Welcome to Gaia! ::

2. An Unpleasant Interruption

Carrie inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, thoroughly enjoying the moment. She was perched atop an elementary school swing, arms splayed out at her sides to keep her attached to the chains, her fingers spread and her hair billowing out behind her. She kicked a couple more times until she felt she may fall over backward, then closing her eyes and leaning her head back slightly. Ah, it felt like she was flying. The girl could almost forget the chains biting into her biceps at each backward pass.

Music poured out from headphones and drifted slowly into May’s ears as the objects themselves sat around her neck. She didn’t bother to have the courtesy to lip sync but rather, sang out obnoxiously.

Twilight lit the sky as she made her way to the office. She hadn’t finished the article reviewing the sanitation of a new local restaurant quiet yet, and it would need to be on the editors desk by noon. Simply put, it would just be easiest to waddle into work early and finish the report. Thus the only reason the sleepy-eyed journalist was even up at this time.

She was about to turn a corner when she heard a rather loud squeak over her music. The noise, catching her attention, caused her to turn around. The sound was heard again and seemed to be coming from a nearby elementary park.

May frowned. What idiot would possibly be up at this time?

Deciding a few minutes of investigating wouldn’t kill her as far as her report went, May followed the noise. When she reached her destination to see a teen swinging she couldn’t help but let out a laugh that seemed to echo, even to her own ear.

Carrie could have easily ignored the singing. She'd heard plenty of voices in the last hour or two, and they'd always disappeared into oblivion as the people passed. The laughter, however, grated against her eardrums. She opened her eyes and grabbed the swing's chains, dragging her feet to stop the movement.

She spotted a woman nearby on the grass, laughing at her. At least Carrie assumed the woman was laughing at her, it may have just been her paranoia again. Her initial reaction was to walk calmly and quickly back toward home, lest an attempted kidnapping was on the lunatic's mind. She didn't move, though, and simply sat there, staring.

May collected herself before taking a poised step forward. “What are you doing here little girl?” she asked with a warm smile. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school or something? What’s your name?”

May paused for a moment before offering her hand over the distance between them. As if to shake hands with the air. “Mine is May.”

Carrie peered down at the hand, and back up at May. The woman was certainly creepy, but height and build difference dictated that some serious a** could be beaten if need be.

Ready to tear away and give a swift kick to the face if need be, Carrie took May's hand and tightly shook it.

"Carrietta. I graduated."

May moved to pull her hand away at the tight shake, but slowly offered a smile to make up for the action. Graduated? Did she look stupid? This girl couldn’t be more then 15! She was certain of it!

“Ah.” May spoke settling a firm glare at the girl, attempting to silently relay the fact she was displeased at being lied to. “How old are you again, Carrietta?”

Creepy and a b***h. Wonderful.

Had she been left room to move, Carrie would have done as such. It was quite possible that her size may have called the woman off. Instead, she was forced to suppress the urge to once more begin swinging and whack the chick in the face.

"I'm sixteen," she said simply, glaring back at the woman and allowing her voice to fall to its natural timbre, "I skipped second, fourth, and seventh and my junior year." She'd never felt there was a reason to add 'grade' to the end of each number. People always knew what you were talking about.

May forced a smile. “Well aren’t you a smart little thing?” A sigh escaped her lips as her eyes darted over to the swing next to the one the 16 year old was on.

“Mind if I?” She questioned, but didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she sat down and kicked off her shoes, her right hand instantly going to her heel. “Dammit.” She muttered as she fingered a growing blister. Should have known better then to wear new shoes.

“So if you don’t go to school. What do you do?”

Carrie instinctively leaned away a bit, allowing her enormous personal bubble to thrive still. It wasn't something she did consciously any more. It was habit.

"Write. Act," Carrie shrugged, "You ever seen the commercial with the toothpaste and the mud?" She was, of course, referring to one of the few commercials she'd been in that was still running on television. It was something about 'why use mud for facials when you don't for anything else'. She's quite literally been asked to brush her teeth with wet soil.

The teen eyed May's blister.

I should give her a bandaid.

Mary let go of her heel and wrapped her hands around the bars of the swing. Not minding the fact she was in a skirt, she kicked off the ground and lightly swung back and forth. Oh well. When in France, do as the French. …or something along those lines.

“Mud and toothpaste?” She questioned, wracking her mind for the aforementioned commercial. “Hm.” She paused. “Can’t say I recall it. But I’ll look for it now. Does acting pay well in this area?”

"Eh," Carrie shrugged, simply sitting still as she had lost all interest in swinging. It stopped being fun when other people showed up, especially when those people were impossible to ignore.

She waited a few moments before speaking again, as if this questions was in desperate need of serious deliberation.

"Do you want a bandaid?"

