Part III
Chapter Two

After passing Foster's Terrence entered into what appeared to be a pretty upscale neighborhood; the houses were large and the yards were well-manicured. Every home was surrounded by a gated fence, much as Foster's was, and positively every yard sported an advertisement for one home security system or another. Fancy.

The house that matched Reese's address was one of the grandest on the street, and it sat on its own little hill. Terrence climbed the steps formed in concrete that led to the front gate. When he got there he was faced with a speaker that had buttons underneath it, and a sign that read: Press 99 for deliveries. Reese had told him to press star, so he did, after checking that he was on time (he was).

"Yes?" a male voice blurted from the speaker.

Terrence felt like he was in a movie. An insane notion screamed at him to yell "I've come for your daughter!" at the speaker but he chickened out and instead only said, "Reese invited me." He didn't want the dogs to be released on his account.

The gate clicked. "Come in, Terrence," replied the voice, and the speaker went silent. Terrence pushed open the gate and ventured onto the property, the gate swinging closed behind him.

It was the point of no return.

Terrence walked up the long winding path to the front door, taking note of the flowers and rose bushes along the way. Mom would kill for a yard like this, he thought. Years ago, when Mom and Dad were still together, they had all lived in a house, and Mom had had a rose garden. She still kept miniature rose bushes in pots on the patio but it couldn't possibly be the same thing.

A smiling man with greying brown hair met Terrence at the front door, introduced himself as Alexander (his had been the voice on the speaker outside), and ushered the boy into a parlor that vied with the one at Foster's for size, but won flat-out in decor. The d'Etiennes were, without a doubt, very well-off.

Reese came skipping down the stairs, clad in an Ataris t-shirt and jean shorts. Her hair was royal purple today. "Hi, Terrence! Thanks Alexander!" she declared before seizing the boy by one wrist and hauling him back up the stairs with her.

Terrence tugged on Reese's arm so she glanced around at him. They were now ascending a second flight of stairs. "Um, where are we going?" he asked her.

Reese grinned mysteriously back at him and kept right on going. At last they burst into a huge room with giant picture windows all along two walls; they were at a corner of the house. The entire floor was covered with clear plastic tarpaulin, and the smell of turpentine hung in the air. Shelves and cupboards and rolling trolleys contained paints and brushes and jars and tins, and full-sized paint cans were stacked against one wall. A ten-foot-long, clean canvas stood on a series of easels in the middle of the room. It was Reese's personal art studio. Terrence was jealous.

"This is awesome!" he yelled, dropping his duffel bag with a thump, as Reese turned on him triumphantly. He went to a stack of canvases leaning against the remaining wall and started leafing through them. All of these paintings were abstract; Terrence wasn't much on art and his prevailing thought was that they looked like they had been fun to do. He looked up when Reese came up behind him rifling through the contents of his bag.

"Go get changed," she said, thrusting the awful yellow shirt at him. The girl certainly never skirted around an issue.

Terrence changed his clothes in the bathroom connected to the studio and he came back out to see Reese opening the last of the large cans of paint.

"What are those for?" he asked her.

"Put your glasses away," she said.

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

Terrence returned to the bathroom, put his glasses on the counter, and returned to the studio. "What are those for?" he asked her again.

Reese beamed at him. "Let's paint," she said.

"Oh...okay," Terrence said, figuring that would be cool. "Where are the brushes?"

Still beaming at him, Reese dipped her left arm into a can of bright yellow paint.

"Ah," said Terrence. When Reese ran to the canvas he shrugged and grabbed a handful of green paint with his right hand and some orange with his left. But when he got to the canvas Reese turned to him and smeared yellow paint on his face. As his own hands were full Terrence could only stand there in surprise until she was satisfied and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"The canvas not good enough for you?" he asked in confusion.

"No." She stood there making faces at him until he finally figured out what she expected. He threw the orange paint first and it spattered all over her t-shirt. Squealing, she grabbed his right arm and tried to make him get the green paint on himself; he fought her and won and spread it into her hair instead. In moments the room and its contents was subjected to gobs of multicolored paint as the kids ran around flinging it at each other.

