by Andrea Ring
“Neither do I. But there must be some trace of them that I can detect. They’re using brain waves, energy of some kind. It’s not like they have an invisibility cloak.”
“Another Harry Potter reference, right?”
I steal a hot bite of eggs from the pan. “If the shoe fits.”
***
We seat Emmaleth and X next to each other on the couch and stand before them. We’ve already explained what we intend to do—block any assault on our minds.
Surprisingly, Em is already on board. She no longer wants to enter anyone’s head, for fear of what she’ll experience. I can’t blame her, though I’m sure as soon as the trauma of last night subsides, she’ll go right back to it.
X is amused and sees this as a great challenge. His little face is scrunched up in concentration, waiting for my signal.
Go, he thinks. I’m ready.
I sigh. “You’re not supposed to be in our heads,” I chide. “You need to wait.”
He giggles. “Sorry. I forgot.”
“You forget nothing, and we know it,” I tell him. “No more excuses. For this to work, you have to follow the program.”
“But I don’t want it to work,” he says. “I like my connection to you. I don’t want to be out.”
“X,” Tessa says patiently, “I understand how you feel, but being in someone’s head when you’re not invited is an invasion of privacy. It’s a violation. It’s like spying on someone while they’re taking a shower.”
“Why do you care if I see you take a shower? I took a shower with you last week.”
Tessa sighs.
“It doesn’t matter now,” I say. “You’re only a baby, and you’re not concerned with privacy because we dress you and change your diaper. But as you get older, privacy will be important to you. Your body is private, and no one should see it but your parents or your doctor. It’s the same with your thoughts. Those are private.”
“Tyrion has changed my diaper,” he says. “Jack, too.”
“Because you’re too young to care for yourself,” I say. “As soon as you can dress and use the potty yourself, you’ll want some privacy.”
X turns to Em. “Do you get it?”
She shrugs. “Not really.”
Tessa smiles at me, and I smile back.
“Anyway,” she says, “we’re getting off track. The point is that our minds are private. You cannot continue to invade that privacy. Period. If we have to, we’ll set up some sort of consequences every time you snoop.”
“Consequences?” X says. “For using our abilities? Why don’t you just punish us for breathing?”
“X, you will not speak to your mother that way. No attitude. Our house, our rules. Got it?”
“No, I don’t got it,” he says. “This is like a dictatorship. I demand my rights.”
“The parent-child relationship is a bit like a dictator and his subject,” I say. “Like Mom said, follow the rules or face the consequences.”
“I object.”
“You can’t,” I say. “You have no power to object.”
X’s face goes red. He slides off the couch backwards and toddles over to us.
“Then I will go to my room. This is unfair.”
“Life’s unfair,” I say, pointing to the bedrooms. “You may go.”
“I’m going,” he says, “but not because I have your permission.” And he stalks off on unsteady legs.
“And are you going to follow the rules,” I say to Em, “or are you going to your room?”
She bites her bottom lip. “I don’t want to be in anyone’s head, anyway. But X has a point.”
“Choose,” Tessa says.
Emmaleth sighs and slides off the couch. “I’ll go talk to him.”
***
Tessa flops on the couch and puts her head in her hands.
“Is this what the next eighteen years are gonna be like?”
I sit next to her and stroke her back. “Sometimes. A lot of times. Yes.”
She laughs. “This is how you were as a kid, isn’t it? You were a little butthole, too.”
“Butthole?” I say with a laugh. “Seriously?”
She grins. “I love that word. It’s so funny. And perfect for the situation, I think.”
“I was thinking pistol.”
“My grandfather used to call Matty a corker. Every time he got in trouble, Grandpa would laugh and say, ‘That Matty. What a corker.’”
“It’s just stages we all go through. When we’re learning the rules, we tend to apply them very strictly. Everything’s black or white according to the rules. It takes some growing up to see the shades of gray.”
Tessa smiles. “You still have trouble with shades of gray.”
