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 Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:09 pm
 Tuesday, October 13th
Xenophon couldn’t really believe it when the head caretaker at the orphanage gave him the news. For a few minutes, he sat there on the edge of his seat, staring at her. His tail twitched and he felt the wings on his back flutter. He gulped. “Um…I don’t understand.”
For a moment, Xeno thought that she would get mad at him. Her eyes narrowed and the end of her tail twitched too. But then she said again, “Jurvik has filed papers to adopt you.” Her hands twitched. Both of them were being very twitchy, Xeno thought. He wondered why. He was twitching because he was nervous. She was twitching—why? Why was she twitching? He at least had reason to, she, um, less so…It’s not like she could be nervous, not like he was…
Xeno knew Jurvik—he knew Jurvik pretty well. Jurvik was his favorite person ever. They liked to hang out whenever Jurvik visited the orphanage, as he did every week. He taught them songs and music, how to clap their hands to a beat. Jurvik also liked to take time to give Xeno a hug or two, to watch his plays, or to help him out with his music. A couple months ago, the kids at the orphanage had been given an assignment for a class to write about their hero. Xeno had picked Jurvik, because whenever Jurvik walked in, he went right over to Xeno and asked him how he was. He would ask Xeno how his plays were going, and if he had any puppet shows ready to show him. He took Xeno seriously, and Xeno…well, he loved that. It made him smile, and he waited every day of the week until the weekend when Jurvik would come. Jurvik made him smile—and he loved that about the Geist. He wished he could make people smile like Jurvik did…
And he could. Or at least, he could make Jurvik smile. But the idea of Jurvik adopting him…well, he’d always thought of Jurvik as a big brother, but to have him as a dad? Well…that wouldn’t be too bad. In fact, that was pretty much the same as having him as a big brother, right? At least, Xeno was pretty sure that was what the head caretaker was talking about. “So…Jurvik’s going to adopt me?”
The head caretaker sighed, but it was a happy sigh, a sigh of—relief? She smiled, a stressed little smile. “Yes, he is. He can’t pick you up until Saturday—”
Xeno frowned. “Why not?”
The head caretaker seemed to be prepared for this, because she immediately replied, “Papers have to be turned in and processed—that means that it isn’t official until Saturday.” A glimmer of worry passed over her face, soon to be gone. “On Saturday, you’ll be moving out with Jurvik. Please be ready by nine o’clock—that’s when he’ll arrive.”
She was pretty smart to know what was about to happen in the future! Especially since it was in forever. But if she said he’d be here at nine, then he’d be here at nine, and that was all there was to it. He’d just have to trust her. He gave her his biggest, toothiest smile, hid the hurt when she flinched at it, and said, “Thank you so much, Miss, thank you!”
“Not a problem, Xenophon,” she murmured. “But you can’t talk about it with your classmates. They will get jealous, and you shouldn’t make them jealous.” Xeno grunted and looked at his feet. Honestly, he had been really looking forward to rubbing everyone else’s nose in the fact that he was going to be adopted and they weren’t. It would prove them wrong all the things they’d said since he was a little kid. The head caretaker noticed his grunt. “Xenophon,” she said sternly. “Promise me you won’t tell the other kids.”
Xeno sighed. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t tell the other kids.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:11 pm
 Tuesday, October 13th
Jurvik paced back and forth in the hall next to the music room. Class wasn’t for another hour, but that was okay—he had things to worry about. Not grades, though he knew he needed to be worried about those, and not practice, or even homework, which he had completed—with some difficulty—this morning. No. That wasn’t what he was worried about. He was worried about the adoption papers. After his last meeting with Xeno a few days ago, he had talked to the head caretaker about taking Xeno out for a day of fun on Haunted Hallows. He wanted the kid to have some fun—so what if he missed a day of studying or band practice? Xeno was more important. When that little Chimera was happy, Jurvik was happy, and it wasn’t often he met a person like that. He explained all of this to the head caretaker—he explained that Haunted Hallows would be the best day ever if he could take Xeno out for a day.
The head caretaker had looked over the top of her glasses at him and told him, bluntly, that she could not allow that. She explained that none of the children could be shown special attention that the rest did not have. None of the other children would be going on a “field trip” (her words, not his) that day, and so Xeno could not. The injustice of it rankled with Jurvik. The other kids had privileges and opportunities that Xenophon did not have—how could it be more unfair that a kid get a special day when every other day of the year he had less than everyone else?
Alas, she had not been impressed by this argument—probably because Jurvik, normally mild-mannered, had raised his voice. When he calmed down, she had simply taken her glasses off and given him a look sterner than a graveyard. “I did not write the rules, Jurvik. The needs of the children wrote the rules, and I have many more children than I have rules. What rules they did not write were written by the law—and the law states that I cannot allow a child out of my facility without the supervision of a legal guardian, and until he is an adult or is adopted, I—and my deputies—are his legal guardians. I am simply not allowed to let Xenophon leave the orphanage with you. Or with anyone,” she added as Jurvik opened his mouth to protest.
“So until he’s adopted, he’s stuck inside, never to be let out,” he had said bitterly. “Ma’am—that’s not fair. You never let him go to the movies, you never let him go to concerts or performances, he’s never even been to the public pool, and all of your kids have been there for swimming lessons. Xenophon notices it. He knows he’s being left out—just like you said, kids always figure out when they’re being left out.”
“The law is the law,” she said softly. Then she rubbed her eyes with her finger tips. “Jurvik, I know you mean well. I know how much Xenophon means to you—and you to him. He’s always happier and better behaved around the time of your visits. He’s a sweet child,” she added. “But he comes from…unfortunate circumstances.”
“He’s hallowed,” Jurvik had said. “That’s what you mean.”