May stopped her swinging after awhile and looked at the girl. She thought about the question before shaking her head and standing up. The sun was starting to rise now. So much for getting to work early.

With a heavy sigh May grabbed her heels, but didn’t bother to put them back on her feet. Tucking them under her arm she turned back to Carrie and offered a smile. “Well, it was a pleasure talking with you.” May spoke softly. “But I have an article I must turn in.” She frowned, biting her bottom lip.

‘See you’ didn’t seem quiet right. As she was almost certain neither wanted to see the other again. “Bye!” She spoke and turned, walking away barefoot.

Carrie gave no reaction. She closed her eyes once more and started swinging, her arms rising as she went higher. She desperately hoped she could forget the unpleasant encounter, but that didn't seem very likely at the moment.

3. The Lighting

Carrie heaved a sigh as she locked the door behind her. Oh, what a bizarre day. First, the strange little kid with the white hair, and then the crazy short lady.

All she wanted to do was go to sleep.

Alas, the teen's brain was not as ready for sleep as her body was. She'd laid down for a good forty minutes before deciding that there was no way she was going to fall into dreamland. First she'd tried chamomile tea.

Ych.

Then warm milk.

NNGH.

Finally, she opted fr the least painful choice, and that which she had probably attempted first. A bubble bath.

The girl slid down into the rose-scented water and bubbles, sinking down so she could barely inhale without snarfing suds. She reached out with her only dry limb and flicked a long-necked lighter on, igniting the wick beneath her little oil dish.

Yes, this was going to be perfect. She sighed, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the porcelain, allowing the lighter to clatter to the floor.

6. Meeting Evie

Evie, camera in hand, was stealthily stalking a squirrel.

"Damned homework," she muttered under her breath, the griping lost to the cacophony of noise in her oversized earphones. Photography was an art. A science. Her calling.

To stoop to taking photos of squirrels for a damn homework assignment bordered ultimate humiliation.

"Hold still, ya little fluffy rodent," she growled, aiming the camera and trying very hard to get it in a charming angle. A beat later a dog barked somewhere behind her, the squirrel panicked and fled, and Evie was left to spew a river of curses.

"GODDAMN SUMBITCH MOTHER BLESSED WHORE!"


Carrie blinked at the sudden stream of sailor-esque curses. Ah, she knew that voice well.

"EVIE! EVIE, YOU HO, GET YOUR a** OVER HERE!" she shrieked into the trees, holding the hand of the tiny thing that had exploded out of her oil burner (broken oil burner, damnit) and destroyed her apple pie.

Nonono. Pollux. It had a name now, or so long as she was stuck with it.

Polly sucked happily on a lollypop, nonchalantly holding the loud lady's hand, reaching down to tug at his skirt, and then grasping her hand once more. He liked this place. It was pretty.


Evie continued cursing, then faltered. She thought she'd heard her name. Dragging the headphones off, she sucked in a deep breath and bellowed back an articulate "WHAT?"

Yup. Definitely wasn't good at listening to more than one thing at once.


"NEEEEEEERRRRRRGH!" Carrie yelled brilliantly, "GET. CHO' a**. OVAH. HEA'."

Polly pulled the lolly from his mouth and peered up to the loud woman, blinking a few times before actually speaking.

"Who's Evie? What's a ho? Why's she not coming?"

"You'll see, and HAHAHAno."


"GOD, FINE. I'M COMING," Evie howled back, though by now she was grinning. She turned to glare up the oak tree where the squirrel was watching with beady eyes, and shook her fist at it. "I hate you, by the way."

Picking her way through a path she made by random kicking, stomping and the occasional hopping, Evie stumbled upon Carrie at last.

"There you are, I didn't know it was you'n I was busy listenin' to music and what the bloody ******** is with the kid, Carrie, did you adopt and not tell me?" she said, eyes widening and the flow of conversation twisting at once as she stared at the pink-haired child.


"No," Carrie said simply, "Guess what it is." She picked Pollux up by the armpits and held him out in front of Evie. He gave a sweet smile and a sticky-fingered wave.

"Hiiii~!"


Taking this moment to snap a quick photo for posterity's sake, Evie arched an eyebrow and ventured a scientifically valid poke to the child's nose.

"Hmm."

Poke poke.

"Hmmm...."

Evie rubbed her chin thoughtfully, and finally gave up.

"I'm guessing he's a renegade mutant and he's seeking out shelter in your house while he plans a rebellion against his diabolical creators at the Wonka candy factory."

"Nope," came the reply, "It's a little boy who exploded out of an oil burner in my bathroom and smells of bubblegum." She placed Pollux back on the ground and he brushed away at the grass before sitting primly on his knees.

"At least...I think it's a boy. It has a p***s." Oooh, the forbidden word had been spoken.


"Ah. Well then, that explains everything."

