Woden’s Day

“Hello? Hello, dear one! How’s it going? Oh. Okay. I know you’re excited about this, but please remember you’re relying on a lot of invisible people who have their own agenda. If they don’t want to help you, it’s not your fault and there’s not much you can do about it. I know, dear one, but the Invisibles don’t have a really good grasp of helping someone do a good thing, even the nicer ones. They’re not like real people.

“Oh, I’m fine. No, of course I would tell you if I wasn’t fine.”

◈◈◈

He had been aware that there was a bathtub in the bathroom. In a vague, matter-of-fact way, he had expected a bathtub in the bathroom. He had confirmed that his faux-vacation would have electricity and plumbing before agreeing to come along. It was just that up until that morning he hadn’t considered what he was going to do about the bathtub.

He had spent over seven hours on a train and hiking around Havredete to find a cute place for Milo and Calliope to eat lunch. A bath with real running water would not just be an improvement over the washtub in Hyacinth’s kitchen, it would be polite. Calliope and Ann had used the bathtub before going to bed the night before. No problem. Ann had a bit of a misadventure with the attached water sprayer, but no real problem. It was cute.

He regarded the bathtub. It was also cute. There was a curtain around it displaying a pattern of cartoon kitten heads the shape of bread slices. The floral scent of shampoo remained from the night before, and the mat was slightly damp.

Okay. Right. So am I going to…? Of course I’m going to. Right?

He put out a hand to pull the curtain aside, then put the hand behind him and folded it with the other.

I should ask. I should signal my intention to take up time and space in the guest bathroom. I should find Calliope or someone else who uses human language to communicate and say, Hey, is it okay if I use that thing in the bathroom?

He leaned over the sink and regarded his dishevelled countenance in the oval mirror. “What did you say you were going to say, you maniac?” he muttered.

He folded his arms across his chest and addressed the thing in the bathroom: “B-A-T-H-T-U-B.”

He frowned at it: “T-R-A-U-M-A.”

He returned to the sink and the mirror. He combed his fingers back through his hair, but the nightshirt and the pinched expression did little to improve his apparent mental health.

All right, asshole, he asked of his reflection, do you seriously need someone to come in here with you and move that curtain and show you there’s no rusty frozen water or dead Alba in that… thing? Like when you show Erik there’s no monsters in the closet? I thought you were on this trip trying to prove you could take care of yourself.

He dropped his head and lifted it again.

Hey, asshole, I also thought we were going to start asking for help when we needed it, instead of pushing myself until I collapse on Erik like a goddamn condemned building.

He looked back at the bathtub. …But not about something this stupid. Not in a houseful of strangers. He peered into the mirror, looking for sympathy. Please, okay? Come on. Please. This is different. This is too hard. I need to work my way up to something like this.

He tried to picture Calliope pulling back the curtain for him. She would do that if he asked. Ann or Milo would too, but somehow Calliope felt a little less personal. She wouldn’t ask why, she’d just do it. Here ya go, Em. The soap’s in that little dish thingy. You need a towel?

You don’t need that. Don’t be stupid.

He reached out and yanked back the curtain.

There was a little ring of rust around the drain, but the rest of the tub was pristine and white. The soap was indeed in a little dish thingy. There was a bottle of bubble bath and one of shampoo. A used washcloth hung over the faucet.

“See? You idiot.”

He shut the curtain and walked mechanically back to the study.

The tiger was on the bed, breathing through a damp, open mouth.

“Don’t you judge me, Mr. Snaffles, damn it.”

He removed the tiger, crawled back into bed and pretended to sleep in. When he got up an hour later, he told Calliope he was going to grab a quick bath, and he washed in the sink.

◈◈◈

“I’m just distracted because Lucy’s birthday party is still going on and I’m hoping Carolina Bow will show up. She’s an actress, well, she was. Now she’s running a big cat shelter up here. When I was a little older than you I thought I’d grow up and marry her, but she stopped making movies and I moved on to Josephine Baker. ‘The bananas lady’? When did you see Josephine Baker with…? Okay, but some cartoons aren’t meant for children, dear one.

“I’ll tell her, but I’ll grab Calliope if I see her and you can tell Lucy yourself. There’s just a lot of loud people here and Lucy’s little, so she’s spending a lot of time off exhibit. Oh, I’m sorry. These things sound so normal when Calliope’s mom explains them. She said when she has parties, she pretends the house is a zoo, and we’re the animals. We can be out where people can take photos and throw peanuts, or we can go in any room with a closed door and have a break whenever we need.

“Yeah, Milo is thrilled. He might even show up for the emergency cake later. It’s emergency cake because I made it out of stuff they had around the house after the real cake got dropped on the floor. No, actually. Calliope’s grandfather dropped it. But I really don’t blame the man…”

◈◈◈

The man in the purple satin gown had burst in through the kitchen door, like any good family member. He had a fragile pink cardboard box tied shut with twine. His makeup was tastefully understated, but edging just slightly towards deposed-society-grande-dame. Like maybe this was the sort of person who — minus the loving, supportive family — would prefer to hole up in a mansion with a scrapbook of flattering photos and forty-five cats. And then the murders would begin.

It might’ve been the auburn wig. If the gentleman wished to be truly tasteful, he would’ve switched it to grey or white at his age.

Mordecai couldn’t help but note it was the same cinnamony shade that the twin ladies had dyed their identical hair. They wore it better.

This person is Barnaby’s age, he thought, suppressing a smile. This person and Barnaby have had vastly different life experiences.

(Maybe not as different as Mordecai assumed, but he didn’t know Barnaby very well.)

“Here I am!” Calliope’s grandfather declared through a red grin, waving. “It’s the cake lady! Are the grandbabies here? They’re not napping, are they? Calliope-chan!” His features were discernibly Wakokuhito, but there was no trace of an accent.