The head caretaker sighed. “Yes, he is, Jurvik. People don’t react well to it. We keep him here to protect him as much as to make the outside world more comfortable. We can’t, in good conscience, put him in a place where people will call him a, a mutant to his face. That’s why we can’t let him out.”
“I would never let someone say that about him,” Jurvik had snapped. He was seething with anger. That’s why they didn’t let him out? They were discriminating against him as much as other people were! They were as much as teaching him that other people had the right to be disgusted by his appearance! They should never be allowed to do that, he couldn’t understand why they would do that—
The head caretaker put her glasses back on. “Jurvik, have you ever considered adopting a child?”
Jurvik blinked. His mouth was still open in outrage, but the sudden swerve in the topic of conversation left him momentarily flabbergasted. What—? How could he—wait, huh? “I, um, I’ve thought about it,” he said slowly. “I’m a cache kid myself—from the Academy. So I know what it’s like to grow up without parents. I guess I’ve always dreamed about, like, adopting a kid, when I’m older, give them an opportunity I never had…”
“I ask because you might want to consider adopting Xenophon. He likes you,” she added quickly. Jurvik’s mouth must have dropped open again. “He loves you, in fact. Last spring, he wrote an essay about why you were his personal hero.” She smiled. “If he were your son, you could give him all the opportunities you never had—that he’s never had.”
Jurvik couldn’t quite believe his ears. “I…I don’t know,” he muttered. “I love Xeno too. I’d do anything for him. But I’m a student—at university—I’ve got fees to pay—”
“As a graduate of the Academy, your tuition is waived so long as you are in good standing.” Once again, the head caretaker looked over her glasses at him. “You are in good standing, aren’t you, Jurvik?”
Jurvik had the strangest feeling that he was talking to an academic advisor right now. Or possibly a hustler. “Yeah, they’re pretty good, classes are going okay—but I’ve got rent to pay—”
“If you are asking about adoption fees, they are a modest sum, just enough to cover the processing of paperwork. I believe the Academy has a fund available for paying these fees for future students of the Academy. So long as you intend Xenophon to attend the Academy, those fees are as good as paid for by your alma mater.”
Yeah, hustler was just about right. Jurvik gulped. He was being herded into a corner here, and as much as he loved Xeno, he didn’t like being herded into a corner. “Well, raising kids is kind of expensive, isn’t it?” he muttered, but he felt his objections sliding away as a single image swam to the surface of Jurvik’s mind—the thought of the expression on Xeno’s face when—er, if—Jurvik was to adopt him. He would be so happy…
Jurvik bit his lip. “I want to help Xeno in any way I can. I don’t know if I’m ready to be a parent.”
“You are very good with children,” the head caretaker had added before he could finish his thought. He stared at her. “Take your time,” she added, looking away from him to shuffle papers on her desk. “Adoption papers take about a week to process, so you can plan accordingly.”
Jurvik narrowed his eyes as a thought occurred. “Ma’am, have you ever done this before?” She looked up at him. “Convinced a—concerned citizen, such as myself, to adopt a kid before?”
She nodded and went back to her paperwork. “Many times, Jurvik,” she said. “September, mostly. October’s a busy month, and we need the space.”
That conversation had been about midmorning on Saturday, and the thought of those last words sent a shiver down Jurvik’s spine. Beds were scarce…more children were abandoned at orphanages around the world this time of year than any other. Because they were like Xenophon. Because they were hallowed. A couple hours later, with Xenophon put away by the caretakers for his afternoon nap, Jurvik had approached the caretaker. Silently, he had nodded to her. Just as silently, she had handed him a stack of papers. “You’ll need to fill all of these out. Be careful, read them all over in full. I’ll get a notification as the papers go through.”
Jurvik had nodded in reply, and gone home to fill out the paperwork. He’d turned it in first thing on Monday morning before scurrying off to class. He’d gotten the first notification this afternoon—his paperwork had been confirmed to be filled out, and the university had sent over his grades. His employer had confirmed that he was employed. They were still waiting on a letter of recommendation from his landlady, but he was confident it would be in soon.
So why did he feel so nervous?
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:12 pm
Wednesday, October 14th
Xeno couldn’t believe that he was going—even after a night’s sleep, he was still excited, and shocked, and nervous, and—was this really happening to him? Was he really going to leave on Saturday, away from all of the mean kids? It was like a fairy tale, like Jurvik was a knight in shining armor come to save the fair princen—only he wasn’t going to marry the princen, he was going to adopt them—and it was a prince—Xeno, that is—Xeno was the prince—anyway…did that mean that at midnight, he’d have to go back? Or did it mean that it wasn’t real, and it was all just a mean illusion? He wasn’t sure. He hoped it wasn’t an illusion, of course. He also hoped that Jurvik didn’t turn out to be a monster in disguise as soon as they left the orphanage. Xeno didn’t want to admit it, but that was another of his big fears. He didn’t want to suddenly find out that he person he worshipped was terrible to him. Not that he had any reason to think that, of course, Jurvik had been really nice to him all along, even if he was, um, hallowed, and it was terrible to think that Jurvik could be terrible, especially since that would not be a nice thing to say about Jurvik. But still, he could turn out to be—
This same argument had been running back and forth in his head all day, and he could barely pay attention in class. They had small classes at the orphanage, designed to teach them stuff until they could be adopted and go to a real school. They only had one teacher to teach them stuff, so some things got skipped. Science didn’t get much attention, and PE was just something Jurvik told him about to frighten him. Math, sadly, was an ever-present threat, and while Xeno was daydreaming about a life beyond these walls, math was the very subject they were studying. Xeno didn’t know how much longer he could keep up pretending that nothing was weird going on with him when the teacher kept complaining that he was spacing out. Of course he was spacing out! He wasn’t going to be here in a couple days! That meant he would be going to a real school, and he wouldn’t have to learn from her, and that was pretty distracting, wasn’t it?
