Saturday
MickeyMouseRN: Hey Aly
DreamBabeX: Hey grl!
DreamBabeX: Wsp?
MickeyMouseRN: nm u?
DreamBabeX: same.
MickeyMouseRN: howz ur mom?
DreamBabeX: not so great. she's at least sleeping better now.
MickeyMouseRN: i guess that's good. oh! guess what?
DreamBabeX: yeah it's good. hey, i g2g
MickeyMouseRN: ok. kiss yo mama for me and tell her to get better quick,
cuz she's missing out on ice cream bouts.
DreamBabeX: lol. i'll do that 4 you.
MickeyMouseRN: u better. buh-bye. lylas!
DreamBabeX: lylas 2
DreamBabeX: c*ya l8erz!
I logged off instant messenger and sighed. My best friend Mickey was the
only person I knew who had been told the whole truth of my mother.
She knew that my mother didn't want to get better. She knew that my mother
wasn't physically sick, just in her mind.
I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone but Mickey the truth.
Leaning back in the desk chair, I watched the phone. Mickey would be
calling any moment. I hadn't let her say her "guess what" on IM. She
wouldn't be patient enough to wait three hours until we went out for our
weeky Saturday Night Out.
Sure enough, the phone rang a few minutes later.
"Hey, Mickey!"
"Aly, you brat! You didn't let me finish my guess what!"
"Oh my Dog! How horrible! I don't suppose it could wait for dinner, could
it? By the way, where are we going tonight?"
"That new Greek place? What was it called... Biblos? Hey! Don't try to
change the subject. Guess what!"
"What?" I replied dutifully.
"My mom and dad have agreed that I can get my driver's license when I'm 16
instead of 18!"
"God, Mickey! That could have waited until tonight, you know. In fact, it
could have waited a couple of years. I don't know if you remember, but
uhh, you're only 14 right now?"
"Hey! I'll be 15 soon enough."
"Yeah, you'll be 15 in seven months. That more than half a year! And
weren't we talking about being 16 to drive. So that adds another whole
year..."
"Aly! Just enjoy the fact!"
"I am enjoying it, Mouse."
She laughed. She always did when I called her Mouse. The nickname had
started a few years ago when we were babysitting some kids. They were
watching a Mickey Mouse movie, and Mickey stood up and did a perfect
imitation of the Mouse's voice.
The kids laughed and started calling her Mickey Mouse. At school, she and
I referenced to her as Mickey or the Mouse.
In one class, somone asked about it. Once she'd done her voice for them,
well, everyone called her Mickey.
The thing with calling her Mouse was that she was anything but. Mickey was
almost 6-foot, with a loud booming voice and tiny ears.
I, on the other hand, was only 5'6-and--1/2" with a normal volumed voice,
and normal sized ears. We made such as great pair...
"So anyway, Aly, I just wanted to make sure that we were still on for
tonight...and to tell you about the license thing."
"You know I would have told you if I was going to miss dinner. In the
entire five year history of SNO, we have only canceled it three times.
Once when I had strep throat, once when your parents made you go on
vacation without me, and once when we were grounded for almost setting the
church on fire. Tonight will not make a fourth."
She was giggling.
"What, Mickey?"
"I almost forgot about the church," she gasped.
"The church! How could you forget! That was the best night ever, and the
worst punishment ever!"
"I know! We weren't allowed to see each other for three weeks. Do you
suppose either of our parents know that we snuck out two of the Saturdays
so we wouldn't miss SNO?"
"I'm sure they do. It's been three years."
"The church!!" she screamed and laughed.
"We were so mad when they put out our fire. We had taken, what, two hours
to start it."
"Three hours! I can't believe we chose to camp out in the backyard of that
place! I mean, there were hundreds of other places we could use as a
campsite!"
"Wait as sec! I just remembered..." I cried, "We were in that little
pastor cemetery!"
"Enough, enough! We'll talk tonight!"
"Fine. See you at six. E-mail me as to where the heck this restaurant
is."
"Deal. I suppose you should know where we're going. Mail should be in by
five, depending when my brother gets off the computer."
