When Chenille Is Not Enough
Chapter 8

Kyle leaped from the couch a fraction of a second before Susan launched herself from her chair. He slid between Cecily and Bozidar, and spun her into Susan’s arms. He whirled on Bozidar and shoved him against the wall.

Susan pulled Cecily toward the couch, but her knees buckled before they reached it. Louise kicked the coffee table aside and reached out to Susan as she fell. With Cecily still clasped in her arms, Susan rolled over Louise, who slid off the couch. Cecily closed her eyes, squealed, and sprawled on top of both Susan and Louise.

Scott and Gary converged on Bozidar, flanking him. Bozidar’s eyes darted from one menacing face to another. He covered his nose with his hands.

Edna arrived with the tea tray, dropped it and grabbed the satchel Scott had left on the floor. She pulled out a pistol and shouted, “Don’t anyone move!”

Scott and Gary each held one of Bozidar’s elbows. Kyle stepped back, keeping his hands on Bozidar’s shoulders. Scott tilted his head at an unoccupied chair. Gary and Kyle both nodded, and the three of them walked Bozidar to the chair. Gary and Scott pushed him into the cushions while Kyle shoved the coffee table against his knees.

With his hand pressing down on Bozidar’s shoulder, Scott glanced at Edna and said, “Darling, do you mind lowering the pistol? The gentleman is subdued now.”

“He’s no gentleman,” Edna said. She aimed at Bozidar’s head.

“Get the black box,” Cecily said. She slid off the pile of ladies and sat on the floor, her back pressed against the couch. She hugged her knees to her chest. “He came here to kill us.”

Bozidar, hands still covering his nose, jerked his head up and stared at Cecily. He spoke, but the sound was muffled.

“Watch it,” Gary said through gritted teeth as he grabbed Bozidar’s hair and pulled.

Scott and Gary restrained Bozidar as Kyle searched him for the black box. “Found it,” Kyle said, backing away. He stood next to the couch, sheltering Cecily.

Susan put her arms around Cecily’s shoulders and kissed her. “Did he hurt you, sweetie?”

“Hurt her?” Bozidar shrieked. “Hurt her? No one could hurt that she-demon! She pounced on me as soon as we materialized, and she lied to me!”

Edna stepped closer to Bozidar, aiming between his eyes. He put his hands over his nose again and shrank back in the chair.

“Kidnapped,” Cecily said, pointing to her own face. “I’m just saying.” She leaned into her mother’s embrace, then looked at Scott. “By the way, you’re a great teacher. I remembered enough from your self-defense class to put him off balance. Then I convinced him to bring me home. I almost lost it when he said he was going to kill Mom, but I distracted myself by focusing on my surroundings, just like you said, so I could keep it together. But I’m babbling now, aren’t I?” She closed her eyes and curled closer to Susan.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Susan said, stroking her hair. “You’re home now, that’s all that matters.” She rocked her daughter, cooing.

“She hit me in the nose,” Bozidar mumbled.

Scott smiled. He motioned Kyle to take his place, then retrieved his notepad and settled into the green chair. “Edna, dear, you might be more comfortable on the couch. The line of sight will be the same.”

Edna nodded, and eased her way to the couch. Louise guided her the last step and helped her sit. Edna’s eyes never left Bozidar’s face, and the gun stayed pointed at his head.

Susan shifted to her knees, still hugging Cecily. Together they rose. Susan turned Cecily toward the kitchen and started to leave.

“Susan, if you can bear it, I would like Cecily to stay a moment longer,” Scott said. “There are some questions I’d like answered, and her presence might be useful.”

Susan brushed strands of purple hair from Cecily’s face and looked into her eyes. “Are you up for this?” she asked.

Cecily nodded, then glanced at the kitchen. Eleanor and Olivia stood in the doorway, cookies in hand. Large blue eyes stared out from their pale faces.

“Hi, mouselings,” Cecily said. Her voice cracked, but she smiled and waved at them. “How was school?”

“Fine,” Olivia, the older one said. She tugged on her blonde braid. “Did something bad happen?”

“Yes,” Edna said at the same time Susan said, “No.”

Susan scowled at Edna. “No. Not really. Anyway, we’re all fine now.”

“Why does Grandma have a gun?” Eleanor asked.

Susan patted Cecily, then went to her younger daughters. “Never mind your grandmother. Let’s go back into the kitchen, okay?”

“That’s just what my mother told me,” Edna said. Keeping her eyes on Bozidar, she handed the gun to Louise and rose. She backed away from the couch and toward the kitchen until she bumped into Cecily. “Sorry, kiddo,” she said, and turned to Susan. “I know you want to protect your children, but hiding the truth from them isn’t a help. Cecily is back because she took Scott’s class. Knowledge is power, you know.”

