Cards on the Table (157)

PSI-2

Mordecai already looked worried, which Milo felt bad about. He should’ve done the cards faster, but there were a lot of people he needed to talk to and a lot of things he needed to fix.

With his default expression of mild concern, Milo handed Mordecai a card. It was labeled ‘Mo’ at the top, which Mordecai regarded with a frown. Is this a new nickname? I’m not fond of it. But he supposed it was better than the other thing Milo might be calling him. He accepted the card and read

Mordecai blinked at this. He peered cautiously at Milo over the edge of the card, in hopes that Milo might not catch the staring eyeballs or the shocked expression.

Milo stumbled back a pace, so that didn’t work.

Mordecai shook his head and looked down and away. He would have to unpack this without trying to glean extra information from Milo’s face… which was never very good for that sort of thing anyway.

Was it possible there were three people hiding behind that pair of glasses? Ann, Milo, and… and some person you never saw who was using both of them like marionettes in a puppet theater to express himself? Was this all some kind of Punch and Judy show orchestrated by a madman he’d never met?

Was this theoretical person even called Milo before… before whatever reason he started the performance?

He supposed it didn’t make any difference. Erik had a stuffed clown doll he’d decided to name ‘Erik,’ (well, ‘Ewik,’ he was two) that didn’t make it a real person and he did not believe the doll had decided to fingerpaint with its entire body of its own volition.

He glanced sideways at Milo, he couldn’t help it. Milo appeared somewhat more than mildly concerned at the moment.

Mordecai tried not to frown. He wasn’t mad at Milo. He was feeling a little upset with this hypothetical third person he’d just invented, though. If there was one in there, Mordecai wasn’t very happy with the way this person was treating Ann and Milo. Rather more unhappy than he’d been with Erik getting paint all over the clown doll. The clown doll didn’t cry and ask him to make it stop hurting.

Does it matter if they’re not real people if they have real pain? Why would you make someone just to make them suffer? What kind of monster does something like that?

If there was a third person in there, a real person, Mordecai did not like this person, and did not want to provide him with a dad.

…So, he was going to have to do his very best to set that aside and try not to think of it now.

“I’m sorry, Milo,” Mordecai said. “I’ve been thinking about things, and you just handed me a new one to think about, and I can’t help looking worried about it.” He shook his head. “About you and Ann… I-I can’t make myself believe things just to be nice. I have to… I have to take them apart and then make my own decisions, you know? But I know that’s not a good way to be, and I’m sorry.”

Milo shook his head, crossing his hands in front of him.

Mordecai lifted a hand to stop him and nodded. “I know, I know. You and Ann don’t want to change things, but I wish I could do this a little better for you. Both of you. I’m okay with how it is, I’m not mad. I don’t mind if you tell people that’s how it is — Erik’s probably going to find out anyway, and he’ll be thrilled — but I don’t want you to call me that. It’s not you. It’s a lot of complicated stuff I don’t want to bother you about. Is that okay?”

Milo nodded rapidly.

“Okay,” Mordecai said. He sighed and tried to smile again. “Hyacinth is going to have a field day with this, you know that? I’m going to get home one of these nights and find out she’s welded me an enormous bassinet.” He frowned again and lifted a finger, “Ah, but if she lays into you too much, you just tell me. I’ll consider that permission to unload both barrels at her. She should know better, but sometimes she doesn’t.”

Milo shrugged. He mimed putting a gun to his shoulder (badly, he really was going to need a copy of Recipes for Better Living if he wanted to overthrow the government) and pulling the trigger, then he shook a warning finger at Mordecai with a frown. Don’t shoot Hyacinth. I know she’s mean sometimes, but I like her.

Mordecai sighed. “Oh, Milo, she’s bulletproof anyway. She took a real one to the head that one time and now everything else bounces off. It’s like a game to her.”

Milo gravely shook his head. She just knows you shoot people all the time and she ducks. Cerise shot her, and she didn’t even mean to. I’ve shot her. He blinked. Don’t you notice that unless you’re the one doing it?

Mordecai wasn’t noticing him now. He was looking slightly away, then he glanced back and made that borderline-evil grin he did sometimes when he was aiming the gun. “Milo… If I’ve been your dad and we didn’t notice, do you have a mom?”

Milo shrugged.

“…Is Hyacinth your mom?”

Milo turned aside, put his hand over his mouth and considered that. Slowly the hand came down, revealing a tiny smile. He began to nod, hesitantly at first, then a lot more. Yeah… Yeah, yeah!