“But not because of someone else’s rules,” I say. “Because of my rules.”
“You’re so sure you’re right.”
“I think part of that comes from the types of decisions I have to make. When it comes to life and death, I have to be right. I have to be confident that I’m right.”
“Harry Potter’s not life and death, Thomas,” she says, rolling her eyes.
I smile. “Maybe not. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
Tessa leans her head on my shoulder.
“We only have a few hours until Jack’s naming ceremony,” she reminds me. “And we haven’t decided.”
“Dang. I was hoping to go to the hospital and check on Calyx.”
“Can’t he wait? You’re not gonna be working this week, or probably for the next few weeks, with the building blown up. You can spend all day at the hospital.”
“You’re right,” I say. “Okay. Let’s pick a name for a X.”
I want to pick my own name! X screams in our heads.
Tessa lifts her head and looks at me. “Butthole Van Zandt works for me.”
I laugh.
X growls in our heads.
Then the two little minxes appear, X looking apoplectic and Em sheepish.
“I will be Hulk,” he says, planting his hands on his hips. “And that is final.”
Tessa stands and walks over to them. She picks X up and snuggles him.
“Hulk is not an acceptable name,” she says. “I like the sentiment, but you’ll be made fun of. Only a cartoon character has the name Hulk.”
I wiggle my fingers at Em, and she waddles over and crawls into my lap.
“I like Toyota,” she says. “To-yo-ta. It’s a fun word to say.”
“Toyota is not a cool car,” X says. “Porsche is cool. I could be Porsche.”
“Portia, with a different spelling, is a girl’s name,” I say.
“So?” he says.
I shrug. “Good point. Gender references don’t have to be taken into account. But let’s really think about this. You need a name that connotes strength and intelligence. It should be unique, but not so unique that people have trouble spelling it or understanding it, and Mom and I want it to be a socially acceptable name, so that you’re not bullied. Sound okay so far?”
X nods.
“Do you like the nickname X? We could pick a name that starts with X, so you really don’t have to change anything.”
“X has been acceptable,” he says, “but I have a new life. I would like a new name to go with it.”
“How about Dylan?” Tessa suggests. “Or Logan. I always liked those names.”
“Or Alexander,” I say.
“I want one syllable,” X says. “One syllable is strong. Bob. Bill. Tom. Hulk. See how strong they sound?” He scratches his elbow. “Maybe I could be named after an object, like Television, or Jet.”
“Television’s not one syllable,” Em says.
“I don’t think this discussion is getting us anywhere,” Tessa says. “Tell you what? Dad and I will pick ten names. And then you can pick your name from that list. In fact, you can keep it a secret and let everyone know your choice at the ceremony tonight.”
“I can do that?” he says. “Announce my own name?”
“Yes.” Tessa
sets X down on his feet and pats his behind. “Now you guys go play, and Dad and I will come up with a list. We’ll let you know when we’re ready.”
***
“How are you and I gonna come up with a list of ten names?” I ask Tessa. “We can’t agree on one.”
“You pick five, and I’ll pick five,” she says simply.
“But what if we don’t like each other’s choices?”
“We won’t. We already know that. But I chose to marry you, so how bad could your choice of names be? Just know that if you put Norbert on the list, you’re sleeping on the couch.”
I laugh. “Fine. Do you already have yours?”
“Yep. You?”
“No. I need to do some research. Give me twenty minutes.”
I get my laptop and go to a baby name site. Need a male name, one syllable.
Zeke
Yak (seriously?)
Ralph
No, no, and no.
As I’m deciding on my last name, Tessa hands me her list:
Ajax, powerful eagle
Hyperion, one who goes over
Maximus, the great
Gabriel, God’s bravest man
Fletcher, one who feathers arrows
“See, they all can have one-syllable nicknames,” she says, pointing.
“I didn’t write down the meaning,” I say. “Should I go back and do that?”
“It’s up to you.”
