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Littermates
1966--Meeting Kitten
St. Lucy of Syracuse Long Term Care Facility
They huddled in the fog. Milda rocked, wept, and moaned. Acacia held her tightly, but she didn't speak. She hadn't spoken since they'd all dived back into the fog that had given them birth, fleeing the outside world. It had been Naresha who had led the way, dragging her sisters to the one place where she knew no one could touch them.
Now she hovered around her sisters, watching them with concern. She wasn't surprised about Milda. Milda had been drifting since Colin died. Naresha and Acacia had been startled when she'd come out to speak to the detective, and even more surprised when she'd resisted their efforts to get her to give up control. No, Milda's withdrawal was to be expected--but Acacia wasn't responding, either, and that bothered Naresha.
Acacia was the first of them, the one who'd come into being to insure Kathleen's survival. Violence and disorder were a part of her very being. Killing The Bastard and The Bitch should have exhilarated her, but she'd withdrawn almost as deeply as Milda. It had taken Naresha days to find them, and she still couldn't get Casey to respond to her.
A figure crept out of the fog. Kitten went to Milda and Acacia, circling them. Tiny hands patted and tugged at the girls. When she got no reaction, she whined unhappily. Naresha knelt beside her, putting her arms around the little girl. "They won't talk to me, 'Reesha," the little girl complained. "Was I bad?"
"No, love. They're just upset," Naresha soothed her.
Kitten looked at Acacia, then scratched her head and said, "Casey been hunting. I can smell it. Did she eat a mousie an' get sick?"
"It wasn't exactly hunting, dear. She killed some people."
"Oh?" Kitten sounded curious, but not at all upset. "Who?"
"Some very nasty people. People who hurt us when we were little, and were trying to hurt us again. One of them was attacking Milda..."
"An' Casey got 'im! Good ol' Casey. How come she's sad 'bout that?"
"Sad?" Naresha bent down, looking into Acacia's face. Her expression was set in a small snarl, but her eyes... Naresha stood back up, frowning. There was rage in Acacia's eyes, but there was also something Naresha hadn't expected--grief. *I don't believe it. She wasn't like this when Milda was hurt by Colin's death, and her first reaction to anyone hurting us is anger. She can't be mourning for what she did to The Bastard. Is it possible that it was killing The Bitch that did this to her? God, Casey--guilt? Over that?* "I don't think that's it. But she killed our mother, too."
Kitten cocked her head thoughtfully. "So?"
"My thoughts exactly, darling."
Kitten rubbed her face against Naresha's shoulder. "I'm glad you guys is here, but it's no fun if Milda an' Casey won't talk to me. Even Kathleen talks to me sometimes."
"They'll get over it," Naresha assured her, though she was beginning to worry about it herself. "It just may take some time."
"How long?"
Naresha sighed. "I don't know, dear. We'll just have to see."
Time passed. There was no telling how much time passed--it was hard to tell in the fog. Now and again Naresha would try to reach Acacia or Milda, but with no success. Kitten would visit occasionally, and Naresha sometimes saw a vague figure moving through the fog. She suspected that it was Kathleen, but the girl never came any closer, and never responded if she called. Naresha didn't really blame her. Kathleen had endured more pain than any of them, and Naresha didn't blame her for choosing not to be around Acacia and Milda when pain was coming off them in waves.
Naresha knew that the world was going on outside the fog, but she couldn't leave Acacia and Milda alone to go and see how things were going. She just assumed that they hadn't been sentenced to death for what had happened--she was fairly sure that even the fog would not have been able to remain unchanging through that.
Kitten visited again, cuddling up so that she could press against both Milda and Acacia. She said, "'Reesha? There's a man out there."
"There's a lot of men out there, Precious," Naresha said idly.
"This one is diff'rent. I think he knows we're here. He says, 'come out, come out, wherever you are', then he laughs an' says 'whoever you are'." Kitten giggled. "He's funny."
This interested Naresha. During their entire existence, no one had really suspected that there were more than one of them--no one except Nana. "Have you seen this man, Kitten?"
Kitten shook her head. "I dint go out, I just listened. The lady who brings the food calls him Doctor Clyde. Can I go out, Naresha? I think he might be fun to play with."
Naresha pursed her lips. Her first instinct was to forbid Kitten to make contact with the outside world. *But I know how I'd react if someone tried that with me. And besides, this way I can find out a little about what's going on out there without having to leave the girls.* "You can if you want to, dear. But Kitten?" Naresha's voice was serious, and Kitten looked up at her alertly. "Let him tell you more than you tell him, if you can. Do you understand?" Kitten nodded again, putting a finger to her lips. "Good girl."