Mordecai dropped a hand on his arm and dragged him a few shocked paces towards the kitchen. “Let’s find her and tell… No.”

He caught himself. This time. And he let go of Milo’s arm.

“No. I’m sorry, Milo. Let’s… Let’s be really careful and not ever tell her that if we can help it, okay? She doesn’t like… I’m not sure what it is, exactly. She likes people, she’s not scared of them like you, but a lot of them have left her in the past and there’s a line she doesn’t like crossed or else she does get scared. I can’t quite nail down where that line is, but ‘you’re my mom now and there’s nothing you can do about it’ is definitely over it. That’s not you either, it’s everyone. Do you know that about her?”

Milo nodded. Oh, yeah, she didn’t even want to go to a cafe and insult people with Cerise. And she looked really sad about it. Ann thought she was being scared too, but in a dumb way like me.

I don’t think you or Hyacinth are dumb, Milo, just frustrating sometimes.

Because we’re being dumb, Ann. You don’t have to be nice, nobody can hear you.

You can hear me, Milo. Some things are harder for you than for other people, and sometimes I wish it were easier and I get mad and blame you for not trying however hard you need to just get it done, whatever it is, but that’s not you being dumb. That’s you being scared and me being impatient.

…Is it okay if we make Hyacinth our mom?

Ann was feeling a little frustrated with him right now for caring more about the mom thing than the not-being-dumb thing. I don’t think it’s really a matter of ‘okay,’ Milo. It’s happened already and we’re all going to have to live with it, even if we don’t mention it to her.

Yay!

“…Of course you do,” Mordecai was saying. “That’s because you’re a smart person, Milo.”

Milo just kept nodding.

“I could tell you the sky is green right now and you’d be happy about it, couldn’t I?” Mordecai said.

Milo caught that. He paused and shrugged, but he was still smiling.

“Okay,” Mordecai said. He backed a half-step towards his room. “I’ve… I’ve kind of got some more stuff to think about. But you seem like you’ve got a lot you need to say, there.” He nodded to Milo’s handful of cards. “Is any of that for me?”

Milo sorted them pensively. There was one, and he didn’t need to look for it. He made it just in case Mordecai wasn’t mad about the dad thing. Mordecai wasn’t mad, but he did seem to be sorta upset about it, so Milo wasn’t sure…

“Is it that other one with ‘Mo’ in the corner, Milo?” Milo appeared to have a filing system going on in there. ‘Ma’ was for Maggie, he assumed. Milo hadn’t known about Hyacinth yet when he made those.

Milo nodded. While shyly examining the pattern of Mordecai’s tie, he handed over the card.

Mordecai laughed. “I’ve been trying to work out just what in the hell ‘dad stuff’ means for someone your age. Do you have any ideas?”

Milo shrugged. He did, lots, but he thought it was better to let Mordecai pick. Mordecai had been a dad longer than Milo had known he had one.

“Do you want to overthrow the government?” Mordecai said.

Milo froze. His eyes kept moving, alternating between the wallpaper and the rather outdated cut of Mordecai’s suit. It needed tailoring — or at least altering, with magic. Milo wasn’t sure how to do that and couldn’t offer to help. Maybe he could look it up, but he’d need a suit he could ruin to practice. Relaxed fits were in right now, and linens, for the season. Rather stiffly, like a malfunctioning automaton, he hazarded a shake of his head. Uh, I was kinda thinking you could make me some cookies when Erik isn’t around and I could have all of them. That other thing seems… super hard?

Mordecai put up his hand. “Okay. Okay, I was just checking, I was just checking. That’s fine. Look, maybe you could make a list and get back to me, yeah?”

Milo nodded.

“Okay. Thanks. I’ll see you.” Nodding for him, Mordecai very gently shut the door in Milo’s face.

Milo grinned.

Dad… Mom and Dad… Mom and Dad… I have a full set! I’m like Maggie! Only better because they’re both here!

Milo, please don’t start calling them that…

Why? They can’t hear me!

I know, but if you call them that, I might do it on accident and they wouldn’t like it.

…We can go to the movies together and I can have one on either side of me and I hold the popcorn box in the middle!

…Milo, you don’t like the movies…

I’d like the movies if I had parents at the movies, Ann! I’d like going to the free clinic to get shots! They could hug me and hold my hand and tell me it was gonna be okay, and then we can have coffee ice cream with hot fudge because I’ve been a good patient!

…and if you really want to do that and not just pretend about it, you’re going to need to make room for Erik in the middle with the popcorn, at least.

