Life Within Parole

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Life Within Parole Page 4

by RoAnna Sylver


  “We were?”

  “I can handle robot cats.” He smiled down at Jay, and when he spoke his tone was warm, steady, and free from any of his previous misgivings. “Even cats that talk in… that voice. As long as they make you happy.”

  “I can’t believe we’re related when you say stuff like that,” she said, but she was smiling. “I could never say that kind of mush with a straight face.”

  “You can’t say anything with a straight face.”

  “Oh! Damn! Never mind, I see the resemblance.”

  “All right, focus.” Rose sighed, and surveyed the wrecked kitchen. “That’s one crisis resolved, onto the next. Next time just remember… dogs chase cats.”

  “It wasn’t Dandy’s fault!” Danae protested. “He was just doing what dogs do. But he’d never cause a mess like this, he’s a good boy. He would never, ever, not in a million—”

  “Take a breath,” Stefanos advised as her face began to redden again. “If Toto-Dandy didn’t make the mess, what happened?”

  Danae opened her mouth—then stopped, an entirely joyless smile spreading across her face. “I’ll show you.” She bent down and picked up a fist-sized strawberry that had rolled under the kitchen table, then crossed the room, stopping before she reached the doorway that led into a much sunnier and more open space. The next room seemed to contain an indoor forest, thick with hanging vines and explosions of flowers soaking up the pale sunlight filtering through the skylight windows. This was Rose’s indoor conservatory, home to around half of the flora that spread throughout their house’s in- and exterior, filled to bursting with green life.

  She held up a finger for everyone to wait and pay attention, and slowly extended her arm with the strawberry toward the door, standing well away from the threshold. After a few seconds, an enormous leafy head snaked through the doorway at head level with surprising speed, and unhinged a gaping pair of jaws with long, needle-sharp teeth.

  “That!” Danae pointed a trembling finger at the snapping, straining giant Venus flytrap as she jumped backwards out of its reach, narrowly avoiding its fangs. “That’s what happened. That thing has always hated me, and today it—it struck!”

  “Oh, Serena,” Rose said in a soothing tone, hurrying over to pet the giant head that swayed back and forth on its thick vine-neck, its needle-point teeth dripping a clear liquid onto the linoleum. “Did you get scared too? It’s okay now, it’s all over.”

  “She wasn’t scared,” Danae said in a much more level, but no less vehement tone. “She was the one turning everything into her own little kitchen of horrors!”

  “Really?” Rose turned back to face her, still petting the giant carnivorous plant and now eyeing Danae with the barest hint of doubt. “Serena made all this mess?”

  “She took advantage of the chaos! She waited until you were gone! No, she lay in wait, until when everything was quiet, and when you left to find the cat, and I put Dandy in my shop, she—she struck!”

  “Struck you?” Rose’s eyebrows shot up.

  “No, the cake! When Jack and I were shutting Dandy in my shop, the monster plant ate it! First she ate the ‘Happy’ part,” Danae tilted her head to stare at the plant’s suspiciously smile-shaped mouth. “By the time we got back, she was going after ‘Evelyn.’”

  “Thank goodness she didn’t get her,” Jay snickered. “Parole needs its superheroine. Eaten by a giant flower, wh—”

  “I’m not done.” Danae turned her sharp gaze on him and he shut his mouth immediately. She reached out and grabbed something from the counter that none of them had noticed before amid all the rest of the devastation. It was a small, crumpled white T-shirt, which she shook out to reveal the word ‘BIRTH’ in bright red. The distorted, dripping letters and spatter all around looked like something right out of a campy horror movie.

  “Jack tried,” Danae said, starting to look a little dazed again. “I put the cake down on the table while I fought off Serena and he climbed up and tried to protect it. Just like his moms, I guess… instead he fell.”

  “Poor kid. How’s he doing?”

  “You know, better than I would. Better than I did, maybe. He’s four years old and already cool in a crisis. I dunno if that’s good or bad.”

  “And what a crisis. Gets attacked by a giant plant, falls into his mom’s birthday cake—there’s something weird and symbolic about that, isn’t there?—looks down, his shirt says ‘Birth’ in creepy bloody murder letters—I dare you to psychoanalyze this, Rose.”

