Will's rounded jaw dropped as he stepped into the center of the space and slowly spun to take in every last little detail, the dumbfounded boy so overwhelmed by all the cool stuff he was seeing that he could barely believe all of it was his. In the corner there was a whole construction site's worth of heavy equipment, trucks and bulldozers and cranes just begging to be scooted around on the felt, road-themed rug spread out beneath them. Beside the collected vehicles there sat a stout wooden trunk lovingly hand-painted to resemble a treasure chest, built so solidly that Will could just barely heft open its lid. He was rewarded for his efforts when he discovered the small arsenal of Nerf and squirt guns within, to say nothing of the huge bucket of Lego bricks and the simple accompanying sets designed to test the five-year-old's dexterity and attention span. Mommy had even set up a cool bed that looked like it was made from the kind of trees that were right outside his window – a bed whose headboard was adorned with a carefully-rendered painting of a snoozing bear cub.
All of that, however, paled in comparison to the coup de grace. The surface of Will's bedside table was practically smothered by cowboys of all shapes and sizes, no identical two to be found among the lasso-twirling, bronco-bucking, pistol-flashing crowd. What's more, the models had been arranged to suggest that the opposite sides were engaged in some sort of all-out war, Will's imagination so stimulated by the sight that he could hear the explosive bangs of the six-shooters and the wild whinnying cries of startled steeds. And right in the middle of all the chaos stood Hank, proud and true, so calm and strong in all the disarray that the boy knew he'd be able to get all the other cowboys to stop fighting and hurting each other.
Will squealed as he hopped madly about his room, unable to contain himself any longer and unable to decide what he should play with first. Though the boy considered the matter with the utmost seriousness, he realized while making his choice that – for all the fun, incredible stuff mommy had gotten him – something really, really important wasn't there. Will's cute little face scrunched up in confusion as he tried to put his finger on what was missing, baffled that he could be in need of anything beyond the toys and games that surrounded him…so much so that he was confused when he came upon the mental image of a simple writing desk, not knowing how that could possibly be more important than bashing his trucks together or starting a Lego set. Will was on the verge of forgetting about it altogether when he remembered that it wasn't some dumb old piece of furniture that was important but rather what was hidden inside, something mommy couldn't find no matter what!
As hard as Will thought, though, his memories refused to surrender any further hints as to what had been in there. Soured on the idea of playing while this mystery remained unsolved, the annoyed boy grabbed Hank before huffing his way out of the room and down the stairs. Will was about to follow the voices in the kitchen when he realized that he couldn't very well go up and ask mommy if she had the thing she wasn't supposed to see, and that asking Jane for help was out of the question while the two of them were talking. His ears perked up when he heard a commotion down the hall, chasing happily after it when he remembered that that was the way his big brother had went.
“Hi Liam!” Will chirped as he popped into the office, giggling at the second-grader's silliness when he jumped and squeaked in surprise. The five-year-old frowned as he studied the piles of paperwork in Liam's arms and the half-stuffed backpack at his big brother's feet. “Whatcha doin'?”
Liam clenched his teeth in exasperation – looking momentarily as if he might snap at his younger brother for interfering in such important business – before he managed to get his emotions under control. Stuffing another bunch of papers into his backpack, he pointed instructively at the large stack of files still ordered neatly in the open filing cabinets. “It’s…a game.” He explained, disguising his obvious distress behind a cheery smile. “We’re being secret agents. All we need to do is get the special documents out of the house and into the car.”
Will bounded forward excitedly, rustling the papers noisily as he gathered a few up in his arms. “Just like Alex Law!” He enthused, having a vague recollection of a cool big kid spy that Julio had told him about.
“Exactly.” Liam agreed but gestured his hands downwards to signal for his younger brother to keep his voice down. “You’ve gotta be quiet though, okay? We can’t let the grown-ups hear, especially mom.”
The little boy gave an excitable nod, dropping his voice into a breathy whisper. “Spies are the best ‘cause they’re just like soldiers and cowboys and stuff ‘cause they got big guns, but they’re secret and they’re really good and hidin’ as well. Like ninjas!”
Liam winced at the five-year-old’s clumsy attempt at stealth, the little boy stomping and crumpling his way across the documents like a bull in a china shop. Grabbing hold of his polo shirt as he passed, he quickly placed a silencing finger over the boys’ lips, hushing him urgently. Will looked up at him with big, betrayed eyes, more than a little perturbed by his brother’s apparent disinterest in his opinions on secret agents.
