Aliens in Twinbrook: A Strangers in a Sim Land story

[MarianT]

PROLOGUE

     In a flying saucer, hovering somewhere above the Simosphere, three young women prepared to land.
     "Are you sure this is a good idea, Cerise? All the people down there appear beige or brown. I'm afraid we'll look very odd." This question came from Azura Bellew, a lovely anthropologist with blue skin, lavender hair, and eyes of deep purple.
     "I read several reports that confirmed there were beings on the planet of many colors, and some of them even change with their emotions." Cerise Rouge was the bookworm in the group, and their historian.
     "Cerise, those were squid and octopi," said Ivy Verd, the biologist. "They live at the bottom of the ocean, and members of the dominant species -- whom we're trying to fit in with -- eat them."
     "We're toast," Azura moaned.
     "No, we just have to come up with good cover stories," said Cerise. "You're the most unusual-looking, so you should become a rock star. I've been watching videos, and believe me, some of them would raise eyebrows back home. Ivy, these people have a legend of green children being the offspring of men who looked through telescopes."
      "You're kidding."
      "No. Your father was temporarily abducted by aliens and returned to earth pregnant."
      "Shouldn't I just tell them I'm the tragic result of a chemical explosion?"
      "No, because that's my story," said Cerise. "My skin turned bright red and my hair was singed a dark violet."
      "They'll never buy it," Azura complained. "Won't they think it a little suspicious that three girls who just happen not to be beige or brown all live on the same piece of land?"
      "Actually, we're going to be living separately," said Ivy.
      "And in houses," added Cerise.
      "Those boxy things that keep out the air and the light?"
      "It's what they do," said Cerise. "They'll think we're very strange if we don't have kitchens and bathrooms and family rooms."
      "Why can't we just tell them the truth?"
      "That we've come to mingle our DNA with theirs to produce future generations who live in peace and harmony?" said Ivy. "I think they would find that very upsetting."
      "Time to beam down," said Cerise.
      "But wait!" said Azura. "When will we three meet again?"
      "Never," said Cerise. "Remember -- you want to be a rock star. Ivy, you're going to the Science lab, and I'm headed for a career in Journalism. I might end up interviewing you, but otherwise we stay separate. You'll call me on the communicator device and report your progress."

Cerise Rouge




Ivy Verd




Azura Bellew

[MarianT]

WEEK ONE



     Ivy looked around the dive bar. She wasn't sure it had been a good idea to come here. The best thing that could be said for Waylon's was that the green light made everyone look green, so she didn't feel out of place. But she didn't really want to meet any of the guys who had just come in.
     "Hiya, sweetheart!" one of them boomed. "Bill Racket's my name, any racket's my game. Care for a round of shuffleboard? With a little on the side to make it interesting?"
     "No, thank you," Ivy said politely. The orientation video had stressed politeness, claiming that a smile and a handshake would go a long way in calming the residents of Twinbrook. Ivy was quite sure that shaking hands with Bill Racket would not have a calming effect upon her.
     "How do you do?" said another man, dressed in white, which in the light appeared a pale green. "I'm Goodwin Goode. Would you like to dance?"
     Ivy agreed -- anything to get away from the Rackets -- Bill was apparently one of a tribe. Goodwin turned out to be as clumsy a dancer as she was, a fact she found reassuring.
     When the music stopped, another shady-looking character came up and claimed Goodwin's attention. "My, um, housemate, Sinbad Rotter," Goodwin introduced him.
     "Pleased to meet you," Ivy said, shaking hands, while her heart sank. Something told her that she and Goodwin would not be compatible after all.

     As soon as she got home, Ivy planted the seeds she had received from her gardening class. There were other seeds scattered around Twinbrook, according to the orientation video. Some of them had quite unusual properties. Ivy wished she could have brought the video with her, but Cerise had vetoed the notion. "What if someone comes for a visit and pops it into the television? Besides, you're not going to be able to afford a television for a while."
     At work the next day, Ivy tried to meet people, but most of the time she sat in a room filling out forms that gave permission to the scientists to test her response to various products. Ivy hoped that her results wouldn't be too strange, and that no drugs or other substances would be approved based on how she reacted. She had no idea whether her body would react to something the way a normal Sim's would. It was all well and good for Cerise to say that they were all packets of energy with only minor differences. Ivy knew the minor differences could result in pretty serious conditions.
     However, being a test subject gave her a pretty good answer if someone inquired as to why her hair and skin were green. "Well, I was a test subject," she would say.
     Just then a young man in a white lab coat walked through the room. He was actually not bad-looking.
     "Who was that?" she asked the lab tech who had given her the forms.
     "Lincoln Baker," said the young woman. "But don't waste your time, honey. The rumor is he's got commitment issues. By the way, where did you go to get your hair done? It looks cool."
     "It was in another town," said Ivy. Obviously, the "test subject" story wouldn't work with this one -- she would know that Ivy hadn't even been injected with anything yet. Ivy was going to ask her what she meant by "commitment issues," but an older man in a lab coat called her name and escorted her into a room of green linoleum and gray cinder block.  He told her to count backwards from 10 -- not an easy task when you were not a native speaker of Simlish. After three, her mind was a total blank. The next thing she knew she was being paid for the day and told to return tomorrow.

