Posted: Sat Sep 22, 2007 9:25 pm
Michelle in Yonkers
Flamehair
Evelynn
BelevnDreamsToo
flyawayraven
thetvgeneral
Tessa1982
Vaderian
Thank you all for the feedback, the Happy birthdays way back in June and for just out and out being awesomely patient with me. (except Evee) Thanks a lot. Oh, and I suppose a recap is in order.
The story so far.
The Year is 2210 and the world is a different place. The existence of aliens is public knowledge, and they are greatly feared. Aliens are referred to as Maligns for reasons yet unclear. Due to a great fear of alien life forms there exist a group of people that are dispatched in order to kill Maligns.
Dover Blackwell is a member of this group called MDs or Malign Disposers. While he is dissecting a malign, it hatches to reveal that Maligns are human in form. This information was not previously known by the MDs.
Not having the heart to kill the Malign that resembles a five-year-old boy, Dover takes it home with him. Dover’s little sister Liz, otherwise know as ZeeZee, immediately takes a liking to the little boy and the two become friends. She gives him the name Max.
The next morning ZeeZee awakens to find that her new friend is gone. She finds him outside, but he is trapped in the middle of a thunderstorm. ZeeZee begs her brother to go and rescue Max and he agrees to do so. When Dover reaches him the little boy is struck by lighting and by all accounts appears to be dead. Dover goes to bury Max but the boy wakes up and is now capable of speech, something he was previously unable to do.
Dover takes Max back to his home and he and his wife deicide that they are going to keep him. The next day, Dover’s wife, Lilly, who is a doctor, takes Max with her to give him a check up. That same day, the cave from which Max spawned collapses on itself, trapping a man (Jimmy Valintie) inside.
In an attempt to blow the cave open, the Doughboys unearth an unknown element. They are then sent away from the cave and the MRs (Malign Researchers) take over the aria.
Inside the cave Jimmy experience a strange sensation of euphoria similar to a sense Dover got when he first entered Max’s pod chamber, before he passes out.
Much to the dismay of Jimmy’s uncle and the MD squad leader, Link Patterson, the pod is taken completely out of MD jurisdiction. The MDs are ordered to go on mandatory sabbatical and nothing transpierces for three weeks.
Meanwhile, Dover’s wife Lilly, a doctor, runs tests on Max to determine how different he is from normal human beings. She finds that Max hardly differentiates from humans at all. In those three weeks Max develops to the capacity of a normal five year old and in order to help him blend in he will now begin going to school. However on the day before he is to start attending school Dover gets a message telling him to report to MD headquarters as soon as possible. He leaves a sleeping Max and reports to HQ.
Dover learns that the element that was previously blocking the cave entrance has melted and he and his team as well as a group of MRs are to be sent in to retrieve Jimmy’s body. This worries Dover.
Back at the Blackwell domicile, Max awakens to find himself alone. He then goes in search of Dover. After hearing a strange noise from outside the domicile, Max figures out how to leave and runs into Joy Pallor-Smith, the Blackwell’s down the road neighbor. Joy, thinking Max is a lost child, takes him home with her.
What will happen to Max now that he is in the home of the Pallor-Smiths? How will Dover cope with the discoveries that may be made in Max’s cave? And what will Lilly and ZeeZee do when they realize Max is missing?
Find out on our next episode of The Amazing Spiderma-…um I mean the next chapter of Malign.
~Chad~
Part 1:
Chapter Eleven
Sealant New Mexico: Pallor-Smith Domicile
Max was hungry.
He looked down at his stomach and it made a funny gurgling sound. His stomach was hungry too. And he was sure that his feet, which dangled from the chair that Miss-es Pal had sat him on and told him not to move from, were pretty hungry too.
Problem was, he didn’t know what to do about this hunger.
Whenever he was with Lilly and got hungry, she would give him tasty food to eat. Well…most of the time. Sometimes the food would not be so tasty, but she would always make him eat it anyway. Regardless if the food was tasty, like sweet cookie bread, or not tasty, like green leafy stuff, Max was never hungry when he was with Lilly.
Max looked to the large jar that sat on the nearby countertop. It reminded him of another jar. Lilly had a pretty circle jar that she always kept cookie bread inside. Maybe Miss-es Pal kept cookie bread inside her jar too.
He looked down at his feet. Miss-es Pal had said not to move from this spot. Did that mean that something horrible would happen to him if he moved?
His stomach gurgled again. He was so hungry. He had not eaten anything all day. Surly, whatever happened to him if he moved from his spot wouldn’t be as bad as being hungry. Besides, if he moved from his spot, got the cookie bread, then moved back to his spot before Miss-es Pal got back, then maybe he could trick the horrible thing from ever knowing that he’d moved to begin with.
Max took a second to check his logic. It made sense to him.He stood up from his chair, then waited to see what would happen. Thankfully, nothing did, and as he suspected, the horrible thing did not have time to realize he had moved from his spot. But there was no telling how long it would take for the horrible thing to figure it out, so Max decided that he had better move quickly.
As fast as his feet would allow, Max ran over to the countertop and climbed up on one of the really tall chairs that was sitting beside it. No small feat, since the chair was much bigger than he was. But Max’s appetite was even bigger, and the idea of tasting some sweet cookie bread far outweighed any fear he would have had of a large chair.
Once Max was situated in the chair, he turned to the door that Miss-es Pal and the man she had called her hus-band had disappeared behind. He waited for a moment to see if he could hear any signs of them returning, and though he was able to hear the sounds of their voices, Hus-band’s voice more clearly than Miss-es Pal’s, it didn’t sound as if they would be returning anytime soon. That gave Max more than enough time to get his sweet bread and get back to his seat before either the two of them, or the horrible thing, figured out that he had ever moved.
One door away, Donald Pallor-Smith was furious. Not just furious, but enraged, livid, and just plain out mad. Although, if one were to ask him, he may have just described his feeling as being moderately irritated. After all, a gentleman did not feel such extreme amounts of a negative emotion. However, to look at his round face, which had nearly doubled in size with huffiness, or to take in the peculiar angular slant of his normally extensive eyes, a person might have almost believed that Mr. Pallor-Smith was truly upset.
Joy Pallor-Smith believed it.
“Now Donald darling, I know this is a bit unexpected, but I couldn’t very well leave the child out in the wild cold streets like that. Imagine what sort of havoc he could have wrecked on the world.”
“Yes, now all I have to worry about is the sort of havoc he’ll wreck upon us. Goodness Joy, what on earth were you thinking?”