“Sorry, buddy.” The second grader apologized with a serious frown “But I said quiet, remember?” The younger boy nodded in agreement, easily won over by his big brother’s authority. “Why don’t you sit down and pack those files in my backpack, and I’ll go and get the others?”
The boy did as he was told, but found the new monotonous task much less entertaining than prancing around the office – especially since he wasn’t even allowed to talk! He was soon lost in a daydream, however, imagining himself wearing a stylish pair of dark shades and a snappy miniature black suit, sneaking through corridors and picking locks to help unmask a shady cabal of villainous plotters. As he seized up another file in his little pudgy fingers however, his soft lips popped open in surprise to see the label written across the front in hastily scrawled cursive. Despite his massively reduced reading capabilities, he would have recognized the familiar single syllable anywhere.
“Hey!” He chirped out loudly, completely forgetting Liam’s instructions. “That’s my name!”
Liam turned around at once – gliding across the room to sit by his brother’s side with a dour concerned frown on his face – only to find Will looked more delighted than perturbed by his discovery, giggling with amusement as he opened up the portfolio cover. At the very top of the stack of documents was a small scrap of paper, bearing a few lines of scribbled childish print. Will put his finger to the top line, soft brow furrowing in concentration as he attempted to put together the words in his head before trying to read them out loud.
“Hey….mom…” he began, the first two monosyllabic words giving him little trouble. “I don’t keh…kuh…kuh now?” He asked uncertainly, looking up at his brother for confirmation.
The stressed-out second-grader was on the verge of urging Will to put his find back in the folder, knowing that the longer they lingered the better their chances of Abby catching them in the act. Try as he might, however, Liam couldn't force himself to do so once he realized what he and his little brother were looking at. The lined piece of notebook paper Will clutched in his tiny hands looked as though it had been thrown away and then retrieved from the trash, crumpled up so badly that even Liam found some of the words difficult to make out. Just the same, the bigger boy was able to quickly read a few lines ahead – and in doing so he grew all too aware of who'd written the letter and who its intended recipient was.
Liam could've insisted on putting the piece of paper back, could've assured the curious boy that they'd have plenty of time to read it once they were done with their spy game. But when he looked into Will's bright, curious eyes, he seemed to realize that by then it might be too late – that his little brother might be too far gone to appreciate what he'd written. Liam looked at the office's open door before pressing on, reading the letter aloud and guiding the tot's stubby finger beneath each pronounced word.
“Hey mom...” Liam read slowly not only for Will's sake but to keep his voice from quavering as he continued. “I don't know if you'll ever read this...”
Liam stole the occasional glance at his little brother as he continued, heart breaking as Will's smile slowly faded – as he frowned and bunched his furry little caterpillar eyebrows. Though the bigger boy could tell that some of Will's confusion came from unfamiliar words like disheartened, attorney, miserable and counselor, the five-year-old wouldn't have started shaking halfway through the letter were he merely puzzled about a term here and there. It was difficult enough for Liam to keep his composure as the distance between Will and his mother became clear, the second-grader surprised when their complicated relationship reminded him of arguments he'd had with his own parents – breath hitching for just a moment when he realized he hadn't thought of his mother and father since the conversation at the café with his then-big brother. Will wasn't simply pouting in annoyed bewilderment. The only word Liam could think of to describe what his little brother was doing – though its meaning was unclear even to him – was mourning.
“...I'd do anything to see you again. I miss you so much.” Liam murmured. “Love...Will.”
He let his little brother's hand go and grimaced when it fell limply against the page, turning to Will to find the boy pale and stiff as he stared numbly at what he'd written. Though Liam had remained aware during all of this that they needed to keep quiet, he almost would've preferred that Will break down bawling as opposed to seeing him so devastated that he couldn't even cry. It was of some relief to the second-grader when his little brother finally broke the silence, even if his strained, halting squeak spoke to the horrible storm of emotions swirling within him.
“I...my...” Liam nearly started crying himself when Will looked up at his big brother, tears finally beginning to pool in the cloudy forest of his eyes. “That...that was about my mommy, Liam...my real mommy...she's out there somewhere, and I...I forgot her! And if I hadn't read this I would've never...never...”
