Mommy is on the phone with Grandma. She’s telling her all about the alarms and the dogs. Daddo is at his desk, but he’s moved the desk into the living room so that we’re all together and never apart. We’re home. Kind of. It’s our house, yeah, but it feels different now. Kami and Kamael sit by the front door. Last time I walked by, they were staring at the door like it could open any second. I think of the trainers saying the dogs are at work. I get what they mean now. And everything’s fine over there? Mommy asks Grandma. If anything remotely unsettling happens, come here immediately. But remember we have these guard dogs for at least the next few days. We were taught how to get them to acc ept you. Yes. Acc ept. Daddo is on his computer. He still hasn’t shaved and he looks funny. Not exactly like Daddo. And Mom, Mommy says, thanks for all you’ve done here. Mommy ends the call. You hungry, Bela? she asks. Yeah. We go into the kitchen while Daddo types. The TV is off. Mommy and Daddo don’t turn the TV on. No music either. They say they don’t want to confuse the dogs, but I don’t think that would confuse the dogs. I think Mommy and Daddo just want to be able to hear the whole house. Mac and cheese? Mommy asks. Yeah. I sit at the table. If I lean back in my chair, I can see Kami and Kamael down the hall, up at the front door. They’re both sitting with their faces toward the door. I wonder what they think about when they work. Can we ke ep them? I ask. No, Mommy says. Remember what they said: these aren’t pets. How about we get one just like them? I say. Then we can feel safer forever. That’s something to think about, Mommy says. She puts the pot on the stove. Maybe if we got two they could be friends like Kami and Kamael are friends. Bela? What? Did you mean what you said about... her giving you a present? One of the dogs growls by the front door. Daddo stands up.
Mommy st eps to the hall so she can see them too. Ursula? Daddo says. But Mommy is already walking toward the dogs. Me and Daddo follow Neither of the dogs turn to look at us. Probably just a neighbor, Daddo says. Maybe, Mommy says. All three of us jump a little at the sound of water sizzling and Mommy goes back to the kitchen because the pot is overflowing. No one is at the door. We see a neighbor walk by on the sidewalk through the window. He looks at our house the whole time he passes. Good dogs, Daddo says. He doesn’t pat their heads. He just watches them watching the door. Until Mommy says the mac and cheese is ready and Daddo says he’ll have some, too, and then all three of us are eating at Daddo’s desk in the living room, surrounded by cameras and alarms and bells and those two amazing dogs that growled at a regular old person outside our house. I don’t say what I’m thinking. But maybe I should. I’m thinking it’s my fault Mommy and Daddo are so worried. It’s my fault the house has so many alarms now. It’s my fault the dogs can’t be played with. It’s my fault Grandma saw Other Mommy at Evelyn’s house. If I’d just said yes, none of this would be happening. I think. But then... who would be me right now? Would she? And where would I go? Is where she comes from a worse place than this? Mommy and Daddo look different now. I bet I do too. I put my hand on my neck and feel my pulse. Does my heart beat louder than it used to? Me and Other Mommy used to laugh. I heard her laugh once anyway. When Mommy and Daddo were out with Mark and Kelvin was watching me at home. I was in my bathroom and Kelvin was talking on the phone in my bedroom and then he started talking about reincarnation and how the best thing a person can do is to help their friend live. He said come to life. He said a good friend helps a friend come to life. When I came out of the bathroom he wasn’t in my bedroom. But Other Mommy was. She was standing by the window with her back to me. I heard Kelvin outside, down in the yard, on his phone for real. Other Mommy laughed then, like Kelvin laughs. Then I realized she wasn’t facing the window, she was facing me. She said to me, Do you hear that, Bela? I can sound just like everyone you know. And she laughed then in her real voice. I don’t wanna think about her real voice.
You okay, Bela? Daddo asks. Why are you asking her that? Mommy asks. What is it, Bela? She’s just staring off into space, Daddo says. Bela? Mommy says. I’m worried it’s my fault Mommy and Daddo have alarms on themselves now too. They have a framed picture in their bedroom upstairs of a woman dancing. One time Mommy told me the woman is “free.” When Other Mommy was pretending to be Mommy, she said a lot of things about how I get in the way of her being free. Other Mommy has been right about a lot of things, hasn’t she? She knew about the man who died. And she knows what things make me happy and sad. She knows how to make me feel safe and to make me feel scared. Does Mommy really think I make her not free? Bela? Mommy says. She puts her hand to my head like she’s checking for a fever. I was just thinking, I say. About what? Daddo asks. I can hear every room, I think. Maybe it’s because there are dog ears in the house now. Kelvin, I say. What about him? Mommy asks. I miss him, I say. Well, I’m sorry to r eport, Daddo says, you won’t be seeing Kelvin for a while. We won’t be seeing anybody. Do you understand why that is? Mommy asks. I do. Nobody can come near us because I ke ep saying no. And the more I say no, the more Other Mommy will meow like Pester outside my bedroom door, until she gets mean. Yeah, I say. But do you? Mommy says. For real? Tell me for real. Yeah. They go quiet for a minute. Then Daddo says, Let’s at least put a movie on silent. I can’t sit here like this, just staring at the rest of the house. He turns the TV on and turns the volume all the way down. After a minute he looks at his phone. I see it’s the screen that shows him what the cameras see. And so, even with the movie on, Daddo still stares at the rest of the house. I’m sorry, I say. But neither of them say anything back. Daddo is still looking at his phone and Mommy is staring at the screen and they both seem like they’re in other places and while I don’t want to be alone in the house I feel like I am. I feel like I have the answer for all this. I feel like I can make it all go away. But where would I go?
How long do you think we’d have to go without an incident for us to feel back to normal? Daddo asks. Then he looks like he didn’t really wanna say that out loud. And Mommy doesn’t answer him. And it feels like we’re stuck here. Just like this. Without knowing the answer to that. Forever.