Joy made a face at her husband. It was the face she used whenever he was being unreasonable and she wanted him to see reason. “I was thinking that it is what a good and hospitable citizen would do when faced in the situation. Regardless of how uncouth this child may be.”
Donald truly hated when Joy made that face. “I understand that darling, but we don’t know the first thing about this child. For all we know he could be disease filled.” Donald looked around the room as if someone other than the two of them could have been listening to their conversation. “He could have toxic exposure,” he said, whispering in a low tone.
Joy rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, Donald dear, don’t be ridiculous. He’s from the family down the road. They may be a little strange, but they’re hardly candidates for quarantine.”
Donald looked unconvinced. “I don’t know. You know that Blackwell’s an MD. Works around that stuff all the time. We don’t know what he’s got going on in that domicile of his. That wife of his is no contender for normalcy either. As far as I knew, they only had one kid, that nosey little girl that’s always running around here.”
Joy sighed. “Oh Donald, would you quit being so paranoid. Maybe he’s a relative. Anyway, he was looking for Mr. Blackwell when I found him, like he was a lost toy or something. He’s very strange, I’ll give you that, but no more so than any of those other Blackwells. But if it makes you feel any better, I left a message for them to come and pick him up as soon as possible, so he won’t be our problem for very long.”
“Well, he had better not be. Come on, I don’t want to leave him alone for too long. God forbid he starts touching things.”
“Donald, I will keep him out of your hair. After all, he is just a little boy. How much trouble could he possibly be?”
Donald didn’t want to think about the answer to that question as he followed his wife back to the main room where they had left their visitor.
If Joy was not fond of children, Donald detested them. It wasn’t that he had anything against them exactly, he just had no need for them in his life. Donald Pallor-Smith was a very organized man. He lived a very structured life, and he liked for the things in his life to have structure to them as well. Children just did not figure into that equation.
Oh, they could be appealing sometimes, much in the way a circus animal was appealing. But after a short time around them, they were nothing but noise and headaches. Neither of which Donald found to be structural or functional. As far as he knew, Joy had always felt the same way about children. It was a bit disconcerting to see her taking such an unaccustomed interest in this small boy she’d brought home with her.
Donald stopped walking suddenly when Joy stopped in front of him.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she answered quickly as she turned to face him. “Actually, Donald, it’s been a bit of a long day. Why don’t you go and take a nap while I start dinner? You must be exhausted what with having to come and pick me up. And I don’t want to put any more stress on you today.” She smiled sweetly as she began steering him back towards the bedroom.
Donald placed his hand over his mouth to stifle an unexpected yawn. He was a bit exhausted. And a nap did sound like a good idea. With any luck, by the time he woke, the Blackwells would have come to get their errant missing child, and he could just put the whole ordeal behind him.
“Alright, I think I will. Wake me when dinner’s ready, would you please darling?”
“Of course.” Joy nodded her head.
“And make sure that boy does not disturb me,” he added.
“Oh, you will not even know he’s here,” Joy insisted. She let out a relieved sigh as she watched her husband retreat to their bedroom. Now that he was out of the way for a while, she could deal with her new little problem.
When Joy returned to the main room, it wasn’t to see that Max was sitting in the chair she left him in, patiently awaiting her return. Instead, the sight before her was of the little boy sitting on top of her counter with his hand, no, most of his arm, stuck inside of her flower jar.
Max looked up at her sheepishly.
“Max,” Joy said calmly as she walked over to the table. “What exactly is it you think you are doing, besides contaminating my flower?”
Max looked down at his arm, which for some reason had decided that it did not want to come out of the jar. He knew he was in trouble since he was no longer in the spot that he was supposed to be in, but maybe he wasn’t in that much trouble.
“Cookie bread?” he said as if that would be enough reason for him to have his arm stuck inside of a flower jar.
Joy frowned. Cookie bread? She didn’t keep cookie bread in the house. The stuff was dreadfully unhealthy, and Donald had an aversion to sweets. She looked over to Max. She understood now. He must have thought she kept cookie bread inside of the jar and being the little ragamuffin he was, he went searching for some.
Joy shook her head distastefully. “Well now, that serves you right. It’s rude to go sticking your hands in places they don’t belong.”
Max looked away sheepishly.
“And I suppose you’re good and stuck, aren’t you.?”
Max nodded his head.
“And are you clutching my flower, little Max?” she asked.
Again, Max nodded.
“Well perhaps if you let go, you will be able to get your hand out of the jar,” she suggested.
Max blinked. He hadn’t thought of that. He unclamped his hand from around the stuff that was definitely not cookie bread, and pulled his hand from the jar easily. But he frowned when he saw that his hand, and most of his arm, was covered in a white powered substance. Max tilted his head to the side as he examined his arm.
“What’s this?” he looked at Joy and waited for her to answer.
“That is four pounds of Tree-wheat flower that you have now ruined.” Joy picked up the lid to the jar and sat it back on top, then she placed the jar high on a shelf out of Max’s reach. She gasped when she turned back to face Max.
Max’s hand was stuck in his mouth.
“Oh my…Now don’t do that,” she said and snatched his hand away from his mouth.
Max grimaced. “Treat flower taste bad.”
“It’s not ‘treat flower’. It’s Tree-wheat flower, and it’s not for you to eat. Not like that anyway,” she explained.
“I’m hungry,” Max said, as he began rubbing the flower off of his hand, and onto his shirt.
“Oh my, no!” Joy stopped him. “Now you’ll make yourself all dirty.” She grabbed a towel, took Max’s hand, and wiped the flower off. “My, are you a handful,” she said more to herself than to him, as she rubbed.
Max sat still wile Miss-es Pal rubbed his arm, but he was still hungry. “I’m hungry,” he said again.
“Well, you are just going to have to wait. Look at you. You’re an absolute mess.”
Max’s stomach hurt. “But I’m hungry.” His eyes tickled with tears and he used his other hand to wipe them.
Joy noticed the sudden appearance of wetness in the little boy’s eyes. “Oh no. Don’t you dare start crying. Mr. Pallor-Smith is trying to take a nap, and I don’t need you making any noise that would disturb him.”
Miss-es Pal sounded angry and Max didn’t want to upset her, but he was still hungry. “I’m hungry!”
Joy tried not to let her annoyance show on her face. She supposed she would have to feed him, or else he would never cease making so much noise. That wouldn’t do. She turned around and looked at the stove and an idea came to her. “Fine Max. I’m going to make you something very special.”
Max wiped his eyes again and smiled at Miss-es Pal excitedly, and wondered what she was going to make him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sealant New Mexico: Blackwell Domicile
Max was with the Pallor-Smiths!