[Natsuko]

I'm enjoying this story alot, you have a good writing style.
Looking forward to more!

[MarianT]

     Cerise Rouge still had twinges of paranoia, but she was beginning to settle down. She should have realized that Ivy and Azura would be just as attracted to the marshy, misty areas of Twinbrook as she was -- it was so much like home. But apparently no one in Twinbrook thought it strange that three different-looking women should have suddenly moved into the area. "And besides, it is the low-rent district," she reminded herself for about the thousandth time. Nevertheless, she would have to encourage Ivy and Azura -- and herself -- to move as soon as they could afford to. But she knew they would resist. It was just so comforting to hear water lapping against the pilings as you fell asleep, and to know that you could catch a fish from your deck. Cerise loved her new place and was tempted to move the bed outside, even though that was strictly forbidden. And if she did it, the others would want to as well. They didn't realize how important it was to be careful.
     Like the other day -- Ivy had come right up to her on the street and introduced herself. Cerise had to admit she had done a pretty good acting job for someone whose areas of expertise were plants and fish. And she'd had the sense not to linger, moving away quickly to talk to some fellow in a lab coat, probably someone she had met at work.
     He'd been pretty good-looking, but Cerise already had her eye on someone, the slender Wei Keane. They had met outside the bookstore, when she was dressed in her papergirl outfit. (Riding herd on a bunch of nine-year-olds was her current job, and she couldn't wait to get promoted.) They had met again at Waylon's Haunt, but he'd been a bit snooty then. She'd had to inflate her accomplishments as a writer and journalist before he'd been willing to talk to her. And just as the conversation was starting to get interesting, he and she had both begun yawning, too sleepy to think of anything other than bed -- alone. The only thing she'd succeeded at was getting his phone number.
     Last night she'd worked late, helping to get the paper out, so today she was hoping for a promotion. Her main competition was Sofia Carlton, a socialite who was just moonlighting. She wore sunglasses, which were hardly necessary, considering the fogs of Twinbrook. Cerise had considered getting sunglasses herself to hide her silver eyes, but had settled for regular glasses with purple frames.



     When she arrived at work, all the buzz was about this blue-skinned piano player who'd been seen in the park. Des Eyre, the newspaper's paparazzi, had got a picture of her chatting with the elusive (and exclusive) Phoenix Prudence, and he was badgering the editor to run a story. "I'm not giving free publicity to some chick just because she paints herself blue," the editor was saying. "What are you -- her publicity agent?"
     Cerise breathed a sigh of relief. The longer they could live in Twinbrook without attracting attention, the better their chances were of pulling off their "invasion." Azura probably would get into the paper -- and on television -- eventually, but by that time she and Ivy would both be established in their careers.

    "Azura! Azura! AZURA!" The crowd roared for her, while Azura waited in the wings, letting its energy fill her until the right moment when she would float into their midst...
    And then she woke up. To a hard bed in a dingy room with paint peeling off the windowsill.
     The first thing she was going to buy when she had some money was a new bed. No, the first thing was going to be a guitar. No, some new clothes. No, get a decent shower. No -- well, the list was endless. Azura had thought she could start getting tips in the park immediately, but apparently you had to get a license first. And although she'd been a brilliant musician back home, Twinbrook wasn't quite ready for etudes composed on a different planet. And, to be honest, Azura hadn't quite got the hang of the twelve-tone scale yet. Everything on the keyboard sounded odd to her, which made her playing uncertain. She knew uncertainty was death -- it was better to be wrong with panache rather than timidly right.
     Which was why -- even though it would pay for a new bed -- she couldn't get rid of the big, gas-guzzling car that had appeared outside her house. Was it a gift from a secret admirer? She'd coaxed one of the guys in the band into painting it pink for her -- hot pink, her favorite color -- and she loved it too much to part with it.

