The C I N Series Bundled

by Christina Leigh Pritchard

  “Thanks for watching out for me, Pig.”

  He snorted and I turned out the light.

  Four

  Aunt Millie

  “Morning, Lisa.”

  I rubbed my eyes. It was still dark outside. I looked down at my watch. It was only six am.

  “I’m your Aunt Millie. It is time to feed the chickens. Get dressed. It’s cold out so bundle up,” a short, round woman with mud brown hair said. I didn’t see any red highlights at all. She wore a white dress shirt buttoned all the way up and her eyes were pale. Pig did not growl at her. I peeked over the side of my bed. Where was Pig?

  “What happened to the dog?” I looked under the bed. “Bipolar?” He snorted. I leaned up and Aunt Millie pointed to the shelf above my head. Pig lay along the shelf with his head against the old photographs.

  “You renamed the dog?” Aunt Millie inquired. “You named him Bipolar? I don’t know what’s worse: Pig or Bipolar.”

  “Do you have a spare toothbrush? And thank you for allowing me to stay with you while my mother—”

  “It’s my pleasure to have you here. I have extra toiletries over at my house. Once you finish feeding the chickens and collecting eggs you can shower and eat there. I’ll cook you a nice, big breakfast.”

  “It’s so refreshing to meet someone who’s nice.” I tied my shoelaces. “I’ve never fed chickens or collected eggs so please be patient with me.”

  “It’s not very hard. Alex said he would help you. Go on outside and meet him.”

  Michael’s ski jacket really came in handy. It had to be below fifty degrees outside. There was frost on the ground and my teeth chattered. I was happy he hadn’t taken it back.

  Alex stood in the middle of the chicken coop with a bucket of feed. He sprinkled seeds out in a long thin line. Chickens gathered round, pecking furiously. His blond hair fell, covering his face. I could still feel him looking at me, though. I smiled and peered down at Pig who stayed at least an arm’s distance from me.

  “Are you going to let me do all of your chores?” Alex asked. I jogged over to the coop and crawled through the opening in the chicken wire.

  “Sorry. I’m not usually up this early or in such cold weather.”

  “Grab a basket,” Alex pointed to a wooden weaved basket. “Fill it with eggs. You need to make sure the chickens do not see you or else they will peck you.”

  “Now I see why you feed the chickens. It’s easier than collecting the eggs.”

  Alex did not smile. He glared at me with his pale blue eyes. Now that the sun was creeping up behind us, the rooster crowed. I laughed. Alex was Mr. Scrooge and I was up before the rooster. It couldn’t get any worse.

  Aunt Millie stood a few feet away. “Alex, honey, could you fetch me one of the chickens, please? I want to fix a nice dinner for Lisa.” Alex nodded his head and snatched a passing chicken by her neck. She clucked and scared all the other hens. They scurried around and hid inside their coop. Alex looked up at me. His eyes were blank.

  “I better go get the eggs,” I mumbled, frozen.

  Alex took out an axe, stretched the hen’s neck across a tree stump and dropped his weapon. The headless body ran around. That poor chicken. She didn’t even see it coming. Alex didn’t even flinch. Could I call PETA on him?

  I doubled over and vomited. Probably not a case for PETA.

  I think vegetarian is the way to go. A chicken free diet never hurt anyone; especially not the chickens.

  Pig inched closer. He sniffed the air and snorted. “I know, I know, get the eggs.” I took a deep breath. Pink’s song, ‘Funhouse’ played inside my head. This used to be a funhouse. But now it’s filled with evil clowns. Yeah, that’s how I felt. It’s time to start the count down. I’m gonna burn it down. I think someone already burned this family. They were cranky and angry. Even the animals seemed troubled.

  Alex stood inches away with the dead, twitching body of the hen in his hand. “Breakfast is ready.” I turned and narrowed my eyes at the chicken killer. He glared back. My heart beat irregularly almost as if I were afraid. I wasn’t going to let some blond, blood thirsty punk with evil pets scare me. Well, maybe a little.

  “I have to get the eggs.” I turned my back to him. “I—I have to get the eggs.” I smacked myself in the forehead. Why was I repeating myself like some idiot? He was not going to get the better of me. I’d met worse people.