Lilly and ZeeZee came home from work and school as they were accustomed, expecting to find Max and Dover up to some form of rare male shenanigans. However, that wasn’t to be the case. Instead of finding the two at home and up to no good, they’d found the domicile to be surprisingly empty.
No big deal, was Lilly’s initial thought. Perhaps Dover had taken Max out with him. As Max developed more, and as his connection to Dover had obviously increased, Dover had become accustomed to taking Max along with him on short errands from time to time. As a matter of fact, sometimes Max would demand to tag along. The two were so virtually inseparable. But Lilly then found the note left by Dover informing her that he had to go in to HQ and that Max should have been sleeping when they returned.
But Max hadn’t been anywhere to be found. He wasn’t asleep on the couch, as Dover’s message had indicated. He wasn’t in his bedroom. He wasn’t in ZeeZee’s bedroom. Lilly had no way of finding him, nor had she any clue if Max even knew what it was to be lost. And what was worse, if there could be a worse, upon discovering Max’s sudden absence, ZeeZee had become highly upset, and wouldn’t stop crying.
“ZeeZee,” Lilly spoke softly as she took hold of the little girl and tried to soothe her. “Please, stop crying honey. We’re going to find him.”
Liz let out a huge hiccupping sob as she wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. “But why did Max leave? Does he not like being with us anymore?” What she really wanted to ask was did Max not like being with her anymore? Had she made him mad? Did he not want to be her friend?
“Oh no, ZeeZee, no. Of course Max likes living with us.” At least, Lilly thought he did. He seemed quite content to be with their little family over the last past weeks.
Liz looked as if she doubted Lilly’s words. “Then why did he run away?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m sure he didn’t run away. He’s just…” Lilly didn’t know what to say. “He’s just lost,” she opted as an answer. “And it’s up to you and me to find him.”
“Lost?” Liz thought. That didn’t seem so bad. It was just like when Max had gotten lost in the rainstorm when they had first met. Max was always getting lost. She would have to teach him not to do that so often anymore. She didn’t like it when he was lost.
Lilly nodded her head. “So will you come with me to help me find him?” she asked.
Liz nodded her head as well. “Yep, I’ll help. But I think when we find him we need to teach Max how to not get lost anymore.”
Lilly smiled as she took ZeeZee’s hand and led her towards the front door. “You know ZeeZee, I think that that’s a good idea.”
And so, Liz and Lilly set out to look for Max. Max was a bit of a wanderer, even though they made sure he didn’t wander off by himself. Lilly feared that Max had somehow managed to get out of the house. It was dangerous for any child to be out in the world by himself, even more so for Max, being what he was.
Lilly and Liz had called out to Max, but they had not received any answer. Just when Liz was starting to believe that he was truly gone, never to return, Lilly found the message from Mrs. Pallor-Smith, explaining how she had taken Max home with her. In some ways this was even worse than Max being alone in the world. The Pallor-Smiths were not exactly the most friendly next-door neighbors. In fact, in the letter she left, Joy Pallor-Smith had made sure to point out how irresponsible it was of Lilly and Dover to leave Max alone.
“Oh no, Max is trapped with that wicked old lady,” Liz said after Lilly told her where they could find Max.
“ZeeZee, don’t say that. Mrs. Pallor-Smith is not wicked. She and Mr. Pallor-Smith are just not used to being around children.”
“She’s wicked!” Liz exclaimed. “I bet she’ll try to cast a spell on Max to turn him into a toad. Just like the wicked old lady in the story you told us.”
Lilly tried to hide her smile. She would have to be careful of what stories she told Max and ZeeZee as bedtime stories in the future. Especially if Liz was going to apply the stories to real life. “Mrs. Pallor-Smith is not wicked, ZeeZee. And I don’t want you saying that to her. Do you understand?”
Liz nodded her head, albeit reluctantly.
“Good.” Lilly reached down and took Liz’s hand in hers. “Now, come on. Let’s go save Max from that wicked old lady,” she said, giving Liz a playful wink.
Liz smiled back and followed Lilly to the litter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sealant New Mexico: (back at the Pallor-Smith Domicil)
“And then you have a perfectly delicious and delectable, not to mention healthy, meal.”
Max looked at the bowl of…well, he didn’t know what it was, sitting on the table in front of him. Miss-es Pal seemed to think it was some sort of food, but Max had his suspicions. “What is it?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and poking the funny thing with the spoon she had given him to eat it with.
Joy gasped in offense. “What is it? Well, how ungrateful. I’ll have you know, Max, this is my world famous original recipe of Apple-boil.” There was no masking the pride in her tone over her splendid preparation.
“Apple…boy-old?” Max’s head remained tilted over the bowl. He looked up at Miss-es Pal, now even more confused. “What’s boy-old?” Was there a boy in his food?
Joy sighed in exhaustion. The little thing just asked so many questions. “Not boy-old,” she stressed, “boil. It is the heating up of liquid, producing bubbles of gas that rise to the surface.”
Max’s beamed a smile. “Bubbles? Like bath bubbles?” He liked bath bubbles. They were splashy and fun to blow. Maybe he was supposed to blow the Apple-boy-old like he blew his bath bubbles. Max looked down at the bowl, drew in a deep breath, and blew as hard as he could on it.
The Apple-boil, which was quite literally a bowl of sliced apples that had been boiled in hot water and placed in a plane broth, splashed out of its bowl and onto Mrs. Pallor-Smith’s decorative, not to mention pricey, table placemats.
Joy gasped as she watched the mess spill all over the table. “Oh no, now look what you did!” she shirked. She quickly lifted the bowl, so as to prevent anymore of its broth from spilling out. “My Moo-Moo-shaftly-stitched-hand-woven-added-beaded-pixle-decorated-commemorative placemats!”
Max smiled. “Moo-Moo,” he repeated, and laughed again at the funny sounding word.
“Ugh!” Joy groaned. She didn’t usually make such appalling noises, but she couldn’t help but make the aggravated sound. Max was a little pintsized nightmare that had been deviously wrapped in adorable, and stuffed with giggles.
“Oh, you stop laughing right this instant!” she commanded.
Max could tell from the sound of Miss-es Pal’s voice that she was not happy with him. He looked down at the mess he had made when he blew on the boy-old, and knew that it was the reason for her being upset. “I’m sorry,” he said, and then looked at Miss-es Pal’s Moo-Moo-shaftly-stitched-hand-woven-added-beaded-pixle-decorated-commemorative placemats. “I know! I’ll fix it.” He placed his hand on the wet spot over the mat.
