The truck pulled into the driveway smoothly, it really had been running like new lately. Bobby hopped out and Anna kicked the passenger side seat forward, in an attempt to usher him out of the way quicker. "Hey, watch it brat!" The highschooler spat back into the truck at her.
The eagerness which Stan felt to get inside to Mary was being combated by the knowledge that the court case was still ongoing. This isn't fair to her, I know I said we would wait this out as long as we can before trying to get outside help, but...God, how are my folks gonna react? His bet was still admittedly on Herbert wanting to start a sitcom, somehow.
"Why don't yah make me, Bob Chuck!" Anna stuck out her tongue and rolled away from the backpack Bobby swiped at her. She jumped out the other side of the truck behind Stan, while calling out her rebuttal to her big brother's attack. "Jerk-butt!"
I mean...what if it gets worse, what if she's an actual horse by the end of this!? Stan shuddered. Tribulations so far aside I just don't know if- Stan walked in a trance past the garage and through the back gate. His kids danced around him in mortal kombat.
"Dad! Anna's throwing rocks at me. Dammi-"
"That's nice Bobby, no cussing around your sister..." The sun shone brightly off of the back porches' white siding, but at the moment it looked like the portal to some hellish unreality, to Stan.
One thing at a time I guess...I'll break the news to her again, and then insist we at least tell mom and pop. Maybe they know something... What they could honestly know that would help was beyond him, but then so was the whole situation. If nothing else maybe more family can ease the tension...
Stan went to unlock the back door to the house. It was already open however, leaving only the screen door closed. Mary wouldn't have left it unlocked... He turned to his son. "Bobby, did you leave the door unlocked?" Who was busy fending off a retaliatory assault from his sister.
"Knock it off, mosquitoe!" The two siblings swatted at each other with schoolbags while their father nervously peeked inside. He was wary as he entered, so wary that Anna dove under his arms and into the house in a mad sprint for freedom, before he could react. Bobby shrugged when his father glared back at him. "What? She hit me first, I can't be expected to put up with abuse from all three of you..." He picked up his bag off the grassy back-lawn and pulled his hair behind his ears. "Did you say something about the door?"
"Nevermind." A shout came from inside, and Stan jumped in after his daughter.
"GRANDMAAA!" Anna flung her backpack aside in the manner someone would throw away a forgotten piece of refuse.
"Oooooh! Hello pumpkin! How are you? Crepes you're getting big aren't-cha?" Stan slid to a stop at the exit to the mudroom, his mother and daughter were merely in a familial embrace.
You gotta relax, Stan... The big father said to himself.
Agnes set her granddaughter down with a thump. She quickly took notice of the rest of her other family coming in. "And good afternoon to you too, Stan. Bobby, come give your gran a hug!" Anna was already scampering off to the back of the house as Agnes attempted to sweep up Bobby in an endearing embrace. "How was your day? Do well at school today?"
"Was fine." He intoned drearily. Agnes did all the hugging, Bobby stood there and suffered through it. "Could've done without Anna being... Anna." Bobby paused for a second, eyes shifting. "School's fine too."
"Well, you be good to your sister Rob, even if she is a handful for everyone around here." That earned a smirk from him, afterwards he was released and he continued towards the stairs lackadaisically.
Stan walked up behind his son and watched him go, then spoke when he was out of earshot. "He didn't actually go today, boy's suspended. You know he's the handful right? Not Anna."
"Well of course dear, anyone with two cents worth of sense can see that. But he has your sense when you were that age, so he doesn't see it. But, it's best not to rub it in. I think he's going to have to figure things out the hard way, and on his own. You young men have a way of being stubborn for no good reason at all."
Stan crossed his arms and breathed the words for his response out tiredly. "Mar worries about him day and night, she doesn't want to...let him 'figure things out' on his own." It had been easy to see that Bobby had just sat in his office earlier that day, eating the snacks from the lounge. To Stan it certainly didn't seem like the boy was in the midst of any personality breakthroughs or epiphanies...