Blushing violently as if on predictable cue at the forbidden word - really, it was kind of sad, twenty years old and she couldn't bear the sound of that word - Evie snapped another photo.

"So. I'm guessing either...that oil stuff was like some sort of psychedelic and you're hallucinating all of this all whacked out and drooling on your kitchen floor, including me, which brings a whole crapload of existentialism stuff to the fore, or we have some real damn odd s**t going on right here."


This was the reason Carrie had gone to Evie, above her family, Planned Parenthood, and various late-late-late-late term abortion clinics.

She simply went along with it.

"I named him Pollux, and he doesn't have any parents. I think he's mine no--did you ask if I adopted?! Cripes, Evie! I'm sixteen!" Carrie laughed.

"Hi, Evie," Polly looked up and waved, the end of his shirt sleeve flopping about crazily, "I think your hair's pretty."


"That's a cute name. Greek, right? No, no, wait...Latin. Yeah. Ha, totally got it," Evie said, bending down to examine Pollux closer. She pushed her glasses up on her nose, squinting a bit. "Thank you, deary. You're very pink, I like that."

Straightening, she shrugged belatedly and grinned slightly.

"Well, hell, I've heard of weirder things. You could apply for like...hmm. Adoptive sibling or something."


"Hell if I know," Carrie shrugged, "It means 'sweet'. Sniff the kid. I mean, really. My creative juices weren't exactly flowing. Adoptive sibling? Who in the what, now?"

"You're welcome. Do you want a candy?"

Three conversations at once was actually lacking, considering the general rate of speech between the pair. Carrie blamed it on the shock of the moment.



Doing as she was told, Evie smelled the child. Huh.

"Smells like Bazooka Joe, kind of." She paused, scratching her nose and resisting the urge to sneeze. "I dunno, I'm sure it's a real term somewhere."

Taking off her glasses and polishing them with her shirt-tail, she nodded with efficient gusto.

"I would love some candy. That'll be my first meal in two days. Being a college student sucks the big one."

She paused, considering her language.

"I mean. It sucks. Like a vacuum. Boo, vacuum."


Pollux's face twisted slightly, nose wrinkling and mouth pushing over to one side. Evie was a silly lady. It made sense that the loud lady would be friends with her.

"Okay," he said, and dug a few wrapped balls of hard candy from his pocket, "I think the red ones are cherry, but I dunno. I don't like the red ones."

"You b***h, you know you can mooch money from me," Carrie said and, although she had just called her best friend a female dog, her tone was entirely serious, "Or come over. I'll use my mad skills to make you scary foods of nourishment and sentience."



"Ooooh, I bet that's a cinnamon-thing," Evie said, taking the candy gratefully and popping it into her mouth. Hmm. Evidently not. Rolling the candy around with her tongue, she made a face at Carrie and snapped her photo out of spite.

"Don't call me a b***h, ho," she countered casually. "I don't wanna be a mooch...I'd get annoying and leech off you and plot to kill you so I could deviously inherit all your money and live like the horrible gold-digger that I am."

She paused then, looking thoughtful again.

"Damn. I really should come over once and a while. Oscar's not a good roommate. No conversation skills at all."

She was, of course, referring to the three-legged rescued stray cat she'd found half-dead under her porch. But that was besides the point.


"Shut up. You could live with me for all I care," Carrie said, laughing slightly, "You know damn well I have no idea what to do with money aside from buy food and pay taxes."

Pollux had stood up once more, and was brushing angrily at the little smears of dirt on his knees.



"You could always invest in building a secret lab and evil cloning technology," Evie said instantly. " 'Sides. I like my tiny closet-apartment. If I ever need more space I'll come beg a bigger closet from you."

Capping the lens on her camera and making as though to stow it, she froze as the squirrel, that miserable, diabolical squirrel, came romping closer. Her eyes narrowed in pure predation.

"There you are, you little mother fu...um. Fluffer. Evil mother fluffer."

Wanting nothing more than to get the blasted assignment over with, she got the tree-rat into focus and was about to snap a photo when the creature took off, giving Evie only a frame with a blurry tail.

"DAMMIT!"


"Tell your teacher it's an artistic statement," Carrie said offhandedly, "I honestly doubt he'll know the difference."

"Um...my knees are dirty."

"I can see that."

"I need to wash them off."

"I don't have anything to wash them off with."

"Um...can we go home?"

"...because of your dirty knees?"



"I'll tell him where to stick it, that's what I'll tell him," Evie muttered rebelliously, capping the lens and stuffing her camera away. She glanced down at Pollux's knees.

"They're not that dirty. Here," she said, digging into one of her bag's many overstuffed pockets and offering a crumpled paper napkin. "Rub it off and just pretend it's clean."


Polly's face wrinkled in distaste.

"Pretending they're clean won't make them clean," he said quietly. Carrie rolled her eyes and sighed in return.

