Pervading Interactive Stress Syndrome (PISS)
Part
6
"Stevie, Stevie, come quick. Alan's hurtin' my sis'ser!!!" Joshua yelled, running as fast as his
little legs could carry him through Jerry's subconscious.
Stevie opened his room door to find his best friend racing
down the hallway past him. "What? Hey, wait up, Josh!!!" he yelled,
running after him.
Joshua
stopped at Alan's door, then burst into the room shouting, "Don't be hurtin' my sis...oh, hi, Stine." He stopped, seeing
his sister sitting on a small stool. She had her knees tucked under her chin as
she gazed at Alan, who was lying in fetal position on the ground whimpering
quietly. "Whatcha doin'?"
"Hi,
Josh," said Chris, looking at him without moving. "I want you to make
something real for me."
"Slow
down, Josh...whoa, cool!" said Stevie, running up behind his friend and stopping as he,
too, noticed Alan. "What'd you do to him?"
"He's
suffering," said Chris, standing up and stretching leisurely.
"Listen, Stevie, I want you to make one of those
jars that Jerry made that holds ghosts. And Josh, well, Alan's nightmare needs
a realistic touch, but it's gotta fit in Stevie's jar. Can you do it?"
Stevie and Josh exchanged glances,
then looked back at Chris. "Can we!!!" they replied
simultaneously.
Jerry
and I came back to my room to find Naomi asleep in my papasan
chair. "Just as well," I said, patting his head. "She's had
enough grief for a week without waking up to a malamute breathing down her
neck."
"Aw,
come on, lemme wake her," he said, putting his
paws on the edge of the chair. "Maybe she likes being scared
shitless."
"Change
back before you scare the kids," I laughed.
"What's
this change back stuff?" he said. "As far as I know, I didn't change
me in the first place, not that I minded."
"Well,
it couldn't have been me...oh, no, wait...it coulda,"
I said, remembering my dream. "See, I was just a little..."
"Stressed,"
he finished for me. "I know."
Christine
and her entourage of four-year-old boys suddenly entered the hall from the Link
doorway.
"Cool,
a dog!!!" Joshua said, galloping up and hugging him. Jerry winced as
Josh's arms brushed painfully close to a wound. "Can we keep him?"
"It's
not a dog, dummy, it's a wolf," said Stevie.
"Whatever!"
came Josh's reply. "Can we, huh, can we, pleeeease, huh can we?"
"Joshua,
be careful, he's hurt!" I said, watching Jerry wince again.
"That
and I'm Jerry, not a pet," Jerry added.
"Cool,
then we can keep him!" Josh said, climbing on his back.
"Cool!"
Stevie said, joining him.
Jerry
looked up at me with pleading eyes. "Well," I said, with a conceding
shrug, "wolves do make great pack dogs. And it's not like you don't
already hang out here."
"Change
me back or pick the child you want to see die first," Jerry growled.
I
raised my eyebrows in surprise, then turned Jerry back into his old self again,
with two disappointed 4 year olds on his back. Christine was watching us in
silence, while holding an empty, but closed jar in her hands. She had a strange
air about her that had replaced her normal childlike innocence, but I wasn't
sure how or why. "What's up, Chris?" I asked, looking into her eyes
for some sort of sign. "You look a little...different." Usually the
eyes were a dead giveaway with her, but this time, aside from not being as
bright and shiny as usual, they were otherwise normal.
"Some
of us deal with stress differently," she replied coolly. "Feeling
better?"
"Deja vu," I said to Jerry, who was wrestling with the
boys on the floor. "What's the jar for?" I directed to Christine.
"Nobody,"
she said, then turned away. I frowned as the boys, almost on cue, jumped up and
followed her.
"You
mean, no-thing," I corrected. Chris smiled briefly, almost
pityingly at me, then opened her door.
Jerry
stood to look at the jar, then at me. "No, she means no-body,"
he said.
I
looked from him to the jar, then realized it looked
rather familiar. "Hey didn't you use that same kinda
jar to put Naomi and..." Christine and the boys were already in her room
when I looked back at Jerry questioningly. "Okay, whomever
it is, there's probably a good reason for it," I said, purposely not
mentioning the unfortunate ghost's name.
"Yeah,
Alan probably deserved it, anyway," Jerry agreed.
I
gave him a grin that he mirrored.
"Stress
just brings out the animal in everyone, doesn't it?" I sighed.
"Bad
pun," he said, pulling another bit of fur from his teeth.