Mischief Night (99)

PSI-1

Sanaam abandoned his trunk in the alley and pulled the cheap, painted mask over his face. It was from Wakoku, with bold red and white stripes, devil horns and a cartoonish grin. Something to do with traditional theater, but of souvenir rather than performance quality. It suited the purpose, and Calliope might get a kick out of it later. A different model, with adorable cat-like features that his wife would certainly hate, was wrapped up in belligerently pink poofy tissue paper and waiting in the trunk. He had gone up Eddows Lane and cut through Strawberry Square so he wouldn’t be seen. Maggie would undoubtedly be waiting for him on the front porch. Barnaby was very good at pinpointing arrival dates, when asked and provided with materials, and Maggie had the patience of a sniper.

He crept up on the toes of his black boots, hands already clawed and outstretched. He could just make out the back of a pigtailed head, with the body seated on the steps. He did not see Erik, who occasionally got bored of things and wandered off to play like a normal child.

Sanaam sat on the low, uneven edge of the wall and swung both his legs over. He knew the littered yard would not allow him any further silent passage, so he dropped all pretense and ran, bellowing, “Raaaarrgh!”

Maggie lightly sidestepped him, wrapped her left arm around his neck, grabbed his ear with her right hand and twisted.

“Ow, Maggie! Ow, ow, ow! It’s me! It’s me!”

“I know.” She removed the mask, easily rolling the elastic up his bald head, and examined the design. “You stamp around like a cape buffalo, Dad.”

“Ifrana’s deadliest animal,” Sanaam said. He stepped back and rubbed his ear, removing the wooden plug.

“I thought that was the mosquito.”

“Ifrana’s deadliest megafauna,” he repeated with identical intonation.

“What about hippos?”

“Ifrana’s deadliest megafauna that doesn’t fling its own poo in an undignified manner… You know, Mag-Pirate, sometimes it’s nice to pretend you’re not the smartest person in the room.”

“We’re not in a room.” She handed him back the mask and smiled.

He embraced her. “How’s Calliope? How’s the baby?”

Maggie sighed. “The baby is okay, but Milo and Calliope aren’t.”

“Milo and Calliope?” He pulled back from her. “Is it the brownies? Is it that stupid thing with the brownies? Did Ann find out about it?”

Maggie pushed a hand over his mouth and darted a glance behind her. “No,” she said, more softly. “I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure it’s not that because Ann is still super mad at Mordecai and she’s not mad at Calliope. Nobody’s mad, it’s just like they’re really unhappy.” She shook her head. “Milo and Calliope were being really nice to each other, you know? He fixed the record player and they were always in there listening to stuff. It was like they were talking. But after Lucy, it all went to hell.”

“Lucy?”

“The baby. It’s a girl. Cousin Violet said a boy, but she was just messing with us.”

Sanaam blinked. “Who called Cousin Violet?”

“Erik. Uncle Mordecai wasn’t super thrilled about it, but I guess he needs the practice. Erik does.” She shrugged. “Maybe Mordecai does too. He’s really stupid worrying about things. That’s why Calliope had the baby in the hospital, he was worried.” Her tone was dripping with venom. “If he’d sucked it up like a normal person, Calliope would’ve been here, and we could’ve fixed whatever it was right away. Then I don’t have to come downstairs and find Milo crying at the kitchen table and he wanted to move somewhere else.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away. “It’s really stupid,” she muttered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sanaam offered weakly.

“I am talking about it!” she snapped. It was bad enough going through it the first time, now she had to hash over it for her dad and get upset all over again. She shook her head and tried to tamp all those emotions back down. She didn’t need more comforting. “It’s not bad like that now. Milo bought toys for Lucy and he let Calliope sketch where he has staples in his leg. It’s like they’re trying to like each other, but it’s not like before. Nobody listens to records anymore. Milo doesn’t even do the radio.”

Sanaam lifted a finger, “And, why does Milo have staples in his leg, please?”

“He spilled soup and fell in it. He broke one of your pots.”

Sanaam winced. “Ah. I should have thought of that.” Tempered glass was still glass. It had gone longer than metal cookware did in Hyacinth’s house, but when she used up the metal stuff it didn’t hurt anybody.