Milo stopped cold on his way to the kitchen with his cards and his gleeful expression soured. Oh, that’s not fair. I’m way older than him. I should’ve been an only child for a long time.

Milo, for gods’ sakes, don’t make this weird…

Mordecai just asked me if I wanted to overthrow the government instead of eat cookies, Ann. Who’s weirder?

It’s not a competition, Milo.

I take after him, Milo thought, beaming. He danced his way across the dining room to an internal soundtrack which he did not need to hum for Ann’s benefit. They liked this one a lot at the club. She sang it sometimes, but only with a group, and everyone else was usually lip-syncing. We are family… I got two whole parents with… Hey!

Hyacinth happened to be in the kitchen, leaning over the sink with the washtub at her feet as she straightened the tines of an offending fork. Milo took her hand, lifted it, and gently spun her around to face him.

She pulled up her goggles and regarded him with a frown. “Milo, if you had another head injury you would tell me, right?” She brought up her hand and stopped just short of a touch-know, as if in warning. She knew Milo didn’t like to be touched without asking, except when she forgot.

He smiled at her. Oh, silly Hyacinth. I know you only want to inflict terrifying medicine on me because you like me a lot and you care. I’m still not gonna let you just do it, but I understand. He should’ve put that in the card. He should probably excuse himself and do a slightly different card, now that he knew about the mom thing, even if he wasn’t going to tell her about it.

But he had a lot to say already and Hyacinth understood his drawings pretty well in case he needed to add something. He handed her two cards, including the one he’d done in case Mordecai was okay with him telling other people about the dad thing.

To this, Milo would have added: I like how you remember we like to upgrade to fried rice without even asking. Thank you for saying we could live here, and for fixing the closet. You’re a really good friend.

Hyacinth had come to the end of card number one and she held it up with a casual smirk. “Thanks for giving me permission, Milo.” When she shuffled the second one to the front she discovered, blurred with a few erasures which she could not decipher:

“What?” she said. She crumpled the card in her hand and grinned.

Milo winced and waved his hands at her. He only made one of those because he didn’t know if…

“This is truly wonderful.” She dropped the card and it bounced. She was already striding away. “I’m going to make him buy you ice cream!” She turned and beamed at him. He was kneeling on the floor trying to straighten his card. “You like ice cream, doncha, Milo?” She cackled. “Do you want a pet? How about a camel? Their poos are enormous! — and don’t you dare clean up after it, honey!”

Milo stood with a frown. He put a hand on her arm and shook a finger at her.

My parents are always trying to shoot each other. This is very bad for my development.

Milo, please…

He pulled her over to the counter and drew on the kitchen pad — glancing up every couple of seconds to make sure she wasn’t running off to make Mordecai buy him a camel. He drew a wingtip shoe that was rumpled and somehow pensive and put a thought bubble over it with a rain cloud like a newspaper comic.

Hyacinth snorted and rolled back her head. “Oh, gods, Milo. He’s always doing that. I’m never going to catch him not thinking, it’s like a ‘thing’ with him.” She made quote marks with both hands. “He has a brain problem.”

Milo inclined his head in her direction with an expression that was at once incredulous and so acid it could dissolve an avocado pit.

Hyacinth touched a hand to her left temple and fussily brushed back her hair. “I enjoy mine, Milo. It’s not a problem.”

He shook his head at her. After a moment’s consideration, he drew a Ferris wheel and canceled it with an ‘X’, a decisive motion like he was doing vandalism on a restroom wall.

Hyacinth looked delighted. “Why shouldn’t we take the camel to Papillon Island, Milo? I think the poor creature would enjoy itself!”

He sighed. Hyacinth was teasing him, but she really didn’t get it. She was teasing him about not getting it. Calliope would’ve gotten it. She understood puns and metaphors — on paper, at least: You are not being fair. He got more literal. He drew the pale outline of a camel with a bow on its head and crossed it out like the Ferris wheel, then he crossed his arms and shook his head. I do not want a camel, Miss Hyacinth.

She frowned at him. “You take after him, Milo. You’re a total buzzkill, you know that?”

Milo smiled and nodded rapidly.

She snickered and turned her head aside. “Do you have some kind of moral objection to ice cream floating around in there?” She waggled an index finger in the direction of his head as if tracking the aerobatics of a housefly. “You’d better get into a dress and tell me in no uncertain terms, because ice cream and annoying Mordecai are two of my favorite things and I’m not going to give up on them for no reason.”

It’s okay if it’s not before dinner, Milo thought, but he just shook his head instead of trying to register an objection.