"We'd better go," she nodded, "but come with us. We have squirrels and cake and a bathroom covered in congealing oil."


"The kid has a point," Evie said thoughtfully, keeping the napkin for herself and blowing her nose with it. She perked up at the mention of cake - mm, junk food.

"Okay," she chirped, following after.

8. Of Auditions and Journalists

Ah, Spring, finally! No amount of words could possibly explain the incredible relief Carrie felt at a lack of frigid temperatures and two-foot snow. Alas, this also meant that her new son found no qualms in wearing a very short skirt. The teen currently sat on a bench in a public park, waiting for an audition and humming quietly to herself.

"Bounce me, Mommy!" Polly demanded, perched atop Carrie's lap with an enormous ice cream cone. Carrie laughed slightly and began to bounce her knees, creating a wordless song and moving in time. Pollux giggled and licked at his ice cream, his hair flying up and down wildly.

A yawn escaped Mays lips as she shuffled her way through the park. A backpack sat snuggly against one of her shoulders bounced on her back as she walked, searching for a decent place to sit.

God. She was going to be here all day long.

She frowned at the thought. Really, this wasn’t her forte. She didn’t know anything about plays, movies, TV shows, musicals, or anything of the such. All she knew was if she liked something. She was the last person who should be doing a report on auditions.

Besides! It was the weekend! Why couldn’t she have the day off?

Shaking her head, she parked her rump on a bench and dropped the bag next to her feet. Quickly unzipping it, she produced a small water bottle and a laptop. Opening the laptop on her lap, and pressing the ‘on’ button, she waited for it to come to life with a merry little melody.

Here we go…

Carrie stopped bouncing the child for a moment, and looked to the woman beside her. Oh, what was her name...May? She peered back toward the cordoned-off area of the park in which auditions were taking place, and then at the slew of mostly-empty benches all of the other hopefuls were perched upon.

Why this bench? Why now?

"Mommy?"

"Oh, sorry, Sweets." The teen continued to bounce her son, who giggled happily, mustered a smile, and turned to...May.

"Hi."

May, who seemed to be in her own little world, didn’t even look up from her laptop as the girl spoke. Instead, she smiled at the monitor, and spoke a soft ‘hello’ as she pulled up Microsoft Word.

It wasn’t until after she had dated the article that it dawned on her that she knew the voice. A frown marred her expression as she tried to place a face with the voice, but when after a brief second she found she couldn’t, she turned to look at who she had sat next to.

“Ho s**t!”

"You said a word like Evie!" Polly giggled.

Carrie couldn't help but laugh. She pulled her son to her and nodded to the woman beside her.

"A small world, eh?" she asked, feeling more comfortable in a public setting, "I'm sorry, what's your name again?" It must be May, right? Nonono, it couldn't be.

May’s eyes darted from Carrie to the small girl on her lap. She offered a warm smile to the child before turning her attention back to the teen. “May.” She informed giggling softly, “And you? Curry if I’m not mistaken right?” She winced the moment it came out of her mouth. Who the hell would call their child curry? Damn it…

Hoping to remove attention from her small blunder, and the fact she couldn’t remember the girls name she cleared her throat and gestured to the girl on her lap. “Your sister?”

Damnit, it was May.

"Carrie," the teen said with a smile, and then looked down at Pollux, "Ah...no. My...son. Kinda." She laughed nervously.

"Hi, May, nice to meet you!"

Carrie! Oh dear god, it was Carrie!

Oh well. 10 points for being close.

Perhaps though, what really got to May was the fact that the little…child…on Carries lap was her son. Son. Which implied…she was a mother.

Didn’t she say she was only 16? And even if she was a teenage mother, the child on her lap seemed much to old for her to have.

“Um…son?”

SON! DEAR GOD! THAT MEANT IT WAS A BOY!

She almost wanted to slap herself for the slow realization!

But-but! Its in a skirt!! A mini skirt at that!

Quickly she forced a smile on her face, hoping that he small terror she was feeling wasn’t visible. “Ah, hello cutie! What’s your name?” She asked, keeping mind that asking the questions on her mind would probably result in a hormonal teenager screaming at her.

"Son," Carrie repeated, nodding and laughing slightly.

"My name's Pollux, but Mommy an' Evie call me Polly," the child piped up, a wide grin wrinkling his freckled cheeks.

May smiled at the child. “Polly? I like that. Its cute. Am I allowed to call you Polly as well Mr. Pollux?”

She hesitantly looked back up at Carrie. Confusion clearly marring her face, she attempted to come up with a delicate way to put the question she wanted to ask.

The best she came up with however was “…how?”

"Sure," Polly said, nodding, and then turned his attention back to his ice cream, which was smattering his thighs with sticky little globs.

"EEEH!"

Carrie fished a little packet of hand wipes from her pocket and handed them to Pollux before she replied.