Joy snatched the mat away from him. “Don’t you dare touch it,” she said, and brought the mat up to her chest before she could remember the wet spot. She then quickly brought it away from herself and looked down at the front of her shirt, expecting to see the sight of apple broth smeared all over her clean shirt.
However, when she did look at her shirt, it was to see that oddly enough, it was clear of any of the food residue. “That’s odd.” She held the placemat up and looked at it. Perhaps even stranger, there was not a smear of apple-boil left on the thing. Joy lifted her brow in confusion and looked back down at the table that was still wet with the spilled food and the slices of apple.
“Oh,” she said, still a bit confused by the situation. “I suppose my placemat avoided the spill.” Somehow…? “But that was still very reckless of you, young man. Do you realize what you could have done?”
Max didn’t, but he just nodded his head. “Sorry,” he said again, then smiled, as if he knew it would help her not to be so mad at him.
Joy sighed again. He was a wily little thing, trying to charm her with that smile, and those bright eyes, and that apologetic glance. Who did he think he was? She cleared her throat. But when she spoke, there was less anger in her tone than before. “Well then, come on and help me clean it up.” She placed her hands on the back of his chair and moved it from the front of the table.
“Okay!” Max hopped down off the chair and looked up at Miss-es Pal expectantly. She walked over to the kitchen counter to grab a towel, then came back to Max. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “We are going to wipe the table off without getting a drop of it on my placemats,” she warned. “Aren’t we, Max?”
Max nodded. “Not a drop on Moo-Moo,” he said with a small giggle.
Joy couldn’t help but giggle herself…just a little. “Alright.” She handed him the towel and began removing the rest of the placemats from around the table.
Max lifted the towel and began wiping the table, which he was only just a head taller than, as much as he could with this disadvantage. He jumped and stretched and made a big show of attempting to wipe up the piece of apple that sat too far in the center of the table for his little arms to reach, but just couldn’t reach it. Max looked at Miss-es Pal, who seemed oblivious to his plight as she fussed over her Moo-Moo plate things.
What was he going to do? Miss-es Pal would be mad if he did not clean up the mess he made, like he said he would. But how could he clean the mess if he couldn’t reach it? Max sat the towel on the table. This situation called for Dover’s thinking pose. Assuming the position, Max began to think.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long for an idea to come to him. Max looked at the legs of the chair he had been sitting in before, then looked at his own legs. They were much longer than his own legs. In fact, when he had been sitting ion it, he could reach the table just fine.
His light bulb now screwed on, Max climbed back into the tall chair. However, apparently not screwed tight enough because when sitting in the chair, Max could reach the table just fine, but he still couldn’t reach the center. Max sighed. It was time for more thinking. He folded his arms, just like Dover, then touched his chin.
”Think, think!” he told himself. And then, another idea came to him. He bet it would be way easier to reach the center of the table if he stood up in the chair. Then he would have to height of the chair legs plus the height of his own legs. That would more than equal the space from the edge of the table to the center, and if he more than equaled the space from the edge of the table to the center, he would more than equal the center. And if he more than equaled the center, he could reach past the center, and if he could reach past the center, then he could reach the center!
Max smiled. He liked Dover’s thinking pose. It always helped him come up with the best ideas. He scrambled to his feet in the chair, making sure that his feet were firmly planted on the seat. But after he was sure and stable, Max discovered another problem. He might have more than equaled the space from the ledge of the table to the center standing up, but while standing up in the chair, he was even farther away from the center of the table. And too high up, he was definitely too high up as well.
Max frowned and looked at the piece of apple. Tricky apple. He wouldn’t let it get the best of him. One way or another, he was going to clean it up. And then, without even getting into Dover’s thinking position, another idea struck him. What if, like the apple, he was on the table? If he was on the table he could definitely reach the center. He smiled to himself. That was it!
Being careful not to fall, Max stepped over the tiny space from the chair to the table. Now the apple was well within his reaching distance. He walked to the center and got to his knees, then finally, triumphantly, victoriously, wiped the piece of apple off of the table.
“Look Miss-es Pal,” he said, holding it up in the towel. “I cleaned the table.”
Joy was in the midst of thoroughly examining her precious placemats when she heard Max call out to her. She turned around to see what he was doing and gasped in horror. The little boy had climbed up on her Old Mahogany (a wood she had spent a very long time trying to find)-Classic wooden table, and was sitting right in the middle of it, as if it were some sort of out of date barcalounger.
Dropping her placemats on the counter, she hurried over to him. “What on earth are you doing?” she demanded, reaching to lift him off the table.
Max’s smile died at the sound of Miss-es Pal’s voice. She was angry. He could tell. But why was she angry? He had cleaned the apple off the table. That was what she wanted him to do. That was what he was supposed to do, right?
“Why is Miss-es Pal mad?” he asked.
Without answering, Joy reached for Max, and lifted him off of the table. Then she surveyed the damage. Just as she had feared, there were little shoe scratch marks all over her table.
She looked at Max. He looked at her. She said nothing. He said nothing.
Max was worried now. Miss-es Pal seemed really, really angry now, and he didn’t know why. “Um…” he held up the towel. “I cleaned the table,” he said, hoping that would make her happy.
One two three four…Joy counted silently in her head. Five six seven eight…He was just a little boy after all. Nine ten eleven twelve…it was safe to assume that he didn’t know any better. Thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen. After all, he did live with those Blackwells, and they were not exactly perfect illustrations of good breeding. Seventeen eighteen nineteen…Still…
Joy looked down at her table. Shoe scratch marks!
She wasn’t going to explode. Not openly anyway. That would make her no more than a Neanderthal. She was, however, going to politely explain to Max why standing on her Old Mahogany Classic wooden table had not been a good idea.
“Max,” she started softly.
“Miss-es Pal?” he responded wearily.
“It is not polite, while in the domicile of other people, to stand upon their table. Even if it is in order to cleans it of a mess, so clumsily made,” she explained. Her voice was tranquil and serene, a complete contrast to what was going on in her head.
Max made a small ‘O’ with his mouth as understanding reached him. So he was not supposed to stand on the table. “Okay,” he said, then smiled at her to let her know that he understood.
Joy took another deep breath and then reminded herself for a third, fourth, and then fifth time that he was just an innocent child that didn’t know any better. She then watched as Max lifted the same towel he had used to wipe the apple pieces to wipe his hands, smearing apple all over them. Then he placed said dirty hand on the front of his shirt and looked up at her and said:
“I’m hungry.”