I don’t care if it is before dinner. I deserve it. I am a good person who deserves ice cream and parents.

“Good!” said Hyacinth. “Moral people get no ice cream! Remember that, Milo, that’s a lesson. It’s a fact of life!”

Ann’s voice at the back of his mind had an air of a tension headache: Oh, gods, this really is bad for our development…

Nah, Milo thought. Ice cream has calcium. He selected another card and pressed it against the kitchen wall for a brief alteration before showing it to Hyacinth. He did not hand it over. He only had one of these too.

“Maggie got the day off, so you’re going to find two of those in one place,” Hyacinth said. “If they’re not around back in the alley or in the front yard, you’ll have to wait and follow the police sirens.”

Milo nodded. He went out the back, then cut through the alley and around to the front.

Erik and Maggie were sitting on the porch steps, unusually subdued and not courting a police presence. Erik looked more worried about Maggie than himself, but he didn’t look so hot. It wasn’t just the bandage on his hand, that was new. He’d been unhappy since those guys broke his uncle’s arm. He wasn’t sleeping. He had dark patches under both eyes, although the one under the right was thinner with blue scars running through it and a silver lining at the top. Milo knew that part wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t like the bandage and the fight with Ann made Erik feel any better. And it was totally the fight that got Maggie in trouble, it wasn’t her fault she set Hyacinth on fire — she just got upset. She was curled over with her head resting in her cupped hands and her elbows in her lap. She wasn’t even wearing her gloves. Milo wondered if in her case that was indicative of parental neglect.

Milo, if the concept of parents were a baby bunny you would’ve pet it to death by now.

“…I just wish I knew if I was being punished, that’s all. I think I did that thing you were talking about where I messed up so bad she won’t, but I didn’t even hurt myself. It’s friggin’ creepy, is what it is…”

Erik nudged her and pointed, “Milo.”

“I heard him,” Maggie said, without looking. “I don’t care if he knows, he won’t tell.”

Milo nodded. Engaged in sorting his cards (he did too many for Calliope, he should’ve used a regular piece of paper) he failed to notice Erik’s expression crumple in concentration and rapidly resolve itself in a smile. But he did notice the hug. It made him drop all his cards.

He didn’t care.

Okay, he cared a tiny bit, but not more than about the hugging. He knelt carefully among the scattered cards and the dirt and hugged back.

“What?” Maggie said. Now she turned and stood. “Does he have candy? Is he taking us to get candy? Or the movies? Milo, I can get into movies for free! You wanna try it? Get your coat!”

They were ignoring her. Erik, grinning, held up two fingers and Milo nodded. Erik paused for a moment, then he pointed to himself and held up seven.

Milo leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. Hey, it’s not a competition, kiddo.

Erik pounced and hugged him again. “My… brother!” He drew back so Milo could see and held up two fingers again. “And… sister!” His expression crumpled again. Or two brothers? Or my uncle thinks maybe three…? I counted them with my moms and dads too…

Wait, are we cousins?

Milo got a vague impression of some language-related upset going on in there. He put both hands on Erik’s shoulders and, frowning, did his level best to convey the concept: Family. We don’t need a genus or species. It’s just official now.

Erik thought of a sticker he’d seen on a wallet at a street stall once: Genuine Imitation Cowhide.

Milo caught an image of a wallet with photos in it, including both him and Ann posing stiffly with Erik and Mordecai in an old-fashioned sepia still, with a sticker on it that said: Genuine Imitation Familyhide. He thought that was funny.

(Hey, can we do this whenever we want? I thought it was on random.)

(I dunno. It’s strong right now…)

(We have a connection now!)

“This is nothing at all to do with candy, is it?” Maggie said dryly, but she was smiling. At least she was here for it this time, whatever it was.

Erik sang, and Milo had an idea the kid was reading the music off of him like a cue card: “‘We are family! I got all my parents with me! We are family!’ Milo and Ann adopted my uncle on accident and we’re gonna have ice cream!” he added, all in one breath. He frowned and tilted his head to one side. “Why do you have to sneak all the cookies, Milo? That’s not fair.”

Milo sighed. That one was too complicated for words, it was like trying to describe an abstract sculpture in the dark. It feels kinda roundy over on this end, I guess? He didn’t want Erik to try and feel it out for himself because there were sharp bits in there too, like having to steal stuff all the time during the siege, and the workhouse.