[MarianT]

WEEK TWO

     Ivy shuddered when she got up. The last thing she'd expected to find when she came home from work last night was the old guy from the bar sitting on her doorstep. His name was Max, incidentally. Bill was his son. He had followed her inside and talked to her for a few minutes. Something about him had really creeped her out, plus she was exhausted from the last substance she'd been injected with. So she had asked him to leave, not very politely. He'd grinned at her, and that was when she'd noticed his incisors -- weren't they a little longer than his other teeth? As she'd closed the door behind him, she'd started shaking. She would have to tell Cerise that they were here in this world too, the descendants of Vlad the Impaler, the Undead, the vampires.
     In the cold gray light of early morning, Ivy wondered whether perhaps her imagination was working overtime. True, Max Racket was a creepy old man, but was he really a vampire? And she had no idea whether the stuff she'd been given at the lab had hallucinatory properties. Probably Cerise would tell her not to worry and complain that she was over-reacting. Ivy picked up her phone and put it down, then picked it up again. She really wanted to be told she was over-reacting, to be reminded that this particular corner of the universe had been declared vampire-free by the explorers.
     The message on the phone said that Cerise wouldn't be available for another six hours. She was at work.
     Ivy looked at the clock. The carpool would arrive in fifteen minutes -- barely enough time to take a quick shower. In the shower she recollected that there was a plant that vampires couldn't stand -- garlic. Did it grow here? She would have to look around and see if she could find some.

     At work, Ivy was very busy for a while, and then she started chatting with Lincoln Baker. Flirting with him, actually. He agreed to meet her at the beach after work -- not to go swimming because apparently the waters of Twinbrook still contained some interesting chemicals, but just to talk. And then, just before she left work, Ivy was told she'd been promoted to Lab Technician. By the time she returned home, she'd forgotten completely her intention to call Cerise.
     As for the date with Lincoln, well...They began with flirting and moved to kissing, then kissing and hugging and making out. Then Ivy mumbled something about the future, and Lincoln backed away like she had leprosy or something. She tried to give him a reassuring hug, but he turned and ran like a scared rabbit. Was that what the other lab tech, Shyla, had meant by "commitment issues?"
     Ivy was hungry, and the Box-Car Diner was not far away. She hopped on her bicycle (so much better for Twinbrook's ravaged environment than an automobile) and pedaled over there. When she finished eating, a repentant Lincoln was waiting outside.
     He had commitment issues, he explained, but he really did care about her. Could she find it in her heart to forgive him?
     Ivy considered him for a minute. Someone who wanted to marry her would definitely be preferable, but there wasn't anyone around in that category, and her task here was to have children. Lincoln looked like he was quite willing to participate in that activity. She told him about Max Racket appearing on her doorstep and asked if he'd be willing to give her a ride home. He agreed, and agreed also when she asked him to spend the night.
     By the time Ivy left for work the next day, she knew she was pregnant.

     Cerise was working on a science fiction novel, From Far Away. It was a description of their trip from home -- not a very exciting story, unfortunately, because the only thing you could do on a spaceship was read and meditate and exercise and watch videos about the place you were going to that were ten years out of date. Nothing seemed very exciting at the moment. She had been promoted to Automated Spell Checker Spell Checker, which meant she had to glance over everything written and make sure the ASC hadn't translated it all into Finnish or something.
     At that moment a story came in over the wire (actually it was the Internet, but at the paper they still called it the wire). Someone claimed to have been bitten by a vampire. Cerise immediately had a hollow feeling at the pit of her stomach. The explorers had sworn that there were no vampires in the world -- legends of vampires, novels about vampires, movies of vampires, television shows -- but no actual vampires. So maybe this was just a delusion on someone's part. Or maybe a virus or something had traveled in the spaceship with them, even though they'd gone through a dozen purifying rituals.
     Just then the phone rang. It was Wei Keane, who did seem to be way keen on seeing her after work. She agreed, and then just before she left work, she got a call from DeAndre Carlton inviting her to his party.
     Cerise only had a few hours with Wei, but they managed to agree they were in a relationship. Then it was time to leave for the party.
     She wasn't too surprised to see Azura there. DeAndre was in the music business, after all, and so was Azura. Azura chatted with her, but it was the sort of talk you had at a party. What do you do? Who do you know? Are you someone I should bother to impress? Azura wandered off to another room, just as Cerise felt an upheaval in her midsection. Should she tell Wei he was about to become a father before or after they decided to get married?

