"Honey . . . Cassie . . . that was some of the *finest* food I have ever tasted in my life," Cassie's dad said. "It wasn't only insanely delicious, but there was so much of it that I think if I try to get up right now I'll split into two, and both halves will just wobble on the ground like happy Jell-O."
Cassie's mom and I exchanged a grin. We listened eagerly as "Dad" waxed eloquent about the food. It was an old family tradition I had witnessed many times before, but it was always different, and always entertaining.
"I mean, we didn't just cover the five major food groups, here. We covered all fifteen minor food groups. We delved into food groups that are generally reserved for God's own angels. I don't know what you two did in the kitchen, but I know there was something supernatural at work, because that pumpkin pie was outside of anything mortal man was meant to enjoy."
We laughed. "Keep this up, sugar," said Cassie's mom. "I'm liking this."
He sat up, glad for his favorite audience. "I mean, can we just talk about the potatoes? We had sweet potatoes, we had mashed potatoes, we had baked and scalloped potatoes. We had french fries, we had potato salad, we had potato chips. We had every form of potatoes imaginable, and each one was a symphony on the tongue. And let's not forget, ladies, that potatoes have got to be the most boring food in the world! Now, about that meat you cooked, baby . . ."
I closed my eyes, listening to "Dad's" warm, laughing voice. He went on for a long time like that. Then he said that he needed dessert, and he and Cassie's mom were quiet for a little while. I wasn't paying much attention. I was so full. Given that I wouldn't gain weight in morph, I had eaten a more than I normally would have. I didn't want to move. The spring sunshine had warmed the blanket, and I felt heavy peace press gently down on me.
I made an effort to move my lips. "Hey, Mrs . . ." I caught myself. "Mom?"
There was a pause, then, laughingly, "Yes, Miss Cassie?"
"Wake me up in half an hour, okay?"
"Sure, sweetheart."
"Thanks," I said. In an hour, I would need to demorph. Better leave some extra time on the side.
I fell asleep.
And I ended my life.
.
.
.
A mosquito bit through my dreams. I slapped at my arm, and rolled over. A few seconds later, it was there again, biting me. Again, I slapped it. But it had brought company. I felt other stings on my skin. I tried to ignore them. Tried to get back to the dreams I'd been having about flying with Tobias. Such a nice dream. Maybe tomorrow, I could go flying with him. Nothing but he and I. Feathers, wind, and spirit. I tried to keep dreaming. But it was no good. I was awake.
I stood up quickly, shaking the insects off me. Why were my arms brown? Had I been in the sun that long? No, wait. I had morphed Cassie. I was covering for her while she was at that lecture. I remembered.
I rubbed my eyes, and got my bearings. Cassie's mom and dad had apparently decided to join me in my nap. They lay next to each other on the picnic blanket, smiling peacefully in the late afternoon sun.
Hang on . . . late afternoon?
I looked down at my watch. Four o'clock. When had I fallen asleep? I couldn't remember.
Oh, no.
I looked down at Cassie's parents. They were fast asleep. I decided to take the chance and demorph there. It was a minor enough morph that they wouldn't be woken up, and I didn't know that I had time to run for the trees. I pictured myself, and concentrated.
Rachel. Rachel. Blond hair. White skin.
I looked down at my arms. Brown skin. Oh, no.
Rachel. Tall. Blonde hair.
I stayed the same sight. I tugged at my hair, but it was still short, still black, still wound in thick, natural curls. No. No, no.
Rachel! My heart began to pound. Where were the changes beginning? I had to be changing! I felt my face. Waited for the shift in the shape that I knew had to come. Nothing. I could only feel Cassie's face under my brown fingers.
"Rachel!" I whispered, my voice – no, Cassie's voice – hoarse from sleep and emotion. I cleared my throat. "Rachel!" I repeated.
I shut my eyes tight. Pictured myself. Concentrated. An instant headache exploded as I bent all my will to concentration. Rachel. Rachel. I had to go back to being Rachel.
I opened my eyes. I looked down at myself.
Cassie.
I was still Cassie.
"No," I whispered. "Rachel! No! Rachel! RACHEL!" My voice rose into a hysterical scream. "RACHEL!!"
"Cassie! Cassie, what's wrong, what's the matter!?" Cassie's parents were up in a flash, closing in on me. "What about Rachel? Cassie, baby, are you all right? Cassie, look at me! Cassie, I'm here! Look at me!"