  “I have to get the eggs.” I repeated. What was my problem? I glanced over my shoulder to find Alex gone. I was alone with the hens and Bipolar dog. Pig did seem calmer today. He wasn’t snarling at me when I made sudden movements, but he still would not let me pet him. What kind of dog hated to be touched? Even the meanest dogs liked a pat on the head every now and then. Pig didn’t even want commendation.

  I stepped into the henhouse and gasped. Alex was there. His basket was overflowing with eggs. How’d he get in there? I was standing in the doorway the whole time.

  “How’d you get in here?”

  He didn’t respond. “Take this basket of eggs inside. And don’t drop any.” He brushed past me, barely grazing my ski jacket. He twirled around. “Why’d you touch me?”

  I stepped back. “I didn’t. You’re the one moving. What’s the big deal anyway if I did touch you?” I reached my hand forward. I was going to poke him in the shoulder.

  Alex jerked back, angry. “Never touch me again.”

  I froze. He really was crazy. Maybe my mom sent me to the loony bin and is at the beach laughing at the mix up.

  “It was an accident. Chill out already.” I squeezed the basket of eggs tightly. “I better bring these inside.” I inched my way around him and hurried up the small dirt pathway to Aunt Millie’s house. Pig trotted alongside me. “Why don’t you growl at Alex when he’s being mean?”

  Pig growled at me. Evil dog…

  “If you’re gonna be mean to me, then go away. Get!” Pig barked and kicked dirt up behind him. “I mean it. Go away.” I knocked on Aunt Millie’s door. Pig sat at my feet. His eyes drooped and he looked sad; almost sorry. “I’m sorry, Pig.”

  Aunt Millie turned the handle and welcomed us inside. Her house was filled with at least two of everything. She had two televisions in the main room, two matching clocks on the wall. They were of a red rooster and when the clock struck noon it crowed. How freakin’ delightful. I meant that with total sarcasm, of course.

  Aunt Millie had two matching lazy boy recliners that pointed at their own television and two bistro tables in her small dining room.

  “Sit here with me at this table.” Millie pointed at the one closest to the kitchen. “Alex may join us and he likes to sit at his own table.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I seriously doubt he’s going to join us.”

  “Oh?” Aunt Millie placed a plate of warm pancakes in front of me. There were fresh strawberries and homemade syrup on top of them. My mouth salivated. When was the last time I ate? “He is my star pupil at school and he also lives next door to me, so I suggest you peacefully coexist.”

  “I would like to, believe me, but he’s awfully moody.” I complained, stabbing my fork into the pancakes. “This looks so good. Thank you, Aunt Millie.”

  “Funny you should say that. Alex’s last name is Moody. Oh, and you did an excellent job collecting eggs.”

  I shook my head and swallowed. “Alex got them. I wish I could take the credit but it was all him.”

  Millie disappeared inside the galley kitchen. Her house was designed exactly the same as Alex’s house. At least she didn’t have her home multicolored and it was nice to see she had a TV. Excuse me, two TV’s. Can you say compulsive?

  “Do Alex and Ally come here often?” I inquired. Millie put sausage links on my plate and a bowl of grits down on the table.

  “Yes, their parents are out of town a lot, and when they go away I stay with them at night but entertain them here during the day. Please do not try to touch the cat. She’s very temperamental and you will regret it.”

 
; “When do I get to meet my future dorm mate, Donna?”

  “Sometime tomorrow.” Millie went to the front door. She opened it and Alex crept inside. “She’s still out of town on summer vacation.”

  Alex took a seat at the other bistro table. He snatched my bowl of grits and sprinkled it with pepper. I wanted to tell him that those were my grits and that he had some nerve coming inside and taking them like that. But the anger that radiated from his eyes stopped me. There was something dangerous about him. I could feel it.

  “Aunt Millie, did my mother call to check on me?” I leaned back in my chair balancing on the back legs.

  Pig barked and Alex stood straight up like a private in the military. “Don’t break the chairs.”

