The Change: Life

by J. C. Nichols

  "Jacob! What the fuck?!" I yelled up at him.

  Ivy turned and looked down at me. "Mom! It wasn't his fault! We were talking on the roof and I gently bumped him, but he's not used to being on roofs so he fell. I-uh-he caught himself before he hit the ground."

  I stared hard at my daughter, waiting for her to break down and tell me the truth. She still didn't know that I knew she had those strange, inhuman powers of hers.

  "Really?! He caught himself by his feet and then pulled himself back up?"

  Ivy looked away from me and shrugged. "Yeah."

  "Get your ass down here, young woman. It's time we had a talk. And what the hell are you two doing on the roof to begin with? Are you trying to break your necks? As if we don't have enough shit trying to kill us already?!"

  Ivy didn't say anything, but she began to scramble off the roof, helping Jacob down at the same time.

  "And you-" I told Jacob as I walked closer. "- you forget everything you saw in there. Accident or not, you better wipe those images out of your mind."

  Ivy grinned. "Welcome to the club, mom. He saw me naked first."

  My eyes widened and my mouth fell open. Ivy's went downcast again, and she rushed into the house.

  "Ma'am, I'm really-"

  I didn't let him finish. "Jacob, go to bed. Now. I need to have a serious talk to my daughter about lying."

  I didn't look back at him as I walked back into the house.

  *

  I found Ivy sitting on my bed with the lights turned off, quietly looking down at her hands. She was nervously playing with her fingers, something she always did when she was nervous. Something that always melted me.

  "Sprout. We need to talk."

  "Look, I know what this is about. But you're just going to have to trust me, OK? I mean, yeah, I've thought about it and all, and we've talked about it, but I know I'm too young and-"

  "Wait, what? What are you talking about right now?"

  She looked up at me, genuinely surprised. "Uh – Jacob. Me and Jacob. Look, I know what you think, that we are up to something and doing things, but we're really not. I mean, we did kiss once but-"

  "You kissed? When the fuck was this?"

  Ivy blinked several times and then studied my face. "That isn't what you wanted to talk to me about, was it? I just snitched myself off, didn't I?"

  As mad as I was at that moment, I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, you kind of did. Sprout, I wanted to talk to you about something a bit more serious than Jacob."

  My beautiful daughter crinkled her face in confusion. I suddenly had a flashback of when she was a baby, and I was driving her home. She was so tiny, so innocent, so beautiful. So vulnerable.

  "Ivy, you need to start being honest with me. About everything. I've always been honest with you."

  For several long, tense minutes she didn't say anything. I watched as her eyes fell to the bed, as her breathing became irregular, as tears started sliding down her cheeks. I resisted the powerful urge to go comfort her, even though I wanted nothing more in the world than to hold her and do just that.

  "Baby..."

  "Mom, I don't want to lose you. And..."

  "Honey, you'll never lose me. Over anything."

  She looked up at me. Past me. Her eyes widened.

  "What are you two talking about in here?"

  I sighed. It was my mother. "Mom, it’s really none of your business. Can you please give me some time alone with my daughter?"

  "No. I just finished comforting Jacob, because he is absolutely terrified that he's about to get kicked out. He thinks he's going to have to fend for himself out there with all those monsters running about. Now why would he have that kind of impression? What did you do to him?"

  "Oh-no-you-did-not-just-come-into-my-room-while-I'm-talking-to-my-daughter-and-try-to-accuse-me-of-threatening-her-boyfriend!" I spat out rapid fire, impressing even myself with the rapid stream of words.

  "Mom!" Ivy yelled, grabbing my arm. I shrugged her off.

  My mother’s eyebrows practically floated off her forehead. "Boyfriend, now? So they are a couple, are they? That is ridiculous. I will not allow it."

  "Wait, what?" Ivy shouted. "What is so wrong with me that I'm – I mean, why wouldn't I – I mean – agggh!"

  It took every ounce of woman in me not to smile at my daughter’s frustration. "That is uncalled for, mother, and you know it. It doesn't matter how you feel about it. All that matters is how they feel. Hell, it doesn't even matter what I feel, because they've already had sex. Ivy's pregnant."

  "M-Mom!!!" Ivy looked like she was about to pass out.

  My mother took a step back, clutching her chest. "No! It can't be!"

  "It's true. We were just discussing baby names. Want to join in? Got any good ones? If it's a girl, we were thinking about naming it after you."

  My mother – and Ivy – were both flabbergasted, speech completely impossible for either of them.

  I relished the chaos. They both deserved it.

  "Mom, she's not pregnant. They haven't had sex -" I looked at Ivy, who quickly shook her head "- and they're not even really a couple. So relax before you have a heart attack."

  "That is not funny, young woman!" She managed to stammer.

  "Yeah, mom, it was. For several reasons. The biggest is watching your irrational hatred of my daughter completely cloud your vision. I've been witnessing it for years, ever since I brought her home. She's never done anything to you – so why do you hate her so much?"

