I said.

“Clark…” Beoiuf warned me.

The petulant, angry, stupid side of me bubbled slightly beneath the surface. Beouf didn’t want me talking about the letters. Fine. Whatever. Janet didn’t want to talk about last night either. Also fine. That was her right. But why couldn’t I talk about it?

“I tried to make a bomb out of a bottle of baby powder,” I quipped. “Used a dried out baby wipe as the fuse.”

Billy and Annie gawked, incredulous. No clue to whether to believe me or not.

“He’s lying,” Beouf spoiled my fun. She gave me an extra large mouthful to shut me up. The cereal had lost most of its crunch but retained the sugary flavor.

I gulped half of it down and shoved the rest of the grainy flakes to one side of my mouth. “Fine,” I said. “I poisoned my babysitter with training chocolate. Now she needs diapers too. Happy?”

My compatriots giggled, now in on the joke.

Melony was not amused. “Clark…”

I finished swallowing and glared indignantly. “If you’re not gonna let me tell the truth, at least let me lie!”

She took the bowl away and wrinkled her nose. “Okay,” she said in a way that let me know she wasn’t. “Fine. Just make a good choice. Certain things shouldn’t be discussed.”

Ah. Beginning and middle were okay. The end, not so much. Good. I hated the end.

I lowered my head and turned as much as I could so that the neighboring table wouldn’t be able to hear me. “I put on a Grown-up costume, stole my Mommy’s keys and hijacked my remote control stroller. Made it almost two miles before they found me with the tracker app.”

Nothing I said was a lie, but it was hardly a how-to guide or an abduction. I purposefully left out mention of the tablet or my communications with Socko so as not to incriminate myself.

Beouf grabbed a bottle of milk from the serving cart and handed it over to me. Through the mittens and my own distraction, it was hard to tell that the bottle wasn’t the usual cheap machine washable plastic bottles that the school supplied.

As soon as the milk squirted out, I realized that this wasn’t one of the bottles from the cafeteria. Nor was its contents from a carton. Despite myself I started glugging down the stuff greedily. It was still going to be a long day, but why not make it go by a little faster?

“Badass!” Billy grinned over at me. “You made it two miles?” Beouf shot him a warning look which he ignored. “What? It is badass!”

Beouf pushed her glasses back up her nose. “You better hope you don’t have a messy diaper,” she said. “Because you’re getting changed last, mister.”

Billy shrugged. “All due respect, Mrs. B. Worth it.”

Annie narrowed her gaze at my bottle. “What kind of milk is that?”

Beouf gave her own nonchalant gesture. “A present from his Mommy.”

“GIBSON’S DRINKING BREAST MILK?!”

That was definitively less badass than the breakout attempt. Giggles erupted out, and not just from the next Littles’ table. The whole cafeteria heard it.

Whether by shock or by intent, a spray not goat’s milk issued forth from me, misting Melony Beouf’s glasses leaving dark droplet stains all along the neckline of her shirt.

“Oops.” I didn’t even know if I meant it or not.
**********************************************************************************

I sat plopped on the naughty stool of Beouf’s room, now moved from beside her desk. Beouf paced back and forth like she was a detective interrogating a suspect. I planted myself defiantly ready to take her on.

It was just after school. The buses hadn’t all left. Yet we were alone, she and I, stuck in a battle of wills, once again. Zoge and the others had joined up with Jessica, Tracy, and the preschoolers and traveled as one big herd to make sure that everyone got home safely for the weekend.

The chaos I’d rained down that one day could practically fill a book until Beouf plopped me down on the stool. It was like day one all over again.


We should be drinking coffee right now, enjoying the quiet after a hectic day together putting on airs.I shouldn’t even be here.

“What the heck has gotten into you, today?” Beouf asked for the umpteenth time.

“What the heck happened to me being allowed to brat and poke you until you cried?” I retorted. “Or is that another thing that’s not appropriate for school? Just something you say that I have to keep to myself?”

“I didn’t want you to talk about something traumatic that had just happened to you!” She half-shrieked.

“Or walk.” I spat back. “Or feed myself.”

“Your Mommy dressed you like this! What? Did you want me to let you walk around barefoot on the cement?” She gestured to my gloves. “Do you really blame me for not trusting with your hands right now?”

“You trust me with your secrets,” I growled. “Or do you want the rest of the class to know that their families all hate them, too?”

Her lips moved but nothing came out for a second. She was whispering to herself before she got the courage to say it out loud. “You’re quiet, then you’re loud. You’re serious then you’re a joker. You’re polite then you’re bratty. You beg me to potty train you, then you change your mind. You’re contrite and scared, then you show your ass all day. You act so different when there are other kids around.”