"You won't believe me," she said frankly, "but I bought some oil at this little shop, see. I light it up and this hugeass bubble pops and makes a kid. Smell him. He smells like bubblegum."

On a normal day, Polly would have offered up his arm. He was, however, far too deep in the act of removing ice cream from his knees via lemon-scented rubbing alcohol.

May stared at Carrie baffled. Bubblegum? Oil? Giant bubbles?

OH!

Hahaha. April fools.

Ha. Funny.

Still though, now that it was mentioned the faint scent of bubble gum could be smelled.

Okay.

So she was going to go for it.

“Really? Oil?” She asked leaning into the child to sniff him softly. Sure enough, the scent was coming from him.

Honestly, Carrie had forgotten that it was April Fools Day. She'd never really liked that holiday.

"Yeah. I didn't believe it myself," she shrugged, "I honestly don't think anyone would unless they have some kind of schizoid delusion."

Finished with his work, Polly held the ice cream up to his mother.

"Quick! Quick! Before it drips!"

Carrie smiled to the child and licked the rim of the ice cream, catching any melty bits that could possibly ruin his nice clean skin. Funny how he flipped out at dirty knees, and yet had no problem with spit-swapping.

"So," Carrie said after a few moment, once her teeth had stopped being painfully chilled, "Why're you here?"

Yeah. No kidding. It was such a wild story, May was certain no one would believe it, just as Carrie had said. Still…

“Where did you get the oil?” She asked good naturedly, attempting to nothing more then polite interest in the conversation. She knew though, that as farfetched as it was, she would store the shops name in her memory bank for later research.

She was, after all, a journalist.

It would make a good scoop, either way. “Crazed teen thinks child comes from oil.” Or “Children birthed from oil”.

She faintly started planning the story out in her mind when Carrie broke her train of thoughts.

“Oh. I’m here to do an article on the auditions. Yourself?”

"I don't remember the shop name, but there's this woman there...kinda short, curly hair. Probably owns the place," Carrie shrugged, "There's a little boy with white hair, too." Before answering the second question, the teen peered back toward the auditions. A frenzied shriek rose from a girl who was currently crab-crawling backward on her bum.

The competition was fierce. Especially when everyone else was twenty-something, bug-breasted, and had already made a name for themselves one way or another.

"I'm here to audition."

Polly seemed to brighten at this statement.

"Yeah! Mommy's gonna be the lady who gets poked with the saw and goes boom."

"Don't jinx it, Polly."

"Sorryyyy~"

“Oh, pity. Do you happen to remember the street it was on?” She couldn’t help but sound intrigued. She wanted to know!

Turning her attention to the auditions as well, she winced mentally. Yep. She wasn’t paying the least bit attention. Oh well- at least when Carrie went up she could watch and get some semblance of an article.

“16 year old tries out for…”

For...

Oh hell. She didn’t even know the bloody plays name.

“When are you up, Carrie?”

"No," Carrie shrugged, "Sorry. And I'm up in...ah..." She peered up at a tall building which sported an enormous clock face.

"Three minutes, if all is going well." The girl who had been screaming suddenly walked past, rubbing at her red eyes. Oh, this was not going to be good.

May watched with interest as the girl passed them by before looking down at her watch. Three minutes huh?

“When do you know if you get the part?” She asked, dropping the subject of the oil. She’d try to ask around later.

"Who knows," Carrie shrugged, "Sometimes they tell you right then. Sometimes they take weeks, months. Sometimes you never get any kind of notice at all."

That was one of cinema's shortcomings, she believed. They were extremely impersonal.

There was a loud crunch as Polly began munching on his ice cream cone, kicking his feet happily.

“Ah.” She quickly stored this tidbit of information for later in the article. In all actuality, she was kind of excited to watch Carrie audition. She faintly remembered the conversation of the commercial they had when they first met.

“Whatcha gonna do with him?” She asked motioning to the pink haired boy. “When you go up, I mean.”

Carrie opened her mouth to reply, but Polly spoke for her.

"I can stand by and watch," he nodded, "as long as I'm quiet and good and don't bother the men with the cameras." Carrie nodded, smiled, and ruffled the little boy's hair.

"I don't have anyone to leave him with or anything, so..."

May smiled and nodded. “I can watch the spunky fellow, if he doesn’t mind sitting back here with me that is.” She offered. She liked kids. Especially cute ones.

And she wanted to know where he got his skirt from.

Was that weird?

She mentally shook off the thought before offering a smile. “You’re up soon, right?”

"Oh, thank you!" Carrie grinned, "He won't be any trouble at all. Right?"

"Right."

Suddenly, someone called out over a bullhorn: "CARRIETTA PRESLEY!"

Carrie winced. That was her cue.

"That's me. I'll be back soon."

