these men everywhere in dark suits and black cars. It’s really spooky”.
“FBI?” Mr. Blair asked. Donna shrugged.
“What were they doing?” her mother asked, frowning.
“I don’t know, nothing, just staring at people,” Donna said.
Her mother’s frown only deepened. Donna shrugged again then turned and headed up the hall and upstairs with Cassie following. Felicity Blair looked at her husband, who’d put his paper down. “Edward?” she asked and he too just shrugged.
Donna led Cassie into her room, closing the door behind them. As her friend flopped down on her bed - a single bed much to Donna’s displeasure, and something her parents refused to budge on regardless of how much she pestered them - Donna crossed to the stereo and flicked it on. The latest music rolled out to envelope them as posters of band members and hunky male actors looked down on the pair with freeze frame smiles.
Donna plonked down beside Cassie and the pair chatted idly away about school, boys, breast size and, because they weren’t there to hear, how bitchy their friends could be. That was until Donna noticed the top of her dresser, or more accurately the state of her makeup supplies that adorned it.
“God damn that little shit!” she hissed, leaping up off the bed. Her makeup had been strewn about haphazardly, with some of the bottles and cases left open. “I’m gonna kill her!” she snarled as Cassie looked on bemused, inwardly glad that she didn’t have a little sister to put up with. Then again, the little brother she did have was no Godsend either.
Donna wrenched her door open and stomped down the upstairs hall to her sister’s room. “Ninah!” she yelled, barging in and causing the door to slam against the wall.
“For crying out loud, what’s going on up there?” her father shouted.
“Donna?” This from her mother.
Seeing her sister’s room was empty, Donna clenched her jaw and stalked back to the top of the stairs. “Mom, where’s Ninah?”
“She should be in her room having a nap,” Felicity called back, her concerned visage appearing at the bottom of the stairs.
“Well, she’s not, and the little bitch has been into my makeup again!”
“You watch your tongue young lady, I’ll not have you speaking to your mother like that,” her father’s raised voice boomed from the parlor.
“Edward did you hear? Ninah’s not in her room.” Felicity called back to the parlor.
“She’s probably out in the playhouse, you know how she is,” Ed called back calmly. Donna could hear him putting aside his paper. Despite sounding calm, he was obviously concerned enough to be roused from his chair.
“I’m going to check,” Felicity said, heading toward the kitchen and the back door.
“Mom?” Donna called, still furious about her makeup, but realizing that that little problem had been all but forgotten as a result of Ninah having gone AWOL. “You guys are so unfair!” she called sulkily before returning to her room and slamming the door behind her.
5
From her place at the kitchen sink, filling the glass with water, Ninah could hear the ruckus coming from the front of the house. She’d totally forgotten the mess she’d made with Donna’s makeup before her mother had told her to take a nap. She’d seriously intended to clean it up but with all that had happened, it had slipped her mind.
Worse still, her mother knew she wasn’t upstairs sleeping like she was supposed to be. Best she make a quick escape now, back to the playhouse.
Ninah had just reached the bottom of the back stairs when her mother’s stern voice rang out from behind her. “Stop right there young lady, you’ve got some explaining to do.”
Ninah stopped and turned, spilling some of the water on her shoes, while she did her best to look innocent. Her mother didn’t fall for it and Ninah cringed as she came down the stairs. “Ninah, why aren’t you in bed like I asked you? You know you can’t stay up late at night to watch the movies on TV unless you’ve had a nap. You get too cranky and over tired and then the rest of us have to put up with you.”
“Mommy I’m sorry, I just wasn’t tired. I don’t need a nap during the day, that’s for babies, I’m grown up now”. Ninah looked hopefully at her mother and when no friendly response was forthcoming, she added defiantly, “Donna doesn’t have to have one!”
Her mother snorted. “That’s because she’s older than you, and speaking of your sister, it appears that you’ve upset her again. Ninah, you have your own makeup and jewelry, why do you have to keep messing about with Donna’s? You know how much it annoys her.”
Ninah looked at the ground and kicked at the grass. “Hers is better than mine,” she finally mumbled.