He wondered what Jurvik’s place would be like. Jurvik hadn’t been able to visit him since that earthshaking announcement, so he hadn’t had an opportunity to ask. Somehow, the subject had never come up in conversations between them before. Was it big? Was it nice? Somehow he didn’t think it was that big, he couldn’t see Jurvik staying in a big place. He could definitely see him staying in a nice place, one with an outdoors, one that wasn’t just made of concrete, one with a big, soft bed that could maybe be Xenophon’s and Xenophon’s alone…assuming that Jurvik was as nice as he seemed, of course…
Now the teacher was tapping Xenophon on the shoulder. “Come outside with me.” He looked over at the other kids. “We’ll be back in a moment. Talk quietly among yourselves.” With a hand firmly set on his shoulder, Xeno had no choice but to follow their teacher outside into the corridor. He gulped. He knew he was in trouble now—would this affect his adoption? For a terrible moment, he had a vision of Jurvik leaving him behind because he’d been taken out of class, those warm red eyes turned disdainful, looking away from him, I can’t adopt a kid who’s bad in class!
The teacher was crouching down in front of Xeno now, giving him a long, hard look. “Xenophon, what’s wrong?” the teacher asked.
Xeno couldn’t help but notice that the teacher wasn’t looking him in the eye. He seemed totally focused on Xeno’s nose. Hey. It was better than his mouth, wasn’t it. “I’m just…really worried.” He didn’t dare say more—it was supposed to be a secret, wasn’t it? That’s what the head caretaker had said.
So he was surprised when the teacher said, “Saturday, huh?” Xeno blinked and nodded. The teacher took a deep breath and patted him on the shoulder. “It’s only natural. Xenophon, you don’t need to be worried. Everything’s going to be okay—you’ll be moving in to a new home, with a new family. You’ll be going to a new school—which is sort of scary,” he added. “But the Academy is a nice place—you’ll make a lot of friends there. There are a lot of kids…um, like you.” The teacher hesitated for a brief moment, but kept talking. “I know, I went to the Academy. So don’t worry.”
“What if I do badly?” Xeno said suddenly. “What if I’m really bad at everything?”
The teacher smiled at him. He didn’t normally get smiles from the teacher—this was new. And….odd. But not bad? “Xenophon, you’re a good student. You’ve done well in my classes. Classes will be tougher at the Academy, but you’re a tough kid. You’ll thrive there. Just…try to pay attention these last few days?” He gave Xeno a sloppy smile. Xeno nodded, not entirely reassured. “Alright, then.” The teacher patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s go inside, okay?”
Xeno followed him back inside, where his classmates stared at him and whispered behind his back. He ignored them. He had more important things to worry about—he hadn’t mentioned his worry about Jurvik, after all…
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:13 pm
Wednesday, October 14th
“Hi, Mr. Jurvik, this is Wendy from Adoption Services. Just to let you know, we’ve received a letter of recommendation from your landliege. That wasn’t…uh, exactly what we were looking for? But it serves as a proof of residence, so that’s totally cool. We’re still waiting on the fee from the Academy funds, but that should be clear soon. Hope you have a nice day! Bye.”
Jurvik leaned over his cell phone and played the voice mail again. Okay, so he hadn’t precisely followed instructions, but he’d gotten to where he needed to be anyway. That was good, right? He hoped so. He had been stressed out about it all week—last night, he’d gone to bed with a headache. Now he was sipping coffee, hoping that his headache wouldn’t come back this morning.
All of this was worth it. He knew that. He’d dug through the piles of laundry and sheet music in his apartment and found drawings Xenophon had made of him, and thank-you cards. He’d kept them—and he didn’t keep all of the cards the kids gave him. He kept the ones he liked the most, but he kept all of the things Xeno had made him. He was a good kid—a sweet kid—and although Jurvik still wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a parent yet, he was sure that he was ready to bring Xeno into his family. He was sure of that. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. His toast would be done soon. In the meantime, he was making a checklist. He’d done some cleaning last night, but he’d need to make a big push by Thursday night—Friday was when child services would be over to inspect his apartment. Technically, it wasn’t an apartment in the traditional sense of the word—Jurvik lived in a small summer house that belonged to a kind, elderly Demon couple. The house was on their property, not far from the grand old house that they lived in. The summer house consisted of just five rooms, if you counted the hall. There was a front room, which consisted of a kitchen and a living area, there was a bedroom, an extra room that he had been using for a music practice room, and a bathroom. The living area was equipped with a couple chairs—for company—and a stove. Not a cooking stove, though Jurvik could have used it for that if he wanted, but one of those old-fashioned gather-ye-round-and-warm-yer-hands style stoves. It had space to cook on top, but more to the point, it was a handy fireplace replacement for the snowy winter months. The rest of the summer house was heated by a conventional furnace. There was a regular air conditioner as well, though it wasn’t quite as efficient as it could be. He hoped he didn’t get asked about that on the visit—maybe he could promise to fix it later?
He’d cleaned out the music practice room last night. All notes and papers had been removed, all instruments, leaving just a bookshelf inside. The rest of the papers he’d sorted out and put on shelves in his own room. There hadn’t been enough space for it all, and so some of it, regretfully, he’d had to throw out. The garbage and recycling cans were overflowing. Garbage day was Thursday afternoon. It would be gone by the time the inspector arrived. The room was swept and vacuumed, the walls and ceiling cleaned. He’d checked the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. It was like living in the dorms again, he thought with a half-crazed smile. Only instead of taking note of the way things had been before he’d arrived, he was taking note of the way things should be, in a perfect world. Things were in reasonably good condition, which left only the matter of furniture. A bed, a mattress, bedclothes, and a dresser. Well, Jurvik had a couple free periods today, and only one class tomorrow—an exam, unfortunately. He’d scheduled Friday’s inspection for his free period in the day—right after yet another exam and before a practice class. He couldn’t afford to skip classes if he was to stay in good standing, and no one would let him adopt Xeno if he wasn’t in good standing. He’d had a nightmare about that last night—faceless people in business suits taking Xeno away, telling Jurvik that he shouldn’t have missed his math class if he wanted to be a father.
