My Tummy Feels Weird
She had read, and reread Parker's letters 100 times, but it didn't mean she wouldn't read them 100 more. Since he had left, home had become a bit more lonely, but it had also become safer since John Jr. had gone at the same time. And though she was always excited when Parker returned, she felt somehow distant from him and sometimes slightly ignored. She had written him multiple times in his first year, and had received no response. Now though, he had been the one to start writing her, and she loved it. Lyssa loved the way writing letters felt, the time and effort it took putting your thoughts down was more difficult in a letter than via text or on the phone, and therefore more important.
Plus, she liked to imagine what Sonora was like, and where Parker was writing her from. Parker said there were things he couldn't tell her, but he had told her about the gardens that we would walk through every day, and how the place reminded him of an old castle almost with old pictures and stone hallways. Lyssa liked imagining the school, and had asked Parker if she'd go. His non-answer was all the answer she needed, and she knew that she'd be here with her parents for a long while yet.
That was fine. Her mom and dad were loving, and though she was the only one around now, her parents still had family nights, and they laughed, though less, and they played around with her, though less. And Lyssa couldn't be certain, but she could swear her mom was eyeing her in a weird way when Lyssa's back was turned, almost as if she was looking for something. It felt, scary and a bit like when she broke her leg and her mom was following her around "just in case". Still, it was nice to know her mom loved her, and whenever she felt bad or sick, she knew she could go to her. Which is why, with Parker's more recent letter in her hand, she was knocking on her mother's door after getting home from school.
"Yes sweetie, what is it?" Susanne Fitzgerald said to her youngest daughter.
"My tummy feels weird," Lyssa said walking up to her mother with a slight frown on her face. She'd felt like there was something hot and bubbling in her stomach all day, and she was sure she didn't like it.
"What do you mean by weird?"
"I dunno. Like there's something hot inside, like tea or coco that's moving around, and boiling up."
Susanne sat for a minute looking at her daughter. Moving a bit of her daughters brown hair out of the way, she gently felt Lyssa's head. It felt normal, but being the woman she was Susanne reached for a thermometer.
"Ok, say Ah Sunshine,"
Lyssa opened her mouth as her mother stuck in a computer thermometer. There was a pop, then a fizzle sound. Susanne reached in and pulled the thermometer out of her daughters mouth.
Looking down the display was clearly broken. Shattered as if something had punched it from inside going out.
Lyssa could see the fear race across her mothers face and then fade just as quickly. What just happened?
Her mother took a deep breath, held it and then picked Lyssa up into her lap. Lyssa's mom spoke slowly, almost carefully, "Honey, can you turn off the light?"
Lyssa looked at her mom like she was crazy. She'd come in here because of a tummy ache, and now her mom wanted her to turn off the light?
"Of course," Lyssa said, moving to get down from her mothers lap. Her mothers arms closed around her.
"No, no, no Sunshine. Can you do it like Parker does it?"
Lyssa could feel her heart beat in her ears. Like Parker does it. That means with magic?
She turned to face her mother, "But Parker said I wouldn't be magic like him. Why would I be able to it like him if I'm not like that? I'm non-magic like you and dad."
Susanne closed her eyes. Her voice sounded calm and loving, "You two are more alike than you might realize. Why don't you try? Reach out and try to turn off the light."
Lyssa thought this was all too silly, but closed her eyes and reached out to the light switch. Suddenly her tummy surged with heat and then disappeared.
"Oh my, sunshine..." Lyssa heard her mom say with a voice of wonder. Lyssa opened her eyes to complete darkness, as if the sun had gone out.