Dr. Clyde checked the medical report hanging in the slot outside Kathleen Bahste's room. There had been some progress. When it was meal time the food was divided into small pieces and lumped together in a deep bowl. The attendant would put a spoon in the girl's hand, then set her in motion, and she would feed herself. It wasn't as encouraging as it might have been. The food was served in a bowl, because Kathleen wasn't capable of actually targeting bits of food, and so she never completely emptied her bowl. Still, it was much better than a feeding tube. This way, with physical therapy, she wouldn't waste away like some catatonics.
Last night Costas had been grumbling about not being able to use Kathleen as a donor, but Clyde stood firm on his decision. "You're just going to have to give me more time," Clyde insisted. "I'm telling you, Costly, you don't want to risk this girl waking up suddenly when you're trying to have a light snack." He'd reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out a stack of photographs. "You know we have contacts in the police department? Well, he got me copies of the crime scene photographs. Have a peep."
Costas shuffled through the pictures, his expression going stiff. "I haven't seen anything like that since I came across the aftermath of a fight between a Brujah and a lycanthrope."
"Nasty, isn't it? And I know you, Costly--you don't like fight in your meals. Wait a little while. If I think she's reached a point where it will be safe, I'll let you know." He held up two fingers in the Boy Scout salute. "Promise."
Now Clyde entered the room, carefully locking the door after himself. Kathleen was in her usual position, lying on her bunk. "Good evening, young lady. Young ladies. You're looking beautiful tonight. That whacked off place in your hair is starting to grow in." He paused, giving her a chance to make a response. As usual, none came. He sighed, then shook a finger at her. "You're going to talk to me, sooner or later. I just hope it's not when you're a little gray lady." He sat on the edge of the bed. "What shall we talk about tonight?"
Clyde no longer bothered to strip away the auras. It had taken him several days before he felt fairly satisfied that he'd seen all the auras. There seemed to be three more distinct personas besides the angry red and cool indigo that he'd found on the first examination. Under those there was a yellow aura, but it wasn't the muddy color of madness. No, this was a clear, vibrant yellow, like sunshine. After finding that layer, he hadn't been entirely surprised to realize there were more. The one beneath the yellow was pearl gray, and it was thin--almost insubstantial. Whoever this belonged to, they were the weakest member of the group.
He'd smiled when he came to the last aura. It was very strong, and a warm pink. This aura almost vibrated with life. "I want to meet you, sweetheart," he'd told her as he studied the shifting glow. "I think you must be like..." He thought for a moment, then snickered, "Feral Barbie."
It was sudden. One moment the girl's eyes were as blank as slate, then next they were bright and intelligent, and fixed intently on Clyde. "You gots a Barbie?" The voice was small and light, sounding very young.
Clyde felt a burst of excitement, but he didn't show it. Any too emphatic emotion might frighten the girl back into catatonia. "Not with me, no."
"Oh." The disappointment was clear.
Clyde spoke quickly, lest the girl drift off again. "Don't you have one?"
She sat up, scratching unconcernedly under her arm. "No. Mama says I'se too little. Kathleen use'ta have lots of Barbies, an' lots an' lots of clothes for 'em, but I think she dint like 'em much." The girl shrugged. "She dint like 'most anything the bad peoples gave her." She gave him a sly look, then said in a sing-song voice, "I know who you are. You're Doctor Clyde."
"Well, well, well. You've been paying attention, haven't you? Clever girl. Clyde studied the girl. It was obvious that this was Kathleen Bahste's alternate personality--or one of them. He gave her an innocent look and said, "You're not Kathleen?"
The girl snorted. "No, silly!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Who are you, then?" When she stared at him silently, he let his voice drop confidingly. "I won't tell anyone else."
"I'se Kitten, but Daddy calls me Kitty sometimes."
"That's a pretty name, and it suits you. You look a lot like Kathleen Bahste, though."
Kitten shook her head. "Kathleen's lots bigger'n me. She's got two numbers in how old she is."
"And how old are you?"
The girl held up one hand, fingers spread wide. She studied it for a moment, then tucked her thumb against her palm. "This many."
"That many? Well, I think you're old enough for a Barbie." She beamed at him, and Clyde saw that even with the still ragged hair she was a beautiful young woman. "I'll try to get you one, and some clothes for it, but you have to do something for me."
She scooted back, staring at him suspiciously. "What?" Her tone was flat.
He pulled his legs up on the bed, folding them to sit Indian style, like the girl was now. "You sound worried. Why?"