Jurvik hadn’t had a math class in two years.
He groaned and fetched the slightly-burnt toast. Okay. Bedframe today. He’d get the bedframe today, in the afternoon, and maybe the dresser if he could find it. He’d made arrangements to borrow Flash’s truck so that he could bring it home. He could get the bedclothes in the evening, do some frantic studying before hitting the hay and going to bed. More studying tomorrow morning, take the exam, buy a mattress—he’d still be borrowing Flash’s truck. Make Xeno’s bed, clean the kitchen and the living room, clean the bathroom, study for the second exam. He had enough recipes and ingredients to make Xeno some healthy, home-cooked meals, so there was that at least. He could get a trailer for his bike so that he could take Xeno to school every morning—at least until Xeno was ready to live in the dorms. If he wanted to live in the dorms, mind…that was something he would just have to ask the little Chimera.
That was something that was bothering Jurvik, actually—he hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to Xeno. He’d talked to the head caretaker, who had assured him that Xeno was “looking forward to Saturday,” but that wasn’t the same as sitting down and talking to the little guy.
It was time to go to school. Jurvik groaned again, put on a jacket, and climbed into the borrowed truck. Time to put the day’s plans into action…
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:13 pm
Thursday, October 15th
Every morning for the past…um, just two mornings, Xeno had asked the head caretaker if there was any news. Yesterday she had sighed and told him that he was still leaving on Saturday, but she still looked worried for a second or two. Today the same thing happened, only she sounded a little angrier, like she was frustrated and wanted him to go away. He was sort of disappointed by that, actually—he’d wanted more news, like if Jurvik had any messages from him. It was starting to bother him that he hadn’t heard about this from Jurvik’s own lips yet. He’d only heard about it from the caretakers and the teacher. They could be making it all up to get rid of him. He’d cried himself to sleep the previous night thinking about that, actually—after all, he knew that the grown-ups here were freaked out about him. He hated being a source of fear, but if other people were upset by his appearance, there was nothing he could do but leave—his face was stuck like this forever. There weren’t any spells that could make you not a hallow.
So he’d been shooed from the office by the head caretaker and sent off to the current activity. It was recess right now. Normally during recess, Xenophon read a book or practiced his performances, but today the other kids were being…meaner than usual. One of them pushed him away from the box of sock puppets, and a couple Baphomets who had never shown any interest in the puppets hogged them all during recess, along with the part of the jungle gym he used as a practice stage. The caretaker on yard duty was the one who didn’t like kids reading during recess. They yanked the book out of Xeno’s hands and told him to go play “like the rest of the kids.”
No one wanted to play with him. They never did—other than Jurvik, Xeno had no friends. Instead, he retreated to a corner of the yard where old discarded blocks lay in a pile under a tree. No one was paying any attention to them. Xeno sat down and began stacking the blocks. Mostly they were cube-shaped, but there were a couple of columns and an arch, enough to build a short tower with an arch balanced precariously on top. It was very boring. Soon Xeno’s mind was wandering, and he was considering the road in front of him. He had to pack soon—there were only two days (!) before he had to leave. There wasn’t much to pack, though, just his clothes, his comb, and his toothbrush. He didn’t have anything else. One of the caretakers would be doing a load of laundry early for him (normally they did it on Sunday) so that he wouldn’t have to carry any dirty laundry with him to his new life. He had a set of clothes set aside for Saturday, including his favorite sweater. It had a smiling pumpkin on it. Xeno loved pumpkins; they reminded him of fall, and of Haunted Hallows. He just…ignored the fact that his awakening day was in the fall. Haunted Hallows was the most fun holiday of the year, with the prettiest colors. Jurvik would take him out that day to the farm. Or would he not? He had promised he would, but that was before he had decided to adopt Xeno—maybe he’d changed his mind?
Xeno’s tower collapsed, the blocks flying to the side. One of them—the arch—spun off and hit Xeno in the nose. He yelped and cupped his hands to his nose and looked around for the source of the disturbance. One of the older kids, a big, mean Litch, was standing over him, hands on hips and smirking. “Hey, Weird-face, whatcha doin’?” The Litch’s cronies guffawed next to him.
Xeno scooted away as subtly as he could. He didn’t dare run away—Larsi would just beat him up. “J-just playing with blocks, Larsi…”
Larsi snorted and kicked dust in Xeno’s direction—the blocks were too far away to throw at him. But then Larsi’s dark eyes caught sight of Xeno’s hands on his face and a cruel smirk grew on his face. “Aw, whassa matter, Weird-face? Did I hurt yo’ widduw face? Is it ugwy now?” He grinned. “Uglier, I mean?” He and his cronies laughed. Xeno blinked back tears. Larsi always knew how to make him feel worse than he already did. He was always picking on Xeno. Even now he was reaching out a hand to snatch Xeno’s hands away from his stinging nose—
“Recess is over, kids, come back inside!” the caretaker shouted in a bored voice. Kids shouted in disappointment, but ran back to the door. A look of frustration came over Larsi’s face and the little Litch pulled his arm back. He did aim a kick at Xeno’s head (which missed, hitting his shoulder instead). “I’ll get you later, puppet freak,” he hissed. It was as if he blamed Xeno for recess ending his fun. “You’re here for good.” With that, he and his cronies turned on his heel and strode to the door.
Xeno pulled his hands away from his face, only dimly hearing the caretaker scream at him to get inside. There was blood on his fingers—his nose was bleeding. Just two more days. Then he didn’t care how mean Jurvik might turn out to be, he was going to leave this place and never, ever come back.