Agnes nodded at every word he spoke, then stuck a finger up under his nose. "Oh, I know, but he's her son too, you see. What she does is up to her, whether that's ask for advice or try to corral the boy. One thing I told myself I wouldn't do is stick my nose where it doesn't belong." Briefly, she put on a thoughtful look, then added. "I do think some hard labor would straighten Robert out though, she should try bringing him over to the shop sometime."
"That didn't work with me, Agnes, prolly won't for him either..." She opened her mouth to interject, but Stan continued. There was a more pressing concern weighing heavily on his mind. "How is she?" He asked solemnly.
"Mary? Well, last I saw her, she was covered head to tail in fur, oh she actually had a tail too, and she was busy making 'Ripley's Believe It Or Not' seem like a joke." Agnes crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at Stan.
Her son sighed and leaned his back against the doorway, also crossing his arms. "Agnes, I'm being serious here..."
"Sorry, and call me mom for Heaven's sake..." Agnes made a thoughtful sound, then pressed on. "I was just trying to lighten the mood, it's doughy enough in here to use it as a pie crust for a pastry..." Stan's forehead wrinkled at his mom's latest comparison of worldly drama to baking. "Mary needed cheering up earlier, certainly, I forget how tough you like to be, though." She reached up and shook his cheek roughly, his face remained stiff, and devoid of emotion as it underwent the mistreatment. "We talked, she had a little break down, which is completely understandable, but she's doing well in my opinion. Mostly we made plans and such..." She trailed off, as if unsure where to continue with the exposition.
Stan scratched a hand through his beard, though it was secretly to sooth the ache his face had now accrued. He spoke when his mother didn't continue. "So you saw her then after all, I take it, she'd asked me to wait before we...acted in any way. Sorry for not saying anything, I think she hopes it's temporary, the change I mean. God send that it is..." Agnes' face had taken on a pained look, no doubt despite her wanting to be a pillar for him. "Did she call you over?"
He considered his own words for a moment, and if this changed his view on the world at all. Mary didn't believe in religion or an almighty, they'd talked about it casually a few times. Do I anymore?
"Mary was kind of hard to miss, Stan." Agnes answered quaintly. "Admittedly, she hadn't been expecting me, so no I just came over expecting to make some soup for her and then be on my merry way! When you told me she was sick I...I just assumed it was a cold." Agnes flourished one hand in the air for emphasis, the day had turned out pretty differently than what she had imagined it would, certainly. Even she was a little on edge, but it was something that she sorely didn't want to show to her family.
In answer, Stan's gravelly voice rumbled a response detractedly... "Well, I'm actually really glad you came over. I shouldn't have been leaving her alone, even if it's what she wanted. I was...scared for her all day, to be honest. I dunno if I can leave her again tomorrow." His fist balled up a little before he released it.
"Well, me and Herby will stick around if she wants us to, there's no use crying over spilled milk Stan. Everything happens for a reaso-" Stan cut her off sharply.
"Are you really suggesting this happened for a reason, Agnes? What possible fu-" Stan bit his lip and turned away to look at the ground, unfortunately for him his mother was short enough that looking at the ground brought her into view perfectly. It was a terrible way to avoid eye contact, as it turned out. After she stepped up closer to him, she wrapped him up in a gentle hug and patted his shoulder. She had to stretch her arm up though. "I'm sorry..." He muttered. "What are we going to do?"
"It's okay. Well," Agnes continued. "I've only had half a day to think on it... But it was simple enough to arrive to a conclusion, at least for your wise ol' mother it was." She smirked up at him, stepping back. "We'll cope, be there for one another, discreetly find a solution. I'm going to make her some clothes I think, the one she has won't do any longer. I've already thought up a few designs, myself. She can still come over and work at our place certainly, I think she should, too. Waiting here isn't good for her, Stanley..."
Stan began to respond, before she raised her voice after another thought hit her. "You know! A better question would be... What caused this? I thought about it all day, too, some government experiment or something? How is this possible, hm?"
The question caused Stan's brow to furrow, it had been crisscrossing his mind all day, too. One of his biggest fears had been coming home to an empty house or a ransom note. Briefly, fear shot through him as he realized he hadn't even seen Mar yet, but it abated after remembering that Agnes had been here all day.