“Erik said it was Cousin Violet, so probably you couldn’t have done anything about it.” She motioned him towards the house. “Is your trunk around the back? I heard you pulling it and then stop.”

“Yes. But. Ah.” He took another step backwards. “Maggie, when I go in there should I be happy about the baby or worried about Milo or serious or subdued or what?”

Maggie pointed to his hand. “Put that mask back on and go ‘Raar’ and say ‘Happy Mischief Night’ and then let Calliope introduce you to Lucy. She’s been doing that. You won’t scare Milo,” she added. “He’s not home yet. I sure hope he remembered to get some candy or something.” The kids in Strawberryfield would eat Milo if he didn’t have a forfeit.

Sanaam reluctantly mounted the stairs. “What are you dressing as this year, Mag-Pirate?”

“Incompetent Leadership. Mom let me borrow her hat, but she says…” Maggie straightened and frowned like she was trying to swallow a pill, “‘Keep it in pristine condition, Magnificent.’”

———

“Ahhh, happy Mischief Night, little Lucy!” Sanaam squealed, cradling her. He lost all sense of decorum when presented with a tiny infant in a fuzzy hat with kitty ears on it. “Aren’t you adorable! Do you want a forfeit? Are you gonna throw eggs at your Uncle Sanaam?” He had some hard candies in his pockets, just in case, but they wouldn’t do much good for a three-week-old baby. He also had a rattle and some soft toys tucked away in the trunk — again, just in case.

Lucy regarded him gravely. She still didn’t have the hang of smiling, but she poked out her tongue at him. Hello, giant loud dark person. I guess I’ll put up with you for a minute. Like this hot thing on my head.

“It’s a cool mask, Sam,” Calliope said. She held it up and regarded the empty sockets at eye level. “Is it kabuki or that other one?”

“Noh?” Sanaam said.

“Huh,” she replied. “Well, it’s cool anyway.” She smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know from Wakoku, I’m third generation. Coffee and croissants and being annoyed about everything.”

“Are we annoyed about everything in Marsellia?” Erik asked. He was already wearing his mask — a black domino model, suitable for criminals of all kinds. He had eschewed the knit cap and black-and-white-striped turtleneck of the more modern species and picked out a tailcoat from a thrift store, which Milo had tried to shorten up for him. He’d been practicing saying ‘Stand and deliver!’ for days. He almost had it down!

“Comparatively?” Sanaam said. “I don’t think so.” He bobbed gently with the baby. “But we’re not shy about telling people when we are.”

“Having a fierce tradition of independence is not the same as ‘being annoyed,’” the General said tightly.

“But they’re very, very close,” Sanaam told Lucy, wrinkling his nose.

Mordecai popped out of the kitchen holding a twisted metal object which bore a vague resemblance to a spatula with a bite taken out of it. “Hyacinth, what have you done to the chef’s knife?”

Hyacinth folded her arms and smirked. “If you spend a couple of seconds thinking about it, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Mordecai.”

“How am I supposed to break down a chicken with this?” he demanded. “We are having company for dinner!”

“Funny, I thought we were having chicken,” Maggie muttered aside. Erik grinned.

“You could always butcher it with your cutting remarks,” Hyacinth said.

“They must be real Marselline people,” Maggie said.

“Fiercely independent,” Erik agreed.

“Now I have to go to the store!” said Mordecai. He turned and disappeared into the kitchen, still talking. There was the sound of drawers opening. “I specifically went shopping yesterday so I would not have to go to the store on Mischief Night. I know I bought candy. Hyacinth, where have you hidden the candy?”

“Give them contraceptive charms!” Hyacinth called over.

Lucy decided she’d had about enough of the giant stranger and the hot hat. She arched and complained, “Weh!”

“Ooh.” Calliope stepped forward and collected her. “Lucy says ‘I’m a real Marselline person too, you guys. I get super annoyed.’ I’ll see if she wants a nap,” she added. “Sam? I’m not done painting you naked yet, but if you wanna see what I have, it’s okay. And I finished the one with Milo… Well, I mean…” She looked aside. “It’s Consumerism Emerging from a Can of Spaghetti to Shame Mankind, but he posed for it, if you wanna see that.”