…right up until Ann swept into the kitchen in her pink taffeta dress, with her darker red hair and similar red grin. “Calliope, sweetheart! Is that your grandfather? I’m so pleased to… Oh.”

It was a little like one of those mirror gags in a Marx Brothers movie, except there was a six-inch height difference between them, even with the heels, and it hadn’t occurred to Ann to stoop in order to sell the bit.

“Nani shitendayo!” said Calliope’s grandfather, and he dropped the cake.

“Hikaru!” Another, younger gentleman with greying hair appeared in the doorway at knee height, diving to make a daring rescue. It had already failed. Strawberries and cream burst out of the cheerful pink container and dotted the floor.

Ah, thought Mordecai. And we’re back to someone my age with vastly different life experiences. Mr. Soap Flakes, you cradle-robber.

Calliope’s grandfather was darting a finger at Ann and spitting rapid fire syllables at his younger companion. He clutched his wig with a hand and indicated Ann’s hair.

“Slow down, Hikaru. I don’t think…”

“You don’t steal another man’s look like that, Brad! At a party! I’ve got to go home and change!” He turned on Ann with a snarl, the sing-songy feminine voice had evaporated, “Take off that wig, you slut!”

Calliope stepped in between them with a frown. “Ojichan, cut it out. This is Ann’s real hair, she didn’t grow it that way to piss you off. It’s not like you phoned and told us what you were wearing.”

“Dad, stop being overdramatic,” Rinswell put in.

He tugged on his wig with both hands and whined, “But, Rin-chan, this one is my favourite! You know that!”

“Dad, Ann can’t change her real, actual hair so it doesn’t match your favourite wig.”

Ann dipped a little bow. “But I’m sorry about the dress, Mister… I’m sorry again. This isn’t on purpose. I’m a bit discombobulated myself. Is it Fujioka?”

“Fujita,” spat the man in the auburn wig. “Barbarian.” He turned to Calliope with a pout. “Why do all my grandbabies keep bringing home barbarians to marry? Calliope-chaaan…” He took both her hands. “Why couldn’t you give a nice Wakokuhito boy a chance?”

Brad nudged him. “Hikaru, I’m a barbarian.”

“You don’t count, Brad, you’re adorable!” He slid an arm around the younger man’s waist, “You know that, don’t you?” and kissed him on the head.

Brad pushed him back and scolded him with a finger. “You should be flattered Calliope loves someone who looks so much like you.”

Mr. Fujia beamed. “I don’t look like that anymore, Brad. Dumb barbarian.” His expression fell again and he stamped both feet on the floor. “Oh, but I ruined Calliope-chan’s beautiful caaake! Go away, weird kitty-cat! Shoo!” He swatted lightly at the tiger, which was consuming a strawberry. “Oh! I’m going to have to walk all the way back to the bakery… they won’t have another one like that, it’ll be one of those awful papier-mâché ones that’s been in the rotating display case for a week… Oh, Calliope-chan, baka desuuu!”

“Um.” Mordecai lifted a finger. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I can probably pull together a cake for however many people you need in time for the party. If you don’t mind a few creative ingredients.”

Mr. Fujita looked him up and down. “What, are you magical or something?”

“Well, a bit. A bit.”

The man hugged him. “Oh, thank goodness!”

“Do you need me to go to the store?” Ann and Mr. Fujita said together. Ann dipped her head demurely and apologized again. Mr. Fujita grinned and offered her a hand. “Ann, is it? You can call me Raquel. I always have cute boys call me Raquel. Except Brad, but we’ve been together so long, I can’t impress him anymore.”

“You’re an adorable couple,” Ann said with a smile. “If I may say so, you make me feel hopeful for the future, Raquel. You remind me of these two lovely ladies who run the club where I work.”

“I thought I’d never feel that way about anyone again after Kotoko.” Mr. Fujita dabbed his eyes with a lace handkerchief. “I couldn’t love another woman, but thank goodness there are ways around it.”

Ann clasped her hands. “Milo feels just the same way about Calliope!”

The man in the auburn wig blinked at her. “Pardon me, Ann. Aren’t you Milo, like I’m Hikaru? For close friends and trousers?”

She shook her head, then took a breath and smiled again. “We’re a lot like you, but we’re not just the same. I’ll explain it to you, but you really must come into the family room and meet little Lucy.”

“Lu-chan!” Mr. Fujita cried. “I have so many photos!” He narrowed his eyes. “Is that damn barbarian in there with her?”

“I’m not sure. Which one do you mean, dear?”

“That Stephen.” He shuddered.

“Dad,” Rinswell said.

He frowned at her. “I know you love him, Rin-chan, but he’s so damn overdramatic. I can’t stand a man who screams like that. He ought to be strong and take care of you.”

She kissed his cheek. “You managed all right, Dad.”

He set her back gently with both hands on her shoulders. “Rin, I know when to drop the act.”

Brad looked up from the ruined cake, which he was addressing with a handful of paper towels, and subtly shook his head.

“…I was a responsible single parent who put you through school with a real job! Not like that shrieking decorative object.”

“He raised all your grandchildren.”

“And I would speak to him about that, but I sense you don’t approve when I try.” He sighed and spoke a few low words in Wakokuhito.

Rin shook her head at him. “Don’t, Dad. If you want to talk to me in private, that’s one thing, but not in front of everyone like it’s a code.”

“Is she coming, though?” he asked weakly.

“I don’t know, but you don’t have to put on a suit to make a ninety-year-old biddy happy, so don’t worry about it, okay?”

He smiled at her. “You’re a sweet girl, Rin-chan. I might want to change anyway, unless you have a different dress, Ann.”

“I’m so sorry, Raquel. I only brought the one; it’s my favourite.”

