Matchbox Girls (3 page)

Marley’s mouth went on using autopilot while she scrambled frantically for a real thought. “We have to put the seats in my car. Let’s figure out how to unstrap them.”

“There’s pictures,” Lissa said, pointing at the side of Kari’s seat.

So there were, little pictorial instructions printed on the plastic. For a few moments, Marley concentrated on straps and buckles. When she had the kids buckled into their carseats in the back of her hatchback, she sat down in the driver’s seat and leaned her head against the steering wheel. Then she got out of the car, went to the house, and locked the front door. If she had to get back in, she didn't need a key—she had Kari! She paused at the SUV long enough to reach inside and snag Zachariah's car cellphone charger before relocking the vehicle. In her own car, she fussed at plugging it in and connecting her phone for a moment.

Lissa said timidly, “Are you mad, Marley?”

Marley sighed and started the car. “No. Just surprised.” Missing uncles and strange visions and secret powers in little kids—it was a lot to absorb. All she could do was concentrate on the details she could influence: where they would sleep, what they would eat, how she’d keep them from breaking her stuff. Charging her phone.

She was keenly aware of her anti-anxiety medication finally kicking in; it let her relax and let go of concern over the strangeness of the morning. Without the medication, she’d be a quivering ball of panicked indecision, convinced the worst imaginable horrors were going to happen and overwhelmed by her inability to stop them. Crazy.
With
the medication, the constant nagging fears all drifted away, banished into a distant blur somewhere over the mental horizon. It was just as hard to get work done and bills paid while medicated as it was while crazy, but at least she wasn't panicking about it. That was something. Some mornings, like this morning, it was everything.

-three-

S
ome things, though, had to be taken care of as soon as possible, even if it was difficult. Marley flipped open her phone and dialed the number of Branwyn, her roommate. She had no idea what to say, but thought the more warning she gave of the impending preschooler infestation, the better.

When Branwyn answered, Marley said, “Action Girl, I think I’ve ended up in your plot by mistake.” They’d known each other since before junior high, and by now the old games were reflex.

“Research Girl, is evil afoot?” Branwyn responded around a yawn.

Marley’s gaze flicked to the image of the twins in the rearview mirror, each looking out a window. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

“Use your magic visor, Research Girl!” Branwyn cried. Her voice dropped to a quieter register and she added, “So what’s up?”

“I have some guests that will be staying with us for a bit. Combined ages: around eight.”

“So what you’re saying is: I should cancel the naked kegger I was just now dreaming up. That’s fine, I can do that. Is it the kids of your park boyfriend?”

Marley made a face. “He’s not…yes, them.”

“Where’s he, then?”

“I’m not sure.”

Thoughtfully, Branwyn asked, “Is he at a kegger?”

“Branwyn! What is it with you and keggers today?”

“Guys at work. It’s fun to say. Kegger. Kegger.” Branwyn rolled the word across her tongue.

“He’s more of a James Bond martini gala guy, anyhow, I think.”

“Oh, we could do that. The gazebo. With action figures.” Branwyn paused, and then said with the faintest hint of accusation, “Except we can’t. Because now we’ve got the preschoolers. While he's off drinking all the martinis.”

“Actually, I almost hope that’s true.” Once again, Marley pushed away visions of other situations Zachariah could be involved in. She injected a cheery note into her voice as she added, “On the bright side, there’s no deposit for kids!”

“Strange but true. Maybe we can sell one to pay the pet deposit for your cat.”

Marley had rescued the kitten that now lived in their apartment from the shrubberies under the apartment window almost a month ago and named it Neath. She’d promised Branwyn, who already paid most of their shared bills, that she’d come up with the pet deposit the apartment required herself. Her income from book reviews and the occasional magazine article was so unsteady, though. And it was so hard to get out of bed most days...

Marley hissed into the phone, and then said, “Don’t joke like that when they can hear you. It’s a sensitive situation. I’ll give you the details later.”

“When they aren’t listening to every word you say? Fair enough. You remember Smile Girl’s coming over tonight, right? She has gifts from Europe for us.” Smile Girl, or Penny to the rest of the world, was the third member of their little trio. They’d drifted through high school together, and stayed close through college and beyond.