He gave his mother a hesitant answer. "It isn't possible, mom... but somehow this happened anyway."
The pictures were scattered across the floor in front of Mary. She hadn't meant to simply dump them out like that, but she found that now they were on the floor that picking them back up was an impossibility. Photographs of her enlistment to the Land Force Command lay at the top presently... Although it was now called the Canadian Army. Those were some happy times. An image of her and Stan playing Texas Hold 'em overseas was on the side of the pile, she couldn't remember who'd taken it.
From her bedroom, Mary heard the back door to the house bang open resolutely, and the sounds of shoes beating the floor. On instinct, she double checked the little latch that kept her door locked. The pony took several deep measured breaths to calm herself, even though they had decided not to reveal her condition just yet...the idea had her nervous all the same. What am I going to do tomorrow though?
The plan was to have everyone home the next day, then break it to Herbert and the kids. True, Bobby had already missed two days of school... I guess I could just wait for the weekend...
It had been the only thing they had argued over. Mary just wanted to reveal it to them right away, get it over with... This was still her life, leaving on hold just..wasn't an option. Even if it's not the same, it's still mine. Her hooves rubbed together idly as she considered the plans.
Agnes thought waiting at least a day would be better, maybe longer. She'd said that it could still run out or whatever, Mary hadn't relished the false hope. I mean yeah, it could, but I've spent two days fretting over this and letting it...just letting it eat me up. What Mary wanted was progress in some direction, it didn't matter what.
There was a steady knock which filled the bedroom, and her head craned from the direction of the back door to face the source of it. The quiet sound of her daughter's inquisitive voice followed it.
"Mom!" She called through the door in a harsh whisper. "It's me! I'm back, are you better yet? Can I come in, please?"
"Hey sweetie...no mommy's still really sick." Instinctively she hunched her shoulders and pawed the ground with one hoof, without noticing. Don't worry about me Anna...I'll be out soon, I just hope you'll still see me as...me.
"Okay...I'm sorry I didn't bring you dinner yesterday, dad was a stink butt and wouldn't let me..." Mary heard her daughter sigh and thump against the door, likely sliding down it to take a seat. "Have you felt better at all today, mom?"
Mary shook her hoof at noticing the groove she was starting to dig into the floor. Darnit, stupid hooves...
"Uhm, that's alright Anna, I don't want to get you sick too, after all. I-I have been feeling a little bit better...I might be able to get back to things as usual, tomorrow." The words felt really hollow, and forced to Mary. Anna was likely able to tell too, she thought. There hadn't been much effort put into making them sound convincing... The plan was to simply explain things to the kids, and Herbert tomorrow, then take the day off. Foolproof, yep.
She thought of the days that were likely to come. It was obvious it wouldn't be a good idea to dwell, but it was hard not to consider who this would effect besides her. Our son will probably take it the hardest... They had thought about sending the kids away, to her parents, or maybe Agnes', to keep herself safe, but that didn't sit well with her. No one would believe them anyway really. Oh this is just...woo sa, Mary.
"Mom? Are you still there?" Mary returned from her revery. "I'll come back and talk to you if you're lonely..."
"Oh, that..." Her eyes searched anxiously across the room for what to say, she decided it couldn't hurt. "Would be lovely, Anna. Thank you."
A laugh came through the door, followed by, "Don't worry, mom! You'll be better in no time!"
Mary deadpanned at the painted oak barricade, listening to the sound of her daughter retreat away on the other side. I really hope you're right, Anna.
The night was young, Agnes had stayed and made dinner, Bobby had left to sit in his secluded room, which left Anna to share the big table with her grandmother. The parents, once again shared a box to eat their meal on top of, hidden away at the back of the house.
"This is obscenely more difficult than eating the pizza, Stan," Mary lamented. Precariously balanced between both hooves, was her fork.
Stan grimaced at his wife's attempt to hold the whole steak upright between her hooves atop her utensil. "I know... that's why I offered to hel-" His wife glared at him from where she sat on the floor across from him, her glare piercing and serious. He clicked his mouth shut under the scrutiny.
