A Little Rhine Must Fall (16 page)

We sat in the darkness, parked in someone’s back yard between their pool screen and the fence, the only sound the ticking of the engine. Seconds later there was a glow of light as a car sped by, then darkness again.

I took the first breath. “Wow.”

Sarah got up on her hands and knees again. “I’m going to kill you, Piper!” she whispered. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

Bastet began to lick down pieces of fur that had gotten out of place during the jostling.
:You have done well, human:
she said regally.

I glared at her. Or at least, in her direction. It was too dark to see more than just a cat shaped blob on the floor. “I didn’t see
you
stepping in to fix things!”

She yawned. A fake nonchalance, I was sure. I’d heard her howling with terror along with everyone else.
:You seemed to have the situation well in control:

“Yeah, Sarah,” I hissed. “I had it under control.”

“Shhh!” Cecily warned. “We’re not home yet.”

We all got quiet as the lights went by the other way. Matthew was slowly cruising the neighborhood, trying to catch sight of us again.

“What is going on?” I whispered at Cecily.

She hung her head. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

“I forgot that Matthew is a modern enough vampire to think of using a sniper rifle. I assumed that he would attack personally and that I could take care of him. I didn’t even know he was on the roof of Aldi.” She hung her head even lower in shame. “I have failed you.”

I rolled my eyes. Such melodrama. “Just don’t let it happen again,” I growled and then giggled. The adrenaline was leaving my system and I felt like either crying or laughing hysterically.

“I do not like the way you humans drive,” alien/Karen suddenly announced. “It did not seem like you had complete control of your vehicle.”

Laughing hysterically won.

Chapter Fifteen:

Discipline

I slept in late the next morning. And by “late” I mean 7:45. A whole glorious fifteen minutes past when I usually get up. I’d forgotten to set my alarm the night before but the yelling on the other side of the house forced me to drag my tired bones out of bed.

We’d gotten in late the night before. Matthew had been extremely patient and methodical in driving up and down the streets trying to find us again. We’d sat in the minivan, quietly chatting and waiting for hours. I’d had to get out of the van and puke once, which put me in a fabulous mood. I don’t know if it was the stress and adrenaline or just normal morning sickness. It didn’t really matter. Puke is puke, no matter what causes it.

Alien/Karen was still determined to call in the rest of the Endring to enslave Earth which put everyone else in a great mood as well. We might not all be human, or have the same values, but we sure agreed on that. None of us wanted to be slaves.

Cecily ran a quick perimeter check before allowing us to drive home and promised to stay up all night on patrol to make sure Matthew didn’t risk a more personal attack. She seemed confident that fear of her was stopping him from a frontal assault on my home. I would have worried, but, with everything else that was going on, decided that, if a vampire and a skunk ape can’t keep your house safe, then nothing will.

I took Megan to the bathroom, made sure she actually washed her hands instead of just waving them in the direction of the running sink, and got her and Cassidy dressed. Then I peeked into the room we had set up as an office. Alien/Karen was peacefully sleeping on the Aero Bed, seemingly able to ignore the yells, shrieks, bangs, and general tromping about noises that my daughters made in the morning.

I guess it wasn’t that surprising. Mark was also ignoring them. I’d left our bedroom door wide open as a not so gentle hint for him to get his rear out of bed and come help, but so far he was able to feign sleep.

I was little stumped by breakfast. What do you feed an alien? I sniggered. That sounded like a bad joke. Like, where does an eight-hundred pound gorilla sit?

“What’s funny, Mommy?” Megan asked.

I poured some whole milk into sippy-cups. “I have a joke,” I told her. “Where does an eight-hundred pound gorilla sit?”

“What’s a gorilla?” she wanted to know.

“A really big monkey.”

“How big?”

“Eight-hundred pounds big.”

“Is that bigger than me?”

This joke, not that funny to begin with, was quickly losing all humor. “Yes, honey. Eight-hundred pounds is
way
bigger than you.”

“He sits in a big person chair,” she guessed.

“Nope,” I don’t know why I even bothered. “Where does an eight-hundred pound gorilla sit? Anywhere he wants to!” I laughed to show that it was funny and she should laugh too.