TBC
Flamehair
Evelynn
BelevnDreamsToo
flyawayraven
thetvgeneral
Tessa1982
Vaderian
Thank you all for the feedback, the Happy birthdays way back in June and for just out and out being awesomely patient with me. (except Evee) Thanks a lot. Oh, and I suppose a recap is in order.
The story so far.
The Year is 2210 and the world is a different place. The existence of aliens is public knowledge, and they are greatly feared. Aliens are referred to as Maligns for reasons yet unclear. Due to a great fear of alien life forms there exist a group of people that are dispatched in order to kill Maligns.
Dover Blackwell is a member of this group called MDs or Malign Disposers. While he is dissecting a malign, it hatches to reveal that Maligns are human in form. This information was not previously known by the MDs.
Not having the heart to kill the Malign that resembles a five-year-old boy, Dover takes it home with him. Dover’s little sister Liz, otherwise know as ZeeZee, immediately takes a liking to the little boy and the two become friends. She gives him the name Max.
The next morning ZeeZee awakens to find that her new friend is gone. She finds him outside, but he is trapped in the middle of a thunderstorm. ZeeZee begs her brother to go and rescue Max and he agrees to do so. When Dover reaches him the little boy is struck by lighting and by all accounts appears to be dead. Dover goes to bury Max but the boy wakes up and is now capable of speech, something he was previously unable to do.
Dover takes Max back to his home and he and his wife deicide that they are going to keep him. The next day, Dover’s wife, Lilly, who is a doctor, takes Max with her to give him a check up. That same day, the cave from which Max spawned collapses on itself, trapping a man (Jimmy Valintie) inside.
In an attempt to blow the cave open, the Doughboys unearth an unknown element. They are then sent away from the cave and the MRs (Malign Researchers) take over the aria.
Inside the cave Jimmy experience a strange sensation of euphoria similar to a sense Dover got when he first entered Max’s pod chamber, before he passes out.
Much to the dismay of Jimmy’s uncle and the MD squad leader, Link Patterson, the pod is taken completely out of MD jurisdiction. The MDs are ordered to go on mandatory sabbatical and nothing transpierces for three weeks.
Meanwhile, Dover’s wife Lilly, a doctor, runs tests on Max to determine how different he is from normal human beings. She finds that Max hardly differentiates from humans at all. In those three weeks Max develops to the capacity of a normal five year old and in order to help him blend in he will now begin going to school. However on the day before he is to start attending school Dover gets a message telling him to report to MD headquarters as soon as possible. He leaves a sleeping Max and reports to HQ.
Dover learns that the element that was previously blocking the cave entrance has melted and he and his team as well as a group of MRs are to be sent in to retrieve Jimmy’s body. This worries Dover.
Back at the Blackwell domicile, Max awakens to find himself alone. He then goes in search of Dover. After hearing a strange noise from outside the domicile, Max figures out how to leave and runs into Joy Pallor-Smith, the Blackwell’s down the road neighbor. Joy, thinking Max is a lost child, takes him home with her.
What will happen to Max now that he is in the home of the Pallor-Smiths? How will Dover cope with the discoveries that may be made in Max’s cave? And what will Lilly and ZeeZee do when they realize Max is missing?
Find out on our next episode of The Amazing Spiderma-…um I mean the next chapter of Malign.
~Chad~
Part 1:
Chapter Eleven
Sealant New Mexico: Pallor-Smith Domicile
Max was hungry.
He looked down at his stomach and it made a funny gurgling sound. His stomach was hungry too. And he was sure that his feet, which dangled from the chair that Miss-es Pal had sat him on and told him not to move from, were pretty hungry too.
Problem was, he didn’t know what to do about this hunger.
Whenever he was with Lilly and got hungry, she would give him tasty food to eat. Well…most of the time. Sometimes the food would not be so tasty, but she would always make him eat it anyway. Regardless if the food was tasty, like sweet cookie bread, or not tasty, like green leafy stuff, Max was never hungry when he was with Lilly.
Max looked to the large jar that sat on the nearby countertop. It reminded him of another jar. Lilly had a pretty circle jar that she always kept cookie bread inside. Maybe Miss-es Pal kept cookie bread inside her jar too.
He looked down at his feet. Miss-es Pal had said not to move from this spot. Did that mean that something horrible would happen to him if he moved?
His stomach gurgled again. He was so hungry. He had not eaten anything all day. Surly, whatever happened to him if he moved from his spot wouldn’t be as bad as being hungry. Besides, if he moved from his spot, got the cookie bread, then moved back to his spot before Miss-es Pal got back, then maybe he could trick the horrible thing from ever knowing that he’d moved to begin with.
Max took a second to check his logic. It made sense to him.He stood up from his chair, then waited to see what would happen. Thankfully, nothing did, and as he suspected, the horrible thing did not have time to realize he had moved from his spot. But there was no telling how long it would take for the horrible thing to figure it out, so Max decided that he had better move quickly.
As fast as his feet would allow, Max ran over to the countertop and climbed up on one of the really tall chairs that was sitting beside it. No small feat, since the chair was much bigger than he was. But Max’s appetite was even bigger, and the idea of tasting some sweet cookie bread far outweighed any fear he would have had of a large chair.
Once Max was situated in the chair, he turned to the door that Miss-es Pal and the man she had called her hus-band had disappeared behind. He waited for a moment to see if he could hear any signs of them returning, and though he was able to hear the sounds of their voices, Hus-band’s voice more clearly than Miss-es Pal’s, it didn’t sound as if they would be returning anytime soon. That gave Max more than enough time to get his sweet bread and get back to his seat before either the two of them, or the horrible thing, figured out that he had ever moved.
One door away, Donald Pallor-Smith was furious. Not just furious, but enraged, livid, and just plain out mad. Although, if one were to ask him, he may have just described his feeling as being moderately irritated. After all, a gentleman did not feel such extreme amounts of a negative emotion. However, to look at his round face, which had nearly doubled in size with huffiness, or to take in the peculiar angular slant of his normally extensive eyes, a person might have almost believed that Mr. Pallor-Smith was truly upset.
Joy Pallor-Smith believed it.
“Now Donald darling, I know this is a bit unexpected, but I couldn’t very well leave the child out in the wild cold streets like that. Imagine what sort of havoc he could have wrecked on the world.”
“Yes, now all I have to worry about is the sort of havoc he’ll wreck upon us. Goodness Joy, what on earth were you thinking?”