"Oh no, I've got this, you just keep your keester put, right there." Mary opened her mouth wide and furiously assaulted the chunk of red meat. She managed to wrench off a piece of the juicy protein, and without spilling it onto the improvised table. "There," she said around a mouthful. "Nubbin' 'o it."
Stan stared a moment, wondering if he should say anything, then coughed. "Mar, are you sure you should be eati-"
Mary groaned in response to her husband's repeated question. "Honestly, probably not Stan, probably not. I had bacon earlier too, that didn't kill me though. I want my life to be as effected by this as little as possible." Mary took another, smaller nibble at the side of the dinner.
Stan sighed out his rebuttal. "I mean, you're not even that big on meat, you hate how often we make steaks...we can adjust, love." Mary shook her head stubbornly in answer.
"Only...only if we need to." The steak clinked along with the fork back onto the plate. "If we can keep things normal...we will." She nudged the steak itself with a hoof while she continued. "You know, it's funny babe, I was in a state just a few days ago about hair color and utilities." She gave a short, bitter laugh, then whispered. "I miss last week..."
Stan gave a consoling look to his wife, his hand covering his red beard and scratching through it absently, it was his tick for nervousness.
"I was upset you know, a little angry, mostly I'm just scared, now."
Stan leaned forward and put one giant hand on her shoulder, smoothing it. "It's alright to be, we're all scared together."
Mary laughed again and put a hoof up on his cheek, pursing her lips. "D'aw, you are such a sap when I'm in distress, it's cute."
Stan's brow creased and he scowled at her. I am not cute.
"Oh yes you are." His mouth almost fell slack when his wife replied to his thought, even in the right tone. Mary laughed from the telling expression he put on. Stan tried to deflect the topic immediately, she got weird when she was like this.
"So, how does the steak taste to you, any different?" Stan's eyes stared at the brutally mutilated slab of meat sitting on her plate.
"Tastes kind of funny...kind of...pale, but at the same time it tastes the same. Does that make sense?" Mary was successfully drawn off topic. Her face took on a look of consternation and confusion from her own words.
Stan answered her dryly. "Pale isn't a taste dear."
"You know what I mean." Her hoof collided with his shoulder, knocking him off balance to fall over from his crouch.
The food in front of Agnes was stirred absently under her spoon, not really tantalizing her appetite. She still felt guilty about making steak, it hadn't occurred to her that it might not go over well with Mary's condition. At least the very least the girl hadn't seemed to mind much.
"Gramma." Anna's feet kicked under the table lazily as she turned her head sideways, but towards her older guardian. "What exactly is wrong with Mom?"
"She has a-" Agnes paused in the act of lying, it occurred to her that if they were going to break it to them tomorrow as Mary had wanted... maybe she shouldn't perpetuate the story. Calling it a cold just wouldn't do. "well, Anna, your mother has a very... unique illness. But she's fine."
"Moon-eek?" The word struck the young girl as odd. Oh wow, that does sound really bad...I didn't know mom had a scared cold...that is bad. I wonder what she's afraid of?
"You-neek, dear, unique. It means different from any else, or very special. Mary has..." Agnes realized she probably should have just changed the subject, oh well too late now. "So, how's your ballet been going Anna? Having fun with the other girls?"
The granddaughter gave Agnes a funny look. "Eeh... I can't wait for it to be over, but it's okay. Mom likes it or whatever, so... Will she be better from the unique by Saturday?" Anna pushed the half eaten plate away from her with one hand and leaned on the table.
Agnes looked up in surprise, then diverted her attention to her own plate. "Uhm..." It would be too bad, but Mary couldn't go out in public the way she was, certainly. It wouldn't do to get Anna's hopes up, she decided, either. "Probably not, pumpkin. Are you finished, is that all you want to eat?"
Anna shook her head up and down vigorously, but had an upset look plastered to her face already. "Are you kidding me!? I only stayed in it so she would feel better!...This sucks."
"Anna! Language." Agnes reached over and tapped her hand.
