XVIII – MARGARET

Family dinner

I never wanted to be a mother. I don't know why. Perhaps it was because I always found children to be a nuisance. Or maybe it was the look on that creepy guy from NuGenesis, always staring at me like I was the mother of the Savior or something. When Jarod was born, the amount of labor pains and the nights without sleep didn't do much to change my perspective on that matter. Then I got used to it. I had to. Jarod had grown on me – not just in me.

Charles was so happy with his son that he thought it was a good idea to give him a brother. Oh, sure! Easy for him to say! It's not as if he'd be the one who had to endure all the pain of carrying and giving birth to a child. The candy bars they offered at NuGenesis were not enough compensation.

Kyle came along and I prepared myself for another batch of sleepless nights.

After years of living as a regular family, just when I was getting used to being a mom, someone took my sons away and I remember thinking to myself: Maybe now I can get some sleep.

Then, the worrying came. Would they be all right? Would they be safe? And most of all: would they be away long enough for me to get at least one good night sleep? The answer to that last question was yes. Oh, I wished them well and all that, but now that I had plenty of time to sleep like a rock, I intended to use it.

And then came Emily.

Damn you, Charles! And damn me for letting you talking me into doing it in the barn!

And so, nearly forty years after our family got separated because of The Centre, we were all back together again. Which was kind of awkward, especially once I realized that Jarod was behind me reading what I just wrote.

“Mom... What is that?”

“This? Oh, this is nothing. Just some silly story I'm writing,” I answered, minimizing the window.

“You mention my name there.”

“That's because I like your name, sweetie.”

“You also mention Kyle and Emily and dad.”

“I like their names too,” I said, trying very hard to disguise my emerging annoyance.

“Don't you love me, mommy?”

God! He's acting like a four year old!

“Of course I love you!” I got up and kissed his forehead. “Now, be a good son and go buy the groceries I asked you to. We have a big dinner tonight, remember?”

“Can I bring some pop-tarts for dessert?”

“No. There's plenty of fruit in the refrigerator.”

“But I like pop-tarts! They contain...”

“Eleven essential vitamins and proteins. Yes, I know. You said that plenty of times. The answer is still no.”

He straightened up and stared at me. “I'm old enough to buy them if I want t--”

I smacked his butt once and shook my head as his lips began to tremble. “Don't. Or I'll call your dad.”

He sniffed loudly, then turned around and ran away. He stopped by the door and yelled between sobs: “I hate you! You're mean!”

“Bring some paprika!” I added, just before he left.

~*~

I was just finishing the salad when Emily came barging in through the kitchen door. Well, not exactly through the door itself.

“Mom! Mom! Jarod is making fun of me!”

“Am not!” he yelled from the living room.

“Is too!” said Ethan, entering the kitchen.

“Tell-tale!” said Jarod, also entering the kitchen and pushing Ethan.

“Says who?” asked Ethan, pushing Jarod back.

“Quiet, all of you!” said me.

“You're not my real mom!” said Ethan.

“Do you want me to call your father?”

The three bowed their heads. “No...” they said.

“Then go back to the living room and watch your cartoons until dinner is ready.”

Everyone left, except Ethan, who walked over to me shied.

“Margaret?”

“Didn't I tell you to go to the living room?”

“Is my sister coming too?”

“That harlot who spent years chasing after your brother?”

I had yet to find a good reason to like that woman.

“She said your hair is very pretty.”

Found one.

“Did she? Then of course she can come. It wouldn't be polite not to have her here tonight, right?”

“What about Lyle?”

That one was trickier. I knew about Lyle, but he was also Ethan's brother and he had that look... Oh, damn that look!

“He can come, as long as he doesn't mind eating in the playroom Jarod built for him.”

“That's a shed, not a playroom.”

“Potato, potato. As long as he has fun, that's what counts. Do you know if he plans on bringing company?”

“Probably something Asian for dessert.”

“Good. One less mouth to worry about.”

“Margaret?”

“Yes, Ethan?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry about it. Go on now, go play with your brothers.”

Ethan ran off and I resumed my chores. Funny how all my children are gifted, but here they're acting like children. Do you know why that is?

Are you talking to me?

Is anyone else here besides the two of us?

I thought you were just wondering to yourself.

I was. But now I'm asking you. So?

I don't know. It could be a glitch in the story's mainframe.

Well, can you check it out?

I really wasn't supposed to be on this story. Or anymore stories, for that matter. Readers are starting to complain about these interferences.

Let them. Can you do something about their behavior or not?

Maybe. Can I get back to you later?