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:14 pm
Thursday, October 15th
“And the difference between a toccata and a fugue is—?”
“Toccata’s don’t have counterpoint,” Jurvik said through a mouth of take-out noodles. “Fugues do. Kind of the whole point of a fugue.” He scooped up more chow mein with his chopsticks and shoved more in his mouth.
Flash snapped the book shut and leaned back in her seat. “Yup, you’re ready for the exam tomorrow. And don’t shove food in your mouth like that, you’ll choke.” She herself was shoving food onto her plate with ferocious pace, so Jurvik couldn’t really see how she had any right to correct him. As if sensing his mutinous thought, the fiddler waggled her eyebrows at him and grinned. “C’mon, Jurvik, you’ve got to get used to hypocrisy. Parents do it all the time.”
“Assuming I’m going to be a parent come this weekend,” Jurvik grumbled. He sipped on the can of root beer in front of him and slammed it back down on the table a little too forcefully. Root beer sloshed out of the hole on the top, flooding the basin; drops slipped down the side of the can and onto the table.
Flash sighed, picked up the can, and wiped off the table with a napkin. “Okay, Jurvik. Something’s been eating at you the last few days, something about the adoption. Talk to me, dude.”
Man, where to begin? Jurvik set down his chopsticks, crossed his arms, and glared at the ceiling. “I love this kid. Let’s just make this clear. I want to make him a member of my family, I do. I think we’ll have a lot of fun together. He deserves some place that isn’t that horrible orphanage with those—horrible classmates of his. I’m…a little bothered that I was talked into it, I would feel better if it had been my own idea…” He sighed and wiped his face with his hand.
“But that’s not what’s bothering you,” Flash said, eyes narrowed.
“But that’s not what’s bothering me,” Jurvik repeated. “What’s bothering me is this meeting with child services tomorrow.”
“Ah, yeah. Well, they’ve gotta make sure that you’re a good guy and that your place is legit, that you’re not gonna raise this kid in a drug kitchen and that you’re not gonna sell him into slavery.” Flash picked up a piece of chicken with a fork, shoved it in her mouth, and talked around it. Jurvik avoided looking at her face. “So whassa probl’m?” She swallowed, then continued, “You’re not just a good guy, Jurvik, you’re a great guy. I still can’t believe you exist sometimes. Pretty much everyone in the band’s had a crush on you at some point. And you’ve got a sweet pad. Especially after we gave it a thorough clean.” She looked around the kitchen, which stank of artificial lemon scents, with approval. After the exam today, she had insisted on accompanying him on his next shopping expedition, helping him carry the mattress to her truck and drive it home. She’d stayed to help him clean his apartment—and to study. Classical Eurosian music was one of Flash’s specialty subjects (something that always surprised new people she met). She pretty much knew the material for the next exam by heart already, making her the perfect study-buddy to quiz him while wiping out an oven and making a child’s bed. “Bake some cookies tomorrow so that the kitchen smells nice for the inspector, and you’ve got it all made.”
Jurvik snorted. “If I get home on time. I can’t borrow your truck tomorrow, you’ve got classes all day. I’ll be riding my bike home, I’ll get there barely before the inspector does.”
Flash shrugged. “Just an idea, dude.”
Jurvik poked his cold chow mein moodily. “They might tell me that I’m not fit to be a parent. If they do, then the adoption will get canceled. Xeno’s already got his hopes up. If the inspection goes badly—if I mess up—” Jurvik’s nose was hurting. He wiped his eyes reflexively—a hurting nose always meant that he was about to cry.
Flash touched her fingers to the back of Jurvik’s hand. “Hey, piper, relax. They’ll look around the apartment, they’ll ask you some questions. Answer honestly, and you’ll be good to go. Okay?”
Now Jurvik was actually crying. Tears were streaming out of his eyes and snot was starting to fall out too. He couldn’t speak without letting out a veritable flood of both. All he could do was nod and take Flash’s hand in his. He felt terrible. He kept getting anxious—he found himself unable to shake away the terrible mental images of losing Xeno, of Xeno crying, of Xeno turning away from him. He couldn’t bear the thought of failing him. His chest constricted whenever he thought about it so that he couldn’t breathe…
“It’s gonna be okay, Jurvik. Just take it one question at a time…”
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:17 pm
Friday, October 16th
Xeno spent his recess in his bunk bed. After yesterday’s incident with Larsi, he wasn’t being forced into the yard anymore. He would much rather sit inside and read a book, and now that he didn’t have to go inside, he was being allowed to do so. He turned the pages of a picture book, idly looking at the faded watercolors of happy creatures capering about in merriment. He’d read this one a few times, but now he was really concentrating on it, trying to remember it. After tomorrow, he wouldn’t have it. Tomorrow…
There wasn’t much to pack. Xeno didn’t own any books of his own, nor any toys. Everything belonged to the orphanage, and they needed to keep it all. They couldn’t afford to let him take anything from here, just as they could never afford to let any orphan take something away before. He’d just have to memorize this book so that he could remember it later. That was the only way. Maybe he could get some more books later with Jurvik—with Dad? Was he supposed to call Jurvik Dad now? He wouldn’t have to call him “Daddy,” would he? He didn’t like the word “Daddy.” Even “Papa” would be preferable to “Daddy.” Dad or Jurvik would be better. And when was he supposed to start using the title instead of Jurvik’s real name? Other people didn’t use their parents names (and Xeno thrilled to realize that he’d used the phrase “other people” instead of “normal people” or “people with parents. He was part of a select group now! Or…would be, on Saturday) even if they knew their parents’ names.