I decide not to bother, add my final entry, and hand her my list:
Dexter (Dex)
Nix
Dash
Finn
Ash
“What does Nix mean?”
“Crimson for a boy, night for a girl.”
“Huh. Okay. What do you think?”
“I think we’re good,” I say. “What do you think he’s going to pick? I’m a little worried about him announcing it without telling us first.”
“As long as he sticks to the list, it’ll be fine.” Tessa notices my scrunched-up face. “What? You think he won’t stick to it? We told him he had to.”
I sigh. “Maybe I should have another talk with him.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Luckily, this is a private ceremony. The only adults here are my dad and Erica, me and Tessa, Tyrion and Jack, Kate and Kenneth, and Dr. Sean Trent. Everyone’s like family, so before we’re even seated, I unknot the tie Tessa insisted I wear and throw it in a corner.
Jack and Tyrion decided to raise the nineteen babies grown in the lab at the Morula Center. It still boggles my mind. They sold Dacey’s house in San Diego after he passed away, took a chunk of money from Tyrion’s government-granted trust fund, and remodeled a monster house in Dad’s neighborhood. They finally moved in last month, but things are still a bit unfinished—baseboards are missing, a few doors don’t have knobs, and the kids’ rooms are undecorated. But it beats living at the Attic, which is where they were for three months. I can’t imagine living at the Attic, or trying to raise a family there. I can’t think of a less inviting environment.
“Sorry,” Jack says, coming over to us at our perch on the sofa. “We’ll get started in a minute. There’s just a thing.”
“A thing?” Tessa asks.
Jack rolls her eyes. “Tyrion’s handling it. Numbers Five and Eight took their bracelets off and hid them, and I can’t tell them apart. Number Twelve found a dead bee on the windowsill and ate it. It stung the back of his throat. And Fifteen—ah, here he is. Come on, Fifteen, let’s get in your spot.”
Jack has all the kids sitting on the carpet in two neat rows. Okay, two jagged rows. She leaves us to guide Fifteen to his place.
Tessa leans into me and giggles. “Oh my God. How are they doing this?”
I shake my head. “I have no idea.”
Tyrion finally enters the room carrying three babies. He sets them on the floor and points to where they need to sit. Sweat dots his brow, and he’s breathing heavily.
“You may begin, Jacqueline,” he says, throwing himself into a chair.
Jack grabs a sheet of paper from the coffee table and stands before us. She remembers to smile.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight. Up until now, our children have been identified only as numbers, and those numbers do not give them any sense of identity. We have carefully and thoughtfully chosen a name for each of them, and we want to share those names with you tonight.
“Number One,” and Tyrion jumps up and lifts the boy into his arms, “you are our guy who can find anything. If I lose my keys, you track them down. For this reason, we have named you Hunter.”
Hunter smiles. Jack kisses his cheek, and Tyrion puts him back in his place and picks up the next boy in line.
“Number Two, you are a handsome little devil, and you like to flirt with all the girls, so we’ve named you Apollo.”
Aaron, Samuel, Indiana, Huck, Zane, Axel, Heath, Diesel, on and on, good lord, Tessa’s never going to be able to remember them all!
“Number Fifteen,” Jack says, and suddenly there’s a scream, and Number Fifteen is kicking his legs and flailing about as Tyrion picks him up.
“I’m Fifteen, and that’s my name!” he shouts, pummeling Tyrion with his little fists.
Tyrion holds Fifteen out from his body and looks at the crowd.
“What do you think, everyone? Should Fifteen be allowed to keep his name?”
“Yes!” Tessa shouts, and we all turn to look at her. She hands Em to me and stands up. “This is important to him, guys. It’s his name.”
From his perch in my lap next to Em, X looks up at Tessa. A grin spreads across his face.
A pit opens in my stomach.
“Fifteen, if you will calm down, I will grant your request,” Tyrion says.
Fifteen goes still. “You will?”
“If it means that much to you, yes.”
