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“He didn’t really want to kill us, Mom, did he?” I sniffled, staring up at my mother. “But when you were dragons, he almost did! I just don’t know...”
Mom sat down on the bed where I lay sobbing. She said nothing about Allen’s fiery last actions. They were acts of a desperate man, and as awful as they seemed, I understood why he’d committed them. He couldn’t stop fighting; he clung to a life he felt he deserved – to the very end.
And that battling spirit had been passed on for generations.
“How could you steal his memories? Why would you take that all away from him?”
“I didn't wipe the memories away completely,” Mom said softly. “I fogged them up, so they're more like a dream.” She examined most of me, picking up my arm and looking closely at the skin. Of course, there was no sign of any wounds.
Apparently satisfied that she’d healed me well enough, she gently placed my hand back on the sheets. “Did he hurt you?”
I pondered her question, reliving the experience once more. “It hurt when he touched my skin, and he must have been burning me because I smelled it,” I paused, the green flames bright in my mind, “but after that, it only felt warm.” I scratched my head, intrigued. “He stopped...hurting me.”
“Hmm,” Mom replied, her lack of response bearing much more weight than any words could.
“He didn’t hurt you either?” I asked.
“He tried,” she said. “But I believe you’re right. Despite what he’d said, I don’t think he originally set out to murder his own family. He was trying to survive, and he was desperate. I don’t know. We’ll never know for sure.”
And that uncertainty, plus the infuriating amalgam of love and hatred for Allen, threatened to tear me up inside. My mind went back to being a bird tied to a perch, yet within seconds, my thoughts shifted to a beaming Allen. I swirled in his arms, dancing through the night...
“I can’t stand the way I feel about him!” I blurted out, drawing my knees to my chest.
Mom tapped my shoulder, nodding. “I know. I feel the emotions pouring from you. You still care for him, and I know it’s frustrating. Maybe it’ll help if you keep in mind that he almost did away with your mother and grandfather.”
Ashamed, I stretched my legs back out and turned from her. I didn’t want to burden my mother with all my stupid teenage hormonal overreactions. At the same time, she’d been dealing with everyone’s feelings for years and I never knew.
Slowly, I twisted back to face her. “But still, why would you take his memories?” I repeated. “Maybe he’d be a nicer person if he kept them.”
“Corinne, we couldn't let Aldous have memories of the future.”
“What harm would it have done?”
Exasperated, she responded, “Look, I don't know what kind of effect it would have had if he remembered everything completely. He has knowledge that he didn't have originally – and resentment for what we did to him. That could change history in very unpredictable ways.”
“How?”
Mom raised her voice angrily. “I don't know. Maybe he would search the globe for a time traveler to bring him back here to get his revenge on us! Maybe he would kill his siblings to make sure we were never born...”
“You just said he probably didn’t want to kill us–”
She stood up abruptly and stalked away.
I was so surprised at her behavior that I remained in my bed for several minutes.
Soon after, Dad poked his head in the door. “Welcome back!” he smiled, embracing me. “Mom said you did well, and Aldous is back where he belongs.”
I just looked away.
I think he saw that I didn’t want to talk about our “victory” any further. “Everyone's here. Come on down.”
“Dad,” I queried, “why's Mom so mad? She just...”
“You hit close to home, Corinne. Remember the rescue we mentioned who was mad at us? After Patricia brought him back to where he belonged, he waited through the decades to get his revenge. And he did quite a job of it.”
“Oh,” I gulped. “I didn't mean anything by it.”
“I know, I know.” He prodded at me. “How about you just come downstairs and join the family?”
I followed him, a bit nervous to encounter my mother again. As we neared the bottom of the steps, I hesitated. “Dad?”
He stopped, glancing back at me. “What?”
“Is Mom fireproof?”
He blinked at me for a moment and then continued on his way. “She’s a changer, Corinne,” he called over his shoulder. “She’s everything.”
***
AS I CROSSED THE HALLWAY, something ached inside of me. It wasn't just that I had lost Allen. The added knowledge that Mom had nearly wiped me from his memory was particularly upsetting. I was the only one who remembered our adventures in detail. To Allen, I existed merely in his dreams.
And now, he’d been dead for centuries.
We all sat around the living room. Grandpa Brian brought Grandma Felicia over to discuss what had transpired. He spoke proudly of how I'd acted, and I reddened in embarrassment.
But having everyone around gave me another chance to think. Again, why hadn't I mentioned Allen to my parents? He had asked me not to, but I could have told them everything else about him other than the fact that he could transform. From the beginning, maybe there was just something too strange about him for me to understand, let alone to tell my parents about. It seemed like confusion and secrecy had flowed both ways between my family and me.
“Ah, if we just had Ron and Robin here, it would be like old times,” Grandma Felicia opined, stirring me from my thoughts.
Old times. Just the tone of Grandma Felicia's voice made me yearn to experience the long-ago events that I had never witnessed. But maybe I could peer in at them, now that I could time travel.
“I'm so thrilled that Corinne inherited changer abilities,” Grandpa Brian continued. “I think your grandmother would enjoy it if you change for her, Corinne.”