But yeah, he could get books with Jurvik later, right? He could get books, maybe even find the same books. An idea struck Xeno. He could take a few pieces of paper, right? Some scraps? And then he could write down the titles of the books he liked! That way, he could remember the titles even after he’d left the orphanage. Xeno grinned in delight at his own ingenuity. Yeah! Take that, orphanage! Orphanage that couldn’t afford to send students away with books. Okay, not so much of a victory anymore. But a victory nonetheless!
Xeno looked over his bed towards the clothes. All folded up—the clean ones, anyway. They’d been folded away for days. Well, there wasn’t a lot else to do to get prepared, was there? He wondered suddenly how he was going to carry it all. Well, he probably wasn’t going to get a piece of luggage. He’d probably have to carry all of his clothes. Or maybe they would put them in a plastic bag? A garbage bag or something? That happened in one movie, but it was when the kid was being taken away by the nightmares in black because their father was a criminal. Or something. Xeno hadn’t seen the movie in a while, so he could hardly remember the plot. But that scene had really gotten stuck in his head. It was an emotional one, after all, and now more than ever, he could sort of feel for the kid in the movie. Only in Xeno’s case, he was going to be adopted instead of being sent away from his parents. He was gaining family instead of losing it.
All of that was stuff for tomorrow. Stuff to worry about tomorrow. He was determined not to think too hard about it right now—he was tired of being anxious. He was tired of being scared and worried, tired of second-guessing his future. In general, he was just plain tired. He hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep lately, and naps were totally out of the question. He’d just kept his eyes closed for what felt like forever yesterday, waiting for nap period to be over. It had given him a lot of time to think, make plans, and more importantly, to make decisions. His first decision had been that he wasn’t going to worry about tomorrow. His second decision had been that he wasn’t going to think about tomorrow, but that had been a pointless decision, since he’d immediately started thinking about tomorrow. It was like a very large (but very friendly) animal in the room—it was impossible not to notice and think about. Okay, so back to that first decision—don’t worry about it. Make plans and decisions instead of worrying yourself into an upset stomach.
Xeno pushed himself off the bed. Right, so he’d need a piece of paper and a pencil to write titles down on. He knew where he could find both—in the classroom. He slipped out of the dormitory door and walked down the hall to the classroom door. Just his luck. Locked. Xeno looked around, temporarily arrested. Okay. So he couldn’t get the paper now. When could he get it?
“Xenophon?” a voice said behind him.
Xeno turned around and squeaked with surprise. It was the head caretaker. Her arms were folded behind her back while her eyes bored a hole in him over the rim of her glasses. “Um, er, yes, ma’am?” Xeno managed to squeeze out. What did she want? Was she angry at him for leaving the dormitory? Was he about to get into trouble for trying to break into the classroom? Oh, Nine, what was going to happen?!
The head caretaker reached out from behind her back to produce a bright purple backpack. Xeno blinked. What…? His question must have manifested itself on his face, because the head caretaker smiled. “It’s for you. You’ll need something to carry your things in tomorrow.”
Xeno opened his mouth, then closed it again. What could he say? He couldn’t think of anything at all. It was a surprise, then, to hear his own voice say, “I thought I wasn’t allowed to take anything with me.”
The head caretaker’s eyebrow quirked. “Anything that belongs to the orphanage. This doesn’t belong to the orphanage.” She held it out to him. “It belongs to you.”
Xeno took it gently in his hands. Purple wasn’t exactly his favorite color, but it was definitely up there on the list of colors he liked. It was brand-new, too. It had never been used, there was no wear on it, and it was perfectly clean. Xeno didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to say at all. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you so, so much.”
“You’re welcome,” the head caretaker said gravely. She looked at their surroundings, as if trying to figure out where she was. “Why were you trying to get into the classroom?”
Xeno flinched. He’d been caught in the act! What should he do now? The little Chimera clutched the precious backpack close to his chest. “Um, I was…I was hoping to get a piece of paper and a p-pencil so that I could, um. I’dliketowritedownthebooksIlike.” He gulped. For some reason, the only thought going through his mind was, I hope I still get to keep the backpack.
However, the caretaker looked more thoughtful than angry. “Yes,” she said at last. “That would be a good idea.” To Xeno’s surprise, she reached into her pocket to pull out a set of keys, one of which she inserted into the door knob. She opened the door and gestured him to go inside ahead of her.
Xeno needed no second bidding. He rushed inside, grabbed a piece of lined paper and a pencil, and walked back to the head caretaker. “Thank you, Miss,” he said. “Um…for everything.”
“You’re welcome, Xenophon,” she said. Then she took a deep breath. “Xeno, I came to talk to you about your adoption tomorrow. Today an inspector was scheduled to visit your—Jurvik’s home to vet it for you. That means she was making sure it was good for you,” she added.
Xeno gulped. “And…?”
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:21 pm
Friday, October 16th
So, two fun facts about cookies.
The first one is that you can make the dough, then set it aside to bake it later. It’s pretty simple, actually—you make it before you want to bake it, say, the night before as your best friend clears away the dishes and takes out the bags of trash and the refuse from take-out dinner—then you put it away in the fridge or the freezer to keep it chill and prevent the salmonella from forming. People do it all the time, apparently, when they’re on the go, or if they’re going to sell it as part of the school fundraiser. There are all sorts of tips you can look up online, it’s really neat, it’s like this wonderful secret cult that everyone hides from the rest of the world. You just have to remember to take the dough out beforehand, let it warm up a bit before you work it into balls and pop it into the oven. That’s okay, though, because the oven has to warm up before you can bake the cookies.
The other funny thing about cookies is that you actually have to supervise them while they’re in the oven. You can’t just let them sit while you run off and do something else—say, talk to the nice inspector from the child protective services agency while she inspects your apartment to make sure that you’re not a death cultist. If you let them sit, they’ll catch on fire, the fire alarm will go off, the sprinklers will start, everyone will get wet, the nice Imp lady from the agency will make notes about how you’re a Bad Parent…
Okay, that last bit didn’t happen. But that was because the Imp had been nice enough to remind him that he had to actually watch over the cookies. “That’s alright, this won’t take long,” she said with a smile. She was entirely too perky for someone Jurvik had been living in fear of for nearly a week. “I can inspect the house on my own. I’ll come back here for any questions I might have.”