“Obviously, I love the style,” he replied, tugging at his. “Bradley, darling, let the tiger clean up the cake and come and meet Lu!”

◈◈◈

“No. I kinda got the impression they were similar, but it’s uncanny. Polyhymnia caught me staring at all the weird people who have married into this family and she told me they’re selectively breeding a new species of meta-human. No, not like aliens, more like Bartholomew’s dogs. I’m pretty sure she was kidding, Erik. No, Calliope was kidding about her sisters being aliens too. I think.

“Hang on a second. Excuse me, Mrs. Otis? If Calliope is on exhibit, could you tell her Erik’s on the phone and he’d like to say happy birthday to Lucy? Thank you very much.

“Oh? Well, I met Calliope’s twin sisters, Terpsichore and Polyhymnia, and Polyhymnia’s family. She has twin boys, they’re three-and-a-half. And her brother Oz… No, not great or terrible. He’s sort of depressing, but it turns out he just misses his sister…”

◈◈◈

He’d still been in the kitchen making the emergency cake, but he kept mixing the batter and allowed the people who lived there to answer the phone. Calliope’s father did so and screamed, “It’s Thalia!”

He had barely begun to explain the business about the electric bill when Oz barrelled into the kitchen. “How is she? Give me the phone!”

Stephen covered the receiver. “Get Calliope, she wants to say happy birthday and hi to Lucy.”

“You get Calliope, give me the phone!” He snatched it and pushed his father towards the living room. “Thalia?”

He broke into the biggest and perhaps only smile Mordecai had ever seen out of him and clutched the phone in both hands. His whole posture changed. It was a little like when he’d been cuddling the tiger, except you could tell he felt bad for the tiger.

“Hiii-yeee! How’s archaeology? How are your bird babies? Find any aliens yet?” He waved a hand. “No, he’s fine. He’s getting Calliope.” He frowned. “Moo, I only bit Dad that one time and it was because he’d been talking to you for like fifteen whole minutes, okay? Look, you always used to tell everyone I was part cat and a kitty will only put up with so much. You know that.” He laughed and twined his fingers in the phone cord. “Yeah. I know. Oh, I know you know. I know! They eat windshield wipers, don’t they?”

At least, Mordecai was pretty sure that was it.

Calliope tiptoed into the kitchen with Lucy following in the Lu-ambulator. She stuck it to the wall at what she felt was a safe distance from the phone and asked, “Hey, Em, you need those oven mitts right now?”

He did not. Calliope put both on and nudged the deranged accountant on the phone. “Hey, Melpomene. Mind if I say hi?”

“Don’t take too long,” he said.

Thalia said hi to Calliope, and then Oz, and then Lucy, and then Oz, and then Rin and Stephen, and then Oz, and then Terpsichore, Polyhymnia and Helix, and then Oz, and then Mr. Fujita and Brad, and Oz one more time. He also put the tiger on the phone for good measure and expressed on its behalf, in a goofy voice, that it was okay for tigers to eat a little birthday cake, as long as it was on the floor anyway.

Then he began to explain the plot of a movie he’d seen recently. Mordecai thought it sounded like Bwana Devil, except Oz seemed to believe it was called Lions Don’t Care About Railroads and Want to Eat Bob, and he was disappointed that they had failed to do so in the end.

He also wanted to know whether Thalia thought they treated movie lions okay, and if they didn’t, he wasn’t going to go see any more lion movies ever, and if Bringing Up Baby might’ve been improved by Katherine Hepburn having her neck broken and her dead body stowed in a tree. “I mean, it’s just a more honest depiction of leopard behaviour, Moo. And I feel bad for Cary Grant. He worked so hard on that darn dinosaur. Ha-ha, yeah!”

At this point, Calliope nudged him with an oven mitt and said, “Hey, Melpomene. I was kinda hoping Euterpe would call and check in. He knows it’s Lucy’s birthday too, and I don’t have a phone at home. Could you wrap it up?”

Oz said, “There is no way Euterpe knows it’s Lucy’s birthday. That airhead isn’t even gonna notice it’s fall until mid-Novem…”

And Calliope slammed her oven-mitted hand down on the phone, breaking the connection.

Oz screamed, not even words, and turned on her. She put up both hands like a boxer. Rinswell slid between them and pushed them apart. “All right, you two. That’s enough. That’s enough.”

“I can’t call her back! I can’t call her back!” He was trying to reach around his mother and grab a handful of Calliope’s clothes or hair. “She’s not going to know what happened to me!”

“She heard what you said and she knows exactly what happened to you,” Calliope said darkly. “The only thing she’s wondering is whether you’ll have all your teeth when she calls again!”

Mordecai paused, torn. As a responsible adult, he felt obligated to break this up. On the other hand, as a kid with older brothers, he wanted to see Calliope break Oz’s neck and stow his body in a tree like Kate Hepburn.

“I only get to talk to my sister once a month when she buys groceries, Calliope! I haven’t seen her in nine years!”

“At least you know where she is, Melpomene!”

“How is it my fault Euterpe is a screwup?”

Rinswell lowered her head and her voice, “Stop it right now. Thalia and Euterpe aren’t here to defend themselves and we are not going to litigate on their behalf without their consent. You love your brother and sister, and each other. If you can’t remember that right now, then you need to…”

Stephen stood on a chair and shook a box as if summoning a cat with treats. “I have a whooole box of cookies here for my princesses to eat while they keep using their words and sort this out without biting or pulling hair!”

Rinswell sighed. “Stephen, what did we say about bribing the children?”

“It’s a sometimes activity!” He climbed down and opened the box. “Who wants to try telling me why their sibling is upset in their own words first?”

“Dad, I don’t need a cookie to figure out why Melpomene is pissed off at me, okay?”

“Calliope is just worried about her favourite little brother, whom she loves and wants to protect.”