"RACHEL!" I screamed. "NO! RACHEL!!"
But I was Cassie.
I wasn't Rachel.
And I never would be again.
"RACHEL!!"
Cassie's mom and I exchanged a grin. We listened eagerly as "Dad" waxed eloquent about the food. It was an old family tradition I had witnessed many times before, but it was always different, and always entertaining.
"I mean, we didn't just cover the five major food groups, here. We covered all fifteen minor food groups. We delved into food groups that are generally reserved for God's own angels. I don't know what you two did in the kitchen, but I know there was something supernatural at work, because that pumpkin pie was outside of anything mortal man was meant to enjoy."
We laughed. "Keep this up, sugar," said Cassie's mom. "I'm liking this."
He sat up, glad for his favorite audience. "I mean, can we just talk about the potatoes? We had sweet potatoes, we had mashed potatoes, we had baked and scalloped potatoes. We had french fries, we had potato salad, we had potato chips. We had every form of potatoes imaginable, and each one was a symphony on the tongue. And let's not forget, ladies, that potatoes have got to be the most boring food in the world! Now, about that meat you cooked, baby . . ."
I closed my eyes, listening to "Dad's" warm, laughing voice. He went on for a long time like that. Then he said that he needed dessert, and he and Cassie's mom were quiet for a little while. I wasn't paying much attention. I was so full. Given that I wouldn't gain weight in morph, I had eaten a more than I normally would have. I didn't want to move. The spring sunshine had warmed the blanket, and I felt heavy peace press gently down on me.
I made an effort to move my lips. "Hey, Mrs . . ." I caught myself. "Mom?"
There was a pause, then, laughingly, "Yes, Miss Cassie?"
"Wake me up in half an hour, okay?"
"Sure, sweetheart."
"Thanks," I said. In an hour, I would need to demorph. Better leave some extra time on the side.
I fell asleep.
And I ended my life.
.
.
.
A mosquito bit through my dreams. I slapped at my arm, and rolled over. A few seconds later, it was there again, biting me. Again, I slapped it. But it had brought company. I felt other stings on my skin. I tried to ignore them. Tried to get back to the dreams I'd been having about flying with Tobias. Such a nice dream. Maybe tomorrow, I could go flying with him. Nothing but he and I. Feathers, wind, and spirit. I tried to keep dreaming. But it was no good. I was awake.
I stood up quickly, shaking the insects off me. Why were my arms brown? Had I been in the sun that long? No, wait. I had morphed Cassie. I was covering for her while she was at that lecture. I remembered.
I rubbed my eyes, and got my bearings. Cassie's mom and dad had apparently decided to join me in my nap. They lay next to each other on the picnic blanket, smiling peacefully in the late afternoon sun.
Hang on . . . late afternoon?
I looked down at my watch. Four o'clock. When had I fallen asleep? I couldn't remember.
Oh, no.
I looked down at Cassie's parents. They were fast asleep. I decided to take the chance and demorph there. It was a minor enough morph that they wouldn't be woken up, and I didn't know that I had time to run for the trees. I pictured myself, and concentrated.
Rachel. Rachel. Blond hair. White skin.
I looked down at my arms. Brown skin. Oh, no.
Rachel. Tall. Blonde hair.
I stayed the same sight. I tugged at my hair, but it was still short, still black, still wound in thick, natural curls. No. No, no.
Rachel! My heart began to pound. Where were the changes beginning? I had to be changing! I felt my face. Waited for the shift in the shape that I knew had to come. Nothing. I could only feel Cassie's face under my brown fingers.
"Rachel!" I whispered, my voice – no, Cassie's voice – hoarse from sleep and emotion. I cleared my throat. "Rachel!" I repeated.
I shut my eyes tight. Pictured myself. Concentrated. An instant headache exploded as I bent all my will to concentration. Rachel. Rachel. I had to go back to being Rachel.
I opened my eyes. I looked down at myself.
Cassie.
I was still Cassie.
"No," I whispered. "Rachel! No! Rachel! RACHEL!" My voice rose into a hysterical scream. "RACHEL!!"
"Cassie! Cassie, what's wrong, what's the matter!?" Cassie's parents were up in a flash, closing in on me. "What about Rachel? Cassie, baby, are you all right? Cassie, look at me! Cassie, I'm here! Look at me!"
"RACHEL!" I screamed. "NO! RACHEL!!"
But I was Cassie.
I wasn't Rachel.
And I never would be again.
"RACHEL!!"