  “My analysis is,” Rose said faintly, gently shooing Serena back into the conservatory. “Thank you for not showing that to us until after you told us it was strawberry and food coloring, Danae. And I’m so sorry about Serena, I don’t know what got into her!”

  “Ugh, it’s not your fault.” Danae dropped the shirt to the countertop again, then sighed and flopped back against it herself, finally exhausted. “Any more than Dandy’s mine. At least I could always program him not to chase cats. Not that I’d ever impede on his… never mind. It just happened so fast.”

  “I know, honey, but hopefully we can get it cleaned up just as… almost as fast!” Rose gave both her shoulders a squeeze. “Evelyn won’t be home for a little bit. We can still salvage the evening, you’ll—”

  “Hello!” Evelyn’s voice reached them moments before the sound of the opening door. “If there’s any surprises waiting, my eyes are closed!”

  “Oh no,” Danae whispered as she and Rose stared into one another’s eyes and matching expressions of quickly dawning horror.

  “Evelyn?” Rose called in an only slightly tight voice, turning around quickly and hurrying down the hallway toward the entrance. “Baby, keep your eyes closed for a second longer!”

  “Don’t worry, it’s not blood!” Danae tried to sound as cheery as possible, but some things would never come out any other way but disturbing. She grimaced as she turned to the potentially-terrifying room, frantically pointing at the fallen chairs, strawberries, and the worst smears and stains on the walls and floor. “Help me clean this up!”

  “With what?” Jay whispered back as Stefanos shook his head and followed after Rose. After a moment’s hesitation, Danae shoved a crumpled white-and-red cloth at him—Jack’s stained shirt. But before either of them could continue, Rose returned, and she wasn’t alone.

  “I promise, we’ll have everything cleaned up before you know it, don’t worry about a thing,” Rose reassured Evelyn as she led her by the hand. “We want you to enjoy tonight, really, we just ran into some… road bumps.”

  After ten wild, harrowing years in Parole, there wasn’t much that could make Evelyn Calliope stare. The magenta-haired superheroine was still in her stage clothes, punk-rock spikes and ruffles making her instantly stand out wherever she went, but especially at home. She had the familiar air of exhaustion and exhilaration that followed a show, and looked like she wanted nothing more than to change into something much more comfortable (with lower heels) and enjoy a quiet evening with family and friends before bed. Or that had been the plan at least. Coming home to find the house looking like a juice-bomb had gone off inside had not been on the night’s schedule. She was staring now.

  “This… this isn’t your surprise,” Danae said weakly.

  “Well,” Evelyn found her voice at last, but still seemed lost for words. “It’s still a pretty good one.”

  “I’m just so sorry,” Rose sighed. “This did not go as planned.”

  “That’s an understatement.” Danae snorted. “Ev, we suck. If you want to call this whole thing off and go out for pizza or something, we’d understand. This has to be pretty much the most disappointing birthday ever.”

  “Now that’s where you’d be surprised,” Evelyn said in a flat, almost deadpan tone, and nothing more.

  “I wouldn’t,” Rose shook her head. “Not with how you grew up.”

  “I know!” Danae shot an accusatory glare at the remaining “Day” cake. “That’s why we wanted so bad to give you so
mething really nice, Ev.”

  “It’s really fine.” Evelyn smiled, and after a fraction of a second it looked convincing. She was clearly still processing the shock of this and all other associated birthdays, but like always, she recovered by moving forward. “Let’s just get this cleaned up. And—are we waiting on anyone else?”

  “No, just us,” Stefanos said after the briefest of hesitations, as Rose started picking up the overturned kitchen chairs and Danae went to get a broom from her workshop. Hopefully by now, the worst of the icing would be dry enough to just sweep up, though the actual juice and dye stains would be trickier. Unfortunately, her mechanical animals weren’t as good at cleaning up food-messes as they were at creating them. “Ash went out on a run, and Rowan doesn’t—”

  “Doesn’t do parties, that’s right,” Evelyn finished, then turned to Jay before he could add the customary, perfectly-reasonable-in-Parole, but still-somehow-disappointing excuse. “And neither does your runtime partner.”

