Uncle and Ants

by Marc Jedel

  Mrs. Kim, either sensing things were complicated or very tired herself, gave us a small smile. “It no problem. I like the girls. We have good time together. Good night.” Without asking for any further explanation, she stepped past us into the hallway and headed to her apartment.

  I closed the door behind her. A moment later, I realized I needed to ask her if she could help out in the morning when we had to go to Meghan’s house. I opened the door to an empty hallway.

  Closing and locking the door again, I said, “I don’t get how she does that.”

  “Does what?” Meghan spoke in a flat voice almost too quiet to hear.

  I looked at her. She swayed from side to side and looked ready to collapse. “Never mind. Let’s get you settled.” I led the way to my office. Carefully, I opened the doors and peeked in. All clear. No Megan lying inside. I gestured Meghan into the room and turned on the light. I pulled out a pillow and blankets from the closet and set them on the futon. In a drawer in the closet, I found some clean sweats and pajamas that Amanda had left here when she last visited.

  “The girls are sleeping in the room across the hall. The next door down is the guest bathroom. There should be some new toothbrushes in the drawer. I’ll see you in the morning.” I stopped myself before telling her to dream about puppies playing ping-pong against ants. I’ve been spending too much time with my nieces.

  30

  Saturday Early Morning

  A scream woke me. Jumping out of bed, I rushed down the hallway. I don’t know why people need coffee to wake up. Adrenaline accomplished the same result.

  The doors to the office were ajar. Meghan sat on the futon in sweats and Megan, who must have made it into the office sometime last night after I fell asleep, sat on the floor in her pajamas rubbing her eyes.

  “You stepped on me,” accused Megan with a whine.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You weren’t there when I went to sleep last night and I didn’t notice you were on the ground when I got up.” Meghan’s voice was calm so it must have been Megan whose scream woke me.

  Now altogether awake, Megan narrowed her eyes and started to grill my guest. “Does Uncle Marty know you’re here? He doesn’t like people sleeping in his office.”

  Meghan kept a straight face as she answered, “Yes, he invited me to stay here because I had a problem at my house.”

  “No fair.” Megan grumbled louder, so I thought it best to jump in.

  “Let me introduce you both. Megan, meet Meghan.”

  “You have my name and you get to sleep in the office? No fair!” Megan jumped up, stomped out of the office, muttering to herself as she went across the hall, and then slammed the door as she went into the guest room. Skye’s yell at Megan for waking her up confirmed that Skye was now also awake.

  Working hard to keep from laughing out loud, Meghan’s smile lit up her eyes. “Perhaps I should go take a shower now.” She headed for the bathroom.

  With Megan stomping around in the guest room, I felt free to laugh at her display of drama. I walked back to my bedroom and threw on my typical Hawaiian shirt and shorts.

  I walked back down the hallway. Outside the girls’ room, not yet daring to enter, I announced, “Time for breakfast. Who wants pancakes?”

  At least that got a positive reaction so I hustled to the kitchen to get things started.

  The girls came out of their bedrooms and sat at the kitchen table. Megan wasn’t talking to me, but Skye asked, “Who’s the woman?”

  “She’s a friend who wasn’t able to sleep at home last night so she stayed here,” I answered, careful to avoid discussion of possible killers who were after both their mother and Meghan.

  I walked out of the kitchen. Skye regarded me as a funny expression formed on her face. She pointed at my shirt and gestured with her hand like she was waving me off.

  I looked down to check if it had any visible stains. My shirt was clean. “What’s wrong with this? I wear it all the time.”

  Lips pressed together, Skye squinted her eyes and tilted her head to the side and then, with a sad voice, sighed, “No wonder you’re not married, Uncle Marty.”

  I let her comment slide past me. The palm trees and multi-colored flowers on my shirt mostly matched the color of my cargo shorts. I don’t understand girls.

  Changing the subject away from my attire, I said, “Hey girls, I have good news.”

  Megan didn’t blink before responding, “I get to sleep in the office tonight?” Her mind was quick, although only seemed to have one-track.

