April 27, 2012

Daddy's much better, almost acting like Daddy again. He stopped talking to himself this morning.

I don't think he likes Grandpa Hank very much, though. And I don't think Grandpa Hank likes Daddy, either. Grandpa Hank asked me yesterday if Daddy was always this crazy, and I said that Daddy wasn't crazy at all.

I don't think I like Grandpa Hank. He's too suspicious of Daddy.

Besides, he tried to get me to play Life with him. But I don't like Life. Aunt Anya always wins. He wanted to play Monopoly, but that's such a boring game. So finally I left him reading the paper in the middle of the living room and went to get Daddy some Kool-Aid.

Mommy said Daddy needed to drink his Kool-Aid.

Grandpa Hank asked me what I was doing heating Daddy's mug in the microwave, so I told him I was heating up the Kool-Aid, just the way Daddy liked it. Grandpa Hank got a funny look on his face and muttered something about "nuts" and left the room.

If he thinks that was weird, I'm really glad Grandpa Hank didn't stay around to see me add hot chocolate mix and little marshmallows to the warm Kool-Aid.

Daddy liked it a lot. He said it was even better than Wheatabix.

Right now, I'm pretending to be napping in my room. Aunt Dawnie had to do something for her job and Mommy went grocery shopping. Daddy and Grandpa Hank are talking downstairs.

"William, was it?"

"Er, yeah. That's me. William."

"So, do you usually stay in the basement?"

A pause.

"Not always, generally just during the day."

"Ah. Say, William, where were you born?"

"London."

"Oh, that's where the accent came from. Say, is there a trend of mental problems in your family?"

Daddy growled. "What kind of question is that, Hank?"

"Oh, you know, just asking around. Just want to know a little of your background, William."

"Well, all right then." I could practically hear the smirk in Daddy's voice. "My first family was pretty ordinary. But my second one…well, my sire—mother, I meant, was stark raving mad. The stars and moon would talk to her all day."

"Your-your second family?"

"Oh yeah. I got adopted when I was young. Tried to take Mother with me; didn't work." Daddy faltered a little. "Anyway, really lively family. We moved throughout Europe, then we lost Grandpa in Romania."

"I'm sorry." Even to my eight-year-old ears he didn't sound sincere.

"'S alright. He was a tyrannical ol' wanker. Great-grandmum kicked him out, actually, 'cause he turned into a great big poof."

"Oh."

"Then we gradually moved to China and met up with the Poof again. He tried to get in Great-grandmum's good graces. Didn't work." He paused. "That was where I met my first."

"Your first? Girlfriend?"

"Something like that, yeah. Loved her in that moment when we joined and I claimed her. That was Heaven. But she was only a pale shadow of Buffy."

"What was her name?"

"Didn't ask, don't know."

"Well, what happened then? When did you break it off with the Chinese girl?"

"Broke up with her that very night. It was a one-time thing. After that, Darla—Great-grandmum, that is—left us. So it was just me and my surrogate 'mum'. We traveled around a bit, then came to the States not too long ago. I met my second in New York City."

"A one-night stand?"

"Oh, no, not at all. We danced for weeks. In parks, alleys, everywhere. I didn't know she had a son."

"Is that why you broke up with her?"

"Oh no. Didn't know little Robin existed until very recently. But this girl, she was hot. We 'broke up' in a subway car."

"Did you catch her name?"

"Yeah. Nikki. She had Buffy's style. Different from the Chinese girl."

"I see. And is Buffy your third?"

Daddy laughed. "Once upon a time, I wished she would have been. But I gave up on trying to increase my number to three after falling in love with her. She's something special."

"Yes, Buffy is definitely a very special girl. Tell me, William, what types of stories do you write?"

"Stories?! Is that what she said I did for a living?"

"You mean you aren't a writer?"

"Oh, uh, no. No bloody way. Once a long time ago, I wanted to be a sissy poet. But I got over that soon enough. Buffy was just joking."

"So, what do you do for a living? William, I'm finding myself quite interested in you."

"Well, I…I help Buffy out with patr— around the house, I mean. And I teach night classes at UC Sunnydale during the fall semester."

"I see. Well, William, you don't seem to get out a lot during the day. I must say, you're remarkably pale, considering the fact that we're in Southern California."

"It runs in the family," Daddy replied.

The front door opened. Mommy was back!

I hope she got me chocolate popsicles! I better get to them first; Daddy sometimes steals them to put into his Kool-Aid.