“Yeah.” Jurvik made a face. “My place is kind of…small.”
The Imp shrugged. “That doesn’t matter as much as you might think. So long as the child has sufficient space to move around and has a place where they can have some private time.”
Jurvik tried not to think about what “private time” could mean for a child. That was it, it was official: he, Jurvik, was too young to have a kid. He was just a kid himself, still thinking of the smutty interpretation of everything right off the bat! He didn’t dare mention that, though, instead staying in the kitchen to watch over the cookies. This meant that, at first at least, the inspector was in the room with him. She was a very sweet-looking lady, but underneath that soft and fluffy exterior was a mind as sharp as glass and an eye as strong as an eagle’s. She asked him questions about the kitchen at first—whether he had plans on how to feed Xeno, whether he knew what composed a healthy meal for a growing Nightmare. She wanted to know if he knew what to do if a child swallowed a cleaning fluid; if he had a fire extinguisher and thought he could use it in case of a fire.
It was like that through most of the house. She asked him about the stove, how long it had been there, if it had been cleaned recently, how well attached its pipe was to the wall, if the windows in the front room could hold in the heat in winter. After that (and a sampling of the cookies), it was off to the bedrooms. Her inspection of Jurvik’s room was mercifully brief. She was much more interested in Xeno’s [future] room. She nodded when she saw the bed (neatly made, with blankets), the dressers, even the desk and chair that Barek had suggested they put in. “Got to have a place to do homework, Jurv,” their drummer had said with a smile. “Don’tcha worry about it, I can hook yah up with one.”
Jurvik was pretty sure that that nod was a good one, accompanied as it was by a peacefully-held tail. Jurvik didn’t dare let himself breathe out yet though. There was still more inspecting to do. The bathroom, for instance. The inspector raised an eyebrow at the interior. “Oh my,” was all she said.
“Yeah,” Jurvik said with a smile. “My landlieges wanted a pink shell theme.”
“It was in style for a few years,” the Imp said with a smile. “That was a while ago, of course. Looks clean, though. I see you have some child’s toothpaste and shampoo. Good, good. The orange towel—”
Jurvik nodded. “That’s for Xeno.”
The Imp nodded. “That would explain why it isn’t peach. What did your landlieges think of that?”
Jurvik panicked until he saw the glint in her eye. She was…joking with him? “They, uh, they don’t mind. They understand, a kid needs a towel of their own, of their own color.”
The inspector nodded. “Sensible. Alright, Mr. Jurvik, I have just a few more questions to ask you,” she said. “Let’s go back to the kitchen, I think the next batch should be done.”
Jurvik led the way, removing the second sheet from the oven and replacing it with a fresh one. The inspector asked him a few more questions, these concerning children’s health. Questions about first aid, child care during illnesses, what medicinal supplies he had, and then she threw the curveballs.
“Do you love the child, Mr. Jurvik?”
Jurvik blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that one. “Yes. I do love him, ma’am.”
The inspector nodded. “You’d be surprised. Some prospective parents don’t.” This time she sighed. “It’s depressing, but it’s true. Do you feel you are ready to be a parent, with all of the responsibilities that entails?”
Jurvik had to think about this one for a little while. He needed just the right balance of honest and reassuring here. “I’ve made a lot of preparations this week,” he said at last. “I’m prepared to make more.”
“Ah, so you’re prepared to make preparations.” She nodded. “Sounds pretty prepared to me. Last question, Mr. Jurvik, and then I’ll have my cookies and leave—do you feel anxious?”
Jurvik sighed. “Yeah. I do.”
She patted him on the shoulder. “Good. Every parent does, no matter what the age. Even more so because you’re still young. But you seem very mature.” She reached out for a cookie. “I wish you every luck in the future, young Nightmare. Welcome to the sacred siblinghood of parents.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:23 pm
Saturday, October 17th
Believe it or not, Xenophon actually fell asleep the night before. His last night of being an orphan. Everything was ready. Everything had been sorted out. Xeno had his new backpack hidden in a drawer of the small chest of drawers at the end of his bed. His clothes had been packed inside. There had been a few curious glances from the other kids, but no one had asked. Xeno was the weird kid, right? The weird kid always did weird things. Although it was awfully weird that the weird kid had a new backpack…
That last comment had come from Larsi. He’d been told by the caretaker supervising them in the evening that if he was so observant he should have noticed that he hadn’t washed his hair tonight. That had gotten the bully out of the way and allowed Xeno some peace and quiet. Even then, the caretaker assured him, they would be checking in on them all night long. Larsi wouldn’t have time to bother him.
Xeno had laid back in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to think. He wasn’t the first kid to leave the orphanage. He wasn’t even the first one this month—another kid had been adopted on the first. Not another hallow, though—Xeno was the only hallowed child now. Tomorrow, he thought, there would be no hallowed children at this place at all.
It wasn’t a comforting thought—not exactly, anyway—but it helped Xeno to fall asleep. When he woke up in the morning, it was to that fuzzy sense of disbelief that the day so long anticipated had finally arrived. Xeno rose early, checked his bag again to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind. His clean clothes had been laid out for him yesterday afternoon, so they’d already been packed. The piece of paper with the titles of the books he liked was buried at the bottom. Children are, by their very natures, early risers, so by the time Xeno had finished checking his bag and getting dressed, most of the other kids were awake (including a grumpy Larsi). Xeno didn’t speak to any of them, even the ones who asked him where the backpack had come from. He shrugged his shoulders and heaved it onto his shoulders for the first time. He didn’t dare leave it out of his sight. He knew he’d promised not to tell the other kids, but he couldn’t leave it out of his sight, even if it attracted attention from the other kids.