  “No, even better. Your mom should be well enough to come home later today.” I’d called the hospital last night while Rover drove me to meet Meghan for dinner. “We’ll go pick her up from the hospital this afternoon.”

  Both girls cheered at that happy news. Megan did her happy dance. Although Skye acted too cool for that, she broke out with a wide grin.

  I continued, “This morning, I’ll see if Mrs. Kim can stay with you again for a little while. I need to go with Meghan somewhere.” I didn’t want to worry them with all the details. I worried enough for us all.

  The girls cheered again. Mrs. Kim had a better reputation in my apartment than I did.

  By the time Meghan came down the hallway to the kitchen, I had the pancake batter ready to go on the griddle. I stepped out of the kitchen. “Want pancakes?”

  “Sure. Out of clean clothes?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Oh. Never mind.” Meghan dropped her line of questioning and moved to an open chair at the table.

  I don’t understand women. I see men wearing Hawaiian shirts all the time out to restaurants or at parties. At least I was sure I would if I went to many parties. I returned to the simpler task of cooking pancakes.

  Across the counter that separated the galley kitchen from the kitchen table, I watched Meghan sit down self-consciously at the table, her hair still damp, and look around. Gazing out on my small combination living room/dining room as if I were seeing it for the first time, I tried to assess my place through fresh eyes.

  It resembled any number of modern, but not trendy, apartments in the area. A comfortable, beige leather couch, wall-mounted TV, small coffee table and a reclining, leather lounge chair filled most of the living area. Two nice prints bought years ago from local art festivals hung on the walls and some framed pictures of my kids sat on the mantel over the fake fireplace. At least I’d outgrown the forest green, over-stuffed La-Z-Boy recliner from my younger days. Despite fraying at the seams and a few unexplainable holes, that was the most comfortable chair ever. Well, second to Billy Bob’s throne. My ex-wife made me get rid of it when we got married. Although I didn’t have the most fashion-forward décor, at least I kept the place neat.

  Meghan turned back from her brief inspection to look at the girls. “Hi. My name is Meghan.” She turned to Skye, “I’ve already met Megan so you must be Skye.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Marty … your Uncle Marty … told me a little about you. He mentioned you were doing a science fair project on ants. I thought you might be interested to know that I help companies study the impact their new buildings will have on the environment. The project I’m working on right now focuses on a species of endangered ants, with the scientific name of Dorymyrmex insanus.”

  Skye’s eyes almost bugged out of her head as she turned into a human version of the crazy ant. She acted as if she’d been magically transported to a rock concert where the lead singer pulled her up onto the stage. Skye wouldn’t let such an opportunity to engage with an ant expert slip by. Both of her arms started shaking as she popped out of her chair and bounced on her toes. She launched into a complicated series of questions where I could practically see the footnotes in the air. Within seconds, the two of them were talking a mile a minute.

  They lost me right away. Megan looked at me and then stuck out her tongue to the side of her mouth and made a strangled face that they didn’t notice. This didn’t appear to the be
the first time she had endured her sister geeking out on her. Nor did it look to be her last.

  I winked at her and gave my attention to the pancakes cooking on the stove. When the first batch of pancakes finished cooking, I flipped them onto a plate and brought them to the table. After serving everyone, I snagged one for myself as the chef’s tax and set the plate with the rest down on the table. I walked back to the stove to get another batch going.

  I looked up as the conversation slowed to see a flurry of butter spreading and syrup pouring. Skye and Meghan picked up their forks to take a bite. But Megan picked up an extra pancake from the plate, licked it, and put it down on the plate. Meghan smiled and wrinkled her nose. Before I could react, Meghan picked up a different pancake on the plate, made sure that Megan was watching, then licked it and put it down too.

  Skye started laughing. “You’re a grown-up, you’re not supposed to do that.”

  “Well, I figured I needed to protect my next pancake too.”

  Megan leaned forward, now intrigued by this interloper. “Did you have to lick your food too when you were growing up to make sure no one stole it?”