Will shivered and shook his head, wrapping his tiny arms around his scrawny, heaving chest as he rocked restlessly in Liam's lap.
“I'm...I'm the worst kid that ever lived...” The inconsolable boy blubbered. “I don't deserve to go on the 'venture, I, I – ”
“Will.” The five-year-old was startled out of his spiral when Liam took him by the shoulders and forced his little brother to meet his stony gaze. “You're not a bad kid. And it's not your fault you forgot her. Okay? It's Abby's. And the sooner we get away from here...the sooner we can go see your real mommy.”
“Okay…okay.” Will sniffled uncertainly, allowing Liam to wipe away the tears from his glistening green eyes with a soft tender finger. As his older brother snuggled him close, planting a final reassuring kiss on his tangle of soft downy golden hair, he managed to summon a hopeful smile. “We’re gonna run away, and we’re gonna find my mommy, and everything will be okay again.” He asserted, flexing his little fingers against the file still clasped in his hand with silent determination.
“That’s right.” Liam agreed, lightly patting the little boy’s back and prompting him to wiggle out of his lap to stand up confidently on his own two feet. The older boy soon followed, zipping up the backpack and slinging it hurriedly over his back. “Let’s get out of here. You got your toy?”
“Uh-huh!” Will agreed, tiptoeing over towards where he had abandoned Hank among the overwhelming collection of files that wouldn’t fit in Liam’s backpack. The boy grabbed up as many documents as he could, the cowboy action figure balancing suavely upon them like an intrepid gunslinger astride his horse. At the very top of the stack was his own file, the precious letter to his mother in pride of place folded under Hank’s plastic arm. But as they passed through the door, both boys’ arms laden heavily with files, a shadowy, stocky figure emerged from around the hall corner.
“Boys…” Abby’s voice rang out, harsh and suspicious, her confident stride repelling them in terror back towards the office. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Will could only whimper in fright, his bones feeling as chilly as icicles and his lip quivering uncontrollably – completely overwhelmed by the childish dismay that could only come from a little boy caught red handed misbehaving. Liam however still maintained some schoolboy bravado, stepping forward protectively in front of his little brother and trying to force a deceptive smile. “We were just…playing!” He explained uneasily. “Err…secret agents, like Alex Law. Isn’t that right, Will?”
The smaller boy gave an affirmative hum, nodding his head desperately in agreement, but their duplicity was obvious – and Abby wasn’t easily fooled.
“Don’t lie, Liam.” She scolded, forcing them to retreat even further as she stalked into the office proper. For a moment, her aggressive gait made Will think that she actually might mean to strike him, but instead she made a far more terrifying move, carefully plucking Hank from atop the files and unfolding the letter from under his arm. “Where did you get this?” She asked, although it was clear from her tone that she already knew the answer.
Liam gulped, realizing that the game was up. Unable to save himself, he made a final garbled attempt to spare his brother. “I’m sorry!” He squeaked pathetically, attempting to sound so adorably contrite that Abby might extend him some small mercy. “I was just curious! Will didn’t even see it…I didn’t even tell him anything! I wasn’t going to!”
“Oh, Liam.” Abby sighed, sounding more disappointed than angry. She grabbed her black leather handbag from atop the desk, undoing the zip with a singular strong tug. “You were doing so well. But maybe you’re just not mature enough to be the big brother…”
Will’s eyes widened in horror as he got a good look at the gas canister emerging from Abby’s handbag. “No!” He mewled in impotent indignation, pawing uselessly at her strong arm. “Leave him alone!”
“Stand back, honey bear.” Abby instructed firmly, pulling his weak interfering hands easily out of the way. “Mommy has to do this…”
The little boy let out an animalistic snarl before she could press down on the trigger, rushing forward again and chomping down hard on Abby’s extended hand. The woman let out a sharp cry of pain, the canister tumbling to the ground with a metallic THUNK.
“You’re not my real mommy!” Tthe boy screeched with red faced fury “You’ll never be my real mommy!”