Marley frowned. “I thought she wasn’t back until Thursday. I mean, that’s great, but—”

“It
is
Thursday, Marley.” Branwyn sighed.

Marley winced. “Oh. Right.”

There was a banging on the other end of the line. “We’ll talk later, all right? I have to run.” The phone clicked off.

Marley drove the rest of the way home in silence, with the kids lost in their own thoughts. Once she parked and turned off the engine, though, that changed.

The girls unstrapped themselves from their carseats before Marley had gotten her own seatbelt off, and a back door flew open. Kari shaded her eyes, looking around the parking lot. “Where’s your house?” The lot was small, with both covered and uncovered parking. There was a Dumpster in the corner nearest the road. Her nearby apartment building rose up six floors, with fire escapes leading from the higher apartments. Neatly groomed flowering shrubberies lined the walk to the mailboxes and brightened up the woodchip beds.

Lissa banged on the back of the car. “Open up! I need my stuff!”

Marley pointed out her apartment’s window to Kari as she opened the trunk. She filled her arms with the twins’ belongings, and then juggled them until she had a free hand to grab her own things. Lissa carried a stuffed penguin.

Marley looked around for Kari, who had vanished. She blew out her breath, tried to look around with the eyes of a preschooler, and then marched over to the dumpster. Kari was around one corner, inspecting a stinking, stained armchair.

“Hey, you.” Marley said. “Stay near me.” She looked around. Now Lissa was gone.

But not gone far; she was kneeling down in the woodchips outside the door Marley had pointed out, showing them to her penguin. “Go to your sister, Kari,” she ordered, and walked after her, feeling like a sheepdog.

Once she got her own door open, the twins brushed past her into the interior of the apartment. Then Lissa stopped dead, blocking the door. “It’s hot in here,” she announced, like one faced with an insurmountable problem.

Marley maneuvered around her and dropped all their stuff in a heap on the couch. She debated trying to explain to the child that she didn’t have the air conditioning resources of their uncle, and decided to go with a simple, “Yes,” instead.

Lissa looked up at her and then spotted the calico kitten Neath on the back of the couch. “Kitty!”

“Marley, where’s the bathroom?” called Kari from the hallway.

Marley ran both hands through her hair and hurried to Kari, showing her the open door two steps away. “Do you, uh, need help?”

Kari said cheerfully, “Nope!” and shut the door in her face.

She turned around, and found Lissa hugging Neath to her like the kitten was a plush doll. “Lissa, no, don’t hold her like that!”

Still squeezing the cat, Lissa gave her a puzzled look. Marley took a deep breath. Then she rescued Neath from Lissa’s embrace. Quietly, she sat the girl down and showed her how to pet the kitten gently. Neath sat in Lissa’s lap, staring at her with amazed kitten eyes.

After a few minutes, she moved on to showing Lissa how to entice Neath to play by waving a cat fishing pole.

It was the splashing of water that made her realize that Kari had been in the bathroom for a while. She went to the bathroom door while watching Lissa and Neath play, and called, “Is everything all right?”

“Yes! Um, where are the towels?”

Marley pushed the door open. Kari stood on top of the toilet lid, leaning over the sink. The faucet ran steadily. She’d pushed down the stopper and the sink was overflowing.

The little girl gave her a guilty look. “It’s so hot. I just wanted to splash.”

“Did you consider turning off the water?” Marley leaned over and did just that.

Kari’s wide eyes looked startled. “What?”

Marley shook her head and sighed. She dragged a towel off a rack and dropped it on the floor. Then she picked the damp girl up. She turned around, holding Kari under one arm like a sack of cat food, and almost had a heart attack.

Neath was on top of one of the tall bookshelves that lined the walls of the living room, an impressive but not unusual feat. Lissa had apparently been inspired, though.  She was almost to the top of the same bookcase, cat fishing pole clenched between her teeth. Near the top, she’d paused to look at the books on the high shelf, and with a frightening clarity, Marley could see her grip slipping.