Fine, but hurry up.

~*~

We set the table for ten – my husband, Jarod, Emily, Ethan, Miss Parker, Lyle (who would be seating inside his portable shed), baby “no name yet” Parker, Zoe and Andrew. However, there were some unexpected guests.

“What are they doing here?” I asked.

The they in question was Sydney, Broots and Mr. Raines.

“I invited them,” said Charles.

“Why?!”

“You said it was a family and friends dinner.”

“I didn't say to invite the people who spent years trying to destroy our family!”

“I resent that,” said Mr. Raines. “After all, I was the one who helped Catherine gave birth to Ethan.”

“Yeah, you did! Right before you shot her!” Miss Parker retorted. “Gas-breath!”

“Ice Queen!”

“Bone-bag!”

“Uh... Ice Queen!”

“Ah! You already said that one! You lose!”

Margaret? Is this a bad time?

“No, go ahead.”

“Who are you talking to, honey?”

“She can hear the Voices too?” Sydney asked.

“Mooooom!!! I´m hungry!” said Emily.

“Miss Charles! Jarod is pretending to have no thumb to make fun of me!” complained Lyle.

“Shut up!!! All of you just shut the-hell-up!” That got their attention. They all became quiet and stared at me. “Jarod, Lyle is a guest in this house. You know better.”

“But he killed Kyle,” Jarod argued. “And I hate him!”

“All right, then. You can beat the crap out of him after we finish dinner.”

“Hey! That's not fair!” said Lyle.

“Quiet! I can't hear myself think! Yes? You were saying?”

Huh... right, yes, I've been checking the system and it looks like I got some of the characters ages wrong.

“Wrong how?”

Well... According to what I have here, Emily is six, Jarod is four, Sydney is eighteen...

That explains that pat he gave me. Belgian Hi! my ass, that little weasel!

“How many are like that?”

You're not.

“So this why everyone is acting like children...”

“Am not!” said all in unison.

“Can you fix it?”

Not unless you want to restart the whole thing. Right from the prologue.

“Heavens, no!”

Anyway, the epilogue will not have any of you, so you can all get some rest. All you really have left is dinner. That's easy.”

“Easy for you to say.” I took a long breath and prepared myself. “All right everyone! Who's ready for some dinner?”

They all clapped their hand and cheered happily. I smiled and began serving the food.

“What's that?” Jarod asked.

“Pork chops with mashed potatoes.”

They all dug in as if they were all truly hungry or as if my cooking had become good all of a sudden.

“Mommy?” Jarod asked between bites.

“Yes, Jarod?”

“Why did you run away from me when you saw me at the island?”

Yikes! I was hoping he didn't remember that. Might as well tell him the truth.

“I was late for an appointment at the beauty salon,” I admitted. Seeing Jarod's stunned look, I reached for the potato salad. “More potato, anyone?”

“I want a beer!” said Charles

“I don't think you're old enough to have a beer in this story.”

“Do you have pop-tarts, Miss Charles?” asked Broots.

“No,” said Jarod. “She didn't let me buy them.”

He thought I wasn't looking, but I saw him wink. Little misfit!

“You two! Stop talking and eat your dinner.”

“Can I have the green stuff instead?” Jarod asked.

“No. If you want green, you have your peas and your salad.”

“I want the green stuff too!” cried Emily.

“I said no! Eat your meat.”

“You're mean!” said Ethan. “I wish my mommy was here!”

“Me too!” said Miss Parker.

“And I wish Kyle was here too!” said Jarod.

And the voices of the children were so pure and innocent that their wishes were granted and, in a blink of an eye, a missing mother and a lost brother were now sitting at the table. (I added chairs too.) And everyone was screaming.

Margaret, why is everyone screaming?

“You really don't know?” I asked, with no attempt to hide my irritation.

No. I made their wishes come true. I thought everyone would be happy. I brought your son and your best friend back.

“Yeah, you did. But you forgot to bring them back to life, you idiot! Now I have two corpses sitting at my table!”

At least, Cox isn't here.

“That's not funny.”

It's a bit funny. From a certain point of view.

“Look, I'm tired of all of this. I'm going out,” I said and got up.

What about the story?

“You said it was easy. You finish it.”

I waved at everyone sitting at the table and left the kitchen.

All right. I can do this.

Everyone! Hey! May I have your attention?

They were all still screaming because of the two corpses sitting at the table. So maybe that wasn't my smartest move, but it wasn't the stupidest one either.

Listen up!

No use. Let's just skip to the epilogue and end this.