“I’M NOT A CHILD!” I screamed, still seated. “MATUROSIS ISN’T REAL, MELONY!”

She pulled out a tiny student chair and hunkered down across from me. “After today, you’re not making a strong argument, sir.”

I wasn’t, but that wasn’t the objective. Feeling angry was just easier for me than feeling sad. Poking the bear was easier than unaccepted apologies. Butting heads with Beouf like it was day one all over again was preferable to whatever I was going to have to face when I got home with Janet.

“When are you going to tell them?” I asked again. “Or are you just going to hope they forget?”

“That’s none of your-”

The door opened. An absolutely exhausted Janet dragged herself in, carrying my diaper bag and with a stack of papers tucked under one arm. She looked terrible. Brollish levels of terrible. Had she even slept last night? Or did she just stay up the entire time, watching me?

“Jessica told me,” Janet said. She jerked her head. “Come on, Clark.” I got up, robotically, a corpse shambling to life.

Beouf stood up and made for the door. “Janet, I am so sorry about this, it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” Janet said.

“Yes it is,” Beouf said.

“He asked for the outfit and cart before yesterday,” Janet reminded her. I walked over to her and stood beside her. “Those letters didn’t do anything. He’s been planning this for a bit.” At least they were talking about me in front of me instead of behind my back.

“What if they got him to pull the trigger?” Beouf asked, her composure fading fast. “What if reading it was the final decider.”

“It wasn’t,” Janet said with automaticity, not even thinking.

“Are you sure? This isn’t in any of the research.” My escape attempt had done more than scare her. It had made her question herself; practically question her faith. “What if-”

“I was going to try and run last night anyways,” I interrupted. “The letter just made me feel bad. That’s all. I left because I needed to.”

Both giantesses stared down at me as if I were an actual infant speaking his first words. Nothing was left to distract me. There was no reason to fight. There hadn’t been before, actually.

“Why did you need to run away?” Janet asked, the first spark of something besides hurt. “Was it something I did? Something I said? Did I do something to hurt you?”

I opened my mouth to talk, but the words wouldn’t come. I looked at my bare feet and shook my head, no.

“Was it something another Little said or did?” Beouf asked, the day’s fighting suddenly forgotten. We hadn’t really been fighting. Just distracting ourselves. Avoiding what was happening now. “Maybe someone told you something or said something that made you want to leave or dared you?”

Again, I kept my mouth shut and shook my head.

“Not even Amy?”

I looked offended, and Janet echoed it. “Mel!”

“Just have to check,” Beouf said. “Narrow down all the possibilities.”

“If it wasn’t something I did, or something one of the others put you up to, was it something Mrs. Beouf or Mrs. Zoge did?” To her credit, Beouf didn’t take offense.

No answer from me but a shake of the head.

“Then why?” Janet repeated. “Do you even know?”

I avoided eye contact any way I could, looking at the carpet and the fake paper snowflakes all around. Eventually I stared at my diaper bag, and the two beady little black eyes on a stuffed savannah predator poking out the top.

How could I tell them? How could I tell them in a way that they would understand and accept as true? It’d taken me months to get to this point. How could they possibly catch up to me in just a few minutes?

It was impossible. I loved them but they were Amazons. At the end of the day they were going to hear whatever they wanted to hear. Even if I was a person to them, I wasn’t one worth listening to. All I could do was regroup, play the game a little bit longer, bide my time until I rebuilt their trust, then make my opening and escape again.

And if that didn’t work I’d escape again.

And again.

And again, and again, and again, and again.

I had to. Whether it hurt them or not- whether it hurt me or not- I had to. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

I had no-

“Shut up!”

“Excuse me?” Mrs. B asked. “What was that?”

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to dig my fingernails into my scalp only to get soft blunted scraping from the mittens. “Not you, Mrs. B.” I huffed. “I was talking to Lion.”

“What did Lion say?” Janet asked.

I chewed on my tongue for a second, mustering the nerve. “He said that I had to leave because things were too good. He said that I wanted to leave you feeling happy instead of hating me. Because I’d miss you and I wanted you both to have some kind of happy memory of me or something. But he’s full of shit.”

“He is?” Beouf said gently. “Are you sure.”

My bottom lip found its way prominently outward. My own gaze stayed transfixed on Lion. “Yeah,” I said. “I wanted to hurt you two. I wanted you to think everything was fine and then be completely heartbroken when I disappeared and spend the rest of your lives wondering where you went wrong.”