     Azura stepped out of the way as Cerise rushed past her to the bathroom. She knew instantly what the problem was.  "Way to go, Cerise," she thought, even though she'd been a little interested in Wei Keane herself. But there were plenty of other fish in Twinbrook's streams, and she was after one right now -- legendary lead guitarist, DeAndre Carlton. Despite being married, he and Sofia were still living in separate houses -- living very well, in fact. Azura wouldn't mind moving right in. Unfortunately, it was late. After a little flirting in the kitchen, DeAndre gave a big yawn and told her to run along home -- they both had work tomorrow. She didn't even get a chance to kiss him, and Azura knew that her kisses were out of this world.
     Oh well. There was always Tim. He might be a bit chunky, but at least he wasn't neurotic -- or married already. And now that she'd been promoted to roadie, he was always ready to help with heavy lifting. He wasn't as sexy as a rock star, but he was solid, the kind of guy who might be willing to look after a couple of blue babies while she played a concert. She would give him a call the next day and see if their friendship could evolve into something more.

[MarianT]

WEEK THREE

     It must have been something she had ingested during her time as a test subject. That was the only way Ivy could explain little Carla's very rapid growth from infant to toddler to child. She hadn't even had time to teach her how to walk. And there was something not quite...trustworthy about her. Like she might take anything that wasn't nailed down. Probably she had inherited it from her father. Lincoln was still not ready to enter into a relationship, even though he would soon be the father of two children.



     Well, if this baby had green skin, Lincoln wouldn't be strutting anymore. At least, not on her account. Ivy was getting tired of trying to get him to consider her situation. Sure, he wanted to flirt and kiss, but having a serious discussion was beyond him. If she didn't have to work with him, Ivy would tell him exactly what she thought. Anyway, she wasn't going to try to coax him into marriage. She didn't have the energy for sweet-talking, and she had enough sense to realize that nagging wouldn't work at all. The way she felt now, if he did agree to a wedding, she'd probably jam the ring on his finger.
     Ivy really hoped this next baby would turn out green. Carla was a darling, and really a very talented little artist, but she looked just like her father -- brown hair, blue eyes, brown skin. Ir this second baby didn't carry the green gene, she would probably have to find another partner. The problem was she didn't know anyone except the people at work. Her boss, Marshall, was too grumpy to be worth romancing, and everyone else was a woman. And with two children at home, she wasn't about to go looking for love at Waylon's.
     On the plus side, she hadn't seen Max Racket in a while.

     Cerise thought that she and Wei Keane had enjoyed a very pleasant, private wedding. The wonder was that no paparazzi had appeared to disturb them. Considering that she was now a 3-star celebrity, and Wei a 1-star, that was a little surprising.



     She was beginning to find the paparazzi rather annoying. She liked to let Myron play out on the deck because he enjoyed being outside so much, but when she went outside to pick him up, a flashbulb went off in her face. She couldn't yell at them and tell them to go away because they'd get back at you. And in her case, especially, they'd call her a hypocrite because she was in journalism herself. So she put up with it. And, as her publicist reminded her, the picture of her teaching Myron how to talk could only be considered golden. "If I lined up a photo-op of you and the kid, they wouldn't touch it," he'd said, "but since they took the pix themselves, they think it's newsworthy. Go figure."