As much as it'd hurt Abby when Will sank his razor-sharp baby teeth into her skin, it was what happened after the attack that seemed to really wound her. She straightened up and gaped at her smallest son as though he'd slapped her clean across the cheek, so stunned by what he'd said that it looked to Liam as though Abby needed a moment to convince herself that her sweet little honey bear had really uttered something so horrible. His tummy twisted itself into a pretzel and his knobby knees started knocking when that moment passed, when she glared down at Will with a fury so barely contained that her cheeks glowed crimson from the strain of keeping herself composed. Intimidated as Liam was by the sight, he knew that Will – the object of her ire – had to be ten times more scared than he was. But when he stole a glance at the defiant little boy, he didn't see a petrified preschooler cowed by mommy's anger. Though Will was shaking from head to toe – though fat tears escaped his brimming eyes and streaked their way down his chubby cheeks – he kept his back straight and his fists clenched as he fearlessly met Abby's unblinking stare, making it clear to the woman that, for all she'd taken from him, his rebellious spirit was still alive and well.
“I should've left that letter in the garbage where it belonged.” Abby whispered, seemingly to herself, the declaration all the more chilling for how hollowly her voice echoed within the small room. Though Will was all set to shout that it was in fact Abby that belonged in the garbage, his childish comeback was cut off when the woman clamped a meaty hand upon his skinny wrist, trapping him in an iron grip so painfully tight that it refused to loosen no matter how desperately the boy struck at her with his free hand. She effortlessly held him in place as she scooped up the canister, the panicked flailing of her screaming son doing little to slow Abby down as she dragged him over to her chair and yanked him into her lap. As wildly as he struggled, Abby had wrapped her beefy arm so securely around his skinny waist that he couldn't manage anything more than a helpless wriggle – not even as she smothered the bawling boy's nose and mouth with the nozzle.
“I'm so sorry, darling – I've failed you again.” Abby cooed, so quietly she could barely be heard above Will's hysterics. “But mommy's going to make everything better, okay? I promise you'll feel right as rain as soon as you take a nice, long, deep breath.”
“STOP!” Liam shouted, mustering his last bit of determination to keep from joining Will in crying his eyes out. “Please don't. Please. I...I promise we won't make any more trouble, just...just don't, I'm begging you...”
“Oh, sweetheart...” Though the second-grader was petrified of her dead-eyed stare, he preferred it infinitely to the stomach-turning smile she donned as she looked at Liam, handily keeping a disconsolate Will trapped against her all the while. “I know this is scary, but I promise that I know what's best – and if you interrupt me again, I might decide that's what best is for you to join your little brother in diapers.”
Will's resistance – which had wound down to miserable crying and squirming as he ran out of energy – found a second wind when the D word rang in his adorably oversized ears. His thrashing grew so violent so suddenly that Abby could barely keep the boy in her embrace, and he may well have eventually broken free hads she not in that moment flooded his lungs with the gas.
“NO!” Liam tore at his hair as the wailing five-year-old took a great big gulp of the pink vapor, his conscience screaming at him to do something while his paralyzing fear of sharing Will's fate kept his sneakered feet planted firmly to the floor. The sobbing second-grader could do nothing but watch as his little brother began surrendering the little maturity he had left, his adorable features – twisted as they were in terror and anguish – growing increasingly cherubic as a shrinking Will deflated into his jeans and snot-stained polo shirt.
The boy squealed like a frightened piglet at the slaughter as he watched his already infantile features get smaller and smaller: his agile Lego-building, Nerf gun-wielding, six-shooter-slinging fingers becoming useless nubs suitable only for gripping yummy warm bottles of milk or sucking on contentedly in a playpen; his sprightly little legs that were so good at running and jumping and moving dynamically outdoors diminishing into chubby tubes capable only of toddling and tottering between sedated play sessions with blocks or plushies while seated safely atop a padded bum; the nimble chattering tongue he had once wielded to sprout off dinosaur facts and breathlessly list trivia twisting clumsily in his mouth, now primed only to put together bungled, mispronounced, three word sentences – demanding food, throwing a tantrum, or announcing a potty accident.
Even as he retreated further and further into toddlerhood – leaving behind five, and then four, and all the way past three – Abby kept her finger pressed down unyieldingly on the trigger. As the boy’s face began to round into the pudgy adorable vacuity of a two-year-old, a warm wet sensation began to spread through the front of Will’s sagging pants, prompting a new wave of horrified sobbing from the boy. Still Abby refused to let up, seemingly determined to keep the gas flowing until nothing remained of the boy but the benign blank slate of a newborn.
