Family of the Fox, #1

by F. M. Isaacs

We all sat around the living room. Grandpa Brian brought Grandma Felicia over to discuss what had transpired. He spoke proudly of how I'd acted, and I reddened in embarrassment.

  But having everyone around gave me another chance to think. Again, why hadn't I mentioned Allen to my parents? He had asked me not to, but I could have told them everything else about him other than the fact that he could transform. From the beginning, maybe there was just something too strange about him for me to understand, let alone to tell my parents about. It seemed like confusion and secrecy had flowed both ways between my family and me.

  “Ah, if we just had Ron and Robin here, it would be like old times,” Grandma Felicia opined, stirring me from my thoughts.

  Old times. Just the tone of Grandma Felicia's voice made me yearn to experience the long-ago events that I had never witnessed. But maybe I could peer in at them, now that I could time travel.

  “I'm so thrilled that Corinne inherited changer abilities,” Grandpa Brian continued. “I think your grandmother would enjoy it if you change for her, Corinne.”

  Grandma Felicia clapped her hands together excitedly, eyes bright. “Oh, please! I'd love it!”

  Why did I feel like a circus act? “Maybe later,” I uttered.

  “Do it!” Daniel begged. “But I get to choose what she becomes!” he added in a mischievous voice. “Be a backpack, Corinne!”

  “Shut up, Daniel,” I shot back.

  Grandma Felicia kept on. “Oh, Corinne, please? You know, the first thing your mother became for me was a cut flower. She turned into a pretty rose, and I put her in a vase of water.”

  Her comment struck me as so weird that my mouth fell open a bit. Yet she seemed so elated that I refrained from making any comments. I couldn’t really think of one to make, anyway.

  My mother blushed. “Daniel, Mom, leave her alone.” She brought over more hot water for tea and refilled Grandma Felicia's cup. I was glad Mom was defending me now instead of yelling at me.

  “Thanks, Patricia.” My grandmother gave me her “I'll-get-back-to-this-with-you-later” look and I cringed.

  I hated the way everyone was just sitting around, calmly drinking tea. So much more needed to be said! We had almost died! History could have been rewritten!

  “I'm sorry you were a cow, Mom,” I blurted out. “I feel so awful that Allen did that to you.”

  She chuckled. “You think that it's the first time?”

  Really? Just...really? “Oh, God, you've been a cow before? Why?”

  She sat down beside me, a gentle smile on her face. “Corinne, your grandfather's right. You're the same way I was in the beginning. The whole idea of transforming seemed so freakish to me. I didn't want to do it. I thought it was scary and I was afraid I would die. My dad had to push me to do it.”

  “I turned her into a cat,” Grandpa Brian contributed, taking a swig of his tea.

  “Yes. And he made me change myself back.”

  “But still, a cow, Mom? That's just...demeaning.”

  Mom poured some water for herself and selected a tea bag from the bowl on the table. She gestured knowingly at Grandpa Brian, who responded, “She'll learn.”

  As the conversation turned to other topics, I was so tired that I started tuning out. My eyes were closing of their own accord, but Grandma Felicia pulled me right back in.

  “What made him go after you, Corinne? How did he manage to work his way into your school?”

  “He suspected I was special,” I replied in a monotone. “He had a feeling I was a changer.” I yawned so deeply that it hurt my mouth.

  “He was watching you and Matthew,” Daniel contributed. “When we'd change, he'd often check you guys out. I wanted him to change you, but we couldn't let you know his secret.”

  “But how did he get any paperwork? What kind of security did the school have?” my grandmother asked.

  “He said Mom and Dad know someone who forges documents. Maybe he helped them,” I replied.

  My parents blinked at each other. Mom seemed to search her thoughts. “Max and Craig didn't do anything for him, did they, Julian?”

  Dad shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

  “He's a changer,” said Grandpa Brian. “He probably created most things he needed by himself. Then he pulled a few strings and he got into the school to romance you, Corinne.”