     The wedding had been wonderful, but Cerise didn't know how the marriage was going. Wei spent all his free time on the computer. At first she'd nagged him into eating with her, but now she just put the leftovers in the fridge for him to grab when he was finished with his "stress-relieving" game or the work he'd brought home from the office. One minor annoyance was that even though he had his own laptop, which was nicer than her desktop, he kept using her computer. This meant that even when she had five minutes to work on her novel, she couldn't, because he was playing his game.
     They'd had words about this earlier in the day, and he'd gone off to the park, leaving her with Myron and the baby.
     The baby was named Hope, and she had bright red skin just like Cerise. She was happy about that because it meant she could quit producing children and go back to work. Right now she'd settle for just going across the street -- Cerise felt like she hadn't been anywhere in ages.
     "Do you think you could stay with the kids for a while tomorrow?" she'd asked Wei, when he came home at about nine o'clock Saturday night.
     "Yeah, sure," he'd said, heading into the bathroom.
     Cerise wanted to ask where he'd been, but she bit her tongue. If he'd been whooping it up in a bar with some floozy, the paparazzi would probably report it. Otherwise, she wasn't going to get upset. Just then she realized that Myron had lasted for three hours without going potty. She scooped him up and hurried into the bathroom.
     "Now, Azura," Wei was saying to his cell phone. He gave Cerise a shocked look and hurried out.
     Cerise set Myron on the pot gently. She didn't want to take her anger out on the boy, but she was fuming. She wasn't angry with Wei -- well, not much anyway -- but with Azura. She thought they'd had an agreement, that Azura would leave Wei alone and marry Tim Burre. Cerise was sure she'd seen the wedding reported in the newspaper; Azura was a celebrity, too.
     Wei was hunched over the computer, typing furiously on the keyboard when Cerise came out. He was working, rather than playing one of his games -- work, to Wei, was sacrosanct, so Cerise didn't try to interrupt him. She put Myron in his crib, then fed and snuggled Hope. After that, she went out on the deck, which for once was free of paparazzi.
     "You promised to leave him alone!" she hissed when Azura picked up the phone.
     "Look, all I did was say hello when I saw him sitting in the park," said Azura.
     "Yeah, well how come you were talking to him on the phone?"
     "He called me," said Azura. "He wanted to know the name of the tune I was playing on the guitar."
     Cerise punched the off button. Now she was mad at Wei, because obviously there had been more to his call than a simple request for information or he wouldn't have made it from the bathroom.
     Wei was eating some salad when she came in, and she noticed that there was smoke coming from the computer. "Did you call a repairman?" she asked.
     "No, it's your name on the warranty," he said. "Besides, I'm bushed and it's late." He got up and began washing his plate.
     Cerise counted to ten. She'd talked to him a couple of days ago about what a help it would be to her if he could clean up after he finished eating. If she started yelling at him now, it would undo the work she'd done. She sat down at the computer and turned it around to see what was wrong. Big mistake -- she got a severe electric shock. She'd forgotten how dangerous primitive technology could be. She sighed and called the repairman. She hoped it would be someone ruggedly handsome, but it turned out to be a middle-aged woman. Cerise crawled into bed, too exhausted to do anything more than leave the payment on the kitchen table.


    

[TheChronicR]

This is such a fascinating story, Marian. Great job so far - I adore your writing style. Looking forward to reading more!

[Natsuko]

Sorry I haven't posted in a while on this wonderful story!
Like Chronic said, you have a fascinating writing style!
Your number 1 fan is waiting for more...

[MarianT]

Thanks for the encouragement, ChronicR and Natsuko!

[MarianT]

     "Come here, come here, come on," Azura cooed as little Carmen lurched across the floor. The name Carmen had been Tim's idea -- it had been the name of his favorite uncle. According to the book of names on the spaceship's computer, "Carmen" was a girl's name, but Azura couldn't cite that as a reference. She just hoped the child wouldn't develop a complex.  Still, if he could handle being blue, she guessed a funny name would be the least of his worries.
     "Good boy!" she crowed as Carmen reached her without falling over.



     Was it normal to take so long to learn how to walk? Of course, who could say what was normal, given the child's heritage. Ivy's daughter Carla had grown up in the blink of an eye, while Cerise's little boy Myron was still learning how to talk when Hope became a toddler.
     Cerise. She was still mad, and Azura just hated it when people were mad at her. It really wasn't her fault that men found her attractive. And the only really serious flirting she'd done with Wei had been before he and Cerise got married -- before they even knew each other. But apparently he still remembered the way she kissed -- well, she'd heard that before. She knew it didn't mean anything. She was just good at kissing the way some people were good at playing darts or swimming or something.
     And frankly, Wei just wasn't rich enough for her to want to break up Cerise's marriage and her own. She loved Tim, really she did, but she could be tempted by the offer of a house that wasn't in the middle of a swamp. Cerise and Ivy might rave about how wonderful it was to live in a place that reminded them so much of home, but Azura would move in a heartbeat. Mildew, peeling paint, fog morning, afternoon, and evening -- they could have it. As soon as Carmen was old enough to go to school, she was going to get out there with her guitar and start raking in the dough. And she wasn't going to have any more children. Carmen had the blue genes -- that was good enough for her even if Cerise did think they should each have two or three children, just to make sure their project would succeed.
 