“Mom!” Jane’s voice rang out like cannonball fire, the redheaded woman barging into the office with the energy of a fireman kicking in the door to a burning building. The flow of the gas finally ceased just as Will was teetering on the edge of two, although Abby’s face was still burning with hot red-faced determination. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t try and stop me, Jane.” She exclaimed even as the quiver in her voice revealed that her daughter’s appearance had clearly spooked her. “I have to do this.”
“What about the council?” Jane cried. “You’re already on thin ice after – ”
“I don’t care about the damn council!” Abby interrupted, incensed. “They’ve never cared about what the town needs – what its families need.”
“This isn’t the way, mom.” Jane insisted firmly, finally walking confidently over to her mother and placing a firm hand over the canister still grasped in her hand. “Look, the poor boy’s terrified.”
“I – ” Though Abby went to rebut – her tone still that of a politician hammering her fist to a stump speech on the podium – but her voice broke as her gaze lingered on the tiny two-year-old’s tear-wrecked face, long high-pitched wails fluttering out of his lips between hiccupping breaths like a piercing air raid siren. Her harsh visage dissipated at once, replaced with a soft sympathetic look of deep heart-wrenching sorrow and, perhaps somewhere deep inside, remorse. She unleashed her desperate clasp on the canister, allowing Jane to swiftly pull it away and roll it across the floor to the othver side of the office as if it were a primed explosive.
As if suddenly released from a rage-inducing curse, Abby transformed instantly into the very aspect of motherhood, her entire being suddenly devoted to calming the tantruming toddler in her arms. She cupped one hand over the back of the boy’s wild golden tufts of hair and another over the drooping oversized jeans just beginning to slide off of his body, cuddling him close against her shoulder. “It’s alright, honey. Mommy’s got you.” She comforted, patting him gently on the bottom, although she sounded close to crying herself. Abby looked sorrowfully across to her daughter, her watery eyes just holding back streams of pained hysterical tears. “You don’t understand, Jane.” She insisted. “I had to do it. It doesn’t matter what the council thinks, it doesn’t matter about anyone else, it just matters…it just matters that we’re a family!”
“We’ll sort it out, mom.” Jane insisted, inching forward calmly and slowly as though attempting to separate a raging mama bear from her cub. “It’s going to be okay. Just let me hold Will, alright?”
There was a moment of uneasy suspense before Abby nodded her agreement, unleashing her vice-like grip on the sobbing boy and letting Jane wrap a slender arm around his oversized polo shirt. As she lifted him up to her hip, his jeans came loose completely, leaving just the elastic band of his sopping wet cowboy briefs secured around his waist, a large conspicuous yellow mark staining the mock cow hide pattern below the pistol holster. The boy took in a few more self-soothing sniffling breaths, finally working up the courage to say something as his watery green eyes met his big sister’s gaze.
“I went wee-wee.” He declared, the embarrassing implications of the admission entirely lost on him. All he wanted was for someone to get him out of the icky sticky cotton garment chafing against his pudgy thighs as soon as possible.
“I know, Will.” Jane nodded, gently leaning down to stand the boy up on his bare feet against the cold wooden floorboards. The two-year-old took a few tottering steps before instantly retreating to Jane’s leg, clinging on like a limpet and demanding further comfort. “It’s alright.” Jane assured, gently pushing him away and gesturing desperately towards Liam for assistance. Though the older boy had been watching the whole terrible scene unfold in stunned silence, he instantly followed his sister’s instruction, darting across to room to take up the tiny tot’s impossibly small hand. “Your big brother’s going to get you cleaned up while I talk to mommy, okay?”
“Jane, I...” As much as his big sister needed him to be strong, Liam's composure threatened to fail him every time he so much as glanced at his now-baby brother. With Abby having dismantled their plans in perhaps the most horrible way possible, the second-grader couldn't be certain that Jane was still committed to getting the three of them out of there. Though the young woman looked shaken to her core by what had just happened, there was a distinct tinge of pity to her deeply troubled expression – a hint of sympathy for the woman she called Mom, perhaps enough even to stay in Viridia and help Abby through her breakdown. But while Jane might be willing to accept this new reality Liam very much was not, vehemently shaking his head as he forced begging whimpers through his knotted throat. “...I...I can't do it...I just can't, Jane...please...please don't make me...please...”