  I let my chair drop back to the floor so that I was on all four legs. “Excuse me.” He was a real piece of work. But I had to coexist. Isn’t that what Aunt Millie asked of me? I’d only have to deal with him as long as it took for my mother to get better. She’d never been long; a week, maybe a month.

  “Your mother didn’t call but I’m sure she will soon. Let me bring you some more grits. Alex, would you like some pancakes?”

  “No, thank you.” Alex kept his eyes fixed on mine. He took a spoonful of grits and shoveled it into his mouth. As he swallowed I scratched my fork against the china plate.

  “I’m sure she will get better soon and then I can go back to Florida. I didn’t even bring a lot of clothes; just two outfits and some sneakers. When does school start? Will I have to wear a uniform?”

  Alex dropped his spoon inside his empty bowl. “She is not going to get better.” He declared. “Your mother is not going to change.”

  I wanted to slug him.

  My eyes filled with tears and I couldn’t swallow. There was a thick cloth stuck right in the center of my throat. How could someone be so bluntly cruel? Amber was going to get better and she was going to come save me.

  “How dare you speak to me like that? You don’t know anything about my mother; or me.”

  “You know she won’t change. And why are you wearing Michael’s jacket?” Alex took my plate of half eaten pancakes. “You’ve lost your appetite, right?”

  I pushed myself away from the table and ran out the front door. I raced along the dirt path past the hens and around the lake, halfway to the school. I fell to my knees in the grass. Pig skidded to a stop and lay down, facing me.

  Aunt Millie hadn’t defended me. She’d said nothing. Alex could’ve told me I was an ugly toad and she would’ve sat their passively. What did he, like, own the school? She was my aunt. Aunts were supposed to stand by their nieces not the kids next door with absent parents. Well, I guess Alex and I weren’t too different. His folks left him, too. At least he knew they were coming back. What about mine? I hated to admit it, but the reason his words stung so badly was because I really did think my mother’s recovery was hopeless.

  “It’s the truth,” Alex whispered. I jumped. “You feel like she is not going to come back.” I closed my eyes and counted slowly to ten. I didn’t want to lose my temper. This was Alex, Aunt Millie’s star pupil. I needed to be respectful even though he obviously had zero manners.

  Screw politeness.

  “Were you raised with the chickens?” I snapped. “Because you sure cluck a lot about things you don’t know.” I climbed up and stomped farther away from the two cottages.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Alex. He kept rhythm with each step I took. Why would he follow me? Did he have his axe with him? Was he going to chop off my head, too?

  Alex chuckled. His eyes danced.

  I flipped my hair and picked up speed. To the left of the school was a forest. I raced inside, hoping he wouldn’t follow but he did. So I stopped abruptly and Alex plowed into the back of me.

  He screamed.

  Just like a little girl would have.

  My skin throbbed and for a split moment I could almost feel his pain. My fingers twitched and I wanted to touch him again. I felt like a junkie. Alex pulled off his jacket and tossed it at me. The whites of his eyes were red and he stormed out of the woods.

  “Stop touching me! How many times do I have to tell you?”

  He disappeared around the corner.

  I shook my head. Alex was insane. What if something horrible had happened to him and he didn’t like being touched? Maybe I was bringing up old nightmares of his. What had happened to him to make him so cold? I bent down and picked up his jacket. The weather was freezing. Tripling up was exactly what I needed.

  Pig barked. I looked down at the black and white dog and smiled. “Why can’t I pet you or the cat? What happened to you guys? What about Alex? Is there something I’m missing?” I knelt and Pig backed up. “I’m not going to touch you and don’t you dare growl at me.” I pointed my finger in his face.

  Pig crept closer. He was only a few inches away. I could feel the heat his skin gave off. He panted and stared at the two cottages. “Do you want to go home?” Pig jumped to his feet and wagged his little nub. He barked excitedly. “I guess I can check out the woods tomorrow.”

  We jogged back to the cottages and Pig pushed his head against Aunt Millie’s front door. He entered the galley kitchen and sat. Aunt Millie scraped scrambled eggs from a skillet into his dog dish.

  A Himalayan cat sauntered over to Millie next. She meowed and turned in a circle. On top of the bistro table where Alex had eaten his breakfast was a cat bowl. Millie scraped more scrambled eggs into her dish.