“Melpomene, you piece of shit.”

Oz got a cookie, which he ate smugly.

“Well, he’s just worried about his favourite sister, whom he started his very existence sharing a one-room apartment with, and now they can’t do a world tour of cats and birds together because she stole a solid gold baby and she’ll get thrown in a Prokovian gulag or assassinated!”

Calliope got two cookies.

“Calliope is a single mother living in substandard housing and that must be really stressful for her!”

“Melpomene’s dream job involves confronting the realities of animal abuse on a daily basis!”

Rinswell quietly edged away and sat down at the kitchen table.

Mordecai leaned in and said, “Mrs. Otis, I no longer understand the nature of this conflict.”

She waved a hand. “They’re competitive, they get that from me. By the time one of them wins at being compassionate, they’ll have enough distance from wanting to kill each other and they won’t. I wish he wouldn’t feed them so much sugar, but they can always run around in the backyard later.”

“These are two adult human beings you’re talking about.”

Rinswell snickered and shrugged. “Old habits die hard.”

“Calliope lost her job due to sexist discrimination and I bet she’s still really annoyed about it!” Oz declared.

“Shut up, Melpomene, I am not!”

“I’m annoyed for you!”

◈◈◈

“And of course I met her parents — her dad is smarter than I thought — and her grandfather on her mother’s side, and his, uh, boyfriend. It’s weird to say it like that. And I met her grandparents on her father’s side, too, and her great-grandmother, but she left early. That side of the family is a little complicated…”

◈◈◈

Calliope’s paternal grandparents looked like those photogenic old people you see in greeting card ads. For when one cares enough to spend a sinq or more on a useless piece of paper that your actual parents or grandparents will throw in the trash.

Except these two looked like they might actually keep and curate things like that, in a box with a ribbon on it. Grandmother Otis’s use of a cane-backed wheelchair might have detracted from the effect, but you could throw a blanket over her and pretend she was sitting in a rocker. Best to avoid all implications that grandparents might have health issues or die or do anything other than smile at greeting cards and look cute.

There were brief flashes that these two were mental enough to have produced Stephen (his mother kept calling him by his middle name, Marigold), but altogether they knew how to behave themselves in public, and they were already used to men in dresses. They brought presents for Lucy and Calliope and a vegetable assortment on a silver platter. It had been produced by something called a “garnish gun.”

On the other hand, the elderly woman who arrived forty-five minutes after them, with a uniformed servant to open the front door and an improbably long car visible on the street behind her, belonged nowhere near a greeting card. Maybe in a comic book, as a supervillain. She walked with an ivory-handled cane. She had a slender, envelope-sized parcel clutched in her gloved hand. When Calliope’s grandfather bowed and offered to support her arm, she swatted him.

Mordecai caught Calliope’s grandmother edging her wheelchair behind the living room sofa. “May I help you, Cynthia?” he asked her. She had insisted on first names right away.

She smiled at him and spoke in a whisper, “Oh, no thank you, Mordecai. No.” She picked up her pocketbook and pressed it to the side of her face, hiding behind it.

“Well, what are you, then?” a sharp voice demanded of him.

He turned with a jerk and looked down. Calliope’s great-grandmother didn’t even make five feet tall. “Pardon me?”

“Are you delivering flowers? A cake?”

“Yes, a cake.” He bowed and attempted to extricate himself, but Stephen appeared beside him.

“Mr. Eidel is our friend, Grandmama.”

“I suspected. You ought to keep him in the backyard as a courtesy to your other friends, but I suppose he’s less of a hazard indoors and you have no basement. Where is it?”

“We’re putting the presents in the dining room. I’ll take it, Grandmama.”

She jerked back from him. “No. The baby. Where is it?”

“Lucy and Calliope are in the family room,” he said tightly. She brushed past him. Stephen followed her, frowning.

Calliope’s grandmother and grandfather were conferring softly. “I shouldn’t have come,” her grandmother said. “No, no, I shouldn’t have come…”

Mordecai followed Stephen, also frowning, but he hung back in the doorway.

“What is that thing?” the pint-sized supervillain was demanding.

“Kind of a combination pram and highchair, Mémé Otis,” Calliope replied. “My boyfriend designed it and I…”

“No, that thing.” She was pointing at Ann. Ann knew it; she was frowning at the woman with narrowed eyes. Raquel had warned her about this.

Calliope smiled. “A table lamp?” She followed the woman’s gnarled finger and continued to suggest more objects near and around Ann. “A fireplace? A ship in a bottle? An antique phonograph? A pink taffeta dress? C’mon. Help me out, Mémé Otis.”

“Nevermind,” Calliope’s great-grandmother said at last. “Is that the baby?”

“Yup.”

A sigh. “And it isn’t legitimate, is it, Calliope?”

“Oh, she sure is legitimately a baby all right, Mémé Otis. I have a certificate. One-hundred-percent baby. You want to get her assayed?”

Calliope’s great-grandmother smiled painfully. “It’s not your fault. It runs in the family. You can’t expect a child to be any better than the parents. Well, here’s something nice.” She handed the package to Calliope. “Don’t lose it now, sweetheart. It’s worth real money.”

“Sure,” Calliope said. She stuffed it in her pants pocket.

Her great-grandmother winced. “Calliope, do you have anyone to mind you, or…?”

“Nope.”

“I suspected.” She sighed again and spoke aside, “It’s not my fault, I even offered to pay for it.”

“Please stop offering to institutionalize my whole family, Grandmama,” Stephen broke in, smiling grimly.

“At least the twin girls.”

“No thank you, Grandmama. Would you like to sit down? I’ll put together a plate for you.”

“I picked out a lovely normal girl for you to marry, and she wore dresses,” she said. “This is what you get.” She departed via the living room. Mordecai edged aside and observed her from behind a floor lamp. Stephen pulled him out of there an instant later.