Lion floated gently out of the bag and into my arms. I crushed the traitor to choke out his blasphemy. “What else does Lion say?” Janet asked.

“He says that I love you,” I cracked. “That I love both of you. But especially you, Janet.” I blanched.. “He gets to call you Janet because you’re not his Mommy.”

“Okay,” Mommy said. “I can deal with that.”

“But he says it’s not a new thing,” I blinked and stared off in the distance, pretending that I was alone with just Lion despite all evidence to the contrary. “That I’ve always loved you. You were the first Amazon I ever met who asked me to call them by their first name almost right off the bat. You had my back. You made me feel safe. I almost never feel safe. That’s what Lion thinks.”

I sat down. I hadn’t been aware that I’d been walking back over to the naughty stool. I hadn’t realized that Mommy and Mrs. B. were carefully following me, hanging on every word.

“So Lion’s not telling the truth?” Mrs. B. repeated.

“Nope,” I said. “He’s Lion.” I laughed bitterly at my own lame joke. “I hate you both. You’re crazy Amazons that don’t listen to anyone smaller than you ever and trapped me here. You’re the reason I’m like this. This is all of your fault and you worked together to ruin my life. You’ve hypnotized me, gaslit me, conditioned me, and poisoned me so that I’m at the level of a two year old at best.” I relaxed my grip on Lion and adjusted my onesie. “Probably less.”

“What else does Lion say?” Janet lightly touched my shoulder and then gently stroked Lion’s fur.

“He thinks that maybe I was squalling on you.”

“Squalling?” Mrs. B. echoed. “What’s…squalling?”

I slapped a covered hand over Lion’s muzzle and pushed it into his face. “You know how Amazons cosset?” I asked. “How they see a Little and they just want to take care of them?”

“Yeah…”

“I think squalling is the opposite,” I said. “A Little sees an Amazon and wants to be taken care of by them. Wants them to be their Mommy, even if they won’t admit it. Enough that they’ll come back after summer break even though they shouldn’t because someone else just tried to Adopt them.”

“I’ve never heard of squalling,” Mrs. B said.. “Is that a um…Little thing?”

“Not really. I just sort of made it up. If there’s a better word for it, I haven’t heard it. Probably because whoever felt it got Adopted already.”

“But you weren’t um…squalling on me?” Mommy said. “Just Lion says you were.”

“Yup.” I popped the /p/ sound at the very end. “You got it, Mommy.” I wasn’t looking directly at her, but she looked like she might start crying. Same with Mrs. B. Same with me.

“Why does Lion think you tried to run away?” Mommy wondered.

No answer came out of me. Nor Lion.

“Clark?” Mrs. B. “Lion?”

“He says…” I searched for the right words. “He says it’s because you broke your promise, Mommy.”

Mommy looked worried. “What promise?”

“You said that I could go see Cassie one last time.”

Mommy’s face fell three-inches. “Clark, baby. She was gone when we got there.”

“Lion. Says. I don’t. Care.” My face broke into a rabid snarl and my throat rattled. “My In-Laws won’t talk to me. My parents wrote me off as dead. My wife got taken away and Adopted.” Lion’s paw pointed at Mommy. “And you said that I’d get to see her one last time.” My voice fell into a flat monotone while the hurricane roiled inside. “You said that I could get some closure. And you gave up the second it got hard because you didn’t really wanna! You killed me, Mommy. Clark Gibson died so you could have your Little Grange. Now I’m just a ghost who’s run out of unfinished business.”

“Oh Clark…” Mrs. B. whispered.

“Oh, baby…” Mommy said.

“I don’t know where she is,” I croaked. “I don’t know if she has a good Mommy like you, or a bad one like Ambrose. I don’t know if she’s at a daycare, or at New Beginnings. I don't know what city she’s in! I don’t know if she’s mad at me or scared! I don’t even know if she still remembers me!” I took a deep breath. “LION SAYS HOW CAN I LET MYSELF BE HAPPY WHEN I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY WIFE?!”

Lion was on the floor looking up at the ceiling. I was burying my face in my mittened palms and screaming agony. Two hands patted me on the back. No one shushed me. No one tried to calm me down. All was still, save for me.

When I looked up, I was being held by Janet. No clue when that transition had happened, but it had.

“Okay, Clark.” she said softly. “You’re right.”

I wiped my nose on my forearm. “About what?”

Melony was standing beside us. “It’s past time to start lookin’. Let’s find Cassie.”