  “They eat eggs?” I blurted, sitting down in one of the recliners in the living room. “I’ve never seen a cat eat eggs before. A dog, yes, but a cat—”

  “Please understand, Alex and Ally aren’t like most teenagers their age. They’re gifted; highly intelligent and seem a bit eccentric to those of lesser intellect.”

  I was beginning to think Millie thought I was an idiot. Some, brain dead, noncreative nobody without a clue to what was going on around me.

  “Intelligence does not give a person the right to be cruel. I will try my best to stay out of his way. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “Thank you,” Aunt Mille grinned. “Mind the cat.” I rolled my eyes. What was with them and the cat? She looked sweet enough. Pig wasn’t too terrible. He was a little weird but nothing too major to really concern yourself with. I studied the cat. What did they call her? I think her name was Rat.

  “Psst, Rat, do you have rabies? Is that why everyone is afraid of you?” Pig growled at me. “Sorry, Pig, but if I don’t laugh I just may cry.” I rocked myself in the recliner until I fell asleep.

  Five

  “You Better Hurry Home”

  I was dreaming about my mother bursting through the front door in an Eskimo suit, arms raised and singing. “I’m cured, Lisa; can you believe it? Let’s go home!”

  “That’s great, mom,” I said, grabbing my brown box. “I’ve been ready to leave since I got here!”

  Cold ice slid down my arm. I jumped up. My heart pounded and I gasped. Michael stood in front of me. He doubled over and laughed hysterically. Pig barked and stood in between the two of us. My dog didn’t seem too concerned with Michael.

  “What are you doing here?” I wiped melted ice from my arm. I looked up and spotted a clean chin. He’d shaved. I thought the goatee had looked nice on him. It was easier to see his lips, though, and they were thick and full. He smelled nice, too.

  “I pick up Millie’s eggs during the summer for my mother and take them into town.”

  “Are you wearing cologne?” I stood up and sniffed him. “You are! Michael you smell nice. What is it?” His face burned red.

  “Just Axe from the grocery store. It’s no big deal.” He disappeared inside the kitchen. “You, on the other hand, stink horribly.”

  I covered my mouth and raced down the hall to the nearest bathroom. I dug around in Millie’s medicine cabinet for a toothbrush. It wasn’t like me to not worry about hygiene. It wasn’t like me to sniff people, either. Pig
scratched his paw against the door. I opened it and let him inside.

  After I brushed my teeth and took a shower, I realized that I didn’t have anything to wear. I cracked the door slightly. “Aunt Millie?”

  “She isn’t here,” Michael answered. What was he still doing at the house?

  “Could you, um, do me a favor, please?” I took a deep breath. Michael trudged down the hallway. He leaned against the opposite wall. I could see him through the tiny crack of the opened door. “I forgot my clothes. They’re next door in a box by the bed in the first room on the left.”

  Michael cleared his throat. “I am not allowed to enter their house.”

  “Geez, Michael. Why not? I need my clothes. Can’t you knock on their door or something?”

  “I guess I could try. I’ll be right back.” He stopped, chuckling softly. “You could just wear my ski jacket.”

  “Not funny,” I smiled. “Please just go get my clothes.”

  A few minutes later, he dropped my box by the bathroom door. I wrapped myself in a towel and snatched it. What was the matter with me? Why didn’t I bring more clothes? So what if they weren’t warm. I think maybe it was a way for me to not accept that I was being deserted by Amber. It was one thing when my dad left, but my mom, too? Sometimes I couldn’t understand people. They were so complicated, yet at the same time always predictable. Alex certainly wasn’t; predictable, I mean. He was definitely complicated.

  “You should dry your hair. It’s cold outside.”

  “Why? Where do you think I am going to go?”

  “Oh, you’re going out with me, of course. I’m taking you to a party.”

  “Not with kids from C I N, right?” I gulped. Did I forget to bring make-up too? I did. Maybe Ally had some somewhere and would let me borrow it. That is, if she ever came home long enough for me to ask.

  “Sure, of course, I don’t know anyone else except from school.” Michael sprawled out in a recliner. “So, hurry up and dry your hair. It’s a long walk from here through the woods.”