"Throw him off with your super-woman moves, sista."
"Good idea! LYLAS!"
She slammed the phone down, obviously excited at the idea of throwing her
brother with super-woman moves.
"Love ya like a sista too, Mickey." I replied to dead air. And I did. In
as sense, Mickey was my sister.
"Renea!" My mother was either awake or having nightmares. As far as I
could tell, the two actions were the same.
Renea had been six-years-old when, three months ago, she was shot, raped,
beaten, and left in a ditch in the middle of a cotton field. When my
mother saw her baby... that's when she lost her sanity. My father lost his
heart.
Wiping my eyes, I headed to check my e-mail.
Mickey's directions were precise, as if she had walked from my house to
Biblos, counting every step and every turn.
Choosing what to wear to dinner, I hummed to keep out the sound of my
mother's cries. The phone rang, a savior.
"Hello?"
"Hey Aly-x! Just wanted to tell you that you should wear that dark blue
dress you got in Oregon. And the matching purse, no. Not that purse,
something a little most sophisticated. Okay, and the black strappy
platforms."
"Yes, yes. Go on. My hair?"
"Do your hair up, in that tucky thingy I showed you the other day."
"Gibson tuck?"
"Yeah! That one! Shower before you come, and shave your legs because that
dress would look horrible if you forgot. Shave your armpits too, come to
think of it."
"My turn. You will wear the light maroon spaghetti strap dress, with the
little jacket. Then leave your hair down, with a headband. Your dark
brown heels will do for shoes."
"Fine. You know I don't really like that color."
"It accents your skin tone. You have naturally tan skin. I have paler
skin than Snow White herself." That was a little bit of an exaggeration,
but I was pale.
"Speaking of which, makeup. Adventure lipstick, with a little Willingness
on top. A dash of blush, the Vibrancy kind. And dark blue eye shadow to
match your dress."
"You are to wear Balance lipstick, with no blush, and just a wee wittow dab
of eye shadow, the color that's shade darker than Balance?"
"Fine, fine. I'd better go get ready. so should you."
"See you at six!"
I headed upstairs to get dressed.
Twelve minutes later, I dragged my bike out of the garage. Hitching my
dress up to the work-out shorts underneath and pedaled to the restaurant.
Mickey arrived at the same time as I did, she too on a bike with short
beneath her dress.
"Aly-x." She nodded a hi, out of breath from her ride.
"Mouse." I was out of breath as well.
Aly-x was her nickname for me. My full name was Alyxsa, because my parent
couldn't decide between Alexis and Alyssa. Mickey called me Aly-x as a
joke.
Wordlessly but panting, we entered the restaurant. Boom! Welcome to
Greece!
The air was filled with flavorful scents that made my mouth water. We
chose a table on the back patio, with a view of the Lake Shwinp Lake.
First we giggled over an appetizer, then laughed over the main course.
We totally lost it over dessert.
Our bill came and Mickey paid, asking me, "Have you been saving that money
for next Saturday? Have you even given thought as to where we're going?
Remember it's your weekend next."
"Yup. I know exactly where we'll go."
"Really? Where? Please tell me!"
"It's going to be a surprise!"
She pouted.
"Come on, Mouse, you'll love it, especially if you don't know where we're
going."
"It'd better be good."
"Oh it will be." We were to our bikes now, "See you later, Mickey!"
"Bye, Miss Ultra-Mysterious Aly-x Woman."
Still smiling, I pedaled back to home-not-so-sweet-home.
Music floated out to the open windows, singing, "Oh yeah, life goes on long
after the thrill of living is gone."
The words could have come from my mother's own mouth for the truth the
held.
Hadn't I ever been her thrill of life, though?
My father was waiting inside.
"Hello, Alyxsa. How was your night out?"
So he had seen my note on the table.
"It was very nice actually. We went out for Greek food. I r--"
"That's nice. I wanted to know when your school gets out."
"It is out. Yesterday was our last day. Why?"
"Everything is sealed now. It's a done deal."