“I’m so very sorry, Mr. Eidel. I would say you ought to cut her some slack because she’s over ninety, but she’s sharp as a tack and she knows exactly what she’s doing. I just have to look after my mother and make sure my princess’s feelings aren’t hurt. You must understand.”

“I’ll check Calliope, Mr. Otis, but I’m sure she’s fine.”

She was holding up a glittery sapphire necklace with a smirk. “Hey, Em, you want this?” she said. “It’s worth real money.”

“It’s not really my style,” he replied.

“Betcha I lose it. Here ya go, Lu.” She draped it over the baby’s head.

“Ma!” Lucy replied.

“What’s the deal with that lady?” Mordecai asked, as it seemed like Calliope must know.

“Well, basically my dad’s family is old money, and Mémé Otis was ready to sign everything over to Grandpa and stay very old and dusty and respectable, but Grandpa ran off on his wife and took up with this call-girl he knocked up instead. That’s Mémère. My dad’s a lovechild. Trouble is, he’s also an only child, and so is my Grandpa.

“So, like, she’s got all the money and we’ve got the family name, and she wants us to straighten up and be respectable, but every generation just gets worse and worse.” Calliope snickered. “From her point of view.

“She’s okay with Grandpa running the school, but she won’t sign it over. She really doesn’t want Dad to get it, and Dad doesn’t want it either. She might’ve let Thalia or Melpomene have it, but Thalia’s not an option anymore, and Melpomene kinda doesn’t want the school, but he also doesn’t want to get Dad and Grandpa kicked out with no jobs, housing or pension.

“And she thinks the rest of us kids are headcases, so…” She shrugged. “We’re all kinda waiting for her to croak and see what the will says. I’m not worried about Mom and Dad, Mom can take care of them both. But Mémère has always been kinda sick and Grandpa needs the money to take care of her. And Mémé Otis knows it. She wouldn’t even let Mémère live with Grandpa until Dad was, like, eighteen… Lu, don’t eat that necklace. It’s bad for you.”

“She really is a supervillain,” Mordecai said.

“Eh.” Calliope waggled a hand. “She’s just super old. And she had so much money she didn’t have to be nice, but she never would’ve kept the money if she was nice. I really oughta throw that back in her face. Tell her she started all this by not remarrying and letting her husband be in charge of her, we’re just following her example. But I don’t want to ruin it for everyone, so I keep my mouth shut. I kinda respect the evil old bat, but I don’t like her.”

“Capitalism is a supervillain,” Mordecai muttered.

“Eh. Maybe.”

◈◈◈

“…But I don’t want to get into it on the phone. Here’s Calliope! Listen, I’m going to say goodnight now and you try not to keep her too long because she’s still hoping Euterpe will call.

“I love you and I miss you lots. Kiss goodnight, and I’ll save the real one for when I get home. Okay! Bye!”

◈◈◈

Thor’s Day

“Hey, Erik? Well… How’s the thing with the lady’s arm?

“No, dear one, there’s nothing wrong. I want to tell you a good thing, but I don’t want to screw it up for Milo, so I’m not sure how to do it. I wish I could sit you and Auntie Hyacinth down… Especially Auntie Hyacinth. But I can’t keep this under my hat because it might be good for you too. I just… I wish I wasn’t doing this on the phone and Calliope thought about things like a normal person…”

◈◈◈

It had been a little before dinner the day before, not long after he got off the phone with Erik. Ann had grabbed his arm so hard it hurt. She was the colour of paste, even with the makeup.

He said, “What happened?”

She shook her head and said, “I can’t.” She began to drag him. “I’m being a horrible person and a bad friend, but I just can’t, Mordecai…”

She shoved him next to Calliope, Lucy in the Lu-ambulator, and a mousy woman in glasses to whom he had not been introduced. “I’m sorry, Calliope,” Ann said. “Please tell Helen I’m very sorry. I don’t mean to be so rude.”

The mousy woman said, “I can see what you’re saying, Ann, but what’s the big deal?” while gesturing with both hands.

She had kind of a thick accent, it sounded like Lenape City in the ILV to Mordecai.

“I-I wanted you to meet Mordecai,” Ann enunciated with stilted care. “I’m so sorry. Calliope, can you introduce Mordecai? I don’t know how.”

Calliope introduced Mordecai: “This is my friend Mordecai, but Ann and I just call him Em.” That was what she said, but she spoke while performing intricate hand-gestures the whole time.

She later explained that what she was doing was fingerspelling his name, M-O-R-D-E-C-A-I, and since that was a bit of a handful she shortened it to just the M at forehead height. (“It’s kinda rude of me and I wouldn’t with a stranger, but Helen knows me, and she can give you a better name later if she wants to,” she told him.)

“Sign language,” he said. He’d managed to pick that much up right away, he wasn’t completely stupid. He grabbed Calliope’s arm and hissed in her ear. “Calliope! You’ve known sign language the whole time?”

She took a step back from him, shaking her head. “Hey, don’t leave Helen out,” she said, while signing. “She can’t understand you if she can’t see you. He’s just surprised I know sign. Which is kinda silly because the deaf school is in Ansalem and we invented sign here, Em.”

“Not everyone in Ansalem bothers,” Helen said/signed. “Your dad only knows ‘hello’ and ‘cat,’ Calliope.”

“I’m surprised you know sign and never taught Milo!” he cried. “Why didn’t you teach Milo?”

Ann gave a low groan, paled somehow further, and began shaking her head.

“Milo isn’t deaf, Em,” Calliope said/signed, frowning.

“What about Erik?” He caught himself and put a hand to his forehead. He said the next part with Calliope, “‘Erik isn’t deaf either.’ Oh, gods. I’m sorry, Helen. This is nothing to do with you. I’ve just got two people at home who can barely communicate and I’m a little confused.”