“I would like nothing better,” he said. He paused and cleared his throat. “Ah, but after that, I think I had really better take a few minutes and see to my wife.” He looked back at her and smiled.

“Please allow at least a half hour,” the General said. She made… a very small smile in return. “Don’t sell yourself short, Captain.”

———

Milo arrived home concurrently with Ted and Maria and Bethany and Pablo — who were trying to split the difference between giving Bethany a chance to try out her costume and avoiding the worst of the hordes.

“Forfeit, Mr. Rose!” Bethany cried. She held out a paper sack.

Milo also had a paper sack. He clutched it against him with one arm, plunged a shaking hand into a pocket and quickly produced a foil-wrapped chocolate. Bethany cleared her throat and rattled her bag. Milo dropped the candy in.

“Say ‘thank you,’ Bethany,” Maria said.

“Thank you, Mr. Rose!” Bethany replied. She retrieved the chocolate from the bottom of the bag and examined it. “Ooh, that’s a good one.”

“Not before dinner, honey,” Ted put in. He shifted Pablo against his shoulder. The red baby was wearing a green hat and wrapped in a bunting that suggested a pea pod.

He should be strawberries, Milo thought. Or a tomato. He winced and brushed at the stain on his shirt. At least Pablo wasn’t old enough to scream ‘Forfeit!’ at him and chase him around.

“Didn’t you have candy before, Mr. Rose?” Maria asked him.

Milo weakly shook his head. He did, but he’d left it in the bag and he wasn’t fast enough. Or they just wanted to throw tomatoes at someone and it was an excuse. There were a lot of mean people on Mischief Night. If you stayed out too late (or you didn’t have a place to go home) the big kids would throw firecrackers. Or pull knives on you.

“I got eggs,” Bethany said. She removed one from the cloth bag tied at her side. “Daddy said leave ‘em out so they go bad but Mommy said that’s too much.” Maria frowned and Ted looked vaguely embarrassed. “Am I scary, Mr. Rose?” Bethany asked with a grin.

Milo nodded. He wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be, it just looked like a black dress, but everything was scary on Mischief Night. Eggs and tomatoes and screaming children just came out of nowhere.

“Put your hat on, querida,” Maria said. It was a conical black model with a wide brim.

“Boo!” Bethany said.

Bethany collected another forfeit from the front door of Hyacinth’s house, after a brief wait while thuds and shrieking emanated from inside. Hyacinth welcomed everyone into the chaos, though Milo preferred to hang back by the wall and be as little noticed as possible. It seemed like the whole world was crammed into the front room, half of it giggling and running around. Erik and Maggie were in costume already, and Soup was there. Erik made a serviceable highwayman, even though they hadn’t been able to find him a hat to go with the coat. Maggie also had a coat, a blue one with embellishments that would pass for military — she had red-painted cheeks and a permanent smile, and her hair was pulled back in a single tail. Soup’s outfit was what Mordecai recalled as the only approved Mischief Night disguise from his own childhood: poor person, but more threatening. His clothes were in tatters, more so than usual, and his face was liberally blackened with soot. Milo didn’t notice much difference.

“Hey, there’s our escort mission!” Maggie said. “Happy Mischief Night, Bethany!”

“Happy…” Erik began. He drew a couple breaths while everyone stared at him and waited and then he gave up. He held out a striped pillowcase with ‘SWAG’ written on it in black marker and cried, “Stand and deliver!”

Bethany clutched her bag nearer. “Nuh-uh! I don’t have to until I grow up.”

“It’s all he can say,” Soup told her, aside. “He’s too excited. His tang’s tungled.”

“Nuh… uh!” Erik said.

“That is a ridiculous stereotype, Bethany,” the General opined. “Mrs. Toussaint, I am surprised at you.”

“They’re only playing, General D’Iver,” Maria said.

“Is he a tomato-pod, Teddy?” Calliope asked breathlessly. She had also been involved in the giggling and running around. She was wearing Sam’s mask and she pushed it up to her forehead, like Cin’s goggles.

“Uh, no,” Ted said.

“That’s such a cool idea! Lucy’s a kitty, but she doesn’t like things on her head so we just have to pretend. Sam’s got her right now, she likes him, he gave her a gourd!” It was a traditional baby rattle from San Matteo, but Calliope was more impressed with the gourd part. “Does Pablo have a gourd? Sam might have another one, he’s got magic luggage!”

