“No change with the memory thing?” she asked.
“I think the fog is happening less.” That was true. But still…
…a dream-like voice, telling me I had to find something, steal something…
“You’re noting when they happen still? So Myra and Bathin can make sure there’s nothing weird going on?”
“Yes, Mother. Now if you’re done babysitting me, how about you babysit her?”
I unlocked the door.
Xtelle stood on the floorboard her head hanging, her mane and tail drooping. She looked comically miserable.
Jean fought down a smile. “Hey, Xtelle. No one’s here so you can talk if you want.”
She just sniffled and sighed.
Jean made big eyes at me, and I shook my head and moutheddrama pony. Jean swung her fist around by her shoulder like she was working a lasso.
“Xtelle, are you okay?” Jean asked.
Xtelle raised her head, and the calculating look she gave me quickly turned into big, fat, fake tears. Oh, she was gonna give Jean the floorshow and encore.
“She’s been so mean to me!” Xtelle gave a hiccupping wail. Jean turned to punch me lightly in the shoulder, mostly so she could hide her choking laughter.
“I’ve been fair,” I said. “You’re not in jail.”
“I’m expected to do manual labor. Do you understand how hard that is…? Uh, which sister are you?”
“Jean.”
“Right. The boring, childish one.”
A blush slapped Jean’s cheeks, and I stepped in front of her to grab the rope before Xtelle tangled in it and broke a leg.
“Don’t listen to her,” I said to Jean. “She says that kind of thing to all of us. Xtelle, you are acutely aware of the differences between the three of us and each of our powers and gifts.”
Xtelle paused, then hopped out of the Jeep. “Yes, well. I find all of your differences and gifts boring.”
“No.” I slammed the door. “You don’t.” I handed Jean the rope.
The heat in Jean’s cheeks had cooled, and she nodded once, giving Xtelle a steely glare.
A lot of people saw Jean as the happy sister. The funny sister. The geeky fan-girl sister. And yes, she was all of those things. She was also smart as a whip. A sunny disposition was easy to interpret as naiveté.
How much strength did it take to keep a happy attitude and caring heart in a world full of as much darkness as ours? How much strength to know that disaster and death were always right around the corner?
The answer was: a Jean’s worth of strength.
“Hogan’s got a side yard with a door straight into the kitchen,” Jean said. “He’s still working, and I’m not on duty for a couple hours, so you can hang out here behind the bakery while I get things together, and you can meet him.”
“Hang out.” She glanced back at me. “There must be a better choice than this… Reed.”
“Nope.” Jean looped the rope over her shoulder and headed toward the front of the shop. “I’m the best Reed you’re gonna get. Let’s go find out if my boyfriend is down with you pooping up his side yard.”
“Poop?” Xtelle said. “Delaney. Delaney. Does she expect me to poop in public?”
I waved. “Bye, Xtelle. Be a good pony. Poop in all the right places.”