“C'mon, champ, it's not that bad. All you have to do is get some wet wipes from the bathroom and give Will a quick scrub.” In an instant it felt to Liam as though his worst fears were confirmed – bad enough that Jane seemed to be going along with the new family dynamic, much worse that she was acting like Abby in making it seem as though the baby boy had never been older than two. The last spark of hope in his heart burned brighter than ever, however, when Jane stole a furtive glance at Abby and then cautiously reached for Cowboy Hank. Seeing that she was paying no attention to the trio – the older woman doing nothing but staring at the wall in wide-eyed silence – Jane handed the figure to Liam while winking at the baffled boy. “And if you don't find any in the bathroom, I think there's some in my car. Got it?”
Were Abby less distracted she might've keened in to the weight Jane put on those last two words, to say nothing of Liam lighting up when he caught on to her meaning. The young woman gestured urgently at the second-grader to keep his cool, pointing him towards the open door as Liam – now looking as serious as an eight-year-old possibly could – nodded firmly and strode out into the hall, quickly finding the fastest speed at which the two-year-old toddling by his side could still keep up. Glad as Liam was that the escape was still on, he couldn't help but wonder how Jane planned on placating their foster mother. The worried boy glanced over his shoulder as he left the room, the last thing he saw being Jane reaching for Abby's bag as she approached the devastated woman from behind.
“Wee-am...?” The second-grader looked down when he heard Will lisp out his name, grimacing at the sight of the toddler clutching the waistband of his underwear in one tiny fist to keep them from slithering down his chubby legs. Doing so slowed his gait to an awkward waddle, however, leaving Will befuddled as to how to maintain his brother's pace while keeping his big-boy briefs from falling off. “I gots icky undies.”
“You sure do, buddy.” Liam comforted the tot in the most reassuring tone he could muster. “Why don't we get them off so you won't get all itchy and yucky?”
“Nooooo...” A whining Will insisted. “Imma cowboy.”
Liam cast about desperately for a solution until he realized that he might already be holding it in hand.
“If I let you hold Hank...” Liam enticed the toddler. “...will you let me take those undies off?”
“HANK!” Will cried, answering his big brother by snatching the toy from him and clutching it to his chest. He began babbling to the cowboy doll as though the concoction of plastic and fabric were a long-lost friend, hardly noticing that his undies had lost their grip on his hips the instant he let them go. Liam let them slide all the way down to the ground before helping the distracted toddler step out of the sodden briefs, leaving them on the floor of the living room before resuming their hasty dash for the front door. Liam burst out onto the porch with Will right behind him, praying that none of their neighbors would catch him leading the half-naked toddler to Jane's car.
Scuttling across the driveway, he flung open the backseat doors, planning to bundle the little boy safely inside away from prying eyes. As he heaved with all his might to lift him over the threshold and secure his bare bum down onto the car seat however, Liam’s brows furrowed in consternation at the realization that the burbling baby boy could hardly be trusted without any pants. As desperately as he wished that it wasn’t the case, he was now charged with the care of a very much pre-potty-trained toddler.
“Stay there, buddy.” He instructed, sprinting around to open the trunk while Will gave an oblivious chirp of agreement – a small pool of drool forming atop the hat of the action figure cuddled against his chest. Liam soon returned with a brightly colored package, efficiently tearing open the top with one hand and drawing his brother’s attention with a playful tickle with the other, displaying all the skill of a veteran babysitter twice his age. “What’s this, Will?” He cooed, managing calming baby talk despite the frantic anxiety he felt increasing with every passing moment Jane was gone. He pulled out a papery blue and white Goodnite from the packet, stretching out the sides of the waistband to display the cool super-hero print enticingly in front of the toddler’s attentive emerald eyes.
“Spidey- Man!” Will yelped, dropping his toy into his lap and grasping greedily at the elastic fabric of the quasi-diaper.
“Nuh-uh.” Liam scolded lightly, a relentless cheery tone disguising the heart-rending despair he felt to see his brother reduced to such infantile behavior. He parried away the boy’s interfering fingers, instead seizing up his tiny wriggling feet and beginning to thread them into the leg holes of the pull-up. “These go on your bum, see?”