Reese had Terrence in a half Nelson and was liberally applying bright pink paint to his hair when a large portly man with fair hair and apple-like cheeks appeared in the doorway, greatly pleased with the scene before him. Terrence had just managed to twist free a moment after the newcomer arrived and had grabbed Reese around the middle to drag her over to a can of paint so he could dunk her head in it when the man burst into laughter and he dropped the girl in surprise. She missed the paint but knocked the can over; Terrence stepped backwards, eyeing the man suspiciously, stepped in the puddle of paint, slipped and fell hard on his rear end.

The man laughed again. "So, you are Terrence?" he boomed in a hearty French accent, striding forward and seizing Terrence by one arm. He hauled the boy to his feet with as much ease as if the teen weighed mere ounces. "Joyeux anniversaire!" he exclaimed, slapping the boy on the back and in the same motion catching him before he could topple over from the impact. "I am so glad you could come to visit us today. "Salut, Cerise," he greeted his daughter, who bounded over with a "Bonjour, Papa." "So," Monsieur d'Etienne went on before Terrence could say anything, "we swim, then lunch, eh?" One more pound on the back and Monsieur d'Etienne walked out of the room.

Reese looked at Terrence, who was standing there a bit overwhelmed. "That was my Papa," she said needlessly. "He likes you."

"That's good," Terrence replied. "I thought he was going to use me as a punching bag."

Reese laughed. "That's just what he does when he likes someone. Let's get cleaned up and go swimming."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Terrence used the shower in the studio bathroom while Reese went to use another one elsewhere in the house. He washed as fast as humanly possible, aware that he was using a girl's shower, and all that implied. He put on his swimtrunks and clean t-shirt and allowed a maid (a maid! A real maid!) to direct him out to the back yard where he found Monsieur d'Etienne already in the pool and Reese waiting for him. Fae and Adagio were sunbathing on the deck, and were soon joined by Madame d'Etienne who didn't utter a syllable to Terrence for the duration of the day.

Terrence, Reese, and her father swam for over an hour. Monsieur d'Etienne, who insisted that Terrence call him Rey, seemed like a really nice guy. He laughed at all of Terrence's lame jokes and cheered loudly when the boy deliberately bellyflopped off of the diving board to get Fae wet. Lunch, a platter of fancy sandwiches, was pretty nice too. Afterwords Terrence and Reese went back upstairs to play with the girl's computer (which was a pretty sweet setup). At about three Terrence had to say goodbye, and after Alexander let him out, started walking back towards the apartment.

A little old lady emerged from a small upscale corner store just as Terrence was passing it; she used a cane and was having trouble balancing her single bag of groceries with her other arm. In a good mood, Terrence asked if she needed help and she accepted with a "What a nice thoughtful young man you are."

"Yes Ma'am," he simpered in response. He was good at buttering up to grown-ups; you never knew when it would pay off to be in an adult's good graces.

But when the lady led him right to the front gates of Foster's and entered the property Terrence gave up the act. "Oh, no way am I going in there," he blurted, thrusting the bag at the lady.

The lady, instead of becoming angry with him, just turned to him and smiled. "Why Terrence, I'm surprised at you," she said mildly. "And after Mac invited you to our picnic today - and it being your birthday and all. My granddaughter made you a coconut cream pie from scratch, you know."

Terrence stood there, holding out the bag and staring. "Wh - Wha...How did - "

"I recognized you," Madame Foster told him with a flippant wave. "You were here every day for a whole week a few months ago. It was very responsible of you to come and take care of your brother's imaginary friend for him while he was ill."

"But," said Terrence, lowering the bag at last. "I never saw you. Who are you?"

"I'm Madame Foster. This is my house." Madame Foster grinned. "I couldn't help but notice you, you were running all over the place like a caged rat." She burst out laughing and elbowed Terrence in the shin. "That Bloo, he really yanks one's chain, doesn't he?"

So, this was that loonybin reject who wasted all her time and money on imaginary friends. Terrence peered down at her. Obviously a crackpot eccentric. Being able to pass as a sweet old lady was a nice touch.

Madame Foster turned and continued down the front walk towards the house. "You can take that bag to the kitchen for me, thank you, you're a nice boy," the lady was saying casually, apparently completely expecting Terrence to follow her obediently. Instead he stood just outside the gate, hesitant. She stopped and looked back at him.

Terrence set the bag down on the sidewalk. "Keep your weird house and all those imaginary losers," he told her stubbornly. He wanted to add, "And you can keep my stupid brother too," but he decided to skip that comment and instead stalked off towards the apartment.

With a patient sigh, Madame Foster retrieved her groceries and went inside.