Killjoy

smile on her face. She was opening and closing the scissors making this horrible clicking sound. Then she held up my new Barbie doll and I saw what she'd done to it. She'd stabbed the eyes out, Mother, and that smile on her face… it was so awful. As I was about to scream,

she leaned down and whispered, 'Now it's your turn.' '

'You were too young to remember exactly what happened. You've blown this little incident way out of proportion.'

'Oh, no, I haven't,' she said. 'That's exactly how it happened. You didn't see the look in her eyes, but I'm telling you she wanted

to kill me. If I had been alone in the house with her, she would have done exactly what she wanted to do.'

'No, no, she was just trying to scare you,' Lola in: sisted. 'She never would have hurt you. Jilly loves you.'

'If you and Dad hadn't been there, she would have hurt me. She's crazy, Mother. I don't care what happens to her, but there's

an innocent baby now.' She took a deep breath, and then blurted out, 'I think we should encourage Jilly to give the baby up for adoption.'

Lola was outraged by the suggestion. 'Absolutely not,' she said, and slammed her hand down on the table. 'That baby is your niece and my granddaughter, and I'm not going to let strangers raise her.'

'It's her only hope for a decent future,' Carrie argued. 'She's already got one huge strike against her with Jilly as her mother.

I only hope whatever is broken inside of Jilly isn't genetic.'

'Oh, for heaven's sake. The only thing wrong with Jilly is that she's used to getting her way. Lots of young women are fooling around with men these days. It's wrong,' she hastily added, 'but I understand why Jilly wanted men to love her. Her father left her, and she's been trying to-'

'Will you listen to yourself?' Carrie shouted. 'For a little while, I thought you were finally seeing what Jilly was, but I guess I

was wrong. You're never going to open your eyes. You asked me if you had made her the monster she's become, remember?'

'I meant to say that her behavior was monstrous, but Jilly's a mother now. When I go back to the hospital to bring her and the baby home, you'll see. She'll be all right.'

It was like talking to a brick wall. 'You think the maternal instincts are going to kick in?'

'Yes, I do,' Lola said. 'You'll see,' she repeated. 'Jilly will want to do the right thing.'

Carrie gave up. Sickened, she went to her room and stayed there the rest of the night. When she came down the following morning, there was a note on the kitchen table. Her mother had gone to Sears to purchase a crib, baby clothes, and an infant

car seat.

'Dreamland,' Carrie muttered.

On Monday morning, Lola went to the hospital to bring Jilly and the still unnamed baby home. Carrie refused to go with her mother. She told her she had to work an early shift at Sammy's and left the house before Lola could question her.

Jilly was waiting for her mother. She was dressed and standing in front of the bathroom mirror brushing her hair. She waved

her hand toward the screaming infant she'd dropped in the middle of the unmade bed seconds after the nurse had left the room and told Lola she could either keep her, sell her, or give her away-she didn't much care what she did with her. She then picked up her overnight bag and walked out of the hospital with the money she'd stolen from her sister's college fund tucked into her bra.

The withdrawal didn't appear on the bank statement until two weeks later. Carrie was outraged. She'd worked hard to save the money, and she was determined to get it back. She tried to report the theft to the police, but Lola wouldn't let her.

'Family business stays in the family,' she decreed.

Carrie graduated from high school the following spring and worked two jobs that summer. Lola used some of her savings to help with Carrie's college tuition, and Carrie found part-time work on campus to help with expenses. When she came home for Christmas break, she could barely look at Jilly's baby.

However, Avery wasn't the kind of child who put up with being ignored. It only took a couple of drooling smiles, and Carrie was smiling back. Each time she returned home, the bond grew stronger. The child adored her, and the feeling, though never openly stated, was reciprocated.

Avery was the sweetest, most intelligent little girl, and Carrie in every way possible had become her substitute mother. She certainly had all the protective instincts of a mother. She would do anything to keep Avery safe.

Yet here they were, five years later, and Jilly was still able to cause the family pain.

'Did she, Carrie? Did she hate me?'

Carrie forced herself to concentrate on the child's question. Planting her hands on her hips, she took a deep breath and then

asked, 'What do you care what Jilly thought about you?'

Avery lifted her shoulders. 'I don't know.'

'Now, you listen to me. Your no-good mama probably did hate you, but not because of who you are or what you looked like

when you were born. You were a perfect baby. Jilly just didn't want responsibility.' She pointed to the chair adjacent to the bed. 'I'm going to tell you something important, and I want you to pay attention, so sit down.'

Avery hurried to do as she was told.

'You're probably too young to hear this, but I'm going to tell you anyway. Your mother's a frickin' maniac.'

Avery was disappointed. She thought she was going to hear something new. 'You already told me that, Carrie. Lots of times.'

'That was just another reminder,' she said. 'Jilly has never been normal. Fact is, she should have been locked up in a loony bin

a long time ago.'

Avery was intrigued by the thought of her mother being locked away. 'What's a loony bin?'

'It's a place where sick people go.'

'Is Jilly sick?'

'Yes,' she answered. 'But not the kind of sick where we feel sorry for her. She's mean and hateful and just plain crazy. She'd have to be crazy to walk away from someone as wonderful as you,' Carrie added. Leaning forward, she brushed the hair out of Avery's eyes. 'Your mother grew up with something important missing from inside her head. She might not be a pure sociopath, but she's damn close.'

Avery's eyes widened. In a hushed voice she said, 'Carrie, you just said 'damn.''

'I know what I said, and I know what I'm talking about.'

Avery got out of her chair and went to sit beside Carrie on the bed. She latched on to her hand and said, 'But I don't know what you're talking about.'

'I'm going to explain. A sociopath is a person who doesn't have a conscience, and before you ask, I'll tell you what a conscience is. That's what's inside your head that tells you when you've done something wrong. Your conscience makes you feel… bad.'

'Like when I told Grandma I already practiced on the piano, but I didn't, and then she told me I was a good girl, but I wasn't

'cause I lied, and then I felt bad?'

'Yes, just like that,' she said. 'Your mother doesn't have any heart or soul, and that's the truth.'

'Like the song you like to sing? Is it that kind of heart and soul?'

'Yes, just like the song,' Carrie assured her. 'Jilly doesn't have room in her heart to feel any emotion that