"What is? Roger, what are you talking about?" I always addressed my
father by his first name, since he wasn't much of a father anymore.
"I'm adopting a little girl. For your mother."
"How old?"
"She's about eight years old or so."
"What's she look like?"
"I haven't met her in person yet. I will tomorrow when I pick her up. I
have pictures if you really want to see her."
"That's okay. What's her name?"
"You'll meet her tomorrow and find out all this stuff from her. Okay? Go
to bed now."
I shook my head as I climbed the stairs. This was amazing for my father.
He rarely was this thoughtful.
Slipping off the single strap of my dress, I snuggled into my pajamas.
Sunday
Tomorrow could bring a change in my entire life. Tomorrow could bring the
thrill back into my mother's life and she could enjoy living.
The next morning, she arrived. My father brought her home around seven-
thirty.
She had straight blond hair, very unlike my mother's and my dark brown
curls. Her eyes were scared and worried and almost black. Not vibrant
green as Renea's and mine.
She was thin though, like me. Her skin was almost the same tone as mine.
When she saw me, a look of puzzlement came over her face.
"Hello. I'm Aly. You can call me Aly-x, like my best friend does, though.
What's your name?"
No response. My father cleared his throat loudly, causing her to jump
towards me.
"She hasn't said anything since I got her. She won't respond to the name I
was told for her."
"What name is that?"
He paused for a moment, then boomed, "Sally."
I raised an incredulous eyebrow at 'Sally'. The flowered sundress could
belong on a Sally, but not that face. No, she wasn't a Sally. Definitely
not.
"Roger, why don't you let me talk with her while you go get her stuff.
She'll be in the room right under mine, I've decided."
He grunted and slipped out the front door.
"As I said before, I'm Aly-x. Now I think the agency my dad got you from
was completely wrong. You must have had a nicer name, but they just called
you Sally, isn't that right? Sally is a beautiful name, but you need
something better."
My father carried in a small suitcase and slammed the door with his foot.
Sally jumped towards me.
It was obvious that she was scared of loud noises, and very likely, of my
father too. I wondered what had made her so frightened.
"That's it, Alyxsa. You can take Sally to her room and help her unpack. I
have some things to do."
Leading Sally into the little room, I looked around for her boxes. There
was nothing. All she had was the almost doll-sized suitcase.
Opening it, I found a worn teddy bear, a tiny locket, and a sundress
identical to the one she already wore.
"We need to buy you some clothes!" I exclaimed.
She cringed. This was going to be difficult. Maybe Mickey would go
shopping with us.
Mickey! She had no idea I even had a new little sister.
"Okay, Sally. I'm going to call Mickey. Remember, I told you how my best
friend called me Aly-x. That's Mickey. You'll like her. She does funny
voices."
Once again leading Sally by the hand, I used the phone in the kitchen to
tell Mickey everything.
"Let's go over to Wal-Mart. Meet you there in a few minutes?" She
suggested.
"Wait, all she has is a sundress and too-small sandals. Does your brother
have any old clothes and shoes we could put her in?"
"I'll check. Then I'll come over. Do you have a bike she'll be able to
ride?"
"Yeah, my old one. I doubt she can ride very well, so I might as well put
the training wheels back on."
"Will do. I'll be over soon!"
Sally followed me into the garage like a lost puppy.
She helped me drag my old bike out onto the driveway, where she was able to
play with the handlebar streamers as I attached the training wheels.
"There you go, Miss Sally." I announced when I finished.
She was staring at a rapidly approaching figure. Mickey.
"Aly-x! Is this, what was her name, Sally?"
"She isn't going to stay Sally though. Don't you agree that can't be her
real name?"
"Of course. What names have you thought of?"
"I actually can't quite find one that fits her."
"Have you introduced her to your mom? I mean, isn't that why Roger adopted
her?"
"Damn! I completely forgot!"
"That's okay. We'll get her a nice outfit and take her in to your mother.
Meanwhile, here's some shorts and a shirt from my brother's old stuff."
"It's quite wrinkled, and looks like it might be too big."
"Hey," she yelped defensively, "It was clean, unlike most of the stuff he
owns."