     Azura stared at the mess. It looked as if Tim had stripped off his clothes and taken a shower in the water shooting out of the kitchen sink. She grabbed a wrench and started attacking the squirting faucet. "Did you not notice the sink was broken last night?" she asked when Tim shambled out of the bedroom.
     "Yeah, but I was really tired," he said.
     "Tired?!" she shrieked. She almost threw the wrench at him. "I'm going out," she said. "When Carmen wakes up, you need to change his diaper, change his clothes, and feed him in the high chair. Do you think you can handle that?"
     "Yeah, sure," said Tim, his attention already on a book.
     Azura flounced out of the house and drove off to the park. If she could pick up $1000 a day in tips, they could move in another month or so. But that was probably unrealistic. Maybe she could make enough to buy a dishwasher.
     Unfortunately, there weren't many people in the park on a Wednesday morning. She got only one tip -- $17 -- and it came from Wei Rouge. She almost set her guitar down so she could have a good cry on his shoulder, but instead she kept playing. Not for long, though -- a sixth sense warned her that things were not well at home. Azura hurried back and found that Carmen was sitting in his high chair, still in his pajamas. The floor was still covered with water and dirty clothes. Tim was still reading his book. She almost turned around and went out again, but of course she couldn't do that. She picked up Carmen and took him into the bathroom where he used the potty chair like he'd been doing it all his life. And then, when she tried to get him to walk, he came toward her without a single misstep. "Oh, I'm so proud of you!" she cooed at him, swinging him up overhead. And really, in that moment, life was totally good. Totally.

[Natsuko]

That was just so beautiful. Wowza, I like it!
"Cerise. She was still mad, and Azura just hated it when people were mad at her. It really wasn't her fault that men found her attractive. And the only really serious flirting she'd done with Wei had been before he and Cerise got married -- before they even knew each other. But apparently he still remembered the way she kissed -- well, she'd heard that before. She knew it didn't mean anything. She was just good at kissing the way some people were good at playing darts or swimming or something"
That was my favorite part! I love it! And your sims just have beautiful names, I love the name Cerise!

[MarianT]

Thanks -- did you change your avatar? Anyway, she'd quite pretty with the glasses.

[Natsuko]

Yup, I changed the avatar to my real simself.

[TheChronicR]

Kowabunga! That was one amazing piece of writing. You're great at writing, Marian. You left me saying "Gimme, gimme more"... Great!

[MarianT]

WEEK FOUR



     Ivy looked at the picture of her and Delores. It seemed like a long time ago and only yesterday. Delores was ready for school now, and she had actually ridden her bicycle into town to take a class in fishing from the grocery store. Ivy hoped that she would grow up to be another biologist, but she didn't want to push her.
     Ivy didn't know what to make of Carla, however. The other night Carla had said she'd like to have a sculptor's wheel. When Ivy had said they'd have to wait until she had enough money, Carla had plunked a fistful of simoleons on the table and stalked downstairs to her room. Ivy had counted them -- to her horror, the total was nearly 2000. Where had Carla gotten the money? She didn't even have a job, and although she sold a painting now and again, Ivy knew she wasn't getting more than $100 for them. Given the way Carla dressed...but no, she was too young.



     "Where did this money come from?" Ivy demanded, walking into Carla's room.
     "Mom! What about knocking?"
     "Never mind that. I want some answers. You tell me where a girl your age gets this amount of cash."
     "I sold some things," said Carla.
     "What things?"
     "Things I found."
      Ivy breathed a sigh of relief. "You mean like rocks and stuff? I know people can make some money scavenging, but I had no idea you could do this well."
     "Yeah, stuff." Carla yawned. "Look, Mom, just get me the sculpting wheel. And get something nice for yourself, too -- a dishwasher or something. G'night."
     "Thanks, honey," Ivy felt like she was going to cry. Carla had always been such a prickly child -- maybe she was growing out of the difficult stage. Ivy took a step towards her, to give her a hug, but Carla put up a hand.
     "Don't get all weepy," she said. "It's no big deal."
     Delores came in just then, so Ivy hugged her instead. "I've got the two best girls in the whole world," she said.
     Delores looked at Carla; Carla rolled her eyes. "I'm going," said Ivy. "Love you."
     "Love you, Mom," they chorused.
     "Oh, Mom," said Carla. "I almost forgot. There was this kind of creepy old guy looking for you earlier. He said his name was Max Racket."
     Ivy felt a cold shiver run down her spine. "I'm going to get some garlic from the store tomorrow," she said. "And I want you both to carry some in your pockets until I can get some to grow in the garden. Do you understand?"
     "No," said Delores.
     "He's a vampire," said Carla. "I'll explain later."