Fifteen nods. “It does.”
“Then everyone meet Fifteen!”
We all clap. X is bouncing on my knees, cheering loudly. Fifteen hugs Tyrion tight.
I don’t even listen to the rest of the names.
I’m preparing myself for X’s announcement.
***
“Now we just have one more name to announce, and we’re going to hear it from the man himself. X?” Jack wiggles her fingers at him.
X hops off my lap and toddles to the front of the room.
“This was a very important decision for me,” he says.
I glance at Tessa. Tears swim in her eyes. She notices me looking and smiles. Proud mama moment, I guess.
“This morning, I wanted to be called Hulk.” The audience laughs. “But I’ve grown up a bit since then. I made a deal with Mom and Dad that I would pick a name from their list of ten suggestions. Their suggestions were actually pretty good, and I picked one that I thought would guide my actions for my entire life.
“But sitting here, and watching Fifteen fight so courageously for his name, I have decided to do the same. I am picking my own first name, and I will choose from the list for my middle name, which I hope is an acceptable compromise.
“So, my middle name will be Gabriel. My mother picked it. It means “God’s bravest man,” and I will strive to be that.
“My first name will be Free. Free Gabriel Van Zandt. Because I am free now, to live my life any way I choose. I can work in a lab or not, help people or not. We are all free, and I will never take that for granted.”
Tessa stands up again. Tears streak down her cheeks. “I love you, Free,” she says. “I’m so proud of you.”
Free smiles joyously and runs to her.
That’s my family.
***
Dad hands Erica a glass of lemonade. “If we have a boy, it’s gonna be tough picking a name.”
Erica smiles. “I don’t think we have to worry about that.”
Dad cocks his head, and Tessa jumps on her mother.
“You know? You’re having a girl?”
Erica nods. “A girl!”
<
br /> “Yay!” Tessa says, pumping a fist in the air. “Thank God! We’re seriously outnumbered in this family.”
Dad throws an arm around Erica and rubs her belly with his other hand. “A girl. I missed out with Jack. I can’t believe I get another chance.”
“When do you guys find out?” Erica asks Kate.
Kate smiles. “Tomorrow. But we don’t want to know. We want it to be a surprise.”
Erica waves a hand in the air. “I’m too old for surprises. And I could tell the baby’s a girl. She’s already thinking to me.”
“She is?” Kate asks, wide-eyed. “What does she think?”
“Oh, mostly just that she’s hungry. Or I feel her respond to noises and voices. She loves music.”
“It’s amazing,” Kate says. “You could tell us so much that we don’t know about babies in utero. Would you be willing to share your experience, on the record?”
Erica glances at Dad. “Sean has already taken a ton of notes, but I don’t know what he’s going to do with them. Run it by him. If he’s okay with it, sure. Maybe you two could collaborate.”
Kate turns and makes a beeline for Sean, who’s sitting on the carpet in the middle of the boys. He’s got two on his lap, two hanging on his neck from the back, and at least three others talking to him simultaneously. But he’s also got a grin on his face, and it makes me smile.
Dr. Sean Trent has only his aging parents for family, and they live in Kansas. I don’t think he’s seen them in years. I’ve never known him to have a girlfriend. Watching him now, playing the role of the fun uncle, I wonder what it’s cost him to devote his life to the Attic and the Dwellers.
“It’s getting late,” Tessa says, leaning on me. “We should get the kids to bed.”
“Us, too,” Erica says. “I’m beat.”
Free rushes over to us. “Mom, Dad, I know you want to leave, but I would like to spend the night. Em, too. Fifteen says I can share his bed, and Tyrion said it was okay, as long as you return at eight for pancakes.”
“Eight’s kinda early,” I say.
Tessa elbows me. “We’d be up at six if the kids were home,” she says out of the side of her mouth.
“Right. Okay, you guys can stay. Let’s say our goodbyes.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tessa’s up at six like clockwork. She bullies me to get up and help her.