"Byeeee, Mommy!"

“I have no doubt he’ll be a sweety.” May spoke with confidence. Polly seemed like a well behaved child. And after all- didn’t she like kids?

At the sound of Carrie’s name being spoken over the bulletin, May looked up, as if expecting to see a person hovering above her. When the teen spoke again, May looked back at her and offered the best smile she could muster.

“Good luck Carrie.” She cheered softly and turned to Polly as he saw his mother off with a smile.

"Thanks," Carrie smiled and headed off. The director spoke to her a moment, telling her what she'd have to do.

Act frightened. Okay, cool. Easy enough. She asked for a prompt.

One of the cameramen stepped forward.

Something in Carrie's brain snapped and she shrieked stumbling backward. She paused then, watching to see if the cameraman would move again. Of course, in her mind's eye, he was not a cameraman. By way of absurd acting technique, she'd actually made him into something she was afraid of.

"Do you want a candy?" Polly asked after a moment, completely unphased by the scream. Mommy had been practicing for a while.

May watched, instantly intrigued. She would never be able to act, she knew. But it was fun to watch someone she knew act before her.

The shriek caused her to jump slightly in her seat, and after a beats moment, she giggled at her own foolishness. Not even Polly had been startled by it.

When the young boy offered her candy, her eyes glittered. Sweets? “Oh! If you have some to spare, I would love some Polly!” She spoke with a childish giggle. Her eyes never once left Carrie on stage, however.

“Do you think your mum will get the part?” She asked curiously.

Polly pulled a couple of lollies from his pocket and held them out. One yellow, one green, and one red. He still didn't like red.

"I dunno. I hope she does. She says she's tired of not 'getting out there'. I dunno what that means, but it doesn't sound fun."

Still on the stage, the cameraman was beginning to get curious. He stamped his foot. Carrie gave a short shriek and stumbled backward, falling back onto her butt. Well, there it was. The man started after the girl. She scrambled to her feet, beginning to sob hysterically and scrambling backward. She was babbling nonsense, occasionally screaming "no!" and hugging herself. Honestly, she was terrified.

May idly pulled a lolli from the boys grasp “Thanks.” She giggled and tore off the wrapper before popping it into her mouth. Instantly cherry rushed to her taste buds and she sucked happily as she watched the teenager fall to her butt.

It wasn’t moments later that she was backing away from a camera man and sobbing. “Wow. She’s really good.” She murmured to the little boy. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was actually scared.”

She quickly removed her eyes from the scene before her, and rubbed the mouse pad on her laptop. The screen came back to life, showing her the document that had been opened moments ago, and then had been forgotten.

Taking her eyes off the monitor, she moved to type. Her eyes took in the scene before her, even as her fingers danced across the key board jotting down quick notes she would use for her article.

Carrie collapsed into a heap then, sobbing hysterically and curling into the fetal position. The cameraman laughed at the gibbering girl.

"Okay, okay, good, good," a man nearby said. The cameraman offered his hand to Carrie and she took it, snapping from her stupor as soon as she was on her feet.

"We'll be in touch."

"Thank you," Carrie smiled and gave a little bow and a handshake, then scampering back to the bench where May and Polly were still, rubbing at her eyes and sniffling.

"You did good, Mommy!"

"Thanks, Sweets."

Ahhh. Here came the actress now. May quickly drew her eyes back down to her screen, making sure to save the small file with a few jotted notes. Closing the top of the laptop, she neatly placed it back in the backpack she had been carrying with her. By the end her small chores had finished, Carry was finally in ear shot and the bubblegum scented boy was already calling out to her.

Now. What exactly was she supposed to say again?

Bravo? Brava? Ahhh “Job well done.” May offered with a cheery smile. Silently she wondered if Carry had received any news while up on stage, as she had suggested was possible moments before hand.

"Eh," Carrie shrugged. She had never been one to boast, although she was fairly proud of herself, "Thanks."

"Mommy? Ask May to come with us."

"Honey, I think May had work to do. I doubt she wants to--"

"Please?"

Carrie sighed. She hated asking things of people, especially absurd things, and especially of people she'd just met.

"Polly wants to know if you want to come to the playground with us. It's fairly quiet there, if you plan to use your laptop for work."

Truth be told, May had been planning on making her departure with the duo to get to work on the article. But the fact that the little boy was the one who wanted her to come pulled at her heart strings.

Her eyes darted from her bag, to the boy, to Carrie, and then finally back to Polly.

“Sure.” She spoke with a smile, mentally shrugging. If nothing else she could get some more info on Carrie for the article, since she missed all but the girl’s performance. She stood up from the bench and dusted off her back side before smiling at the pair. “Sounds like fun. I call the swings this time.” She spoke, her eyes darting to Carrie in an unspoken challenge.