Grandma Felicia clapped her hands together excitedly, eyes bright. “Oh, please! I'd love it!”
Why did I feel like a circus act? “Maybe later,” I uttered.
“Do it!” Daniel begged. “But I get to choose what she becomes!” he added in a mischievous voice. “Be a backpack, Corinne!”
“Shut up, Daniel,” I shot back.
Grandma Felicia kept on. “Oh, Corinne, please? You know, the first thing your mother became for me was a cut flower. She turned into a pretty rose, and I put her in a vase of water.”
Her comment struck me as so weird that my mouth fell open a bit. Yet she seemed so elated that I refrained from making any comments. I couldn’t really think of one to make, anyway.
My mother blushed. “Daniel, Mom, leave her alone.” She brought over more hot water for tea and refilled Grandma Felicia's cup. I was glad Mom was defending me now instead of yelling at me.
“Thanks, Patricia.” My grandmother gave me her “I'll-get-back-to-this-with-you-later” look and I cringed.
I hated the way everyone was just sitting around, calmly drinking tea. So much more needed to be said! We had almost died! History could have been rewritten!
“I'm sorry you were a cow, Mom,” I blurted out. “I feel so awful that Allen did that to you.”
She chuckled. “You think that it's the first time?”
Really? Just...really? “Oh, God, you've been a cow before? Why?”
She sat down beside me, a gentle smile on her face. “Corinne, your grandfather's right. You're the same way I was in the beginning. The whole idea of transforming seemed so freakish to me. I didn't want to do it. I thought it was scary and I was afraid I would die. My dad had to push me to do it.”
“I turned her into a cat,” Grandpa Brian contributed, taking a swig of his tea.
“Yes. And he made me change myself back.”
“But still, a cow, Mom? That's just...demeaning.”
Mom poured some water for herself and selected a tea bag from the bowl on the table. She gestured knowingly at Grandpa Brian, who responded, “She'll learn.”
As the conversation turned to other topics, I was so tired that I started tuning out. My eyes were closing of their own accord, but Grandma Felicia pulled me right back in.
“What made him go after you, Corinne? How did he manage to work his way into your school?”
“He suspected I was special,” I replied in a monotone. “He had a feeling I was a changer.” I yawned so deeply that it hurt my mouth.
“He was watching you and Matthew,” Daniel contributed. “When we'd change, he'd often check you guys out. I wanted him to change you, but we couldn't let you know his secret.”
“But how did he get any paperwork? What kind of security did the school have?” my grandmother asked.
“He said Mom and Dad know someone who forges documents. Maybe he helped them,” I replied.
My parents blinked at each other. Mom seemed to search her thoughts. “Max and Craig didn't do anything for him, did they, Julian?”
Dad shook his head. “Not that I know of.”
“He's a changer,” said Grandpa Brian. “He probably created most things he needed by himself. Then he pulled a few strings and he got into the school to romance you, Corinne.”
“Did he succeed?” Daniel inquired, eyebrows raised.
I swatted at him. “Shut up! He's like our own relative!” Everyone was quiet. I think they all realized I had feelings for Allen. Luckily, Mom didn’t say anything on that issue.
“I do think he liked you, Corinne,” Daniel stated, now quite serious. “I think he was torn because he wasn't sure if it was appropriate to be in love with someone who might be his great-great-whatever-great grand-daughter.”
I could feel my cheeks growing redder as he spoke.
“And he was a bit off on the schooling explanation,” Grandma Felicia pointed out. “If you're in your first year of college, you're not usually interning in schools. I'd love to know what your principal thought Allen was doing in the school, but we'd better not open up that hornet's nest.”
Even if Grandma Felicia was right, and she usually was, Allen had never discussed his studies. He had definitely improved his English – when I'd first met him, his speech patterns had seemed slightly archaic or foreign. But in my time as a bird, I had never seen him do any actual college coursework.
“He really did want to teach! He wanted to be a principal or teacher!” Yet I had my doubts. First and foremost, Allen was out for himself. He probably wanted to get friendly with me to see if I could help him at some point. I was an easy target compared to Matthew.
“Has he changed anyone else?” Dad piped up.
“I didn't sense anyone when I was flying around, but...” Mom looked up worriedly at Grandpa Brian, who shook his head.
I answered my father’s question. “He said he didn't. He said 'only people who get in my way'. That was just Owen, I think.”
“Honestly, Owen Ritborn was serving the environment better as a log. He's more nature-friendly that way,” Dad commented with a twinkle in his eye.
A low chortle rolled over the room. Things were okay again.
I studied my family around me and noticed that if I scrunched my eyes up just the right way, I could see that both of my grandparents were surrounded by a very slight aura.
Mom caught my gaze. “You see it, don't you?”
“They have auras,” I breathed.
“How do you think eighty and ninety-year-olds look so great?” Grandma Felicia gave a hearty laugh.
“Uh-huh,” I responded, recalling how Allen had had a slight aura too. He'd been fooling me from the very beginning.