“You worry me, Miss Otis,” Ted said.

“You should have a broom to ride,” Soup said.

“I did,” Bethany said. “But Mommy put it up ‘cos I was hittin’ people with it. What’re you supposed to be, Maggie?”

“Stupid,” Maggie replied. She grinned, which came out even wider with the red paint, and stuck out her front teeth. “I’m a legathy admithion to a very pothh military thchool, becauthe that ith fathionable for thothe of my thature.” She tipped up her chin. “Now I’m in charge of men’s lives and I barely even know what a hat is. And I’m in politics.”

“It’s terrifying,” Erik said gravely. “My uncle says they had a whole revolution to get rid of those people but it didn’t help any.”

Maggie stuck out her teeth again, “Like cockrothheth!”

Soup cackled. “Cock-roses!”

“Master Rinaldi!” the General said.

Maggie gave him a nudge. “Geez, Soup, not in front of the adults.”

“Did you remember Nievas, Milo?” Calliope asked shyly. She approached him sideways, without looking. “Did they have any?”

Milo nodded. He unclasped the rumpled paper bag and handed it over.

“Awesome. Thanks.” She unrolled the top and peered inside. There were two crimped paper packets with a friendly snowman emblazoned on the front. She approved of the snowman, even though he only had two segments. He wasn’t a species. It wasn’t like four legs on an ant. “Ooh, you got extras. Do you like these too?”

He shook his head. He didn’t know, he’d never had those, but they were for Calliope. She asked.

“All mine?” She frowned. “You had to get candy anyway, right?”

He nodded.

She nodded, too. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks. I can’t go shopping yet, you know? Cin says maybe I’m allowed out on Cloquette Day, but I still gotta wait through Ghost Week. At least it’s not Ghost Month like Wakoku. Did some kids get you or is that lunch?” She indicated the stain on his shirt.

He didn’t even try to get it across. He dropped his head and shook it.

“Yeah,” she said. “Do you wanna get changed?”

He nodded but did not look up.

“It’s loud,” she said. “It’s okay.” She didn’t want him to think… that she wanted him to go. But she didn’t want him to stay when it was so hard. He was already walking away. “Hey, Milo?”

He stopped but did not turn. She lifted the bag and pointed to it, regardless, “I’ll pay you back, yeah?”

He sighed. She doesn’t want me to give her presents, Ann. Lucy is okay, but not her.

Maybe just not yet, Milo.

Milo nodded. He climbed upstairs to get changed.

Sanaam cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Calliope. I think Lucy’s either bored of me or she’s hungry. Are you doing bottles or, um, well, not?” He made an awkward gesture.

“About fifty-fifty, but I’ll let her try me first,” Calliope said. She pulled up her shirt and stuck her breast in Lucy’s mouth.

Sanaam blinked but recovered. Hell, ladies went around with no tops on back home — well, his other home. It wasn’t the substance, just the context. “You wouldn’t like a blanket, would you?” he asked. “It’s getting cold.”

“I’m okay for right now,” she said. “You don’t mind my tits out, do ya?”

“Not at all.” He put an arm around her and turned her away from Ted and Maria, who did seem to mind. “Are you doing okay, Calliope?” he said softly. “I don’t mean the cold, I mean… Well, Maggie said you’d had a fight.”

“A fight?” She shook her head. “Em yells when he’s worried, I didn’t know and I got mad and yelled back, but it wasn’t really a fight. I had Lucy at the hospital. It wasn’t great, but it was okay. It’s not like I have to do it again…”

“No, no. A fight with Milo.”

“That wasn’t a fight, Sam,” Calliope said. “I just said no.” She sighed. “I guess that’s not okay yet, but we’re doing our best.” She smiled bravely.

‘No?’ Sanaam thought. He froze his smile because it wanted to fade. Oh, no. Poor Milo.

…And poor Calliope, he decided. Also.

He patted her shoulder. “That’s all right, then.”

Mordecai climbed a few steps and clapped his hands. “All right, is everybody in here?”

“Ann isn’t down yet!” Calliope called back.