"Okay, okay. Let's go get her dressed."
We managed to keep Sally in the clothes until we got to the store, where we
put her in the first outfit we could get out hands on.
"She looks cute!" "Perfect!" "You like it? Good, you'd better." "Oooh,
ooh, how about this one?"
Mickey and I danced through the clothing department, shouting comments at
each other from rack to fully-stocked rack.
Looking for something for her presentation to my mother, a red top and
leopard print skirt caught my eye.
Perfect. I whirled to show it to Sally.
Her eyes widened as she took in the shirt's vibrant tone. With a cry, she
dove into the center of a circular rack and huddled there.
"Mickey!" I called, "I think it's time to go! You don't have anything red
chosen, do you?"
"A couple of things. Why?"
"I think she's scared of that color."
"Why would she be scared of red...? Oh. I see."
"What? Why do you think she doesn't like it? Do you think it's just
something she can't stand? Like I can't stand ballet pink?"
"You don't run and hide when you see someone with pink. Think, what else
is red that people don't like?"
"Apples. You don't like red apples. No, I know that's not it, so don't
make faces at me. Um, I'm thinking too hard. My mind's blanking out on me
here."
"Blood! If she was adopted, that means her parents might be dead. How do
we know they weren't brutally murdered and she saw their bloody bodies?"
"I saw Renea's body after she was shot and beaten until she was barely
recognizable." My voice was hard and expressionless.
"I'm sorry. But you're older than her. You are braver, you have more
courage, you can withstand almost anything. She can't. All I'm saying, is
maybe she saw something bloody and now she's scared of it."
"You're assuming too much."
"Don't you agree it's possible though?"
"Anything is possible."
"I agree. Pigs could fly. But they would have to lose a lot of weight,
develop strong large wings, and have better legs for pushing off and
landing."
"Don't start on the pigs again."
"May I finish?"
"Just explain why you brought the pigs in this time."
"Okay, I'm just saying, my scenario was possible, without all these things
having to be adjusted like the flying piggly-wigglies."
We coaxed Sally out of the store without any red clothing and manages to
get her home in one piece.
"You want me to stay while you take her up to your mother?" Mickey
offered, relaxed hands spread wide.
"No thanks. I'll be fine. Thanks for offering. Come over for breakfast
tomorrow though. We'll have a celebratory end-of-school, start-of-summer,
Ombenevning-av-Sally, you-get-the-idea breakfast."
"As we instant message freaks would say: LOL!!" She laughed-out-loud to
suit her abbreviation.
"IM me tonight. I'll probably try to get her to bed around eight, so we'll
try for sometime shortly after that?"
"Okay. Talk to you then!"
She sped off and I whisked Sally into the house.
Sitting her down on her bed, I cleared my throat softly, "Remember how I
said we were going to find a perfect name for you?"
She cocked her head to the left quickly and jerked it back.
Interesting, I noted. "Well, tomorrow morning Mickey and I are going to
have a Ombenevning. That's Renaming in Norwegian, you know."
She jerked her head to the left again.
"Okay, since you arrived, I haven't heard you say a single word. The
Ombenevning required you to accept the title by saying ja eller ingen.
That means yes or no. We're going to have to devise a way for you to say
ja without your silence preventing you."
Little head cocky thingy.
"Is that yes?"
Head jerk.
"Is your name really Sally?" My voice stumbled with excitement.
She dropped her chin to her chest and rolled it up to her right shoulder.
"Does my friend Mickey call me Aly-x? Ja eller ingen?"
Her head jerked in the first motion.
Ahh, progress. The head jerk was ja and the roll was ingen.
Fremadskridende! Fremadskridende!
I grabbed a coffee mug from the table and demanded, "What's this?"
She jerked her head to the left, then rolled it to her right.
Progress! I snatched a pen from the table, "And this?"
She repeated the combination of yes and no. Probably meaning I don't know
or don't know how to say.
"Give me your hands," I ordered.
She obediently held out her limp hands. I shaped her fingers so that all
were down except her index finger and thumb, which made an L.