Erik, don’t just ask them, okay? Are you getting this? Let me try to say it myself because I don’t want to hurt you. I like to have stuff, because I didn’t used to have stuff, and people could take it away. But I can’t have a person, and he’s your person too, anyway. I guess I can have cookies and have all of them and eat them and have them forever and I can’t eat your uncle. That came out wrong. Cancel. Cancel. Disregard. I don’t understand this myself. I know it’s not fair but I’d like it. But we don’t have to really do it. I think I’d get sick if I really did it. I’m weird. It’s not a competition.

Erik frowned. He thought he’d handed Milo a simple short essay question and Milo handed him back a ball of tangled spaghetti in feelings-sauce. Okay, I guess I’ll grade this later…?

“Milo, just say if there’s cookies I can have some,” Erik said gravely.

Milo nodded.

“Are there cookies?” Maggie said.

Erik sighed. “No, probably not for a long time because my uncle has a brain problem and Auntie Hyacinth thinks she’s funny. And she has a brain problem too, and Milo thinks she’s not being Ferris wheel about it.”

“Milo, do you happen to have anything sensible written about this?” Maggie said.

Erik cast about on the ground and put his hands on a few of the scattered cards, not reading them, more like he was playing hot-and-cold. “There was one about my uncle being Milo’s dad, but Auntie Hyacinth crumpled it all up she was so excited… not in a nice way but kind of in a nice way…? Grownups are weird, Milo, it’s not just you. Here, Maggie.” He handed her the card, which was somewhat dusty but not muddy. The spring rains were easing off and the summer ones weren’t there yet. The yard was almost habitable.

Maggie read: It’s OK, Maggie, Sometimes I Want to Burn People Alive, Too, and cackled. “Oh, gods, Milo, I don’t know what I ever did before you moved in!” She sniffled, brushed back her braids and tried to absorb the rest:

Maggie’s grin faded somewhat but did not vanish. “You’re being serious, huh?”

Milo nodded.

“You don’t really mean burn people alive, do you?” she said. “Not every time? Because…” She turned her head aside and dropped her voice to a mutter, “I can do other stuff.”

Milo nodded. I was kinda thinking we’d start with not killing anyone horribly and work our way down to… I don’t know. Not kicking them in the shins? Whatever’s less but still mad.

She frowned. “I want to be clear here. Are we making a pact to take each other out like snipers in case either of us gets out of line and might hurt someone? I mean, non-lethal. If possible. And only if the person doesn’t deserve it. You counter my magic, I counter yours?”

Milo nodded.

“This isn’t a metaphor for talking about feelings or some bullshit like that, is it?”

Milo froze. He was pretty sure he ought to say no, and he didn’t think Maggie was the best person to talk feelings with, but he didn’t think feelings were bullshit. He thought Maggie’s dress was too dark and somber and she ought to wear bold colors with more contrast. Or, any contrast. Any. Making your kid go around in a uniform all the time with no softness or pretty colors was definitely parental neglect. Weakly, haltingly, like there was dust in his gears, he shrugged.

“My uncle will teach you about feelings,” Erik said. He had found his cards in the meantime. He didn’t need to read them, but he liked having them anyway. It was nice knowing what Milo actually wanted to say to him instead of relying on whatever random information the gods wanted to tell him, like Milo was a football match they were narrating: Feeling anxious… Still feeling really anxious… Pretty shoes!

Erik’s cards said, like a secret whisper in a too-strict schoolroom:

Erik had sorted them into the proper order and then tucked them into his shirt pocket. They felt pleasantly warm, like a stack of fresh toast. He thought they’d fit okay in the case with his soldiers. He also stacked the ones for Calliope and put the one with red pencil on the bottom.

Maggie regarded him acidly. “You do realize if your uncle could do magic like he does feelings, he would be constantly surrounded by flaming, screaming people, right?”

Erik hefted a sigh and pressed a hand over the pocket, near his heart. “He’s… trying to be… better.”

Milo nodded at Erik and frowned at Maggie. That’s my dad you’re talking about.

Maggie offered Milo her hand. “I’ll take your deal, but I’m not promising I won’t get mad at you for messing with me and try to set you on fire. And maybe do it if I beat you at magic.”

Yeah, right, Milo thought with a smirk. He shook the hand.

He accepted the stack of Calliope-cards when Erik offered them, blushing at the red one peeking out from the bottom. He hoped Erik didn’t read it, but he guessed Erik didn’t have to read things.

He tucked the cards into his shirt pocket, behind a suspender. Calliope was going to have to wait a little longer. He needed to reorder this stuff and put it on real paper.

He headed for the basement where the colored pencils were.