Joy made a face at her husband. It was the face she used whenever he was being unreasonable and she wanted him to see reason. “I was thinking that it is what a good and hospitable citizen would do when faced in the situation. Regardless of how uncouth this child may be.”
Donald truly hated when Joy made that face. “I understand that darling, but we don’t know the first thing about this child. For all we know he could be disease filled.” Donald looked around the room as if someone other than the two of them could have been listening to their conversation. “He could have toxic exposure,” he said, whispering in a low tone.
Joy rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, Donald dear, don’t be ridiculous. He’s from the family down the road. They may be a little strange, but they’re hardly candidates for quarantine.”
Donald looked unconvinced. “I don’t know. You know that Blackwell’s an MD. Works around that stuff all the time. We don’t know what he’s got going on in that domicile of his. That wife of his is no contender for normalcy either. As far as I knew, they only had one kid, that nosey little girl that’s always running around here.”
Joy sighed. “Oh Donald, would you quit being so paranoid. Maybe he’s a relative. Anyway, he was looking for Mr. Blackwell when I found him, like he was a lost toy or something. He’s very strange, I’ll give you that, but no more so than any of those other Blackwells. But if it makes you feel any better, I left a message for them to come and pick him up as soon as possible, so he won’t be our problem for very long.”
“Well, he had better not be. Come on, I don’t want to leave him alone for too long. God forbid he starts touching things.”
“Donald, I will keep him out of your hair. After all, he is just a little boy. How much trouble could he possibly be?”
Donald didn’t want to think about the answer to that question as he followed his wife back to the main room where they had left their visitor.
If Joy was not fond of children, Donald detested them. It wasn’t that he had anything against them exactly, he just had no need for them in his life. Donald Pallor-Smith was a very organized man. He lived a very structured life, and he liked for the things in his life to have structure to them as well. Children just did not figure into that equation.
Oh, they could be appealing sometimes, much in the way a circus animal was appealing. But after a short time around them, they were nothing but noise and headaches. Neither of which Donald found to be structural or functional. As far as he knew, Joy had always felt the same way about children. It was a bit disconcerting to see her taking such an unaccustomed interest in this small boy she’d brought home with her.
Donald stopped walking suddenly when Joy stopped in front of him.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she answered quickly as she turned to face him. “Actually, Donald, it’s been a bit of a long day. Why don’t you go and take a nap while I start dinner? You must be exhausted what with having to come and pick me up. And I don’t want to put any more stress on you today.” She smiled sweetly as she began steering him back towards the bedroom.
Donald placed his hand over his mouth to stifle an unexpected yawn. He was a bit exhausted. And a nap did sound like a good idea. With any luck, by the time he woke, the Blackwells would have come to get their errant missing child, and he could just put the whole ordeal behind him.
“Alright, I think I will. Wake me when dinner’s ready, would you please darling?”
“Of course.” Joy nodded her head.
“And make sure that boy does not disturb me,” he added.
“Oh, you will not even know he’s here,” Joy insisted. She let out a relieved sigh as she watched her husband retreat to their bedroom. Now that he was out of the way for a while, she could deal with her new little problem.
When Joy returned to the main room, it wasn’t to see that Max was sitting in the chair she left him in, patiently awaiting her return. Instead, the sight before her was of the little boy sitting on top of her counter with his hand, no, most of his arm, stuck inside of her flower jar.
Max looked up at her sheepishly.
“Max,” Joy said calmly as she walked over to the table. “What exactly is it you think you are doing, besides contaminating my flower?”
Max looked down at his arm, which for some reason had decided that it did not want to come out of the jar. He knew he was in trouble since he was no longer in the spot that he was supposed to be in, but maybe he wasn’t in that much trouble.
“Cookie bread?” he said as if that would be enough reason for him to have his arm stuck inside of a flower jar.
Joy frowned. Cookie bread? She didn’t keep cookie bread in the house. The stuff was dreadfully unhealthy, and Donald had an aversion to sweets. She looked over to Max. She understood now. He must have thought she kept cookie bread inside of the jar and being the little ragamuffin he was, he went searching for some.
Joy shook her head distastefully. “Well now, that serves you right. It’s rude to go sticking your hands in places they don’t belong.”
Max looked away sheepishly.
“And I suppose you’re good and stuck, aren’t you.?”
Max nodded his head.
“And are you clutching my flower, little Max?” she asked.
Again, Max nodded.
“Well perhaps if you let go, you will be able to get your hand out of the jar,” she suggested.
Max blinked. He hadn’t thought of that. He unclamped his hand from around the stuff that was definitely not cookie bread, and pulled his hand from the jar easily. But he frowned when he saw that his hand, and most of his arm, was covered in a white powered substance. Max tilted his head to the side as he examined his arm.
“What’s this?” he looked at Joy and waited for her to answer.
“That is four pounds of Tree-wheat flower that you have now ruined.” Joy picked up the lid to the jar and sat it back on top, then she placed the jar high on a shelf out of Max’s reach. She gasped when she turned back to face Max.
Max’s hand was stuck in his mouth.
“Oh my…Now don’t do that,” she said and snatched his hand away from his mouth.
Max grimaced. “Treat flower taste bad.”
“It’s not ‘treat flower’. It’s Tree-wheat flower, and it’s not for you to eat. Not like that anyway,” she explained.
“I’m hungry,” Max said, as he began rubbing the flower off of his hand, and onto his shirt.
“Oh my, no!” Joy stopped him. “Now you’ll make yourself all dirty.” She grabbed a towel, took Max’s hand, and wiped the flower off. “My, are you a handful,” she said more to herself than to him, as she rubbed.
Max sat still wile Miss-es Pal rubbed his arm, but he was still hungry. “I’m hungry,” he said again.
“Well, you are just going to have to wait. Look at you. You’re an absolute mess.”
Max’s stomach hurt. “But I’m hungry.” His eyes tickled with tears and he used his other hand to wipe them.
Joy noticed the sudden appearance of wetness in the little boy’s eyes. “Oh no. Don’t you dare start crying. Mr. Pallor-Smith is trying to take a nap, and I don’t need you making any noise that would disturb him.”
Miss-es Pal sounded angry and Max didn’t want to upset her, but he was still hungry. “I’m hungry!”
Joy tried not to let her annoyance show on her face. She supposed she would have to feed him, or else he would never cease making so much noise. That wouldn’t do. She turned around and looked at the stove and an idea came to her. “Fine Max. I’m going to make you something very special.”
Max wiped his eyes again and smiled at Miss-es Pal excitedly, and wondered what she was going to make him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sealant New Mexico: Blackwell Domicile
Max was with the Pallor-Smiths!