I described the letter, "L is for love."
Then I molded her fingers so that the pinky and thumb stuck out of the
fist, "Y is for you."
I repeated the L "The second L is for like."
Two more letters. I folded her hand into a fist with the thumb on the
side, "A is for a."
The fist with the thumb in front, "S is for sister."
I spelled out the letters with my own hands, saying the word as I went
along, "Love you like a sister."
She copied my hands, spelling LYLAS on her own.
"That's going to be your new name, okay? Not Sally anymore. Now you will
be Mickey's and my Lylas."
I took her to her room and helped her get ready for bed. When she was
snuggly tucked in, I kissed her lightly on the forehead.
Crossing my fists across my chest, I whispered, "Love." Pointed to her I
added, "You."
Monday
The next day was Monday and my father left early to go somewhere, I suppose
to work.
Mickey arrived around eight carrying a container of blueberries, a box of
donuts, and a 500 page notebook, under her arm.
'"Oh god god, fremadskridende!" I grinned.
Before Mickey got there, I had explained the Ombenevning to Sally (soon-to-
be-Lylas) in English. I figured she might not be able to follow the words
in Norwegian.
"We will do all the talking. Normally the person says that they accept the
name, but you can just do your head thing. Anyway, the ceremony, remember
it's called an Ombenevning, or Renaming, will be saying:
"We, the crazed and wild, give you the name of Lylas for the rest of your
life as one of our being, and for eternity. You, Lylas, accept? Yes or
no? (This is where you say yes.) Oh good good, onward to celebration.
"Make sense?"
She jerked yes.
When Mickey arrived, we were ready. I smeared blueberry juices down
Lylas's nose. She wrinkled her nose up and down like a rabbit when was
done, causing Mickey to snort with laughter and mess up her own nose.
Once we all had our nose stripes, we helped Lylas smear a little bit of
juice on each of her eyelids before we did ourselves.
Finally, we placed a whole blueberry under each of our tongues. It took a
few tries to keep Lylas (formerly Sally) from eating them.
When we were ready, Mickey and I chanted in unison:
"Gir vi, det gale og ville, De det navnet av Lylas for resten av Deres liv
som en av vår væring, og for evighet. De, Lylas, aksepterer? Ja eller
ingen?"
Mickey grew puzzled at Lylas's silence, but I smiled when she cocked her
head, "That means yes," I whispered to Mickey.
We chanted the closing line:
"Oh god god, fremadskridende til fest."
Clapping and screaming like mountain lions, we swallowed our blueberries
and began the "party." I grabbed three cans of whipped cream from the
fridge and started the traditional whipped cream fight.
Mickey mixed root beer and pink lemonade powder with peanut butter and
chopped blueberries for her famous Mickey Mouse's Suicide Concoction,
another tradition.
In the end, it all came down to this: we made a mess.
As we were cleaning up, Mickey asked, "So what'd your mom think?"
"Um, I didn't get a chance to introduce her. I was busy coming up with the
name, and finding out how she says yes and no."
"Are you going to keep putting it off? She has to know sometime."
"Yeah, I know."
"Why don't you wash up Lylas, put her in one of those outfits, and take her
up right now? I'll finish cleaning. Or I can go up with you."
"Okay. You come pick out an outfit with me."
We chose a dark green dress and tied Lylas' hair back with a matching
ribbon.
Mickey escorted me up to my mom's room, then waited at the door as I went
in.
"Mom?" My voice was barely above a whisper, "Mom, there's someone I want
you to meet."
"Renea?" She turned towards me, her eyes red and glassy.
"No, Mom, it's me. Alyxsa. I want you to meet Lylas." I pushed her
forward.
"Alyxsa?"
"Yes, Mom. And this little girl is named Lylas. Mickey and I picked it
out."
"Mickey?"
"Remember Mickey, Mom? My best friend? You used to take us to the ice
cream parlor together."
"Who's this?"
"This is Lylas. Roger adopted her. Yesterday."
"Roger?"