“Where does he want to sit?” she asked thoughtfully.

“Anywhe— oh, never mind.” I sighed. Standup comedian I was obviously not.

“I have a joke!” Megan announced.

“Joke!” Cassidy clapped her hands.

“Okay,” I pulled some frozen pancakes out and tossed them in the microwave. “Shoot.”

“Why doesn’t a duck wear glasses?” Megan asked.

I thought about it for a second. “I don’t know. Why doesn’t a duck wear glasses?”

“Because it doesn’t have ears!” she chortled.

Cassidy thought it was hilarious. I laughed heartily. “That’s a great joke, sweetie. Did you make it up yourself?”

“Yes,” Megan said proudly. “I made it up. It’s a good one.”

Alien/Karen came into the kitchen rubbing her eyes. She still looked just like my sister. I guess all my requests for her to change her looks had fallen on deaf ears. Or had been forgotten in the subsequent car chase. Perhaps it was for the best. It might be a little hard to explain
where
Karen went and
why
there was a total stranger camping out in our office.

“Breakfast?” I asked.

“Is there cake left?”

I checked the fridge. “Yup. Help yourself.”

“Aunt Karen! Aunt Karen!” Cassidy squealed.

“Hi!” she said brightly.

“What does duck wear?” Cassidy asked.

Alien/Karen looked puzzled. “I do not know.”

“Glass ears!” Cassidy burst into laughter.

I laughed. Alien/Karen turned to me. “I do not understand.”

“It’s okay,” I giggled. “You had to be here earlier.”

She cut herself a huge slice of cake and sat down at the table.

“Can we have cake?” Megan asked hopefully.

“Nope,” I said. “You get pancakes.”

“Aunt Karen is eating cake.”

“Yes, she is,” I replied. “Aunt Karen is an adult. You are a child and you get pancakes.”

“Cake!” Cassidy yelled.

“No.”

“Cake! Cake! Cake!”

I gave her the “Mom” look. “You get pancakes and I don’t want to hear another word.”

“Word,” Megan whispered defiantly, under her breath.

“What was that?” I asked threateningly.

“Nothing,” she sulked.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘yes ma’am, Mommy,” she said contritely.

“That’s what I thought you said.” I went back to cutting up pancakes into bite sized pieces.

“That is not what she said,” alien/Karen informed me.

“I know. It’s okay.”

“I do not understand.”

Sigh. This was going to be a long … however long it was going to take, until the aliens came and conquered Earth. Did she
have
to live with me until that happened? Why couldn’t she go live in a nice hotel somewhere? Like in China perhaps?

Bastet slunk gracefully into the kitchen.
:We would like our breakfast now:
she announced.

I gripped the knife tightly and tried to think happy thoughts. Thoughts about cats and aliens moving out of my house and leaving me alone. Otis interrupted me with a “meow.”

:Otis would also like his breakfast:
Bastet informed me. He rubbed up against her and playfully bit her ear. She purred.

I shook my head. I did not want to know what was going on between the two of them. Some things were better left unquestioned.

I fastened a bib around Cassidy’s neck and placed their pancakes in front of them. Alien/Karen sliced herself another piece of birthday cake. Maybe it would be like in
War of the Worlds
and the cake would be the poison that would kill her and stop the alien invasion! I watched for a bit. She seemed to really be enjoying it. Maybe it took time to kick in.

I got a can of
Fancy Feast
out of the pantry and peeled off the top for Bastet. She sat in front of the can and looked up at me, still waiting.

“Yes?” I asked irritably.

:We would like a bowl:

I grumbled but got a plastic bowl out of the cabinet.

:Glass:

I slammed the plastic bowl down on the ground, dumped the goopy cat food into it and threw the now empty can into the trash. Oops. Should have rinsed it out first. Oh well. It was too late it get it back out; it would ruin my rant.

I leaned against the counter, arms akimbo, and stared down the Egyptian goddess. Not the best move, or the smartest move, but I was ready to pick a fight.

She met my glare for a full minute before her eyes unfocused slightly and she started to stare past my ear. The cat equivalent of ignoring your existence.

“That’s right,” I said. “And don’t you forget it.”