Her mother sighed. “We’ll talk about it later, for now you can go on up to your room. I’ll call you for supper”.
Ninah looked up in surprise, fear of her mother’s anger and possible later reprisals overcome by concern for her angel. She thought fast. “Can I just go to the playhouse and get my dolls? I left them there.”
“That’s too bad, you can get them later,” her mother said.
“Mommy, I need to get my dolls, please?” Ninah whined, taking a step backward.
“Ninah, you’re already in enough trouble, don’t make it worse. Now go inside.”
“No, Mommy please?” Her eyes started to get wet with the tears that were now so close.
“Now, Ninah!” her mother snapped, raising her voice louder than Ninah had ever heard before and pointing to the back door.
By her mother’s expression, Ninah knew she was furious and in desperation she decided to change her approach and tell the truth, despite the angel telling her not to. Surely if her mother knew she was taking water to a sick angel, she’d let her go to the playhouse?
“Mommy please, I have to go to the playhouse, I don’t care about my dolls but there’s a sick angel in there. I have to take him this water, please, he could die!” She stared up at her mother in frightened defiance, tears now running down both cheeks, waiting.
Felicity Blair wasn’t sure what to make of this strange emotional outburst from her youngest daughter, and so she was momentarily speechless. However she was used to Ninah’s overactive imagination and she recovered quickly. “Right, that’s enough out of you missy!” she snapped. “March yourself up to your room right this instant before I fetch your father.” She took a quick step forward and smacked Ninah lightly on the backside. Ninah screamed and dropped the glass of water before running, crying, up the stairs and into the house.
Felicity let out her breath in one long sigh and bent to pick up the glass. She was about to head into the house after her daughter when she stopped and looked down to where the playhouse would be if she could see it through the trees that halved the yard. What her daughter had said sounded like total nonsense but the desperation in the way the request was delivered had her concerned. Angels? Did Ninah’s lessons at Sunday school have something to do with this? Shaking her head she walked into the house.
6
Edward Blair rolled his eyes and bit his temper on the tail as he heard his eldest daughter’s bedroom door slam shut. “Teenagers,” he muttered. One day he’d have to have a word with Donna and the sooner the better the way her attitude was going.
Scratching at his thinning hair, he got up from his armchair and prepared to go after his wife in her search for Ninah. That kid was always pulling hair brained stunts like this, it kind of reminded him of himself when he was young. Now Donna on the other hand was almost an exact copy of her mother, serious and refined, though with the snideness that went with today’s youth.
Ed made it half way down the hall when the front door bell sounded. “Now what?” he growled to himself as he headed back up the hall. He was already in a mood, the last thing he wanted was a door to door salesman. As he approached the door he could see the silhouetted shapes of two men through the frosted glass panel. “Mormons!” he huffed. On the whole, he’d have preferre
d a salesman.
He opened the door, prepared to give his ‘Thank you very much but we’re Catholic and we like it’ speech but the words evaporated in his throat. On the porch stood two imposing male figures wearing matching dark grey suits and dark sunglasses, and neither was smiling. Both flashed an ID pouch at him, so quickly he didn’t even have time to read which organization they worked for.
“Edward Franklin Blair?” one asked in a bland monotone.
“Yes that’s me,” Ed answered, immediate obedience compelled by the unwavering authority in the man’s voice.
“Sir, if you don’t mind we’d like to ask you some questions,” the same man said.
“Sure,” Ed said, feeling far from happy about it, but trying to sound cooperative and accommodating nonetheless. He wondered briefly what they’d do if he did mind.
“Sir, have you or any member of your family seen anything strange or out of the ordinary around your area in the last few days?” the second man asked.
“No, though my daughter said she saw some strange men on the streets, from her description I’m assuming it was you guys.”
“What exactly did she describe?” the first man asked.
“Men in dark suits, driving black cars,” Ed answered with a shrug. A ruckus coming from inside caught his attention and he turned in time to see a sobbing Ninah tear along the hall and up the stairs. Ed turned an apologetic look on the two men but neither
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