Lilly and ZeeZee came home from work and school as they were accustomed, expecting to find Max and Dover up to some form of rare male shenanigans. However, that wasn’t to be the case. Instead of finding the two at home and up to no good, they’d found the domicile to be surprisingly empty.
No big deal, was Lilly’s initial thought. Perhaps Dover had taken Max out with him. As Max developed more, and as his connection to Dover had obviously increased, Dover had become accustomed to taking Max along with him on short errands from time to time. As a matter of fact, sometimes Max would demand to tag along. The two were so virtually inseparable. But Lilly then found the note left by Dover informing her that he had to go in to HQ and that Max should have been sleeping when they returned.
But Max hadn’t been anywhere to be found. He wasn’t asleep on the couch, as Dover’s message had indicated. He wasn’t in his bedroom. He wasn’t in ZeeZee’s bedroom. Lilly had no way of finding him, nor had she any clue if Max even knew what it was to be lost. And what was worse, if there could be a worse, upon discovering Max’s sudden absence, ZeeZee had become highly upset, and wouldn’t stop crying.
“ZeeZee,” Lilly spoke softly as she took hold of the little girl and tried to soothe her. “Please, stop crying honey. We’re going to find him.”
Liz let out a huge hiccupping sob as she wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. “But why did Max leave? Does he not like being with us anymore?” What she really wanted to ask was did Max not like being with her anymore? Had she made him mad? Did he not want to be her friend?
“Oh no, ZeeZee, no. Of course Max likes living with us.” At least, Lilly thought he did. He seemed quite content to be with their little family over the last past weeks.
Liz looked as if she doubted Lilly’s words. “Then why did he run away?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m sure he didn’t run away. He’s just…” Lilly didn’t know what to say. “He’s just lost,” she opted as an answer. “And it’s up to you and me to find him.”
“Lost?” Liz thought. That didn’t seem so bad. It was just like when Max had gotten lost in the rainstorm when they had first met. Max was always getting lost. She would have to teach him not to do that so often anymore. She didn’t like it when he was lost.
Lilly nodded her head. “So will you come with me to help me find him?” she asked.
Liz nodded her head as well. “Yep, I’ll help. But I think when we find him we need to teach Max how to not get lost anymore.”
Lilly smiled as she took ZeeZee’s hand and led her towards the front door. “You know ZeeZee, I think that that’s a good idea.”
And so, Liz and Lilly set out to look for Max. Max was a bit of a wanderer, even though they made sure he didn’t wander off by himself. Lilly feared that Max had somehow managed to get out of the house. It was dangerous for any child to be out in the world by himself, even more so for Max, being what he was.
Lilly and Liz had called out to Max, but they had not received any answer. Just when Liz was starting to believe that he was truly gone, never to return, Lilly found the message from Mrs. Pallor-Smith, explaining how she had taken Max home with her. In some ways this was even worse than Max being alone in the world. The Pallor-Smiths were not exactly the most friendly next-door neighbors. In fact, in the letter she left, Joy Pallor-Smith had made sure to point out how irresponsible it was of Lilly and Dover to leave Max alone.
“Oh no, Max is trapped with that wicked old lady,” Liz said after Lilly told her where they could find Max.
“ZeeZee, don’t say that. Mrs. Pallor-Smith is not wicked. She and Mr. Pallor-Smith are just not used to being around children.”
“She’s wicked!” Liz exclaimed. “I bet she’ll try to cast a spell on Max to turn him into a toad. Just like the wicked old lady in the story you told us.”
Lilly tried to hide her smile. She would have to be careful of what stories she told Max and ZeeZee as bedtime stories in the future. Especially if Liz was going to apply the stories to real life. “Mrs. Pallor-Smith is not wicked, ZeeZee. And I don’t want you saying that to her. Do you understand?”
Liz nodded her head, albeit reluctantly.
“Good.” Lilly reached down and took Liz’s hand in hers. “Now, come on. Let’s go save Max from that wicked old lady,” she said, giving Liz a playful wink.
Liz smiled back and followed Lilly to the litter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sealant New Mexico: (back at the Pallor-Smith Domicil)
“And then you have a perfectly delicious and delectable, not to mention healthy, meal.”
Max looked at the bowl of…well, he didn’t know what it was, sitting on the table in front of him. Miss-es Pal seemed to think it was some sort of food, but Max had his suspicions. “What is it?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and poking the funny thing with the spoon she had given him to eat it with.
Joy gasped in offense. “What is it? Well, how ungrateful. I’ll have you know, Max, this is my world famous original recipe of Apple-boil.” There was no masking the pride in her tone over her splendid preparation.
“Apple…boy-old?” Max’s head remained tilted over the bowl. He looked up at Miss-es Pal, now even more confused. “What’s boy-old?” Was there a boy in his food?
Joy sighed in exhaustion. The little thing just asked so many questions. “Not boy-old,” she stressed, “boil. It is the heating up of liquid, producing bubbles of gas that rise to the surface.”
Max’s beamed a smile. “Bubbles? Like bath bubbles?” He liked bath bubbles. They were splashy and fun to blow. Maybe he was supposed to blow the Apple-boy-old like he blew his bath bubbles. Max looked down at the bowl, drew in a deep breath, and blew as hard as he could on it.
The Apple-boil, which was quite literally a bowl of sliced apples that had been boiled in hot water and placed in a plane broth, splashed out of its bowl and onto Mrs. Pallor-Smith’s decorative, not to mention pricey, table placemats.
Joy gasped as she watched the mess spill all over the table. “Oh no, now look what you did!” she shirked. She quickly lifted the bowl, so as to prevent anymore of its broth from spilling out. “My Moo-Moo-shaftly-stitched-hand-woven-added-beaded-pixle-decorated-commemorative placemats!”
Max smiled. “Moo-Moo,” he repeated, and laughed again at the funny sounding word.
“Ugh!” Joy groaned. She didn’t usually make such appalling noises, but she couldn’t help but make the aggravated sound. Max was a little pintsized nightmare that had been deviously wrapped in adorable, and stuffed with giggles.
“Oh, you stop laughing right this instant!” she commanded.
Max could tell from the sound of Miss-es Pal’s voice that she was not happy with him. He looked down at the mess he had made when he blew on the boy-old, and knew that it was the reason for her being upset. “I’m sorry,” he said, and then looked at Miss-es Pal’s Moo-Moo-shaftly-stitched-hand-woven-added-beaded-pixle-decorated-commemorative placemats. “I know! I’ll fix it.” He placed his hand on the wet spot over the mat.