  “Did he succeed?” Daniel inquired, eyebrows raised.

  I swatted at him. “Shut up! He's like our own relative!” Everyone was quiet. I think they all realized I had feelings for Allen. Luckily, Mom didn’t say anything on that issue.

  “I do think he liked you, Corinne,” Daniel stated, now quite serious. “I think he was torn because he wasn't sure if it was appropriate to be in love with someone who might be his great-great-whatever-great grand-daughter.”

  I could feel my cheeks growing redder as he spoke.

  “And he was a bit off on the schooling explanation,” Grandma Felicia pointed out. “If you're in your first year of college, you're not usually interning in schools. I'd love to know what your principal thought Allen was doing in the school, but we'd better not open up that hornet's nest.”

  Even if Grandma Felicia was right, and she usually was, Allen had never discussed his studies. He had definitely improved his English – when I'd first met him, his speech patterns had seemed slightly archaic or foreign. But in my time as a bird, I had never seen him do any actual college coursework.

  “He really did want to teach! He wanted to be a principal or teacher!” Yet I had my doubts. First and foremost, Allen was out for himself. He probably wanted to get friendly with me to see if I could help him at some point. I was an easy target compared to Matthew.

  “Has he changed anyone else?” Dad piped up.

  “I didn't sense anyone when I was flying around, but...” Mom looked up worriedly at Grandpa Brian, who shook his head.

  I answered my father’s question. “He said he didn't. He said 'only people who get in my way'. That was just Owen, I think.”

  “Honestly, Owen Ritborn was serving the environment better as a log. He's more nature-friendly that way,” Dad commented with a twinkle in his eye.

  A low chortle rolled over the room. Things were okay again.

  I studied my family around me and noticed that if I scrunched my eyes up just the right way, I could see that both of my grandparents were surrounded by a very slight aura.

  Mom caught my gaze. “You see it, don't you?”

  “They have auras,” I breathed.

  “How do you think eighty and ninety-year-olds look so great?” Grandma Felicia gave a hearty laugh.

  “Uh-huh,” I responded, recalling how Allen had had a slight aura too. He'd been fooling me from the very beginning.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  When Matthew heard everything that had occurred, he collapsed back in his chair, staring at Mom and me in awe. “So, like, you can make me into anything?”

  Mom nodded.

  “Say I wanted to be...um...a jet plane?”

  Shaking her head, my mother urged him up from the table. “Well, I wouldn't go full-scale on that. People might notice an airplane appearing in my backyard. Put your plates in the sink.”

  “So how about a model airplane?”

  Dismissively, she replied, “Matthew, we'll change you into whatever you want. But right now, I have to wash the dishes.”

  Matthew followed me upstairs. He watched me finger the green dress that Allen had created. I had rescued it from the far corners of my closet, and somehow, holding the garment in my hand provided a bit of comfort. In a small way, I imagined that Allen was forgiving me for bringing him back.

  “Turn me into a model airplane,” my brother suddenly demanded of me.

  He looked cool up on my dresser.

  I PLANNED TO PUT THE final pieces of my family's story together by having discussions with several relatives and friends. Uncle Jonas would probably help the most. Before I could go visit him, however, my mother laid o
ut the rules of teleportation.

  “You call first, ask if anyone's around and make sure the person is ready for your visit. Make sure 'the coast is clear', and only then do you teleport.”

  So, when “the coast was clear”, I popped over to Uncle Jonas' house, a plate of Mom's peanut butter chip brownies in hand.

  “Nice, Corinne. Are you getting the hang of teleportation more?”

  I held the plate out to him. “I guess, but I still feel like my stomach is falling out of me whenever I go.”

  He chuckled. “You'll grow out of that in time.” Accepting the brownies with a grateful grin, he placed them on the kitchen table and sat down. “So, let's talk.”

  Seating myself across from him, I began. “Uncle Jonas, was Aldous really our ancestor?” After all we had been though, I just needed to know.