"What, Bobby says it all the time and he doesn't get told not to. What makes him so special..." The chair scooted away from the table with a wooden screech and she hopped out of it.
Agnes called after the girl making for the stairs, and at mach five as always. "I promise you, your brother isn't supposed to be saying bad words either, Anna!" she called out, then huffed coldly. Her fork replaced her spoon and she began to stir the food on her plate once again. "Herby better have some whiskey left somewhere when I get home..."
Stan waved goodbye to his mother, she'd come to their door and told them the coast was clear, and that she was headed out. She asked Mary again if she was sure that she wanted to go through with things.
I can't believe she hadn't told me any of that, I was wondering what Agnes had meant by 'plans'. I'm not sure if this is a good idea at all... Maybe the kids won't tell anyone or it wouldn't matter if they did. But, this could be trouble. Stan didn't like it one bit, but, he supposed there wasn't anything to like about this. Except maybe watching Mar try to eat, heh. The grin split his face remembering his wife chase a slice of pizza with her mouth from the night before. It's a good thing I keep these thoughts to myself.
Stan came to the stairs and headed up them, his son's bizarre obsession with heavy metal made itself known more and more the closer he got to the room. The sheriff had decided, if this plan was going into action tomorrow, then Bobby at least needed to be spoken to. His balled up fist thumped to the door loudly so as to be heard. It opened quickly, and on the falling note of some metal singers ending scream to a song.
"Sounded like a good song." Stan began.
"You hate my music, Dad." Bobby flipped back the ridiculous growth of hair he insisted on keeping on his head.
"I sure do, can I come in?" His son left the door open and trudged over to his usual position in the corner, and Stan sat in the old recliner. It creaked under his weight in protest, the thing would probably break eventually as much as he came up here. "This is about your mother Bobby, and the family... and you."
Two shoes thunked onto the ground noisily in the rare quiet of Bobby's room, he looked up from the pillow he'd thrust his head into. "What's wrong with her? What's it got to do with me...?" He was quiet for a minute, while Stan chose his words, deciding whether or not to talk about certain things... Quietly, Bobby added. "Will she be okay?"
Stan interlocked his fingers and rested his arms on his knees. "After a fashion. It's uh... Not easy to explain Rob, not that... easy at all. The important thing I just wanted to tell you though, is we're all in this thing together. I know... I haven't been around much till recent years. It shows, and that's my fault. We need to stand together now though, we need you to stand straight, too. We need you to be a better person starting tomorrow."
Bobby was quiet for a minute, his eye twitched at certain sentences, and his hand flinched at others. The finishing coup de grâce his dad ended the talk-to with, vibrated in his head. He clicked his tongue, and answered Stan Morris.
"Yeah."
"I mean it Bobby, we really do need you." Stan said humbly.
Bobby was nodding his head rhythmically, half listening. He answered him though. "I know, yep." His son exhaled and fell back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "I suppose this next part is where you offer me ten bucks to cut my hair again and tell me I need to stop beating the tar out of the jerks at school-"
"No, that isn't it at all, you're not going to school tomorrow, either." Bobby raised his head again, and a curious eyebrow.
"Dang, I fu-" He gave his dad a weary look. "I screwed up that bad this time?"
Stan smirked at his son. "No, but..." His tone darkened, to match the topic. "Mar is... your mother really is that bad off." Pushing with his hands he got back up to his feet and started for the door. He always kept it brief with Bobby.
"What's wrong with her? Isn't it just a cold?" Bobby was getting up to his own feet, half following Stan.
"You'll see, tomorrow, get some rest, Rob." Stan shut the door slowly, then started back down the stairs.
...
Anna poked her head out of her room after her dad was gone from the upstairs. Then, her head poked once more through another doorway, that of her brother's. The music was still off, and judging by what she had heard something serious had been said this time.
"Bobby?" A shoe flew at the wall beside her. "Hey! I just wanted to know what he saaaid."
"Mom's dying and we aren't going to school tomorrow, now buzz off squirt." The words struck a chord deep in Anna, so deep that nothing showed. The door clicked shut, and she walked in a trance back to her room.