  “I have three brothers. I wish I’d thought of that idea, but I don’t think it would have mattered to them anyway. If it was food, saliva-coated or not, they would’ve eaten it.”

  “Did you have your own room?” asked Megan.

  “Sometimes I did, but sometimes I had to share,” said a very wise Meghan, sneaking a quick glance at me.

  “Did you know the tooth fairy is real?” Megan was pleased that she’d grabbed control of the conversation.

  “Oh really?” Meghan kept her tone neutral.

  Megan heard doubt. “Betcha?”

  “What’s ‘Betcha’?” Meghan looked to me for an explanation.

  “Just go with it,” I said.

  She turned back to Megan. “Ok. How do you know?” Meghan asked.

  “That’s not how you play.” Megan put her hands on her hips from her seated position and stuck her jaw out in complaint.

  In the next instant, her faux frustration disappeared as her excitement bubbled over. Megan reached into her pocket and pulled out a real dollar bill, one of those old-fashioned green paper ones that you seldom see anymore. “See! The tooth fairy gave me a dollar under my pillow last night for my lost tooth.” She opened her lips wide to reveal a hole in her mouth from the missing tooth.

  “Wow,” said a suitably impressed Meghan, “What will you do with it?”

  While Megan regaled Meghan with her plans to spend her newfound wealth, Skye slipped out of her chair into the kitchen. She whispered to me, “You owe Mrs. Kim a buck.”

  I can’t win. Even Meghan didn’t have to pay up and she had played “Betcha.” I settled for bringing out the second batch of pancakes to the table.

  “Chocolate chip pancakes?” squealed Megan.

  I grinned. I am the pancake master. “Yes, I remembered them after I made the first batch and I thought you’d like them.”

  Everyone took another pancake. I made sure to grab one too before any licking began.

  Skye paused and looked at the pancake on her plate before raising her eyebrow at me. “Are you showing off, Uncle Marty?”

  Well, maybe a little. A pang of shame struck me as I hadn’t remembered I could make pancakes for them earlier in the week. I deftly changed topics. “Megan, I’m sorry I didn’t give you an idea for a dream last night. Did you have a good dream anyway?”

  Megan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, it’s okay. Mrs. Kim gave me an awesome idea.”

  I hadn’t expected Mrs. Kim to get called upon for dream duty. “What did she suggest?”

  “She told us to dream of pigs and flying around.”

  “What?”

  “She told us it would be super lucky.”

  “Flying pigs?”

  Skye almost choked on her milk as she laughed at this.

  Megan crossed her arms against her chest. “No, silly. Us flying around and lots of pigs on the ground. Pigs don’t fly.” With that clarified, she took another bite of her chocolate chip pancake while Meghan giggled.

  As we finished eating, Meghan took her plate to the sink and asked, “Do you have a hairdryer?”

  I almost responded “No” before stopping to reconsider. “I’ll bet there’s one stashed away somewhere under the sink in that bathroom.” I didn’t justify why a man living alone with short cropped hair had a hairdryer in his apartment, but this didn’t seem like the right time to explain that I had a daughter in her junior year in college.

  “I’ll dry my hair and then I’m ready to go.” Meghan’s voice trailed off as she remembered our mission to confront Billy Bob this morning.

  “Ok, we’ll clean up and I’ll ask Mrs. Kim to watch the girls.”

  As Meghan walked back to the bathroom, both girls finished their last bites. While Skye put away the cooking supplies, Megan and I dealt with the dirty dishes. According to Megan, even chocolate chip pancakes had undesirable crusts that she swept into the disposal before loading the dishwasher.

  “She’s nice. She can stay.” Megan had waited until the hairdryer had turned on before making her pronouncement.

  “That’s sweet, Megan, but she’s just a friend who needed a place to sleep last night. She’ll be going back home today.”

  “Then it’s my turn to sleep in the office.” Megan stomped her foot for emphasis to make sure I understood the plan.

  “No, remember you’ll be going back home today, too.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Megan’s stomping changed into a twirling motion, happy to remember that she’d see her mother soon.