  He removed the plastic from the brownies, selected the biggest one, and then pushed the plate in front of me. “Well, the stories have been handed through the generations. It doesn't necessarily mean he's a direct ancestor – we might share a common one. But he had two children, remember. Hannah's not your direct progenitor since she had no children in her own time, but we could be descendants through Aldous' son.”

  I gulped.

  “Doesn't matter. He might be what’s called a collateral ancestor, rather than a lineal ancestor. An uncle or cousin of a direct ancestor, for example. Changers are extraordinarily rare, and yet three successive generations of our family have had them. We very likely have some close connection with him.”

  I blushed a little. I had never felt that special. Now I knew I was, without any shadow of a doubt. “That's why he never got too romantic with me. It would be weird with a relative. Especially if we are direct descendants.”

  “Um, you're what, eight hundred years apart? Since first cousins marrying isn't such a big thing genetically, I don't think a thirty-generation gap would be a huge problem in terms of inbreeding or genetic risk. It is interesting that you might have inherited his actual changer genes, of course.”

  I watched my uncle eat the brownies. They were his favorite, in fact they were one of the first foods my mom had made for him when they had rescued him, so they had a special meaning as well. “Still, Uncle Jonas, I really want to know.”

  “Know what?”

  “If he's our direct ancestor. You did all that family tree research. Why didn't you go back further? There wasn't anything stopping you.”

  He stirred, a half-eaten brownie in hand. “Well, it's hard work. You have to talk to people, and not everyone wants to part with their family information. Then there's the language barrier, which I was working on. When my wife, Clara, died many years ago...” He placed the brownie in his mouth and slowly bit into it. “She was my travel companion. I was lost without her. I stopped the research after that. It held no interest for me anymore.”

  “Sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up.”

  He smiled, patting me on the head. “But I might have a new traveling companion here, if she'll accept the position?”

  “Really? I'd love that!”

  MOM DROVE US OVER TO George's house. I asked her why we didn't teleport or fly as birds and she told me she was too exhausted. Actually, I was pretty tired myself. Perhaps driving wasn’t such a bad idea.

  George met us at the door. “Patricia, Corinne Lisette, come in.” He ushered us inside. His house was museum-like; clean and orderly, but devoid of any color or warmth.

  “How are you, George?” my mother asked conversationally, sitting down on the gray couch. I joined her.

  “Fine, fine. Good to see you both.” He settled quietly beside us, and I studied him as if seeing him for the first time. His dark hair and aqua eyes were the same as when I'd traveled to the 1920s, although there were some silver strands popping up. Had he not aged until recently?

  Clearing his throat, he started to speak again. “Corinne, your mother told me about your meeting my great-grandmother, Lisette. I'm so touched that the first time you traveled in your sleep, you saw her. It warms my heart.”

  I'd never really thought about it before, since I rarely interacted with him, but, like Allen, George also occasionally uttered an archaic word or phrase.

  “You were there too,” I replied softly.

  Startled, he gazed at me. “You...” he whispered. “In the garden?”

  I nodded. “You came in, you said that you were hungry, and then you left.”

  He shook his head in amazement. “I remember she said you were a distant relative. I wasn't too interested back then... Wow. That was you.”

  Mom added, “Lisette spoke with Corinne and made her feel better about being a changer.”

  George bowed his head. “She aided your mother too, Corinne.”

  “She certainly did,” Mom said. “She helped me accept who I am.”

  “Lisette saved my life many times,” George reminisced. “I was born in 1822. My mother, Lisette's granddaughter, passed away from smallpox. It devastated my whole family, killing all of us except me. She took me in and raised me, taught me everything...made me everything. At one point, I almost died from pneumonia. But Lisette changed me, made me a young man with a new face, and we set out on new lives.”

  “So you kept changing to stay young.”

  “Yes, I've been several different people. I like this face. I've had it several times, like when you saw me in the 1920s.”