  The air went still. It had all led up to this. The moment of truth. "Look mom, this shit is either getting resolved tonight, or we're all going to box it out. Ain't nobody leaving this goddam room unless they're either dead or we're a family again. And, at this point, I honestly don't care which."

  Funny thing is I was being dead serious. This rift was ridiculous, and completely unnecessary.

  And hurtful.

  My mother looked at me for a long time. Several minutes later, she nodded. "Fine. It's her people that killed your father. My husband. The world. They're out there, you know. It's not just the Changed. The – whatever they are – the Others – they're out there, destroying this planet bit by bit. For all we know they could be looking for her. But even if they're not, it's still her people. Having her in this house, caring for her, it's a slap in the face to the spirit of your dead father, to the human race, to the very planet itself."

  I sighed. So this is what it was all about. "Mom... dad didn't die. Not when you thought he did, at least. I... I didn't kill him. I kind of locked him up in a shed and -"

  I didn't expect the slap, which is why it damn near knocked me off the bed. My face was practically on fire, and my mother was standing over me with the craziest expression I had ever seen on her face. "You. Better. Be. Lying."

  I reminded myself that this was my mother and took deep, calming breaths, hoping my adrenaline would quit racing through my system.

  "No. Look. He wanted me to kill him. But the Change didn't take him completely. He kept his mind. I couldn't – I couldn't kill him. So I tied him up in this old shed and visited him weekly, bringing food and news of what was going on with us."

  "Take me to see him. Now. Or so help me-"

  "Mom, I can't. I went to the shed on my way home with Ivy when she was still a baby and he wasn’t there. The door was opened and he was gone."

  My mother’s eyes widened in an alarming fashion, and her fists balled tightly at her side.

  "Mom, calm down, please, I don't want to-"

  She screamed and launched herself at me.

  And then screamed again as she was sent flying through the air and stuck to the wall by some kind of unseen force.

  I turned to Ivy.

  "Ivy!"

  "I'm not letting her hurt you anymore, mom! Wait... how did you know it was me?"

  My mother gently slid down the wall.

  "I've known since you came back. I made Jacob
tell me. But I shouldn't have had to, Sprout. You should have been the one to tell me."

  Ivy made some kind of weird motion that wasn't quite a nod or shrug.

  "How long have you known?"

  Both me and Ivy turned simultaneously to my mother, shocked that she had spoken.

  I turned back to Ivy, who was visibly flabbergasted. "I... Um... It happened when the man Jacob was with tried to-to rape me. It just kind of happened. I've been trying to understand it – control it – since then."

  My mother nodded and slowly stood up. "Why didn't you tell us?" She asked, her voice uncharacteristically calm.

  I studied my mother. She was being abnormally civil towards my daughter, and I didn't trust it.

  Ivy took a deep breath. "You are all I got. You and mom. I didn't want to scare either of you and be left all alone. I-I don't have anyone else... I can't live without-"

  Ivy wiped her eyes and looked away as she visibly tried to compose herself. I wanted to go to her, but I was mystified by this confrontation between her and my mother, and something told me it was best to simply stay put and let this play itself out.

  My mother finally stood all the way up and frowned. She looked like she was deep in thought. She then slowly looked up at Ivy and held her hands out. "Come here, child."

  My eyes widened. It was a trap.

  Ivy moved off the bed and into her arms, and I tensed as my mother’s arms closed around her. I was prepared to jump in and separate them if I had to.

  Turns out, I didn't.

  What I was witnessing was genuine. My mother was actually reaching out to my daughter, accepting her, for the first time in her life. And my daughter was melting into it.

  I couldn't resist – I knew it was cliché, but it just felt right: I walked over and hugged them both, wrapping my arms around them, and we became one big bundle of love.

  For the first time ever.

  - IVY -

  Date: March 13, 2019

  Time: 11:30 PM

  Dear Diary,

  I know it's been a while since I wrote in this thing, but a lot has been happening lately. Especially last night. For the first time in-well-ever, really, me and grandma hugged. And talked. And even cuddled on the bed with my mother late into the night, until we all fell asleep.

  And then were promptly attacked the next morning.

  It was actually kind of funny.

  My grandmother was the first to notice our invader; she shook me awake, and my scream in turn woke up my mother.

  It was a baby mouse.

  So there we all were, huddled on the bed, watching the baby mouse as it explored my mother’s room, investigating absolutely everything it came into contact with.

  Screaming like a bunch of schoolgirls.

  Maxx came in to investigate, saw the mouse, and jumped right on the bed with us in the most uncharacteristic display of dog I had ever seen. Not that we were being much better.

  We weren't afraid of the Changed, or the strange Others that have started roaming the planet, but let a baby mouse come in, and we all completely lost it.

  Of course, I didn't see the humor in this at the time.

  Jacob ran into the room, apparently fresh out of the shower, with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist. He asked us what was wrong, panic thick in his voice, no doubt expecting to learn that one of us had come down with the Change or someone had died overnight.

  We all just pointed in unison to the mouse.

  He looked at the direction we pointed at, and the mouse actually stopped exploring and stood on its hind legs, facing him, like it was coolly appraising this new intruder.