  “Hey, you’ll meet him eventually.” Jay pointed, emphasizing the resolution; the motion triggered the LASER-pointer extension in his glove, and for a moment a tiny red circle danced on Evelyn’s shoulder. Seven sat up straighter, eyes going wide as she prepared to spring—and Jay quickly dropped his hand. “Sorry! That’s new. Anyway… he can’t hide forever, I swear I’ll drag him into society one of these days. And I’ll even tell you his name! Or better yet, he will.”

  “I really would like that.” Evelyn smiled again, and although it was tired, it looked like it took less effort than her last one. She was starting to regain some equilibrium, and talking about something else, something not quite so close to home, seemed to help. “You’ve been running together for—what, eight years now?”

  “Coming up on it!” Jay never made a habit of hiding his happiness or pride, but he wouldn’t have been able to now, even if he tried.

  “And in a weird way, he feels like family already. Never seen his face, don’t know his name but…” There was a little mischief in her smile now, a glitter in her eye. “I hope I know it before we meet at your wedding.”

  Stefanos chuckled and went to throw his arm around Jay’s shoulders—but he found his usual spot newly occupied by Seven, so he pulled Jay close by the waist instead. “Now is it me, or do you get the feeling she just dropped several hints at once?”

  The noise Jay let out wasn’t quite words, but wasn’t entirely a giggle either. His cheeks flushed a brilliantly deep red, joining the warm palette that seemed to make up this day. “We, um. Haven’t picked a date yet.”

  “We’ll let you know as soon as we do,” Stefanos said much more serenely as Jay grinned down at the ground, busily adjusting his ponytail. “Wouldn’t be right without you there. Or your music, if you were so inclined.”

  “As if you have to ask,” Evelyn said, though there was no mistaking the way her eyes lit up when he did. “I’d be honored. Oh, speaking of—have you asked her yet?”

  Evelyn shot a glance across the room at Danae, who looked up, despite not being able to quite hear the exchange. Seeing Evelyn deep in conversation with her brother and his fiancé, she waved and gave a smile that was only mildly laced with suspicion. These misgivings may not have been so quickly confirmed if the three of them hadn’t all smiled and waved back exactly at the same time.

  “I’m gonna go get Jack,” she called, rolling her eyes and heading down the hallway toward the bedrooms. “He should be done with his present now. Try looking more suspicious, guys.”

  “Not yet.” Stefanos shook his head as he watched her go. “Figured you and Rose would want to be there.”

  “Oh, we will. She’s gonna lose it. In the best way, I mean, she’ll be thrilled. We all are, but really, she’ll just love being a part of this.”

  “Aw, that’s sweet.” Jay chuckled, then a look of vague concern slowly crossed his face. “She does know they’re just rings, right? Like, they’re not supposed to explode or shoot LASER beams or… wait.” The concern faded, replaced by curiosity. “Actually, I take it back, could—”

  “That’ll all come later,” Stefanos rumbled, arm still around Jay, but favoring Evelyn with a gaze that was easily read as warm and fond even with metallic eyes. “Tonight is about you, Evelyn. I’m sorry your party turned out to be such a bust.”

  “I keep telling you guys, it’s fine,” she repeated, a little more firmly. “If I just get to stand around and talk with my family and friends and not have anything collapse or catch fire, that’s still better than around ninety percent of birthdays I’ve ever had.”

  “There’s looking on the bright side. And hey!” Jay nodded to the single remaining piece of cake, battered but not broken. “No ‘Birth,’ no ‘Happy,’ but we still got a ‘Day’ left.”

  Knock-knock-knock.

  The room immediately fell silent. Everybody stared at the door. Even on party nights, unexpected visitors were rarely a good thing in Parole.

  “I thought it was just you two who were coming,” Rose said quietly, hurrying over to stand beside Evelyn.

  “It was.” Stefanos’ golden eyes narrowed their targeting focus at the door and he raised his weaponized arm. “Want me to get that?”

  “No!” Evelyn shook her head and crossed the room with confident strides, pushing Stefanos’ arm down as she went. “Whoever it is, I’m sure they’re a friend. And if they’re not… they came to the wrong house.”

  She took a deep, steadying breath, and opened the door.

  “I haven’t come to the wrong house, have I?”