  “I like it too,” I said sheepishly. “Your eyes are nice.”

  He reddened. “Thank you, Corinne. But, as you can see, now I'm aging. Lisette isn't here to keep me going anymore.”

  “My grandfather can help you with that. So can Mom! I could too...as soon as I figure out how.”

  Pursing his lips, George looked away. “I don't know if I want to change again, honestly. I was so traumatized after Lisette's death. Under-stand that after being with someone for one hundred and ninety years, you can't imagine not having them around anymore. I must have been very hard to live with after losing her – my wife left me eventually.”

  “Did your wife know about you?”

  “No. And as we got older, I realized I would have to tell her about me because I didn't want her to die. I planned to have Lisette change us into a new, young couple when we were too old to function well. But my wife chose to leave me at the time I needed her most.” His eyes expressed his deep pain.

  I let out a breath. “So she had a chance to be immortal and she lost it.”

  He appeared wistful. “Well, I wouldn't call us immortal. But yes, I'd say she lost her chance. I haven't seen her or my stepdaughter since.” He sighed. “And I'm lonely.”

  “You don't have to be! You can start all over again!” The possibilities were endless! He could have a new family, children...

  “I've started over so many times. And not always as a human. I've had stints of being an animal, and I even had a few days' experiment as a woman. But,” he held up his hand before I could respond, “don't worry. That was a bit overwhelming, and I went back to being male pretty quickly.”

  I smiled in relief as George took my hands. “Corinne, Lisette was, I'd say, nearly mythical. People who knew the stories about her weren't even sure she actually existed! I love that you're named for her. I feel you're taking over where she left off. Well, except for your mother–” He glanced at her apologetically.

  “But I don't carry her name. Corinne does,” Mom said in understanding.

  “How did she die?”

  My question rendered George and Mom heartbreakingly quiet. Maybe this wasn't the best time to bring it up, but I really was curious as to how a changer could die if she could “fix” herself.

  “The man who originally murdered Jonas and your father...”

  George deliberately finished Mom's sentence. “He killed her too.”

  “Why didn't she change herself before she died?”

  “It happened too fast. He shot her and she was too weak.”

  I jumped up in surprise. “Well
, why didn't you travel back in time and save her? I don't understand! I mean, you could have done it whenever you wanted, Mom! I'll do it for you if you want!” I cried. I paused, the impact of this possibility hitting me. “My God, we can save anyone who's dead!”

  George glanced at Mom, who looked stricken. “Corinne,” she began, “there's a beginning and end to everyone's lives, including ours. We can't avoid that forever, nor am I sure we'd want to.”

  “But you and Dad save people!”

  “People who died very young. We weren't taking people and letting them live forever.”

  I was nowhere near done with this subject. “What about Jonas? What about the fact that you make our grandparents younger?”

  “Corinne!” George cut into my rant. “Lisette didn't want it. She said she'd had her time, and she wanted to move onto her next adventure. She was satisfied with her life, and she was done.”

  “But...but...”

  “Corinne, leave it,” Mom said sternly. “It's what she wanted. That's just the kind of thinking we had that caused many of our own problems.”

  “Gosh, Mom! What happened to you?” I asked.

  “Bad things have happened in your father's and my life despite our abilities – and some of the worst things have happened because of them.” She turned to George, who lowered his head.

  “Yes,” he contributed, without looking up, “and yet, if not for them, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, because none of us would even be here.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The next person I planned to speak with was Hannah. Entering her house and seeing her and her family made me feel like I'd walked into a celebrity home. Even though I had seen them here and there all my life, they were suddenly new and exotic, and I wanted to spend lots of time with them.

  “Welcome, Corinne. Andrew's going to take the kids out a while so we can talk.” Hannah raised a thumbs-up, and I nodded, staring at Andrew as he gathered the children together. This man, who loved to eat ice cream and to tell silly stories to us as kids, was bona fide royalty!