Joy snatched the mat away from him. “Don’t you dare touch it,” she said, and brought the mat up to her chest before she could remember the wet spot. She then quickly brought it away from herself and looked down at the front of her shirt, expecting to see the sight of apple broth smeared all over her clean shirt.
However, when she did look at her shirt, it was to see that oddly enough, it was clear of any of the food residue. “That’s odd.” She held the placemat up and looked at it. Perhaps even stranger, there was not a smear of apple-boil left on the thing. Joy lifted her brow in confusion and looked back down at the table that was still wet with the spilled food and the slices of apple.
“Oh,” she said, still a bit confused by the situation. “I suppose my placemat avoided the spill.” Somehow…? “But that was still very reckless of you, young man. Do you realize what you could have done?”
Max didn’t, but he just nodded his head. “Sorry,” he said again, then smiled, as if he knew it would help her not to be so mad at him.
Joy sighed again. He was a wily little thing, trying to charm her with that smile, and those bright eyes, and that apologetic glance. Who did he think he was? She cleared her throat. But when she spoke, there was less anger in her tone than before. “Well then, come on and help me clean it up.” She placed her hands on the back of his chair and moved it from the front of the table.
“Okay!” Max hopped down off the chair and looked up at Miss-es Pal expectantly. She walked over to the kitchen counter to grab a towel, then came back to Max. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “We are going to wipe the table off without getting a drop of it on my placemats,” she warned. “Aren’t we, Max?”
Max nodded. “Not a drop on Moo-Moo,” he said with a small giggle.
Joy couldn’t help but giggle herself…just a little. “Alright.” She handed him the towel and began removing the rest of the placemats from around the table.
Max lifted the towel and began wiping the table, which he was only just a head taller than, as much as he could with this disadvantage. He jumped and stretched and made a big show of attempting to wipe up the piece of apple that sat too far in the center of the table for his little arms to reach, but just couldn’t reach it. Max looked at Miss-es Pal, who seemed oblivious to his plight as she fussed over her Moo-Moo plate things.
What was he going to do? Miss-es Pal would be mad if he did not clean up the mess he made, like he said he would. But how could he clean the mess if he couldn’t reach it? Max sat the towel on the table. This situation called for Dover’s thinking pose. Assuming the position, Max began to think.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long for an idea to come to him. Max looked at the legs of the chair he had been sitting in before, then looked at his own legs. They were much longer than his own legs. In fact, when he had been sitting ion it, he could reach the table just fine.
His light bulb now screwed on, Max climbed back into the tall chair. However, apparently not screwed tight enough because when sitting in the chair, Max could reach the table just fine, but he still couldn’t reach the center. Max sighed. It was time for more thinking. He folded his arms, just like Dover, then touched his chin.
”Think, think!” he told himself. And then, another idea came to him. He bet it would be way easier to reach the center of the table if he stood up in the chair. Then he would have to height of the chair legs plus the height of his own legs. That would more than equal the space from the edge of the table to the center, and if he more than equaled the space from the edge of the table to the center, he would more than equal the center. And if he more than equaled the center, he could reach past the center, and if he could reach past the center, then he could reach the center!
Max smiled. He liked Dover’s thinking pose. It always helped him come up with the best ideas. He scrambled to his feet in the chair, making sure that his feet were firmly planted on the seat. But after he was sure and stable, Max discovered another problem. He might have more than equaled the space from the ledge of the table to the center standing up, but while standing up in the chair, he was even farther away from the center of the table. And too high up, he was definitely too high up as well.
Max frowned and looked at the piece of apple. Tricky apple. He wouldn’t let it get the best of him. One way or another, he was going to clean it up. And then, without even getting into Dover’s thinking position, another idea struck him. What if, like the apple, he was on the table? If he was on the table he could definitely reach the center. He smiled to himself. That was it!
Being careful not to fall, Max stepped over the tiny space from the chair to the table. Now the apple was well within his reaching distance. He walked to the center and got to his knees, then finally, triumphantly, victoriously, wiped the piece of apple off of the table.
“Look Miss-es Pal,” he said, holding it up in the towel. “I cleaned the table.”
Joy was in the midst of thoroughly examining her precious placemats when she heard Max call out to her. She turned around to see what he was doing and gasped in horror. The little boy had climbed up on her Old Mahogany (a wood she had spent a very long time trying to find)-Classic wooden table, and was sitting right in the middle of it, as if it were some sort of out of date barcalounger.
Dropping her placemats on the counter, she hurried over to him. “What on earth are you doing?” she demanded, reaching to lift him off the table.
Max’s smile died at the sound of Miss-es Pal’s voice. She was angry. He could tell. But why was she angry? He had cleaned the apple off the table. That was what she wanted him to do. That was what he was supposed to do, right?
“Why is Miss-es Pal mad?” he asked.
Without answering, Joy reached for Max, and lifted him off of the table. Then she surveyed the damage. Just as she had feared, there were little shoe scratch marks all over her table.
She looked at Max. He looked at her. She said nothing. He said nothing.
Max was worried now. Miss-es Pal seemed really, really angry now, and he didn’t know why. “Um…” he held up the towel. “I cleaned the table,” he said, hoping that would make her happy.
One two three four…Joy counted silently in her head. Five six seven eight…He was just a little boy after all. Nine ten eleven twelve…it was safe to assume that he didn’t know any better. Thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen. After all, he did live with those Blackwells, and they were not exactly perfect illustrations of good breeding. Seventeen eighteen nineteen…Still…
Joy looked down at her table. Shoe scratch marks!
She wasn’t going to explode. Not openly anyway. That would make her no more than a Neanderthal. She was, however, going to politely explain to Max why standing on her Old Mahogany Classic wooden table had not been a good idea.
“Max,” she started softly.
“Miss-es Pal?” he responded wearily.
“It is not polite, while in the domicile of other people, to stand upon their table. Even if it is in order to cleans it of a mess, so clumsily made,” she explained. Her voice was tranquil and serene, a complete contrast to what was going on in her head.
Max made a small ‘O’ with his mouth as understanding reached him. So he was not supposed to stand on the table. “Okay,” he said, then smiled at her to let her know that he understood.
Joy took another deep breath and then reminded herself for a third, fourth, and then fifth time that he was just an innocent child that didn’t know any better. She then watched as Max lifted the same towel he had used to wipe the apple pieces to wipe his hands, smearing apple all over them. Then he placed said dirty hand on the front of his shirt and looked up at her and said:
“I’m hungry.”
TBC