10. The Slip of Destiny

May shuffled through the streets at a leisurely pace. The sun was hot, and figuring it was a nice day to take a stroll, May had left her house for a quick moment. Stopping at a red light, May waited for a moment for the light to change colors, so she could cross the street.

"COME ON COME ON COME ON!"

"POLLYYYYYYYYY!" Carrie shrieked. She was currently being dragged toward a mall by a boy half her size, and was completely powerless against it as she was nearly doubled over.

It was then she spotted May.

"MAY. MAY, MAY, MAY! Polly, we GOTTA GO SEE MAY A MINUTE."

The boy turned suddenly and sprinted toward the woman.

"AUUUUUGH!"

The light turned green and May perked up, ready to cross the street when she heard her name shouted in a mantra like fashion. Confused, she looked backwards to see a familiar pink haired boy bull rushing towards her, dragging his mother in tow.

At first, she was excited to see the duo. But that was suddenly killed by the idle wonderings of how the boy could run so fast in a skirt. She’d have to have him show her how.

Then came the fear. And the Ohdeargod,Ihopehecanstoprunningintime panic.

Polly did stop in time. It was, however, a very sudden stop, and Carrie's knees met the pavement.

"Hi, May!"

"HERK!" the teen choked, and then pulled a small slip of paper from the bag over her shoulder, "I've been carrying this for a week or so. I know you think I'm crazy, but here, check it out. It's the oil place." She held a slip of paper up to May, clearly torn from some kind of flier and scribbled on.

“Polly! Carrie!” May cheered happily ruffling the boys hair, wondering if his mother was okay. When the girl however handed her the slip of paper with an address scrawled on it, her eyes lit up.

“The place where you bought Polly?” She question, quickly folding the note and putting it in her pants pocket. She recognized the street name written on it, and her curiosity was perked.

"Yeah, I--"

And they were off again.

"BYEEEEE, MAY!"

"AURGH! IT'S WHERE I BOUGHT HIM AND DON'T BUY ANY IF YOU DON'T WANT A KID, I THINK, AND SEE YOU LATEEEER!"

They disappeared into the parking garage.

May watched at the young boy pulled at his mother, and waved meekly as they disappeared, Carries last words drifting to her. May smiled and turned back to the road. Damn, she missed her light.

Jabbing her thumb into the street light’s button again, she waited for the light to change. Her hand slid into her pants pocket, fingering the note that sat in there.

The light changed, and May crossed the street. Her pace a brisk one now. She had some shopping to do.

12. The Purchase of Another


"In here," Carrie said easily as she stepped through the front door of the rather fragrant shop, "This is where I bought the Polly-oil." She looked back and smiled to her friend, more to make sure she was still there than anything else.

Polly yawned and clung to his mother's shoulder. Naps were good, except when they made you more tired than you started out.



Following after, slightly sullen on principle of having to leave her house and be exposed to the outside world, Evie still managed an interested look around.

"Huh. Not quite the evil laboratory I was expecting," she said, ignoring the urge to sneeze as a mix of sweet smells hit her in the face.


It was close to closing time and Olivia was in the back counting up the money from the customers of early in the day. She usually didn't expect people to show up this late as most were at home snug in their beds, but apparently she was mistaken.

Ment was sitting in the front, pretending to be some sort of congressman as he talked to himself while look amongst a small display of glass burners, "And if you elect me president I'll make sure you get double deserts for dinner! And make sure they're not crappy like 'Livia's!"


Dessert?

"Ment! Ment!" Polly called out, wriggling in his mother's grasp and suddenly awake, "Ment, I want dessert!"

Carrie placed the child on the ground and he scampered away to his friend. She waved to Ment and turned to Evie, giving an eerie sort of grin.

"Let's go sniff us some children."


Toying with the cord of her headphones, Evie looked around again, this time uncertainly. A kid? She could barely handle a cat.

"Okay," she said, trailing after Carrie. After all, she didn't have to light the thing. She could still buy one and keep it for aesthetic reasons....whatever they happened to be.


Polly giggled and squeezed Ment hard, grinning from ear to ear.

"I missed you too! Look, look, that's my mommy's friend Evie! She says bad words."

Carrie laughed slightly as she moved to the rack of scents, uncapping one, looking revolted, and placing it back where it had been.



"Only occasionally," Evie said, facing a rack next to Carrie and investigatively sniffing at something named 'passionfruit'. "Bleagh....er. No offense," she said to the oil, wrinkling her nose as she put it back.


Ment blinked at both Carrie and Evie and looked bakc to Polly, "Is your mommy buying another Scent?" He asked, looking back to the lady who said the bad words, "'Livia says bad words too sometimes....Like when I break things."


"Nope! She's showin' Evie where she found me," Polly replied, nodding, and then added, "Evie said bad words at a squirrel once."