She blinked, studied the countertop for a while and eventually wandered over the bowl and started to eat.

Otis rubbed up against my legs and gave a pitiful “mreowl?”

“I know. I know. I’m coming.” I headed into the laundry room to check his food bowl. It was on top of the washing machine to keep Harvey from eating all the cat food and then, consequently, puking up all the cat food.

There was about a quarter-cup of food left in the bowl which, to Otis, meant the bowl was empty and he was in imminent peril of starvation. I utilized a trick that Karen, my actual sister, had taught me, and poured the food in the bowl back into the cat food bag, stirred it around, and poured food back into his bowl. This convinced Otis that
all
the food in his bowl was new and eatable, otherwise, he would continue to leave that last quarter cup until it turned hard and stale.

Otis took one look at the food in his bowl, huffed, and then stared at me.

“Oh, no!” I cried. “You are
not
getting to eat Fancy Feast too! Her royal highness can demand whatever she wants for breakfast, but
you
get dry cat food.”

He gave me a hurt look and sulked down to the floor, where he treated me to another indignant glare before disappearing around the corner.

“If you’re hungry,” I called after him, “you’ll eat!”

Megan was happily dripping syrup all over the table, but Cassidy was pouting in her highchair, arms crossed tightly over her little chest.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I asked.

“No want pancakes!” she yelled. “Want cake!”

I gave her the Mom Death Glare and told her the same thing I had just told Otis. “If you’re hungry, you’ll eat.”

I turned to finally get a cup of coffee when a piece of pancake hit the back of my legs and slid its sticky way down to the floor. I gritted my teeth and made myself count to ten before turning around.

“Did you throw that?” I asked Cassidy, pointing at the food on the floor.

“Want cake!” she screamed at me.

I jerked a wipe out of the box on the counter and scooped up the sticky mess. Deep breathing. Don’t yell. Keep the moral high ground.

“If you throw food again, I will have to spank you,” I informed her sternly.

She picked up another piece of pancake and stared me down.

“Don’t do it,” I said. “I
will
spank you.”

She lifted the piece over her head.

I stood still and quiet and held her gaze. This was not going to end well for her. Or for me. I hated spanking my kids. My mom had always told us that spanking hurt her more than it did us. When I was a kid I hadn’t believed her. Now I knew what she meant.

I closed my eyes briefly and prayed that Cassidy would think twice about her defiance and put down the pancake. She was two. That level of maturity was beyond her. The pancake hit me square in the face and dripped down my chin. Megan gasped in delighted horror.

Cassidy finally knew she had gone too far. “No spank! No spank!”

The alien creature had been watching the whole exchange. “What is a spanking?” she asked, still eating the offending food that had started this whole mess.

I glared at her. “A spanking is physical discipline.”

“What?”

I explained, “I take this spoon,” I picked up a long handled plastic stirring spoon from the counter, “and I hit the child who needs discipline,” I waved it in Cassidy’s direction who immediately began to scream as if I had already walloped her, “on the bottom.”

Alien/Karen took another slow bite of cake. She frowned, then looked puzzled. “Why?”

“It teaches obedience.”

“How?”

Good question. I grabbed a wipe, sat down at the table and scrubbed the syrup off my face. Finally I thought I had a good analogy. “It’s like this. If you tell a child not to touch the hot stovetop, you want to protect them from getting burned. If they disobey, and touch the burner, they get an immediate lesson in obedience. Children learn best from instant discipline and training. If they disobey, it won’t always have an instant consequence that they can understand, but you still want to protect them from getting hurt later on, so a spanking teaches them that, like getting burned, there
are
consequences to disobeying.”

Alien/Karen chewed for a minute in thought, pondering (I imagined) my wisdom and parenting expertise. By this time it was way too late to spank Cassidy. Her attention span was only so long and I had just maxed it out. If I spanked her now she would have no idea why I was disciplining her.

I held her gaze firmly and said, “No throwing food, right?”

“Yes, Mommy!” she said cheerfully, stuffing three pieces of pancakes in her mouth; cake, food throwing, and spanking totally forgotten.

“What is a stovetop?” the alien asked.