“…were identified. There’s no doubt. Your parents are dead. Their DNA was all over the… They’re gone.”
“You wouldn’t even let me see the bodies!”
“Of course I wouldn’t let you see the bodies!” He shot to his feet, paced a few steps, then plunked back down on the couch. “I’m not taking you to a crash site hundreds of miles away where you have to wade through loads of debris while trying to get a look at what’s left of your poor parents! No one anywhere thinks that’s a good idea. You could travel the globe, taking a poll, and every single person would talk about what a terrible idea seeing a crash site is.”
Crash site? “Crash site?”
“Their Cessna went down two days ago.”
“Oh.” To Sally: “I’m sorry.”
“You just have to take our word for it, Sally. Why would we lie? D’you think we want to haul kids into the system? We don’t, I promise. Seeing the bodies, Jesus.” Ox sounded equal parts exasperated and horrified. “But my point is, you’re not alone. There’s a whole system in place to help you.”
Sure, your folks are toast and they’ve forfeited their frequent flier miles and you’re all alone in the world, but cheer up—social services exists! Lila began to get an inkling of the dilemma—on both sides.
But at least Ox hadn’t simply tried to grab the kid and leave and screw explanations to clueless civilians. So he was either a thoughtful individual who abhorred violence, genuinely cared about Sally, and preferred to talk things out, or he didn’t want a bullet in the kneecap. Either way: here they were.
“So…” He could be really good with our kids. Once he gets in some practice, that is. He’d be a good sire. Tall, smart, quick cubs with green eyes.
Wait, what?
Lila realized they were waiting for her to finish her sentence. “So this ‘system in place,’ that’d be IPA?” Lila asked.
He did one of those awkward cough things that he could not pull off. “I, uh, can’t really talk about that to people outside the agency.”
“And yet.” Lila silently gestured to the three of them, the room, her house…the meeting place. Where they were meeting. Where she, an accountant, and a bear cub were meeting.
And now that she thought about it, in a world with bear cubs masquerading as little girls (or vice versa), having a paranormal social service in place made nothing but sense. It wasn’t like you could put Sally in with ordinary children. Holy shit, no wonder the chick on the phone wanted me to call them! But is that their setup? Any rando can call IPA and report a wayward bear cub? How do they weed out the cranks? And what do they do with the non-bear cub people who call? They’ve gotta do something, because until last night I had no idea werebears were real. So how far does “the system set in place” go? Do people who find out their secret disappear? Is there a werebear secret police?
And then, something new: If there was a fire, he would go in after our babies. He’d never leave them to burn.
She shook off the alien thought—it felt like a suggestion someone else was trying to download into her brain—and struggled to narrow her focus. “You don’t want to talk about IPA, fine, let’s talk about her.” To Sally: “By which I mean you. So you think the accountant’s wrong about your folks?”
Sally’s dark eyes went wide. “You’re an accountant?” This was in a tone of someone greatly betrayed. “Not one of my caseworkers? Why are you even chasing me then?”
“Hey, accountants are important! And I’m transitioning departments.”
“The accountant,” Lila began again, only to be interrupted again.
“My name’s Oz,” Ox whined.
“He’s wrong about your folks,” Lila continued. “That’s what you’re saying, right?”
“Cor-rect.”
“You know they’re alive.”
“Yup.” This was followed by a vigorous nod.
“Okay, but alive doesn’t necessarily mean okay.”
Ox cleared his throat. “Lila, we can’t indulge the fantasy—”
Lila ignored such obvious madness. “What if your folks are sick? Or hurt? If their plane crashed, they’ll have to recover before they can come get you. Maybe that’s the hold up.”
“Oh! Yeah, go ahead. Keep indulging the fantasy,” he coaxed.
“Well.” Sally frowned and nibbled on her lower lip. “I guess that’s possible.”
“If they’re alive, they’ll come for you. Right? You don’t have to run. In fact, how will they find you if you’re in the wind? Stay put,” she coaxed. “Let the system take over, at least temporarily. Let them come to you.”
“…maaaaaybe.”
“Great!” Ox was on his feet. “Excellent plan.”
Not really. But it would suit in the short-term. Even better, it would empty her house. She had a box of eyes to polish and an herb garden to plant and it wouldn’t hurt to test all the smoke alarms again and she really should get around to having babies one of these days. Or this month. Sure, because then she wouldn’t be too big during the hot summer months or during the worst part of winter. An autumn baby. Which was perfect, because she loved autumn. Maybe she’d even.
Um.
Name it. Autumn?
“Yes? We’re all in agreement?” He looked around the room as if Lila actually had a vote. “So that’s settled.”
“Okay, but I’m not waitin’ around too long,” Sally warned. Lila doubted the man was listening; he seemed to be all about short-term solutions.
“Great, good. C’mon, honey, we’ve imposed on Lila long enough.”
That, she thought, was true yesterday. And they’re still not out the door. Though the signs of departure look promising. Also, I might be having a series of small strokes.
“Thanks for the pizza,” Sally said, her small hand swallowed in Ox’s much larger one. “And for listening to me.”
“Sure.” Lila couldn’t think of anything to thank Sally for, so she kept quiet.
“You’re the first one of your kind I’ve spent any real time with.”
“Okay.”
“I can’t wait to tell my folks!” the child added. “They’ll be so surprised.”
“Okay.”
“Great seeing you again,” Ox added.
“It