"Horror? What does horror smell like?" Carrie wondered aloud and lifted the vial to her nose, sniffed, pulled away; sniffed again and looked down in confusion.

She wasn't sure if she liked it or not.


Mulling around and sniffing at things occasionally, Evie drifted away from the flowery scents and back over to the more conventional fruity stuff. Hmm, pineapple, pear, blueberry...drat, no pomegranate. Though, the neon green one looked interesting. She picked it up and glanced at the name.

"Oooooh! Kiwi! I love kiwi," she said, picking up the vial and peering at it closer.


By now Olivia had heard the many voices coming from the front of her shop and came to investigate. Noticing Carrie again she smiled and waved, "Hello! Back again I see..." She murmured, also giving Polly a smile, "Hello, Pollux."

Ment looked over at his 'mother' and stuck his tongue out at her, "Polly's Mommy and her friend are here to look around! ISN'T IT EXCITING!?" He boomed, a small devilish grin on his face and he shook in place form the overwhelming amount of happy he was currently feeling.


"'Lo, Olivia," Carrie smiled and waved, and then thought for a rather quiet moment, "Hey...do these all turn into kids? I mean...has every oil you've sold?"

"Mommy says she doesn't want 'nother kid, though. I kinda wanna little brother 'r sister," Polly said, clearly upset by this notion. Not that his mommy wasn't awesome company, it's just that sometimes you needed someone to go shopping with who wasn't completely apathetic.


Evie half-turned her head, listening uninvited to the conversation, the vial of kiwi oil still in her hands. If it was just a one-in-one hundred kind of deal, she supposed she could buy it without worrying over the consequences.


"I....I really don't know." Olivia admitted, scratching the back of her head. "I've sold a lot recently, only a few people have stepped forward saying their oils have turned into children...I honestly am not sure." She murmured looking over at Ment and Polly once more. "I have been trying to find who is responsible though....With no luck, but I've been trying."

Olivia sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. She assumed business was going to begin to slow dramatically with the news that her oils spouted children.

"Really? Would you bring them over so we can all play together?" Ment questioned, glimmers of hope in his eyes.


"Sure! Iffen I get--"

"Huh. I'll take this one, then. There's always a chance it won't be a kid, right?"

"--one." Polly beamed with delight. It might not be a little brother or sister...but it might be one!



Encouraged by the odds, Evie held up the vial to exhibit to anyone bothering to watch.

"I do believe I shall be purchasing this," she said eloquently to anyone listening. "Kiwi makes me happy inside."

She dug out her wallet, ignoring that oft-abused practical side of her mind that was currently shrieking about how she was spending her food money for the week on scented oil.


"Yes. Always the chance." Olivia smiled, delighted when she heard both girls would be buying something. Yes! She shrieked in her mind, I'll have enough money this week to buy that fancy curling iron I saw! Now more curlers for my hair! Olivia made her way over to the cash register to ring them up, ignoring the nagging thoughts in her mind about how she's a sucker for money and the like.

Ment smiled, but kept his mouth shut when the two proclaimed their buying intentions. He'd be scaring away some business by calling the oils his brothers and sisters and wishing people well with their new babies. Olivia didn't want this anymore, so she promised to give him an allowance if he'd kept his mouth shut. This pleased Ment...As he could now buy pretty bowties for his hair...


Carrie laughed at Evie's usual contradiction in speech and nudged the older girl out of the way.

"You need that to nourish your frail mortal form," she said matter-of-factly, "Imma buy it for you, Art Student. Consider it a late birthday present. Like...really late." She went to the cash register and hurriedly started digging through her pockets, trying to find the proper amount of money before Evie could object.


"But-!"

Evie made to protest, mouth opening, finger pointing sternly, and even putting her free hand on her hip, but then the urge just died. Ah well.

"Sneak," she said in mock accusation, putting her feeble collection of bills back into a wallet that was more rubber bands and duct tape than leather.


Olivia smiled at ths, finding the exchange a nice refreshment between people than what she was used to in these parts. Pushing a few buttons on her cash register she brang up their total. "Together that comes to fifty-five pieces."

Ment grabbed Polly's hand in excitement and and swung it back and forth with joy. "You should stop over more! It's so boring here!!" He put on his display of melodrama and clung to his friend in a pleaing position. "Come back to see me sometime..."


"Mmkay," Carrie nodded and shelled out the appropriate amount of moolah She turned then and smiled down to the boys. So cute.

"Okay!" Polly exclaimed excitedly and placed a friendly kiss atop Ment's head, "I will. I promise!"

He then leaned in close and whispered.

"And I'll bring my new baby sister or brother in as soon as he's born.



Poking at her newly purchased oil, Evie pushed her mouth to one side. It WAS kiwi, after all. The risk of finding an oil-child was well worth the momentary enjoyment of awesome kiwi-smell.