Will let out a satisfied giggle, watching with glassy-eyed amusement as his brother shuffled the material up his legs and secured the garment around his waist. Designed for much bigger kids, the absorbent material was very baggy around the toddler’s chubby thighs – but they would have to do for containing any immediate potty mishaps. “I got Spidey Man!” the boy announced proudly, making the babyish underwear crinkle as he jumped up and down excitedly in his seat.
“Mm-hmm.” A distracted Liam agreed, letting out a perturbed sigh as he clamped together the boy’s car seat straps. He slammed the door, skirting hurriedly around the car to take his own seat on the opposite side – peeping up nervously over the seats to stare at the front door still hanging ajar, hoping and praying for Jane’s swift return. As the precious seconds passed however, still no one came.
“Wee-am!” A sugary sweet voice demanded. Liam looked over briefly towards his baby brother, trying to force a smile again.
“What?”
“Wanna wead!” Will exclaimed. He had gathered up both of his magazines in his tight fists, scrunching up the glossy covers with impatient frustration.
“Not now, Will.” Liam dismissed out of hand, immediately going back to staring aimlessly at the front door. Will was not so easily fobbed off however, letting out an unhappy piercing moan to demand his brother’s attention again.
“Wee-am!” Hhe insisted, pulling and rattling furiously against his restraints. “Wanna wead, wanna wead!”
“Okay! Jeez!” Liam finally relented with a growl, taking a deep stabilizing breath as the toddler went silent at once – a happy sweet smile returning to his face. Though Will’s tantrum was grating enough in its own right, given the circumstances it took every bit of the bigger boy’s determination to not let the demanding, high-pitched whines drive him over the edge. “What do you want me to read?”
“Twac-tuhs!” Will insisted, pointing excitedly to the cartoonish image on the cover of his copy of High Five.
“Okay then…” Liam nodded, shuffling over to the middle seat and opening up the magazine on the center spread. “Tractors are special vehicles that farmers use…”
Although the simple article was much too immature for the older boy, Liam felt his distraught voice steady itself as he read methodically through the brightly decorated pages – occasionally pausing to let Will look over the different pictures with big, fascinated eyes. Although uninterested in the contents of the magazine itself, Liam found comfort in the unbothered, innocent demeanor of the little boy beside him. Despite all their troubles, the two-year-old was completely content in the present moment, hanging on his brother’s every word. The activity was almost meditative, Liam half-forgetting all of his tummy-twisting stress – until his ears pricked up at the sound of footsteps approaching.
Liam froze with the magazine clenched in his trembling hands, too terrified by the uncertainty of who owned those heavy steps to look up and find out for himself. Though the boy nearly fainted in relief when he saw Jane coming down the walk, the way she barreled towards the car – red-faced and panting as she lugged along as many folders as she could carry – reminded Liam of the urgency of the moment. He scrambled into the front of the car and threw its passenger door open, scurrying back to Will's side as Jane dumped the avalanche of paperwork into the unoccupied seat. Though she seemed physically fine – and the same age she'd been when she entered the house – Jane was too preoccupied to even look at either of her brothers as she slammed the door shut and hurried around the front of the car. Just the same, Will was so excited by the glance he'd gotten of his big sister that she was suddenly all he cared about, impatiently slapping his fat little hands against the tray attached to his seat until he got another chance to speak to her.
“Jane!” Will cried as he wiggled with wild glee, beside himself with happiness when he met her eyes in the rear view mirror – eyes whose hard worry he was blissfully ignorant to. “I wead twac-tuhs! Wead twac-tuhs wif Wee-am!”
“That's wonderful, Will! You're getting so good with your words!” Jane praised, managing a smile for the bubbling baby boy even in the midst of her deepest distress. Her sunny disposition darkened when she looked at Liam, however, voice soft but insistent as she reached for her seatbelt and turned on the engine. “Liam, please make sure Will's nice and tight in his seat before you get into yours.”
“Are you all right?” Liam asked as he followed his big sister's instructions, shaking little fingers fumbling with the straps and buckles. “What happened to Abby?”
“Mom – Abby will be fine.” Jane muttered as she pulled out into the street. “I don't know how long we have until she comes around, though, so we've got to be as far away from here as possible before then.”
Liam's heart pounded painfully against his skinny chest as he stared with wide, disbelieving eyes at the familiar scenery flashing by, dimly realizing that this might be his last time going down these streets – his last time seeing the sun dance between the mighty firs and redwoods that circled Viridia like a shroud. Though a whining Will tugged insistently at his numb big brother, Liam was able to tear his eyes away only once Jane turned onto the state route – and even then, it was so he could turn and watch through the rear window as the town, now nothing but blocks of color in the distance, was swallowed by the calm green infinitye that surrounded his home.