"Roger is your husband! Mom, look at me! I came in here to show you
Lylas. This is your new daughter!" I hated her for her refusal to accept
Renea's death. I hated coming to see her because she never knew whom
anyone was.
"My daughter? Renea?"
"No, Mom. This is Lylas. Renea is DEAD! She is not coming back!"
I grabbed Lylas by the hand and stormed out, slamming the door loudly
behind me.
"I take it that didn't go well?" Mickey was leaning against the wall,
holding a picture of Renea.
"No, it didn't. Why can't she get over it like the rest of us? She is so
obsessed over her little girl. What about me? Wasn't I ever her little
girl? What about Roger? He loved Renea too, he loved Mom."
"Of course you were her little girl. But you didn't die. You grew up.
You aren't her baby anymore. Renea was." She held up the picture of my
sister, "Anyways, I was thinking maybe we could tell Lylas about her."
I grabbed the picture and flung it off the side of the upstairs balcony.
Below, the glass of the frame shattered.
"I'm tired of her! Why did have to go and get herself killed?" I pulled
another picture of Renea off the wall and flung it down. I heard the
satisfying sound of breaking glass.
As I reached for another, Mickey grabbed hold of my arms. She was stronger
than me. Soon, I stopped struggling and sank to the floor, crying.
"Why Renea? Why us? Why, Mickey, why?"
"I don't know, Aly. But the fact is, it was Renea who was murdered. It
was you and your family who were affected. You can't change the past, but
you can choose how it shapes the future."
"She refused, Mickey. She refused to acknowledge Lylas. She kept asking
about other people, but she never even looked at Lylas."
"It's okay. Shhh. She'll accept her soon enough--X?"
I looked up at her, "What's wrong?"
"Where is Lylas?"
"I thought she was right there, next to you."
"No, I think she got scared when you threw the picture."
"Did she go downstairs?"
"I don't think so," she looked around, "Wait! You slammed the door, right?
How come it's open?"
I followed her eyes. The door to my mother's room was open a crack. I
nodded to Mickey and we crept to peer in.
Lylas had brushed out and was loosely braiding my mom's hair. Every few
seconds, Lylas would pat mom's shoulder, or stroke her hand, or even kiss
her lightly on the cheek. Mom's eyes were closed, but there was a little
smile on her dirty pale face.
I pulled back, astonished. Mickey plopped down beside me.
She spoke first, "Wow."
"Yeah. I haven't seen my mom smile in... three months. Since Renea."
"I guess Project Lylas is working. It looked like your mom was getting
better."
"I think so."
"Come on. Let's go get some ice cream to celebrate."
"No, maybe later. I've got some housework to do."
She groaned, "Don't remind me. I've got to clean my room when I go home."
"Ooh. Sounds exciting! IM me tonight. Sorry I wasn't on last night. I
was busy with settling Lylas in."
"That's okay. I'll talk to you tonight then."
She left and I set about doing my chores. At seven o'clock, I logged onto
my instant messenger. Mickey wasn't on, but her little brother was.
GameKing00: Hi Aly
DreamBabeX: hi. where's mickey?
GameKing00: This is me. My name isn't working.
DreamBabeX: really?! okay, prove it to me.
GameKing00: You don't believe me?
DreamBabeX: no. actually, i dont.
DreamBabeX: tell me what we did this morning.
GameKing00: we went shopping and i stole some of johnny's clothes.
DreamBabeX: that wasn't this morning. that was yesterday.
GameKing00: oops. okay i forget what we did.
DreamBabeX: Go get your sister.
I grabbed the phone off my desk and dialed Mickey's house.
"Hello, Delacortte residence." Mickey's mom answered politely, as if she
hadn't left her office yet today.
"Hey, this is Aly. Is Mickey there?"
"Who?"
I sighed. Her mother never really understood the whole 'Mickey' nickname,
"Is Katherine-Jane there?"
"Oh, yes. Please hold."
I heard her yell for 'Katie-dear'. Mickey picked up a second later.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Not much. Just wondering if you knew your brother was on his IM
pretending to be you."
"Again?"
"Again."
"I'll go kick him off with my super-sista moves."
"So why aren't you on?"