Susan opened her mouth, only to close it by centimeters. She chewed her lip, nodded, and knelt in front of the girls. “You know I keep my promises, right?”

The girls looked at each other, then at Susan. Olivia nodded, but Eleanor said, “Except about the broccoli. Even with ranch dressing it’s still awful.”

Olivia jabbed her sister. “Yes, you keep your promises, Mom.”

Susan ruffled Eleanor’s brown curls, patted Olivia’s cheek and said, “I’ll admit broccoli is an acquired taste and I shouldn’t have promised you would like it. But I will promise you this. I’ll answer all your questions if you’ll go upstairs now and let us sort this out.”

“How did Cecily get here, Mom? I didn’t hear a car,” Eleanor said.

“Is the bad man an alien?” Olivia asked.

“Why do you say that?” Susan asked

“Because we know the alien movie Cecily made was part real,” Eleanor said.

Olivia jabbed her again. “We didn’t snoop, Mom.” Her eyes flickered to Cecily, then back to Susan. “And Cecily didn’t say anything, either. But we heard you ask her not to talk about it.”

Edna laughed. “So much for protecting the youngsters.” She shooed them away. “Off with you now, girls. Go upstairs and watch some TV that your mother doesn’t like. We’ll be up later.”

Edna went back to the couch. Louise held the gun with both hands, aimed at Bozidar, but her finger wasn’t on the trigger. Edna took the gun and said, “You’re too far away to club him with it, dearie.”

Louise scooted over to let Edna sit. “I wasn’t going to use it in any event.”

“Probably just as well,” Edna said as she trained the barrel on Bozidar. “Wouldn’t want to hit the wrong person.” She shifted a pillow under her elbow. “Spill it, space boy. Why do you want my daughter dead?”

Bozidar slumped in the chair, a tear rolled down his cheek, and his shoulders trembled. He glanced at Cecily; more tears dripped off his chin. He lifted his head, shifting his attention to Edna. He gripped the armrests, but his jaw relaxed and resignation replaced the fear in his eyes.

Edna adjusted her aim.

“I do not want anyone to die,” Bozidar said.

“That’s not what you told me!” Cecily shouted. She tightened her embrace around her mother. “You said your clan sent you here to kill us all!”

“Yes,” Bozidar said, his voice soft and unsteady. He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he repeated, “my clan did send me here for revenge. I would have done my duty.”

“You haven’t answered the question,” Scott said.

“You asked for context,” Bozidar said. He glared at Cecily. “You implied that you would assist in the explanations.”

“I was a hostage,” Cecily said. “I get to lie.”

Louise held up her hands. “We’re not getting anywhere. Kyle, bring out the quilt. Maybe a different approach will give both sides a chance to explain.”

“Sides?” Edna said. She snapped off the word like the crack of a whip. “I don’t see any sides here. I see family, and the one who intended us harm.”

“Technically, Edna, that constitutes two sides,” Louise said. She rolled to her feet and with one graceful step placed herself between Bozidar and Edna’s gun. “Kyle, the quilt, please.”

Kyle squeezed Cecily’s shoulder, then backed up to the wall where the frame rested. He bent his knees to lift it but kept his eyes on Bozidar.

“Take it out of the frame, please,” Louise said.

Kyle knelt on the floor and released the back of the frame. He gathered the quilt and brought it to his mother. Louise folded one end over her arm, and presented it to Bozidar. He shrank back in the chair, shaking his head. His breathing became rapid but shallow, and his fingers clawed the armrests.

“Breathe,” Louise commanded. “Come on, inhale, exhale, and tell us what this quilt means to you.”

Bozidar held his breath. He looked in Louise’s eyes. His focus then darted from Edna to Cecily to Susan, and back to Louise. He nodded, exhaled, and moved his hands to the quilt. His fingers traced the embroidered patches. He closed his eyes, lifted the edge of the quilt to his face and inhaled. He stroked the side of his face with the velvet backing. Now clutching the fragment to his chest, he sighed.

“I will tell you why I was sent here, but there is another story you must hear first,” he said.

“Quit stalling,” Edna growled.

“Edna, please.” Louise turned from Bozidar and stood next to Edna. She put one hand on Edna’s and curled the fingers of her other hand around the gun. As she slid it from Edna’s grasp, she said, “Don’t ask me why I trust him now, but I do. Let him talk.”

“What can he possibly tell us?” Susan asked.

“I can tell you who you really are,” Bozidar said.

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