Helen grinned. “It’s Calliope’s house, everyone is a little confused. It’s okay.”

“I can’t. I’m so sorry, I can’t,” Ann said. She ran from them, hunched over and hugging her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Helen. It was nice meeting you.” He bowed to her. “Calliope, I think there’s something up with Milo, but I also think he wants me and not you. I promise I’ll come back and get you if he needs, okay?”

“Yeah, Em, it’s okay,” Calliope said/signed.

“Who’s Milo?” Helen said behind him.

Ann was curled up on the floor beside the bed in the guest room with both hands laced behind her head. Mordecai made sure the door was shut to keep them off exhibit, then he sat beside her and put a hand on her back. “It’s okay. It’s just us. Helen and Calliope aren’t mad.”

“I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to do this,” she said.

“I know, but whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not going to bother anyone out there. I mean, they have that rule with the doors so anyone can leave whenever they want. You can’t possibly be the first person to get upset during a party here.”

“We were trying so hard to be normal for Calliope’s parents!”

He shook his head. “Ann, I know you’re embarrassed and upset, but can you back up a second and review how silly that thing is that you just said?”

She rubbed her nose and spoke against the palm of her hand. “We wanted to be cute weird, not acting-like-a-jackass-who-hates-deaf-people weird.”

“Nobody thinks you hate deaf people. But I’m sorry, Ann. This isn’t silly and I’m not being helpful. I know exactly how you feel and I shouldn’t have teased you like that. I’ve been trying to stay cute weird too.”

“You’re not weird, Em,” she said.

“I am, but I don’t want to get into it now. I’d do a really bad job trying to talk about it and I’d much rather talk about you and Milo. Later, if you want. Is that okay?”

She nodded and touched his hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m a little off my game and I wish there was more oxygen up here, but I’m more okay than you are right now. Please straighten me out if I’m getting this wrong. Does Milo think we’re all going to gang up on him and make him learn sign, is that what it is?”

She shook her head. A moment later she nodded weakly, but then she shook her head again. “It’s so much more… It’s so much more basic than that. Fundamental. We never thought about signs… Em, Milo is scared he’s been talking the whole time and he didn’t want to be talking. It seems so incredibly stupid now because obviously he was doing it so people would understand him, but we never thought of gestures and expressions as talking. Well, maybe talking but not real talking, like Calliope and Helen. Gods, I can’t even make it make sense.”

She covered her mouth with both hands for a moment, and then tried again, “There was a line. He was on the safe side of it and I’ve been trying to nudge him over it because I love him and I know he wants to talk to people — but there isn’t a line! It’s a hill and he looked down and noticed he’s halfway up it.”

Mordecai winced. “Those darn deaf people tore up a safe way he had to communicate and made a whole language out of it, huh?”

“It’s not their fault!” Ann buried her face in her hands, crying softly.

When shifting your paradigm, always remember to pop the clutch, Mordecai thought. He put both arms around her. “No, I know it’s not. I’m sorry, Ann. Having to reevaluate his whole way of being like that has got to be scary as hell.”

“I’m scared he’s just going to stop. I’m scared he’s just going to stop everything. He wants to!”

He shook his head, but he didn’t let go of her. “I think Milo is stronger than that. I can’t hear him or feel what he’s feeling, and it must be so much harder for you to see past that and trust that he is strong, but I know him in the real world outside of feelings. Maybe it would’ve been different or harder for him before Calliope and Lucy, but there is no way he is going to give up being with them. Talking with them.”

He drew back slightly. “Hey, it’s not like anyone fooled Milo into talking on purpose, or made him be braver than he is. You know? Nobody put him out with a quarter and told him he was okay. He really is that brave. He just didn’t like to think about it that way. He was in control the whole time and he didn’t do anything he didn’t want to, he just fooled himself.”

“That’s not so bad.” Ann sniffled and dabbed her eyes with a sleeve. “It’s still extremely stupid of us, but it’s not so bad. Really. It’s just… He found a level of talking to people he was comfortable with. That and the cards, and drawing with Calliope. ‘I can hear you but I cannot speak,’ but he has cards that say that. He can say that. No speaking doesn’t have to mean the same as no talking. It’s a different way of understanding what he’s already doing. It’s scary, but he doesn’t have to be hurt by this.”

“Maybe a little hurt, but not forever,” Mordecai said. “I’m really proud of him for how brave he’s been, and how much he’s done for Lucy and Calliope. But he doesn’t have to do anything he’s not okay with. I’m sorry for what I said out there. I haven’t been as good a friend as I wanted to be. We’re not going to make him learn sign.” He laughed weakly. “Calliope doesn’t even have any idea why he’d want to.”

“Oh.” Ann sniffed and smiled. “She really doesn’t think about things like normal people, does she? But that’s why we love her so much. Em,” she took both his hands, “you don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be here. I’m so glad you were here.” She hugged him.

“Okay.” He held her and let her cry. “That’s okay. I’m glad I was here too. It’s gonna be okay. We can hang out as long as you need. I’ll bring you dinner if you want it.”

Ann sat back, frowning. “Milo wanted some emergency cake. Oh, and poor Helen. She’s been friends with Calliope for practically ever and we wanted so badly to be friends with her too.” She looked away from him. “Em, do you think… I don’t know.” She huffed a sigh and covered it, resting her face in both hands. She took them down slowly, but she still didn’t look over. “Do you think Calliope could teach me how to say ‘I’m sorry’ to Helen? Us to… to say it? Just in case?”

Now she looked at him, but she subtly shook her head, as if she was sure he’d tell her no. “Milo… Milo kept thinking he wished he had a whole crate of cards with ‘I’m sorry’ on them for the trip anyway. It’s… It would be a useful thing to know.” She gave the faintest nod, now hopeful. “Just in case.”