  Jacob had the nerve to laugh. He couldn't believe that the tiny little mouse had us in such a state of panic.

  After we all glared darts at him he chased it around and eventually out of the room. Moments later her returned to tell us that he herded it outside.

  The tension broke, and all us poor little defenseless women laughed at the silliness of the situation. I slid off the bed, still giggling, and hugged him. "Thank you, my hero." I said in an exaggerated, helpless female voice.

  My mom made equally exaggerated gagging sounds behind me.

  Which just made Jacob's entire body blush.

  Which just made us laugh even more...

  *

  ...so yeah, it was definitely a good way to start the day.

  After Jacob left we started investigating each other for signs of the Change – which was a lot faster of a process now that there was two of us examining the other.

  I helpfully offered to check Jacob over for signs of the Change while my mother and grandmother made breakfast, but my idea was promptly shot down.

  Instead, for the first time ever, my mother said that she'd check him over while me and grandma made breakfast. I hated to admit it, but I saw her logic: she wanted to make sure the bridge between us grew stronger, and doing small mundane things like making a meal together would ensure this.

  My grandma even jokingly asked me if I had any special powers for making meals yet as we walked into the kitchen. I told her I didn't, but I had brought a small rabbit back to life that Jacob tried to kill for food a few weeks ago.

  I remember the look my grandmother gave me – it was a mixture of amusement, wonder, and... something else I couldn't quite place. Not hatred, though, which was a huge step up from where we were only yesterday. It felt good to have a grandmother – to have another woman besides my mom that I could talk to about – you know – girl things.

  For a while we cooked in silence, fitting together neatly; we knew what the other wanted, and simply got it without the other having to ask. It was almost magical.

  And then I ruined it.

  I remember the conversation verbatim.

  "Grandma, Jacob asked me a good question the other day, and I've been thinking about it since. But I haven't been able to figure anything out. Why did only a small handful of people survive the Change? What makes us so special?"

  Grandma stopped cutting up onions and put her knife carefully on the counter. "I have been asking myself that question since before you were born, Ivy. I have no idea. And I doubt I'll live to know the answer."

  Something inside me ignited then, like a hyper sensitivity type of thing, and I knew that there was something wrong inside grandma's body. It wasn't the Change, but... something else.

  "Yes, I'm dying, Ivy. I don't know what, but something is wrong inside of me. I've been feeling so much more fatigued than normal, and I always seem to have a fever. I've also been losing weight faster than I ever have. I keep throwing up when I wake up, sometimes blood..."

  I just stood there. I was finally getting to know her, finally forming a bond with her, and now she was telling me that she was dying. And what’s worse is that I felt it, I could feel the thing killing her.

  "Cancer," I said as my mind began to translate the myriad signals it was getting from my sudden sixth sense of her condition.

  She just nodded and picked her knife back up. "How much longer do I have left?" She asked me without turning around. I tried to feel the answer, tried to divine something – anything – that could give me a clue. I silently cursed as the information I was seeking clicked into place in my mind. It was information I really didn’t want to know.

  "Maybe a month. With no stress." I finally managed to get out.

  She nodded again and finished with the onions, moving on to the next project.

  We didn't say a word to each other as we cooked, each of us lost in our own thoughts...

  *

  Ivy closed her diary carefully and gently placed both it and the pen she had been writing with next to her on the bed. The rest of the day after breakfast had gone somewhat normally, with her grandmother becoming more lively as the day dragged on. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that they would keep the conversation private.

  It was an agreement that was torturous for Iv
y, but one that she managed to somehow keep.

  She slid off the bed and stood up, automatically smoothing her night shirt out and briefly wondering if she should keep wearing it even with Jacob in the house. It only came down to her mid-thigh, and even though she always wore panties underneath, the panties she wore were made more for little kids than girls blossoming into womanhood.

  In other words, if he ever caught a glimpse of them, he would never think sexy.

  She blinked, stunned at the string of thoughts that she just had. She was entirely too young to want to be sexy to begin with, and Jacob was to scared of, well, everything. He would never attempt to try anything of that nature with her. Every time they did something even mildly inappropriate; kissed, held hands, sat closer than normal to each other – it was her doing, her aggressiveness that caused it. Never his.

  And, besides, she thought coyly as she looked at her reflection in the slightly cracked mirror in her room, he had already seen her cha-chas.

  Well, cha-cha nubs, she thought sourly.

  The window by her bed exploded inwards, and before she could turn around something firmly grabbed the back of her neck and slammed her face against the wall – and then lifted her off the floor, continuing to force her head deeper and deeper into the wall as she was raised. She tried screaming, but the wall muffled her, tried fighting back but the enemy was behind her, completely unreachable.

  Where was Maxx? Her mother? Or even her grandmother? They should have heard this, should have been here to save her.

  Where was Jacob?

  Her attacker suddenly let her go and she dropped to the floor. She looked up towards the face of her assailant as she recovered.

  It was Jacob.

  Both her mouth and eyes opened wide as a torrent of emotions went through her so fast that she was literally choked by them.