  Garrett Cole stood in the doorway. He wore his customary sequins-and-glitter ringleader’s top hat and tails, and a wide smile. In one white-gloved, red-cuffed hand he held a silver platter, and on that rested an ornately frosted, multi-layered red velvet cake, delicate strawberries anchoring each long icing curve.

  “Garrett.” Evelyn stared at her old friend, as if out of all the bizarre and fantastic things she saw in Parole on a daily basis, this was the most impossible. He was hardly long-lost; they’d seen each other at the Emerald Bar not a full hour ago, and now he was here. “You made it after all.”

  “I had an opening in my schedule.” He gave a disarming little shrug, as if he was every bit surprised to find himself here as she was. He turned to give the cake in his hand a good, evaluating stare, then looked back up at her for approval. “I do hope I’m not too late to save the evening from disaster?”

  “It’s perfect,” she whispered, aware of Rose’s gentle touch on her shoulder as she came up to stand beside her, but still feeling caught in a half-dream state. This had to be some kind of birthday miracle. “My favorite.”

  “I know.”

  “How?” she marveled.

  “If it’s happening in Parole, I either caused it or I know about it,” he said simply, as if the alternative was a remote afterthought. “Big or small, important or inconsequential. And this is most definitely…” He extended his arm, and the cake, toward Evelyn, who carefully took it, her smile bright and eyes moist. “Important.”

  “You didn’t have to do this. I didn’t expect it. Ever.”

  “I know that too.”

  It was true. Evelyn hadn’t expected it in a million years. But after ten years of Garrett Cole’s uncanny and consistent habit of seeing, hearing, and knowing things no ordinary man could, being places he couldn’t possibly be, and turning up time and again like a bad penny (or a good friend), maybe by now she should.

  “Thank you so much. More than I can say.”

  “Then don’t say anything. Just have a perfect night, and may the best be yet to come.” Garrett Cole had many smiles; most of them flashy, showy, and meant to be clearly seen from the back row of a packed house. This slow, gentle one was for her eyes only. “I told you before that if you ever needed anything, I’d be there—and I meant it. I keep my promises.”

  “Yes you do. Always have.” Evelyn cleared her throat and set the cake down on the kitchen table, taking a moment to colle
ct herself, and a deep breath. When she looked up, her eyes were clear and her smile was bright. “Well, let’s get this party started! I couldn’t ask for better company—oh! Danae, Jack, look who it is!”

  Garrett turned to give the both of them a slight, elegant bow from the waist, which Danae did not return.

  “Hey,” she said very slowly and carefully, while Jack stared up at the newcomer, eyes wide as he took in the circus-style top hat and tails, and the red and gold shimmering sequins that cast hundreds of tiny lights around the room.

  “It’s the guy!” Jack said in a hushed whisper, small hands clutching at the not-quite-finished drawing he’d brought with him, just before he remembered to be gentle with it.

  “That’s right, Sweetie.” Evelyn nodded. “You’ve met Mr. Garrett Cole a couple times. He runs the Emerald Bar where I sing, and sometimes he sings with me—and tonight he brought me a cake! What do we say?”

  “I knew it!” Jack gave a decisive nod, a grin spreading across his face. As he ran over to the sofa and coffee table in the small living area in front of the kitchen to put the finishing touches on his drawing, he yelled an afterthought over his shoulder. “Thank you!”

  Evelyn looked up at Danae, as if repeating the same question she’d asked Jack a moment earlier. Danae stared at the cake with an expression most strangers would have called a poker face. Rose recognized it as a ‘barely controlled glaring daggers’ face, and took a few subtle steps to the side, so she was standing roughly between her and Garrett. “Good cake. Nice present.”

  “Well, thank you very much,” Garrett said in his deep, resonant voice that could move mountains and bring tyrants to their knees when properly applied. “I sincerely hope you all enjoy it. Happy birthday, my darling Strawberry.”

  “Thank you, Garrett.” Evelyn beamed at him. “Now, the first slice is mine, but after that, you’re joining us, right?”

  “Oh, I do apologize, but I can’t stay.” Garret shook his head and took a step toward the door. He gave the room at large a nod, but when he tipped his hat, he kept his eyes on Evelyn. “No rest for those who hunt the wicked. Busy night in the city tonight. But I had to at least drop by and wish you all my many happy returns.”

 

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