“I’ll get her, Ann. Is that okay?” He stood. “I’ll be right back.”

She nodded. “Uh-huh.”

◈◈◈

“Anyway, he knows how to say ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘thank you,’ but I’m not sure how he’s going to be about using them. He and Ann aren’t sure either. Calliope’s going to take him and Helen to lunch tomorrow, and I’m going to stay with Lucy and make some fudge to kinda subtly encourage them. Also, I owe Calliope some fudge.

“I had to tell you because she can teach you sign language too, dear one. I don’t know if it will help, but if you want to try it, you can. Well, you might be able to use it to talk to Milo. No. Yeah. He might want to use it if you use it, but I can’t guarantee it.

“I’m excited too. But we have to be really careful about this and not scare him, okay? This is a really big thing, and we know Milo doesn’t do big things fast. Can you give me to Auntie Hyacinth for a few minutes so I can explain this to her? I want to make really sure she’s not going to hit Milo in the head with an MSL dictionary the instant he gets off the train.

“Oh, no, dear one. I trust you.

“Yeah, go get your soda. Kiss goodnight, I’ll save the real one for when I get home.”

◈◈◈

Frig’s Day

“Hyacinth, just hand him the damn phone. Please. I warned you this was going to happen. If he needed a project that badly, you should’ve gotten him a model car! He doesn’t have to talk about it if he’s not ready, just put me near his head so I can say something to comfort him.

“Erik? Hello, dear one. Auntie Hyacinth already told me everything. It’s all right. It’s really hard when things don’t work out. Especially important things. I’m not going to make you talk about it if you don’t want to. I know you’re upset and you don’t ever have to justify how you feel. I just wanted to say it’s okay, and I love you. Do you just want your goodnight kiss so you can go home?

“No, I don’t mind. I couldn’t do something I really wanted to do today too. Do you want to hear about that?

“Well, I wanted to make fudge, but Calliope’s father wanted to help me.”

◈◈◈

“Terpsichore and Polyhymnia say you ought to put marshmallows in it! Something about covalent bonds! It’s science!”

“That’s very interesting, Mr. Otis, but I don’t know that recipe and I can’t make it.”

“They’re right outside! They must know it! I’ll get them!”

“Please don’t. I’ve already started making this. You can chop the walnuts.”

“They’re chopped, Mr. Eidel.”

“Then butter the pan, please.”

“I have this cooking spray! It’s exactly the same and much…”

“Mr. Otis, would you please just use actual butter? I really want to get this right for Calliope, it’s my fault she couldn’t have any fudge at the gift shop in Havredete.”

“How is that your fault, Mr. Eidel?”

“I don’t want to get into it. Just, please. If you’re going to help. You don’t have to help.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Eidel, I really enjoy cooking! I’m going to take it up as a hobby when I retire. If they don’t fire me first. Do poor people not put marshmallows in the fudge because they can’t afford it?”

Mordecai clicked his tongue and turned away from the stove. The butter was melted and he ought to stop stirring now anyway. “Why are you always on about poor people, Mr. Otis? I’m sure this isn’t intentional, but you’re making me feel like a zoo animal.”

“Oh.” The man in the striped apron shrugged. “Well, I always assumed I was going to grow up and be one. Once Grandmama got sick of me. She didn’t want me or my mother, but she sort of allowed me on a limited basis, just in case my father didn’t have any more. And he didn’t. Still, it’s all her money and she doesn’t have to have any of us, so I’m still waiting to see if I get thrown out.

“I know Rin will take care of me. Rin is a dear. But she’s very driven and she’ll work for free if it’s something she cares about. That’s why we sold the old house, and we ate spaghetti and pancakes for a whole year. Grandmama wasn’t going to cut us any slack because Rin was trying to stop an evil bank from hurting a lot of people.

“Poverty is sort of a foreign country I’ve visited, and maybe I’m a bit clueless but I’m sure I could live there if I had to. And Rin is a native! She came here on a scholarship! She had to do everything herself, she is that smart.”

“Whereas you’ve been kept by a group of people who throw money at you but never offer you any security?” Mordecai said.

Stephen looked stung. “Why, I love my family very much, Mr. Eidel. My parents did their very best under the circumstances. Are you certain you don’t want just a couple marshmallows in this? My Calliope loves marshmallows!”

“Mr. Otis — are you stirring that pot?” He snatched the spoon, but too late. “You’re going to crystallize the sugar! Damn it! If you want to feel confident about living the rest of your life on a reduced income, you’ve got to stop treating it like a holiday! Poor people do not screw up perfectly good chocolate trying to save a couple of minutes or a couple of pennies, chocolate is expensive!

“All these weird objects you keep offering me are also expensive! Poor people find a simple solution that works and they just keep doing it because they don’t have the time, the energy or the money to be cute! There is an entire blender in your kitchen trash, and I am positive it is a different blender than the one I saw in there when we got here on Tiw’s Day! Do we have any more chocolate? What time is it?”

It was too late to go out and get more chocolate if they wanted edible fudge as a surprise for Milo and Calliope, that was what time it was.

“Gods!” But he was grinning. He couldn’t even manage to be mad about it, it was just too stupid.

“You sound just like my Rin used to,” Stephen said fondly.

“Used to?”

“She gave up eventually!” He brandished a whisk. “We might as well put marshmallows in it now!”

“Mr. Otis, get out of this kitchen and go feed the feral parakeets with your grandchildren before I strangle you and get myself sent to prison because poor people cannot afford decent lawyers!”

“I’m sure Rin would defend you, Mr. Eidel, but she’s more of a prosecutor.”

He just screamed. And Stephen Otis, having ruined the fudge, departed amiably to feed the feral parakeets.