The other kids hadn’t given up unraveling this mystery, though, and they kept at it all through breakfast. The caretakers tried to stop them, but the kids ignored them. For the first time ever, Xeno wasn’t the weird kid to be reviled, but the mysterious kid to be questioned. It was an unnerving experience. It was certainly nicer than being feared and bullied. Too little, too late, a mean voice said in the back of Xeno’s mind. He dismissed it. He didn’t need to waste time being mean to the other kids. They didn’t matter. He’d be gone at nine o’clock.
Eight o’clock seemed to stretch through eternity. The caretakers eventually herded the kids away to do a craft project. It was October, Haunted Hallows was coming up. It was time to make more decorations—it had been masks last week, so this week they were making paper chains in festive Haunted Hallows colors. Xeno held back. He had to be ready for when the time came. Since that time seemed to be taking forever, though, he decided to wander the halls. So many memories…and some of them were good. He remembered racing toy carriages down the hall and decorating cookies at Solstice time. He remembered coloring in pictures with crayons, and, yes, he remembered the first time he’d ever met Jurvik. He’d been so nervous! Of course, he was nervous now, with stomach-butterflies flying around in his chest as well. But he felt a strange sensation of detachment from all of that. He was going to be gone soon. So soon. As soon as nine o’clock, sharp.
The head caretaker met him on the way out. She smiled at him. “Ready to go?”
Xeno nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “But, um, first…” He shuffled his feet.
“Yes, Xenophon?”
Xeno looked up at her again. “Thank you. Um, for everything. For everything you’ve done for me, and for everything you’ve done for—for everyone. Thank you.”
The head caretaker replied as she always did: “You’re welcome, Xenophon.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:25 pm
Saturday, October 17th
It had been a miracle, but Jurvik had finally fallen asleep last night. Even more miraculous, he woke up early—half an hour before his alarm clock was to go off. Six-thirty. So…what, two and a half hours? Shower. Get dressed. Eat breakfast. Brush your teeth, even though you normally only brush teeth once a day. That’s a bad habit you got into when you became a junior and no longer had a caretaker breathing down our neck all day. Bad habits stop now—you have to set an example. For Xeno. For your son.
Now there was an electric word. Jurvik liked it, the more he heard it. Son. Son. Your son. My son. Your son, Xenophon. My son, Xeno. He certainly liked it better than the word “father.” Father didn’t gel right. It didn’t go well with Jurvik. Jurvik, the father. Father Jurvik. No. Dad was okay. Better than father, certainly. Not as good as son, though. Soooooooon.
Yeah, no, not enough sleep last night. He may have gotten to sleep, but it was a late sleep, like, one in the morning kind of sleep. Bad example, but he’d had a laptop to stare into all night, and there had been the matter of excitement about the idea of having a “son” across the hall from him the same time tomorrow night. Er, morning. So Jurvik was drinking lots of coffee now while he tried to figure out when he should leave. Early, he thought. He had a few things he needed to take care of before he got to the orphanage. He had two more things to get his already straining budget before he got there.
The first was a jacket. He was lucky—he was able to find one in red and orange, just the right size. He knew that the kid had a jacket already, but it was a really light-weight one. Xeno needed a heavier one. The second was one he got at the school store, the perfect thing for a future Academy student: a stuffed animal. A very fluffy ram. Jurvik smiled. Xeno would like that. Every kid at the Academy got a stuffed animal if they didn’t have one already, and some administrator in the long-forgotten past had decided that Chimera children would get a stuffed ram. It was maybe a little silly, but it was a system, and it had been around for a long time. Sure, Jurvik could save money and wait until the Academy gave Xeno his stuffed ram, but Jurvik wanted it to be special. He wanted Xeno’s first stuffed animal to be from him. Was that selfish? Jurvik didn’t know. But he was beginning to realize that sometimes selfish wasn’t such a bad thing.
His purchases made, he stowed them in the new trailer to his bike (secondhand, but in very good condition, even if it was green). The morning was dawning bright and crisp, with a deep blue sky and a chill that promised of the approaching winter. It wasn’t winter yet, though. The sun’s light was still the strong beams of autumn, not the weak fare of winter. The leaves were falling from the trees in shades of brilliant scarlet and vermillion. Jurvik tried to enjoy the morning as the wind blew through his mohawk and over his glowing skin. Yes, his skin was glowing—he was happy. Excited. Happy. And the orphanage was just ahead. He got off the bike, locked it off (hey, you never know). Then, with coat and stuffed ram in his arms, he stepped inside.
Today, the orphanage was total bedlam. There was paste, tape, and construction paper all over the place. Jurvik stepped carefully through the chaos. Once again, he wasn’t getting mobbed. He peered over a kid’s shoulder to see what he was working on—it looked like a paper chain with bats drawn on it.
An eager smile grew over Jurvik’s face as he looked over the room for one child in particular. Not seeing it around, he asked one of the caretakers. He pointed down the hall. “I think he’s saying good-bye to the rest of the caretakers. You are a little early.”
Okay, fine, fifteen minutes early, Jurvik thought irritably as this caretaker rushed away to find the little Chimera. Maybe twenty, but who was counting?
The caretaker was heading back, followed by the head caretaker, but both were easily outstripped by the rushing blur of brown, black, and purple that was pushing its way through the crowd. Xeno raced up to Jurvik and into his arms. The Geist, crouching down to Xeno’s level, wrapped his arms tight around his friend—his son—and held him close. “Hey. Are you as excited as I am?”
Xeno was holding onto him just as tight. “I think I am…Dad.”
Jurvik nodded. “So am I…son.”
It was all worth it, both of them thought. This entire week—maybe my whole life—was worth it just for this.
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