  I left the girls to walk down the hallway to Mrs. Kim’s apartment. Although I’d always been friendly when we ran into each other in the hallway or outside the building, we’d talked more in the last few days than we had over the last few months. I hated to impose, but I couldn’t think of who else to ask to watch the girls this morning.

  As I approached her door, Mrs. Kim opened it and greeted me. “Good morning, Mr. Marty. How are the girls this morning? And your new woman friend?”

  I took a breath to calm my racing heart. I had no idea how she did it. Perhaps she’d installed motion detectors in the hallway or pressure mats under the carpeting. Deciding this wasn’t the time to ask, I plowed ahead. “I hate to bother you again, but my friend and I have to go meet the police this morning and the girls can’t —”

  She interrupted, “I am very happy to spend time with the girls. They are very good girls.” She took a quick step out of her apartment and pulled the door shut behind her. She walked down the hall toward my apartment before I could even close my mouth. Mrs. Kim probably doesn’t get a lot of visitors. Once this was over, I’d have to ask her to join me, on occasion, when the girls visited. I caught up with her. “Great. I think I even have a 500-piece puzzle that you might enjoy doing with them.”

  The girls greeted Mrs. Kim with excitement. When I took out the puzzle, they pulled her over to the table and scattered the pieces. Meghan and I left the apartment a few minutes later and no one seemed to notice.

  “They really seem attached to Mrs. Kim. How long has she babysat for them?” asked Meghan.

  “They met on Tuesday night.”

  “Oh.” Meghan glanced at me in surprise. “Well, they all seem to get along wonderfully.”

  We walked out of the building and turned toward Meghan’s car, still parked on the street in the exact spot where we’d left it late last night. I had to admit it was nice to have a car sitting ready for you whenever you wanted to leave, without having to signal for it to come. The only downside was it didn’t give me enough time to calm my jitters before launching into the sting.

  I slowed, trying to calm down before getting in the car with Meghan. Perhaps Rover should have a new feature to predict when you’d want a car based on your travel habits and personal calendar. Then a Rover car could wait outside for you for a while. Of course, Rover could never have predicted that I�
��d be leaving this early on a Saturday morning.

  I’d bring up the idea of a predictive feature in the product planning meeting with marketing on Monday. It was time that I’d get some credit for a new idea even if marketing would give it a stupid name. After pondering for a few seconds, I broke out with a snort as I came up with my own stupid suggestion for the feature’s name. We could call it “W.O.O.F.,” standing for “What’s Our Outbound Future.” I’d sell it to marketing by explaining that customers would tell Rover, “W.O.O.F.” or “No W.O.O.F.!” depending on whether or not they wanted the feature activated.

  I snorted again. No, even for marketing, that was too far-fetched. Fetched? Too funny. I couldn’t decide if the marketing team would recognize that I was making fun of them. At least, I wouldn’t need to get over-caffeinated like Raj while testing this feature.

  “Marty, come on already,” yelled Meghan out the window of her car. “It’s time to go catch the bad guys.”

  31

  Saturday Morning

  Mace and two other cops waited on Meghan’s front porch when we pulled up promptly at nine o’clock. Their patrol cars were not in sight so they must have parked around the corner. Or, maybe Mace invoked an invisibility shield around their cars. I wouldn’t put it past him. I’m sure it’s all the rage for underwear models turned action heroes.

  When we reached the porch, Jackson turned to me and spoke without a greeting. “I changed my mind. I don’t want you here for this. A stranger in the house could spook Mr. Allen, and I don’t want it more dangerous than it already is. Plus, I don’t want this screwed up.”

  “But, …” I started, unsure what he was implying about me.

  “No! He’s staying. He can hide in my kitchen or a bedroom if you don’t want Billy Bob to see him,” said Meghan with an emphatic stomp on the porch.

  I kept my mouth shut as beams of invisible power lanced between Meghan and Mace. Their silent, but deadly, struggle of wills lasted but a few seconds while I reminded myself not to get on Meghan’s bad side in the future. That made me wonder if we had a future past this morning’s excitement. I liked her smile even if her glare made me wonder if I’d need a personal force field for protection.