"Siroc, what do you think you're doing?" Jacqueline yelled at the miniaturized inventor. He stood poised over his work table, a stool under his feet to allow him to actually see over it. A smoking beaker sat on the table, a horrible smell of rotting eggs emitting from it, and in Siroc's hand, a glass of light green liquid was about to be poured into it.
"I'm just mixing a solution of copper with a solution of heated sulfur. Don't worry, I've done it before." Siroc tried to calm her as his hand moved closed to the beaker of haze.
"Oh no you don't, not while I'm in charge. This is really dangerous. What if you end up blowing us all up one day?" Jacqueline yanked the glass of green liquid away and set it down carefully on the table. "Now, go do your chores like I asked you to. And no more mixtures until you're back to normal. Then it's your own fault, I don't have to watch you anymore."
"Yes Ma'am," Siroc muttered, giving her a glare. Since when did she get all high and mighty?
"Mama, Mama." Ramon ran into the room, hugging Jacqueline around the ankles.
"Ramon, what have I told you about calling me 'mama'?" Jacqueline kneeled down to look Ramon in the eye.
"It's bad," he replied quietly.
"Yes, it is. Now -" Before Jacqueline could finish her thought, D'Artagnan burst into the room, brandishing a sword nearly as tall as him.
"Ha, I am D'Artagnan! None can defeat me!" He boasted, and nearly fell over as his sword began to fall, carrying him with its weight.
"Oh great D'Artagnan, teach me how to fight like you!" Jacqueline mocked him in a high pitched voice. "Now, what did I tell you about fighting?" She glared as he stood with both hands on the hilt, barely able to keep it upright in his scrawny, little kid arms.
"I don't care what you said, you're not the boss of me."
"Oh yes, I am. Until you're back to your annoying adult self, Captain Duval doesn't want a peep out of you three. That means I am in charge of you, meaning you'll do as I say." Jacqueline towered above the boy, both hands on her hips, and stared down at him.
"Or what? You'll spank me?" D'Artagnan looked at her like she wouldn't dare hurt him.
"Maybe. Or maybe I'll just tell Constance about Marguerite." Jacqueline smirked. D'Artagnan had seemed genuinely interested in Constance, and would have been very upset if she had learned about his "close friendship" with Marguerite. D'Artagnan just glared at her, his hands now on his hips as well as though to counter Jacqueline's stance.
"Fine, mother. You win this battle Jacqueline. But I promise, you won't win the war!" D'Artagnan yelled and stalked off.
Jacqueline rolled her eyes at him. "Boys," she muttered.
"Mama, can't sweep." Ramon entered her room that night, clutching a blanket and sucking on his thumb yet again.
"What's wrong?" Jacqueline turned toward the toddler.
"Monster!" Ramon said gravely.
"Come on up here. Let me tell you about monsters." Jacqueline pulled the boy up into her bed. She set him down as a clap of thunder rolled through the garrison.
"Scawy," Ramon whispered, cuddling closer to Jacqueline.
"Monsters can't hurt you, and neither can -" Jacqueline stopped at the knock on her door.
"Come in," she beckoned, not surprised when D'Artagnan and Siroc opened the door.
"We thought you might like - some protection," D'Artagnan said, very quickly. Siroc nodded his head gravely. Just then, there was another thunder clap. In unison, Siroc and D'Artagnan ran toward the bed and slipped in on either side of her and Ramon.
"As I was just telling Ramon, thunder can't hurt you. It's very simple. Thunder is just the angels playing drums. They're making music, if you just listen." Jacqueline smiled as all three boys lifted their heads and strained their ears to hear it. The soft pattering of the rain and the rushing wind made a sweet melody, while the thunder kept the beat steady.
"I can hear it," Siroc announced, proud of his accomplishment.
"I heard it first," D'Artagnan boasted.
"No, I did."
"I did."
"I did!"
"It doesn't matter who heard it first. Now, do you three want to hear my monster story, or not?" Jacqueline asked.
"Monsters scawy," Ramon whispered into Jacqueline's arm.
"No, they're not. When I was little, my mother told me a story all about them. It goes like this:
"One day, a little boy lay in bed, all tucked in nice and cozy. But he was scared. He was sure there was a monster under his bed that would come up and eat him the moment he fell asleep. His parents insisted there was no such thing as monsters, but the little boy's friend had seen a monster himself, so they must be real. His eyes were so heavy, but he couldn't fall asleep. If he did, the monster would get him. Just as the boy was about to fall asleep, he heard heavy breathing coming from under his bed. He was instantly awake, laying completely still, hoping the monster would go away. But the breathing just got louder and louder, and closer and closer. Finally, the breathing was right next to him. The boy couldn't take it anymore. He turned his head slightly to the right, and screamed.
"'Oh, please don't hurt me,' The monster said, almost crying. 'I don't want to get eaten.'
"'Why would I want to eat you? You're the one who wants to eat me,'" The little boy asked the monster.
"'Eat a little boy? That's just gross. Who'd want to eat a thing like you? I'd much rather prefer a nice, warm loaf of bread.' The monster was disgusted at the idea that he would eat a boy.
"'I like bread too. Especially right after mama takes it out of the stove.' The boy sat up, surveying the monster. 'You know, you're not as scary as I thought you'd be.'
"'And you're not as scary as I thought you'd be,' The monster replied. The boy smiled, and the monster returned the gesture.
"So, you see, the moral is that you have to experience something first, to know if it's scary or not," Jacqueline supplied, but it fell upon deaf ears. The three boys were fast asleep, cuddled closely to her.
"Goodnight boys," Jacqueline whispered, and settled down to sleep.
"Siroc, hurt me," Ramon whispered to the sleeping lump on him. The older boy didn't stir at all. Ramon finally wiggled out from under him. Then, in the light of the pre-dawn morning, the toddler went to explore. Unfortunately for him, the garrison door was left wide open and inviting.