“Barnaby is hiding from the annoying children!” Hyacinth added.

“Room 101 never comes out!” Maggie said.

“Well, I’ll make sure Ann eats something, and I don’t care about the other ones!” Mordecai replied. “Now, will the annoying children be sitting down and eating like civilized people, or do they want to bolt some sandwiches and run off to commit extortion? I have prepared for either eventuality! We do not have enough chairs for everyone to sit and eat at the same time!”

“Sandwiches! Sandwiches!” Bethany cried. After a pointed glance from her mother she added, “Please.”

Soup mentally weighed the time he would spend eating a real dinner versus the food he could get committing extortion. “Yeah, sandwiches are good.”

“Fine,” said Mordecai. “Present yourselves in the kitchen to assist me in slicing and spreading and then yell at me when I get your orders wrong. I will be in with mayonnaise and cold cuts in a moment.” He descended the stairs and turned for the basement.

Maggie wrinkled her nose. “Mayonnaise is made out of raw eggs, you guys know that?”

“I thought it grew on trees,” Soup said dryly.

“Ew,” Erik said, picturing it.

“I got raw eggs!” Bethany said. She showed one.

“Uncle Mordecai helped me make flour bombs,” Erik said.

“Eggs in ‘em?” Soup asked.

Erik sighed. “No. Not even any dye. He said if I want to be evil I hafta wait’ll I’m older.”

“I’m old enough,” Soup said. “I got whizz-bangs.” He showed a handful of little paper packets with twisted tails. “What’re you gonna throw, Maggie?”

“Oh. Just magic,” Maggie replied. She shrugged. “Fireballs, I guess. Unless someone really pisses me off or tries to mess with Mom’s hat.”

“You are the most evilest of us all,” Bethany said, with round eyes.

———

Bethany was delivered back to 217 Violena with a sackful of candy and apples (and one toothbrush) one hour after sundown as per negotiations. She was satisfied with her first unsupervised (technically) Mischief Night, but annoyed that Erik got to go out again with Maggie and Soup. “No fair! He’s little too!”

“Bigger… than… you,” Erik said, grinning. He was also quite enjoying Mischief Night this year. Nobody looked twice at him when he was in a mask, they couldn’t see his metal socket or the weird eye. He might have to take this up as a hobby.

“You have brain damage!” Bethany said.

“Hey…” Soup said, on Erik’s behalf. Erik could only frown and look wounded for the moment.

“Bethany, that’s enough,” Ted broke in. He put hands on his daughter’s shoulders and pulled her back. Mordecai also put a hand on Erik’s shoulder and stood behind him, frowning at the pink girl.

“If you can’t be nice to people, we are going to go home,” Ted said. “Mr. Eidel was playing music for us and we were going to have cake.”

“Oh, wait a minute, cake?” Soup said.

“I think she’s had enough sugar, Teddy,” Maria put in.

“No, I haven’t!” Bethany cried.

“Were you going to have cake right now?” Soup said. “Because I have a couple minutes for cake…”

“I’m gonna hex you if you don’t say sorry to Erik right now, little witch,” Maggie said tightly. “Cake or no cake.”

The inflection, plus the hat, were terrifying. Particularly to Sanaam, who was familiar with both in a context of imminent death. He had to wrap his hand around the banister to prevent himself from rushing forward to break up the fight. Maggie is not her mother… Not quite.

“He does have that, though,” Bethany muttered.

“Yeah, and your dad’s yellow and wear overalls,” Maggie said. “If I yelled it at him like an insult, you’d get mad and want me to say sorry too.”

“I’m sorry, Erik,” Bethany said.

“Still… bigger,” Erik managed finally. He turned away.

“Please cheer up, Mr. Highwayman,” Soup said sincerely. “I have this uneasy feeling you’re delaying the cake.”

“Geez, Soup! Seriously?” Maggie spat.

Erik snickered. “Cake break,” he said.

“Yes!” Soup said. “Cake break!”

It was three tiers with orange frosting and Boo! written across the top in uneven black script. Mordecai had purchased disposable foil pans for the occasion. They had to stop eating halfway through and yell at some kids who were throwing paint at the house, but it was a good cake.