Two hours later, Mordecai apologetically offered a dish of crystallized fudge covered in white bloom to Calliope and Milo. “This is not good fudge. This is just the best I could do under the circumstances.”

Calliope examined the fudge. “Yeah, I think the gift shop kind has marshmallows in it.”

◈◈◈

“It’s funny now, dear one, but I wanted to burst into flames and die when it happened. I needed some distance before it could be funny.

“You know, Milo didn’t even feel like celebrating anyway. He wanted to learn how to say ‘smile,’ except the sign for that needs smiling. Calliope tried to show him how to fingerspell it, but either he doesn’t want to or he can’t. Even Ann’s not sure. I don’t think he’s going to give up, but I let Ann and Calliope know we need to back off and give him some space to feel discouraged. Sometimes the best way to feel better about something is to accept that you feel bad.

“Anyway, Calliope’s father wants me to take him shopping tomorrow and buy real kitchen things. Yeah. I’m accepting that I feel bad about that right now. Pray for me.

“I love you very much. Kiss goodnight, I’ve got all the real ones for when I get home.”

◈◈◈

Sigurd’s Day

“Hello, dear one… What? Hyacinth? What do you want? What?

“Oh, gods, is he all right? …Not that you’d be able to tell. I mean, psychologically.” He put his hand over the receiver. “No, Ann.”

“Is Erik…?” she said.

He shook his head. “No, for gods sakes let me tell her. I have to go get her.” He gave Ann the phone. “Here, hold this for me. Don’t hang up.”

Ann addressed the receiver, “Cin? What’s going on? What’s he doing there? What?”

Mordecai found Calliope in the family room with her identical sisters and the kids. He pushed her gently towards a chair. “Calliope, sit down.”

Calliope sat down. “Mémé Otis just croaked and left me all her money and the school to get even with Grandpa and Dad,” she said gravely.

“No.” He blinked. “Why would Erik call and tell me that?”

“I dunno, I was kinda hoping.” She smiled weakly. “What is it really?”

He dropped his head and blew out a slow breath. “Euterpe is okay and he has a really good excuse for not calling home or coming to visit on Lucy’s birthday.”

Calliope blinked and said forward. “Why would Erik call and tell you that?”

“Because Euterpe is in San Rosille and he just got out of the hospital.”

“What?”

He put up both his hands and shook his head. “He just got out of the hospital because they weren’t watching him and he was bored of it and he walked all the way to Hyacinth’s house in pyjamas and bare feet.

“He was at Our Merciful Lord because he got arrested for being drunk and disorderly, only I’m sure you know he wasn’t really drunk, and they stuck him in the mental ward for observation. He didn’t call because we don’t have a phone and they had a puzzle he was interested in, but it was missing some pieces and he said, and I quote, ‘the hell with it.’ He is annoyed that they have his penguin tie and he would like Hyacinth to go back and get it for him, but he’s fine otherwise and he’s in the drugstore having a soda and he’d like to say hi and happy birth…”

Calliope shoved past him and ran into the kitchen.

Mordecai wobbled and sat down in the chair she had just vacated. “Okay, yeah,” he said.

“Mental institutions always have the worst toys,” Polyhymnia said to Terpsichore.

“It’s like they think we’re so stupid we won’t notice,” Terpsichore agreed.

Rinswell Soap Flakes-Otis entered the family room with her head down and her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me, Mr. Eidel. Did you just say they tried to put my baby boy in the mental ward?”

◈◈◈

Mordecai repeated basically the same story twice more and hung out in the family room with the messed-up tiger while various Otis family members yelled into the phone. (“Call them right now and tell them you’re coming back for the sentimental penguin!” said an unfamiliar voice which Mordecai deduced must have been Polyhymnia’s shy husband. “Those charity places sell clothes or throw them away! Call us back collect, we can afford it!”)

After a little under an hour, Calliope returned and asked him if he’d like to finish talking to Erik.

“Oh, gods, I forgot all about him,” Mordecai said.

◈◈◈

“Hello, dear one. Huh? Oh, gods, I don’t even know. It all sounds sort of anti-climactic after what you’ve got going on there. Um. We bought some kitchen stuff. Driving around Ansalem is terrifying, but Calliope’s father insisted. No, I didn’t get a chance to see her but I probably would’ve made a fool of myself anyway. Calliope and her sisters taught Ann how to ride a bicycle. While they were doing that, I taught Calliope’s father how to make tuna salad for lunch…”

◈◈◈

Stephen Otis had been observing as he demonstrated the way poor people actually chop an onion.

“It’s much faster.”

“Mm-hm. It just takes practice. Please remember to hold it like this and keep your fingertips curled in.”

When he looked up the man was in tears.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Otis. Sometimes it helps if you chill them for an hour in the refrigerator, but the only real way to avoid it is goggles. Would you like to step outside until I’ve cleaned up the worst bits?”

“It’s no fun at all!” Stephen cried. “Does a lack of disposable income rob poor people of all sense of joy?”

“Nooo,” Mordecai replied, sweeping the onion into the bowl. “We just buy sensible kitchen things and use the money we save to go to the movies.”

“You poor, poor things! I’m going to send you gadgets in the mail every Yule until the day I die, or until Grandmama disinherits us all! When is your birthday, Mr. Eidel?”

“Poor people don’t have birthdays,” Mordecai said hopefully.

◈◈◈

“He didn’t believe me. Oh, and we had a funeral for some sea monkeys. Well, apparently you shouldn’t try to teach them to ski.

“Honestly, Erik. Everyone here is really nice, but I’m not sure if I’m going to leave on the train tomorrow or just wake up in bed and have to tell you about this weird dream I had.

“Yes, I’m super ready. I can hardly wait. I’ll see you tomorrow and I love you so much. I’ve got all your goodnight kisses in my coat pocket.”