//------------------------------//
// Chapter 27: Through the Eyes of the Elderly 
// Story: There's a Monster Pony Outside My Window 
// by Halira 
//------------------------------//

"Leave them be and get ready for school."

"Awww! But why do they get to stay home and we have to go to school? It ain't fair!"

"Because they had a very trying night. Don't argue with me."

Wendy woke up, slightly disoriented and wondering who was speaking. She was on the floor, with a blanket draped over her. Charles was beside her, still asleep, and her daughters were just a short distance away, also sleeping. She was still trying to put together where she was when one of the Westoff children went hurrying by with a backpack on. Then she remembered. Still tired, she pulled her blanket tighter around her and drifted back off to sleep.





Wendy's eyes popped open to the sound of children screaming, and she hastily threw off her covers to protect them before a hand gripped her shoulder and stopped her. 

"It's okay; it's okay. It's just your kids running around the yard," Joan Westoff assured her. "Nana is out keeping an eye on them."

Wendy glanced around, reminding herself again that she was in the Westoffs' house. Sunlight was coming through the windows, so it was daytime. There was no sign of Charles or Miss Newman.

"Where's my husband?" Wendy asked.

Joan pointed in the general direction of their house. "He's dealing with the cops, helping them fill out a report. Miss Newman woke up a while ago, but only to ask for somewhere with more privacy. Nana offered to let her sleep in her room while Nana watched the kids. That poor woman, having her house burned down and then dealing with a home invasion at your house. I'm surprised she hasn't had a heart attack. We thought it best to let her sleep."

Wendy could say some choice words about Miss Newman, but that wasn't advisable. "What time Is it?"

"Eleven," Joan answered. "I have some coffee ready if you want it. I figured you, Charles, and our unfortunate new neighbor would want some."

She nodded. "That sounds good. When Charles is done with the officers, I need to help him get the house back in order, at least well enough for the girls to sleep in their beds tonight. Have they been any trouble?"

Joan shook her head and waved the question away with a hand. "Oh, certainly not. Kids are resilient. Although they were telling some imaginative and wild stories to explain what happened."

Wendy froze and then forced herself to go back to moving naturally. "What kind of stories?"

"More tall tales about ponies. Kristin even claimed to have been turned into a pony. Clearly, she got better," Joan said with a chuckle. "On a more serious note, you should consider stopping them from watching that dreadful She-Ra cartoon. That has to be where they are getting this. You don't want them confusing fantasy for reality."

Where were the lines between those two anymore? 

"If my daughters want to watch a cartoon about some fantasy hero when they have been through so much in the last few days, they are welcome to watch all they want. They need something hopeful."

Joan had the courtesy to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I know it must have been hard for them the last few days, between seeing their neighbor's house go up in flames and whatever happened to your house while you were gone. Let's get that coffee."

"Call me a little jumpy, but let me take a quick look to make sure my kids are alright first," Wendy said as she stood up. 

"Of course," Joan replied. "maybe I should go see if Miss Newman is awake while you do."

Wendy paused, thinking about what the elder version of her daughter had said about being magically exhausted. "I think it best if you let her sleep. She's been through even more than me and the girls. Personally, I don't know how she's still walking around. Sheer force of will, I guess."

Joan smiled. "Never underestimate the elderly. They've gone through more than we can imagine and are still here to talk about it. Nana out there can still accomplish more around the house than I can. But if you think she needs her rest, I'll leave her be."

Your aged grandmother shouldn't have to be doing things around the house at her age,  Wendy thought bitterly to herself. She'd always felt sorry for that older woman, doing chores around the house while Joan kicked back and relaxed. 

Wendy went out the front door. The girls were not far from the front porch, playing tag, perhaps not the fairest game, since Andrea was bigger and faster than either of her sisters, but at least they weren't fighting. 

"Don't worry. I've got an eye on them."

She turned and saw Nana sitting there. The older woman was in her eighties and looked like a shriveled-up prune, with thin white hair that looked like it hadn't been brushed in Wendy's lifetime. She looked frail like any impact would shatter some bone. Nana's eyes were still sharp, and they flicked periodically between the girls and the surrounding street. 

"Your daughters tell such amazing stories," the old woman stated, not looking at Wendy. 

"Children have good imaginations," Wendy said. 

Nana nodded. "Indeed they do. I wish my granddaughter was not so quick to criticize her kids for telling wild stories. James said he saw a unicorn in a van the other day, and Joan wanted to ground the boy for it. Can you believe such a thing? I talked her out of it. She still listens to her Nana, at least sometimes."

Wendy took a deep breath. "I'm not one to be critical of how someone else raises their kids. Certainly not someone who is being kind enough to have let me stay the night."

Nana grunted. "I wonder if her letting you stay was a good idea. I honestly don't know. It was the right thing to do, but I wonder still."

Wendy blinked. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to be a burden. We had nowhere else to go. We'll be gone before the day is out."

The older woman sighed. "Do you know what I did before I retired, girl?"

"Um...no, I can't say that Joan has ever told me," Wendy answered. 

"I was a math teacher," Nana informed her. "Imagine my surprise when I found your youngest puzzling over a napkin that unmistakably had calculus on it, in addition to things I could not recognize. Children have such powerful imaginations to be dreaming up calculus equations, don't you think? And at six years old, no less."

"That was just something Miss Newman gave her to hush her up. It's nonsense," Wendy said quickly. 

"I have never seen a child her age so invested in figuring out nonsense involving math, and I have met many many children," Nana replied. "She asked me to help her figure it out, but there were things about it that I didn't understand. I might be old, but I'm still capable of recognizing whether something is gibberish or if there is order to it, at least with math. I might not have understood everything on that napkin, but it wasn't gibberish, and no child cares so much about math unless they know for certain there is a reason to."

Wendy stiffened. "What are you getting at, ma'am?"

Nana looked her in the eyes. "That woman arrives in the neighborhood, and shortly after, someone burns her house down. Then she goes to you for help, and you vanish for a day, and while you are gone, someone raids your house. Now she is here, and I wonder what that means for my family. I wonder who I have sleeping in my bed right now and why she writes such strange things on napkins."

How am I supposed to answer that question? Wendy thought to herself. 

She rubbed her cast with her free hand and looked back at the street. "I don't think I can give you a believable answer to that. This isn't about her, at least, not directly about her. You forgot the people that tried to run Charlotte and me down and what knocked us in the street before Miss Newman's house went up in flames."

Nana gave a slow nod. "I didn't but didn't think it connected. What is this all about?"

Wendy shook her head. "You would never believe me. No one would. We'll be gone as soon as Charles is done with the police. Hopefully, we haven't brought anything bad down on you and your family. Does anyone in your house have a gun?"

Nana shook her head. 

"Well, be ready to defend yourself however you can, and keep your eyes on your windows and don't discount any crazy story the kids say."

Nana looked back at the girls playing. "Your girls tell crazy stories that Joan would never believe."

Wendy gave her a skeptical look. "But you do?"

Nana shrugged. "I don't know. I'm more open to believing them than my granddaughter. I have seen the world change so much in my life. It is hard to say anything is impossible anymore. I accept that there is more I don't understand than what I do. I won't condemn you, girl. You need to keep your family safe. I just hope you haven't endangered mine."

"I hope so too," Wendy said grimly, as she turned to go get her coffee.