“I see you, Cornflakes!” Soup hollered, mouth full. He swallowed. “I’m gonna tell Seth you were out doing vandalism that doesn’t wash off!”

“Up yours, Soup!” a female voice shrieked from the darkness.

Hyacinth considered the damage and shrugged. “Eh, it adds character.” Someone had put ‘MAGICIANS’ on the wall again too, and ‘DIE DIE DIE,’ but it was in chalk.

After the cake, Ted and Maria thought it was a good idea to go home before things got too crazy. Sanaam volunteered to go with them. “Oh, no, it’s all right. I have gummy spiders in my purse,” Maria said. Mordecai played ‘Cielito Lindo’ to say goodbye.

Maria wept and embraced him. “I haven’t heard it in years! But it’s vienen bajando. Vienen al baño is ‘they come to the bathroom.’”

“I’ll try to remember, but I can’t promise,” Mordecai said.

Sanaam put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from putting the violin away, “Oh, please don’t. It’s early yet. Maybe we can get Ann to sing.”

Ann and Calliope were sitting on the stairs and fussing over Lucy at the moment, and Lucy’s kitty hat, which Lucy apparently hated. Ann nevertheless found it adorable in the abstract.

“I really don’t think she will,” said Mordecai. He put the violin to bed and latched up the case. “Not with me playing. You might get her to do something acapella.”

Sanaam scowled. “This is all perfectly ridiculous, you know that, don’t you? I expect you people to work things like this out while I’m gone. When she finally figures it out, and she will, it’s only going to be worse because you’ve been lying to her.”

“Leave it alone, Sanaam,” Mordecai said. “You’re like Erik sticking his fingers in a pie to figure out what kind it is. It’s not ready. You’re only going to get burned. I know it’s completely stupid, but Ann and Milo and Calliope have enough to deal with right now.”

“Did he ask her to marry him? Is that what it was?”

Mordecai gave a vague nod. “I think so, but he really screwed it up somehow. When I saw her she was crying and she thought he didn’t like her anymore and she couldn’t take care of Lucy. Please don’t go sticking your fingers in that either. They’re just trying to get back on an even keel. If any of them want to talk about it, they will bring it up. We’ve been having big dramas over here and we’re sick of it.”

“This whole situation pisses me off,” Sanaam said. “I’m supposed to be on vacation.”

“If you need to be pissed off, go upstairs and yell at your wife. She can take it.”

Erik tugged lightly on Mordecai’s coatsleeve. “Gonna go… out with… Maggie and… Soup,” he said, but he was frowning. Not excited. Upset.

Mordecai leaned down and smiled at him. “That’s all right, dear one. But not too much longer, okay? I’d like you to come home and help us batten down the hatches.”

“You know nothing of hatches and I am offended,” Sanaam said merrily. “We staple them.”

“I’ll try to remember but I can’t promise,” said Mordecai.

After the kids left, Sanaam climbed up on the staircase with Hyacinth and sang ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’ off key until Ann gave in and did it properly. Then Calliope wanted to know if she knew ‘Monster Mash’ and of course she did. Hyacinth and Calliope danced. Sanaam minded the baby. Mordecai sat in one of the big chairs and tried not to ruin the first lovely evening they’d had in weeks.

The kids came home again about an hour later, Maggie and Erik for good. Soup thanked them for dinner and cake and left. He had no curfew, and there was free food and a lax police presence out there. He had run out of whizz-bangs, but he had a pocket knife!

Mordecai let Erik play violin while they all tried to wind down. He was almost able to get recognizable tunes out of it. Ann offered to teach him ‘Monster Mash,’ which he enthusiastically accepted. There were occasional thuds and crashes and breaks to shoo people away from the house. Some of them threw eggs and chalk bombs and toilet paper, but no more paint.

Maggie stopped Erik in the middle of a phrase (it was nice to have the excuse, she was never going to get ‘Monster Mash’ out of her head) and said, “Do you guys smell that?”

“Something is on fire,” Mordecai said.

They all bolted for the kitchen, expecting a flaming pile of dog doo on the back stairs, or maybe a smashed lantern.

Calliope was standing next to the oven and holding a twisted piece of newspaper. She blew it out. “Oh, hey guys. What’s up?”