“Weeeeeee-aaaaaaaammm...” Tired of being ignored, Will turned big brother's name into a high-pitched cry that he drew out until Liam finally looked his way. “Wan' mowe twac-tuhs pwease!”
“...all right, baby bear.” The smile Liam forced turned genuine when the pet name made his little brother burble in open-mouthed glee. He stretched as much towards Will as his seat would allow, holding the magazine up for the two-year-old so he could best see the glossy, highly-detailed photos of the massive earth-moving machines. “Let's see, where were we...”
Jane was silent as she guided her sedan through the rolling foothills that stood between them and the highway. They'd have to stop soon if only so she could be certain of where exactly they were going, their destination hidden within the folder which topped the massive stack she'd stolen from Abby's home. For now, though, the young woman was content to let the empty roads calm her nerves, spirits lifted by the adorable exchange occurring in the backseat. When Liam had resumed reading it had been in a distracted monotone, a low, empty voice that grew warmer and more playful with every delighted cry from the fascinated toddler. The bigger boy got so into his performance that he hardly noticed when Will's energy finally began to flag, bright emerald eyes drooping as he sleepily slipped a stubby thumb between his lips.
***
Later, much later, the car trundled to a stop at a small empty gas station at the side of the road. Only an electric yellow light flickering out from the murky windows of the kiosk and the solitary white moon above pierced through the inky blackness of the lonely Cascadian night, both boys sleeping peacefully in their car seats.
Will stirred groggily into semi-consciousness at the sound of the front door slamming. Fluttering his downy blond eyelashes, his emerald eyes struggled against the invasive artificial light illuminating his cherubic features, and he quickly surrendered to exhaustion once more. A few conspicuous crinkles sounded from his now slightly soggy Goodnite as he reclined back contentedly in the reassuring purchase of his car seat harness, letting out a soft, kitten-like sigh as he closed his eyes again. He let his mind wander into blissful half-dreams, nursing on his thumb with a satisfied smile on his face and thinking about jolly farmers, big rumbling tractors, and fluffy farm animals.
“Jane?” He heard his brother say, the rustle of fabric and the mechanical creak of a door unlocking adding to the hazy ensemble of sound murmuring nearby “Where are we?”
“Shhh, honey.” Jane said gently. “You don’t want to wake Will.”
The serene toddler gave a silent satisfied squeak at the sound of his name but was much too exhausted to rouse himself any further from his dreamy half-awake trance. Instead, he continued to simply suck steadily on his thumb, listening to the calming sound of his siblings’ voices’ drifting through the air in their familiar intoxicating rhythm. “Sorry.” Liam hissed, dropping his tone into a husky whisper. “He’s out like a light, though.”
“He sure is cute when he’s sleeping.” Jane agreed, although her tone carried more than a hint of wistful melancholy.
“Yeah. But I think we need to pick up some proper diapers…”
There were a few beats of peaceful silence, the only sound being the low hoot of an owl somewhere deep in the forest and the insistent hum of a nearby generator. Will almost slipped back completely into happy dreams, before his sister’s voice drew his attention once more.
“Liam…” she began with momentous gravity. “There’s no way to make you boys older again, but…you don’t have to forget. I promised Will I would try and help him keep a hold on his old life, but with everything that happened…” she trailed off, letting the silence hang for a few more moments as the pair lingered uncomfortably on the horrible subject. “It won’t be easy, but if we both work hard at it, and if we try every day, I think I might be able to help you do the same.”
“No.” Liam rebutted almost at once, his voice a whisper but his tone certain and true. “Viridia was my home, just like you, but what happened there…what happened to Will…I don’t want to remember it. I just want us to be happy, like a real family.”
Will finally managed to raise his heavy eyelids, looking drowsily through the car window to see the shady outline of his older brother’s head nestled against Jane’s chest in a long warm embrace.
“Then let’s get on that.” She finally announced. As the doors slammed shut again and the car started up, Will finally surrendered to unconsciousness – dreaming about Jane, and Liam, and an uncertain far way image of his real mommy, all cuddled up together in one big long everlasting hug.