"I'm grounded for the rest of today because I took the blueberries without
permission."
"Can you get on tomorrow morning?"
"Sure."
"Okay. Go kick some little brother butt. I have to go get the mail."
"Okay. Lylas."
"Right back atchya."
I hung up and checked on Lylas. She was curled up asleep next to my mom.
I left her as she was and went outside to my bike. The ride to the post
office was short, but mostly uphill.
I rode hard. Just before I got there, I passed a house surrounded by
flashing police lights. Police tape was wrapped around the house and
surrounding area.
An officer stopped me on the sidewalk, "We're sorry, but you aren't allowed
here. This is a crime scene. You'll have to ride somewhere else."
"I'm just going to the post office." I pointed to the brick building at
the end of the block.
"Okay. But ride a different was back."
"I will."
I pedaled quickly away from the scene. I didn't like police. Not since
they hadn't found Renea's killer.
The mail had just arrived, but it was all junk and bills. I stuffed it in
my backpack and rode the long way home.
Tuesday
I got up early the next morning because I knew Mickey would be up. I was
right. She was already online when I logged into DreamBabeX.
MickeyMouseRN: what took you so long?
DreamBabeX: hello to you too
MickeyMouseRN: it's already seven-thirty. i've been on for hours
DreamBabeX: sure u have.
MickeyMouseRN: i swear i have
DreamBabeX: okay. whatever.
MickeyMouseRN: yeah. i was watching the 6 o clock news and i saw this
story that was kinda interesting.
DreamBabeX: are they going to play it again?
MickeyMouseRN: ida no
MickeyMouseRN: i'm downloading it from their site tho
DreamBabeX: cool. what's it on?
MickeyMouseRN: this murder case. they say that two parents were
killed and their daughter was kidnapped
DreamBabeX: i don't want to see that
MickeyMouseRN: wait. there's two reasons i thought of you.
MickeyMouseRN: 1. the little girl looks a lot like lylas and 2. the
police say the same gun that was used on renea was used on these
parent.
DreamBabeX: ur kidding!
MickeyMouseRN: no, its the same gun. they think its the same guy.
DreamBabeX: maybe they'll catch him this time.
MickeyMouseRN: yeah. i was thinking that we should tell the police
that we think lylas is that little girl.
DreamBabeX: no, i don't think so.
MickeyMouseRN: why not? you haven't seen the picture. it looks just
like her.
DreamBabeX: roger adopted her. he didn't kidnap her.
MickeyMouseRN: okay. whatever u say. i g2g
DreamBabeX: ok. call me and we'll meet for ice cream.
MickeyMouseRN: sure. by-by
DreamBabeX: LYLAS
DreamBabeX: c*ya l8erz
I signed off and padded into the kitchen. Lylas was sitting at the table.
"Hey. You're up early. What do you want for breakfast?"
She held up a box of Rice Krispies.
"Snap, Crackle, and Pop, huh? Sounds yummy. I'll have some too."
We ate silently, the Rice Krispies making the only sound in the room.
Mickey stomped in just before we finished eating.
"Hey there, Mouse. You look mad. What's up?"
"There's a roadblock a few streets over. They think the killer is from
this area."
"Ooh. How exciting!"
"Yeah right."
"Did you bring a CD of that new clip?"
"Clip? Whoa, I never said clip! The one from CNN is sixteen minutes long.
The one from ABC is twelve minutes. Oh, and the one from whatever channel
13 is called is seven minutes. There's no clip."
"Okay okay. Let's watch."
We all filed into my bedroom. Mickey took control of the computer. I
squeezed into the chair with her, half sitting in her lap. Lylas wandered
around the room, looking at all my junk.
"Here's the one from channel 13." Mickey brought up the first file from
the disk.
I watched. It was a short story, talking about how this murder could be
linked to Renea.
"That one wasn't too great. But, here's a better one."
She played the report from ABC. It was a little more in depth, and it
showed a picture of the little girl. I had to admit, it did look a little
like Lylas.
But it wasn't her. I knew it couldn't be. The idea was impossible.