“Calliope, what are you doing?” said Hyacinth.

She shrugged. “My birthday. I couldn’t find candles. I was gonna do it twenty-two times,” she motioned to a pile of twisted newspapers on the kitchen table, “but maybe that’s too much.” She snickered. “You think I was gonna torch the joint?”

“It’s your birthday?” cried Mordecai. “Tonight?”

“I guess until midnight,” Calliope said. She gestured at the table again. “I had Milo get me Nievas.” One package had been opened and neatly plated.

“But you didn’t say it was for your birthday, sweetheart!” Ann said, clutching hands in her hair.

“I would’ve made you a cake!” said Mordecai.

“You made one already,” Calliope said.

“A special cake with things that you liked in it and writing on top! ‘Happy Birthday, Calliope’ not ‘Boo!’ And candles!”

She shrugged again. “I like Nievas. And I don’t mind newspapers on fire and ‘Boo.’”

“I could make a cake like that!” said Mordecai. “What is that, coconut?”

Calliope grinned. “And marshmallow. It’s all chewy ‘cos they’ve been on the shelf for, like, ever.”

“Uh,” said Mordecai.

“What about presents, Calliope?” Sanaam said. “You should have told me before I left!”

“You already got me presents,” Calliope said. “Everybody got me presents. Glorie found me a house to live in, and Cin gave me the rent, and Em made all the dinners. And Ann bought me sunglasses and Sam got me furniture and Milo fixed the record player and he made me a frog and took me to the Natural History Museum. And the kids did that neat installation in my room and Barnaby helped me redecorate and he did ‘stainratlugnoco…’”

“Barnaby did what?” Sanaam asked in a low voice.

“I’ll explain later,” Hyacinth said.

“And that’s not even counting what everyone did for Lucy! I got flowers and toys, and bottles and diapers, and a gourd, and Erik almost made me a mobile, and everyone helped me take care of her. So I don’t get why this is a big deal,” she finished. “I don’t need more stuff.”

Erik stepped forward and lifted a hand. He took a few breaths. Okay, damn it, I can get around this. I didn’t slow down when Maggie could’ve got arrested for breaking the perfume. This is important too. Stand and deliver! “Birthdays are… fun. We could’ve been… happy with you and had more… fun.” He frowned and shook his head. “You hid fun from us, Calliope. That’s mean.”

Calliope’s expression fell. “Aw, man, really?”

Nodding all around. “Yeah, I guess that’s it,” Maggie said.

“I only wish to be kept abreast of current events!” the General protested, invisible in the back row. “And I had not yet completed today’s crossword!”

“I’m sorry, you guys,” Calliope said. She knelt down and hugged Erik. “I promise I’ll stick around for a long time and we can have lots more fun.”

Maggie beamed, even brighter than her painted-on smile. Well, hell, that’s all I wanted to hear…

“…And Em can make me a giant Nieva tomorrow if he wants to.”

Mordecai leaned in, “I’m sorry, dear, but were you saying you liked them stale?”

There was a crash from the other end of the house.

“Oh, god damn it, what are they throwing now?” Hyacinth said.

Calliope stood up with a big grin. “Was that my window? I think that was my window, you guys!”

Lucy had awakened at the disturbance and was bawling. Calliope collected her and surveyed the damage. The brick was lying just inside the bay window’s orbit, its momentum stopped cold by Milo’s safety spell, in a neat little pile of glass that had already swept itself up.

“Oh, thank gods, it worked,” Ann said. She hugged her own shoulders and shook the whole upper part of her body back and forth. “Oh, thank gods. Oh, thank gods, it worked.”

“It always works, Ann,” Maggie said.

“But Lucy was in here!” Ann cried.

Calliope never had any doubt. She was still smiling. She approached the gaping hole in the window, barefoot. The glass was all in a pile. She adjusted Lucy against her shoulder, cupped her free hand to her mouth, leaned out and called, “Thank you!”

“I guess you can sleep in the basement with Maggie tonight,” Hyacinth said. “Calliope, mind the glass.”

Calliope did not mind the glass — or much of anything, it seemed. “Cin, will you let me help you design the next one? I want a big skull! Or a saurolophus with the tail the right way! Or a soup can! …When do you think they’ll break it again?”