Still holding Kari under her other arm, she dove forward. She wasn’t anywhere near close enough when Lissa’s grip slipped entirely and she fell backward, clutching a book in one hand.

Pain spiked in Marley’s head as she stumbled. Lissa seemed to rotate mid-fall, so that she was oriented feet down, rather than head down. Marley had seen Neath do the same thing, but this didn’t seem nearly as coordinated.

Lissa thumped to the floor on both feet and then fell onto her butt. “Ow,” she said, spitting out the cat fishing pole. Then she inspected the book she’d grabbed. “Uncle read this to us!” she said, and looked up. Her grin faded as she saw Marley on her knees.

Marley released Kari and fell to one side. She rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for her racing heart to slow down. “This is crazy. How do kids survive childhood?” She thought about that. “How do
parents
survive childhood?”

“I’m sorry, Marley,” cried Lissa. “Look, I’m being good.” She scrambled over to the couch where Marley had left her and sat down again. “Kari, you clean up your mess! Don’t you make Marley angry.” She hugged her penguin.

Kari grumbled something and went back to the bathroom. Before Marley could roll to her feet and follow her, because she suspected good intentions meant
nothing
, Kari reappeared again, holding a medicine bottle.

“Are you sick, Marley?” She shook it and a few remaining pills rattled.

Marley grabbed it away from her. “No. Those are so I don’t get sick.” She thought about that and then added, “And they’re only for me. You don’t take any medicine, pills, or candy in this house that I don’t give you, all right?”

Kari gave her a quiet look and nodded once. Then she went past Marley to climb onto the couch and sit beside Lissa. After a minute, she stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Marley leaned against a wall, looking at the two miserable little figures. Then she looked at the apartment’s living room. Three of Branwyn’s art awards had been knocked off the shelf Lissa had been climbing, and she brushed them off and put them back.

She snuck another glance at the kids. She couldn’t make them just sit on the couch all day, even if they seemed willing to try. They were clearly nervous and worried about the situation. Her own worries about abandonment were too different to give her any idea of what to do next.

She went to her phone and texted a query to Branwyn, who had six younger siblings to Marley’s own one. A response came back:
Do familiar things.

That was how, forty minutes later, she found herself pulling into the little lot of the nearby park the girls usually visited, carrying bags of fast food.

It was a pleasant place, with live oaks mixed with palms along a jogging trail that passed some volleyball courts. Hardy grass struggled to remain green in the blistering summer heat. There was a truly magnificent playground, which was probably why Zachariah originally brought them there. It usually had more kids than it did today, but Marley was glad to find it nearly empty.

After lunch at a picnic table, Marley sat on a bench with an unopened book beside her. This was familiar, all right. The only thing missing was Zachariah himself, sprawled on another bench chatting with her, or hunched over a sleek palmtop computer. She usually enjoyed the role of part-time observer and playmate, while Zachariah was the one really responsible for the twins.
Dammit, where the hell had he gone? These weren't her kids!

Marley thought about that for a moment, and then fumbled for Zachariah’s phone. Now was the right time to start investigating those numbers. She opened the phone and looked at the recent calls again. Some of the names were really odd. But she was familiar with Senyaza Corporation, at least; it was one of the big transnational electronics companies. She'd picked up the idea that he had business with them, maybe even worked for them as some sort of contractor. If so, he probably had friends there.

She tried the number, and reached a computerized operator that instructed her to state the name or enter the extension of the person she wanted to reach. She hesitated, and almost hung up, before saying, “Zachariah Thorne.”

There was a click. The computer voice said, “I will connect you to the Department of Special Investigations and Threats.”

Another voice picked up, this one a recording of a man with a faint British accent. “Hey. We're all busy fighting monsters right now, but you can leave a message by pressing 1. Do remember to tell us the name of the scallywag in question.”

Carefully, Marley hung up. She wasn’t sure if that meant Zachariah worked for this Department of Special Investigations and Threats, or if they considered him a “scallywag,” and in any case, she wasn’t desperate enough to leave random messages. Yet.

She frowned, flipping through the phone contact list, trying to decide who to call next. The idea of telling random strangers that Zachariah had vanished and she had his children did not excite her. Who knew how they'd react?