"Naresha says when a man wants you to do something for him--look out."
*Naresha? Another one.* "I'm sure she's right a lot of the time, but what I want you to do isn't anything bad. I just want you not to go back to wherever you were before."
"I gots to. I can't stay out forever. It wouldn't be fair."
"Not forever," he agreed. "But if I call you, will you come again?"
She thought about it. "That all I gots to do?"
"Just come back, and talk to me a little. That's all. What did you think I might want?"
"Oh, you know." Clyde shook his head. She giggled. "Youse a big man, you know. Men jump on girls."
"Jump on them? You mean beat them up?"
"That, too."
"Do you mean that they have sex with them?" She nodded. "You don't have to worry about that. I don't have sex with women. I like boys."
Her eyes got round. "Really?"
"Really."
She thought some more. "How?"
"We can discuss that some other time."
"Okay. I gots to go."
"All right, Kitten. The next time I talk to you, I'll have some things for you. And Kitten?" She looked at him questioningly. "Say hello to the others for me, and tell them I look forward to meeting them." She nodded again, but doubtfully. Then she leaned back against the wall, she drooped slightly, and her eyes suddenly lost focus. She was once again the rag doll she'd been since entering St. Lucy's.
Clyde started to poke her back into a reclining position, but he paused, then got up and gently lowered her instead. Clyde made up his mind about people quickly, and he was seldom wrong. He liked this girl. *Well, I like the one who talked to me, anyway. She's a cutie. And Nareesha, whoever she is, sounds interesting, too. From the sound of it she must be a good bit older than Kitten. From what I've read about her history, she gave the kid good advice about men. She's probably a caretaker personality. I hope I'll be able to talk her into coming out, but I'd better concentrate on Kitten for awhile. If I move too fast, she may shut down entirely again.*
Clyde left the room. He paused before locking the door, thinking, *I wonder if she'd notice if I left it open?* A patient who was still an unknown quantity loose in the corridors could prove interesting. He sighed, locking the door. *But problematic. Costas has been good about covering my ass when I get too frisky for the Board's comfort, because he knows I get the job done, but as much as I enjoy tempting Fate, I shouldn't go poking it with a sharp stick too often.*
Clyde headed out into the less secure section of the home, and found Joel in the patients' lounge. The boy was playing cards with two other patients. He leaned over the boy's shoulder, plucked a card out, and tossed it on the table. "He'll take two."
"Doctor Clyde..." sighed Joel.
Clyde whispered in his ear, "You have two pair. This way you have a chance at a full house."
Joel whispered back, "But we're playing Go Fish."
"Oh, in that case..." Clyde took a quick tour around the table. "Pablo has sixes and eights, and Donna has fives." The other two players tossed in their cards. "Done already? Come on, then, Joel."
Joel waved to the others and followed Clyde out into the hall. Clyde shut the door to the lounge, squinted up and down the corridor to be sure there was no one else within hearing distance, and said, "Guess what?"
Joel was already smiling. 'Guess what?' usually meant something pleasant or interesting from Clyde. "What?"
"The new girl that you've been wanting to meet? She spoke to me tonight."
Joel brightened. "Really!"
"Well, part of her talked to me." Joel frowned in puzzlement. "There's more than one of her in there. I've told you about that, Joel." Joel's expression cleared. "Anyway, I talked to the very young part of her, and I think I've persuaded her to keep talking to me, but I want to be sure, so I'm going to try to make coming out a little more pleasant for her. I know there's an all night Wal-Mart nearby." He smiled at Joel. "How would you like to go toy shopping with me?" Joel hugged him enthusiastically. "I'll take that as a yes. Let's go to my office, and I'll write you out a pass." He looped an arm around Joel's shoulders and began to lead him away. "Seems a little silly, since I'm the one taking you out, but sometimes it's just easier to play by the rules."
Joel was playing with Clyde's jacket lapel as they walked. "Are you going to visit her for food now?"
"No, no. And none of the others will, either, if they know what's good for them. I still don't know exactly what to expect from her. Joel, I don't want you talking about this to anyone else about this."
"What if Mister Costas asks me?"
"Lie," he said bluntly. "I haven't put this in her record. He'll know when I think he should know."
They were just turning the corner into the next hall. A moment after they passed, one of the doors opened and Bill Landrue came out. He stared toward where the other men had exited, sucking his teeth thoughtfully. *So, Doctor Clyde has himself some sort of new secret. Maybe I'll just look into that.* He turned and started back toward the lounge. *My student councilor used to tell me that knowledge was power. Maybe the old fart knew something after all.*
