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Toy Story: Mister Spaceman

Chapter 9: The Eagle Has Landed

Oh Joshua, turn me now, so that this fire within me may be quenched. Let us run together, human and beast alike, be it under the full moon, or the blazing sun. Its fire only matched by our love for each-

"Molly, get the hell down here!"

Molly Davis, lying on her bed and reading her book, let out a groan. Not one of pleasure, as Cassandra had on more than one occasion, but of frustration. She was on the final book of Sunrise, and Cassandra was pleading for Joshua to turn her into a werewolf, so that they could run free together, away from the ghouls and zombies. Shireen had told her (almost falling into spoilers) that things got pretty juicy in the next few chapters, and she really wanted to finish this section.

"Molly!"

But alas, that wasn't happening. It was November 25th, which meant it was Thanksgiving. Because it was Thanksgiving, her mother got into the same frenzy that she always did – doing everything from baking potatoes, to buying wine, to cooking poor innocent birds. And because it was Thanksgiving, that meant her brother was coming home. And because of that, her mother was-

Oh no.

Stomping up the stairs, like a Pilgrim on the warpath. Not bringing pestilence, but certainly bringing war. She scrambled up, tried to find a bookmark, but-

"Molly!"

It was too late, as her mother burst into the room. Gazing upon it like some kind of Greek goddess – books off the shelves, clothes in a pile, music from 4town blaring away, those hunks telling their audience how much they loved them. On a good day, Molly could lay back on her bed, put on some earphones, and imagine one of those hunks in her room with her. Looking at her like Joshua did Cassandra…under the moon, lying in the grass…

"For goodness sake…"

Alas, it wasn't a good day. And as her mum tore the book from her hands and tossed it into the corner, it became a bad one.

"I was reading that!"

"Oh yes, I know. You spend more time reading about werewolves and vampires…"

"Zombies!"

"…then your assigned school books!"

"Well mum, I'm sorry I couldn't get into To Kill a Mockingbird, but on the bright side, we're still cooking a dead turkey, so it evens out, right?"

The look on her mother's face told her that it didn't. And that she grabbed a hairbrush and started combing her daughter's hair told her a lot more.

"Molly, I've had it up to here with you. Your brother's going to be here any minute now…"

I know.

"…and I've been making Thanksgiving dinner all day…"

Enough to feed ten families by my count.

"…and all you've done is just lie around, doing nothing!"

"That's not true! I've been doing my homework!"

"Homework? You call vampire books-"

"Zombies!"

"…homework?"

"Hey, I just took a break," Molly said. "You always say that I need to take them and not push too hard."

"I did say that," said her mother, as she opened her daughter's closet and picked out a black dress. "That was before you started reading trash, and listening to trash."

Molly opened her mouth to object. But as her mum turned the radio off, and handed her the dress, she realized that she couldn't push any harder. Not the pushing Joshua did with Kirsten under the full moon, as she moaned for him to keep pushing, but the other type of pushing. The type of pushing a sixteen year old girl could do before she brought down the wrath of an angry goddess.

Hera, Molly reflected. Definitely Hera.

"Now put this on."

"Mum, that makes me look like I'm dressing up for a funeral."

"Molly Davis, if you don't make yourself presentable right now, you will be at a funeral!"

Eris, she reflected, as she put the dress on. Or Persephone. I'm certainly in Hell at least.

Under normal circumstances, she could put the dress on in five seconds. Under her mother's constant nagging however, it took five minutes. Not only did she have to put it on, but she had to have her mother brush her hair, while whining about the ear-studs she'd got last year, and being told she had to wear these ear-rings and not those ear-rings.

Hell, Molly thought. Definitely.

Her mother spun her around so that she could see her reflection in the mirror. Fancy dress (but not too fancy), ear-rings that stood out (but not too much), and hair that was finally combed. In essence, not too different from what she wore with her friends when they wanted to have a night out.

At least she managed to put the iPod in its pocket.

"Now then," said her mum, "doesn't that look better?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "I look like a whore."

For a moment, she was afraid that her mum was going to slap her.

Blimey, she's turning into Athena.

Molly didn't know why she had Greek deities on the brain. Maybe it was because Jack Pearson and the Zodiac had ended, and the author was doing a Greek gods spinoff. Either way, instead of resorting to violence, her mother began to talk. Her voice slow, and low.

"Molly, I know this is hard to do at your age, but listen to me. Five minutes from now, your brother's going to come working from the front door."

Actually more like ten – I bet Andy will be fashionably late.

"He's bringing someone with him."

"Yeah, his girlfriend…" Molly snickered. "Come on, I go through three boys a year, what's so special about this chick?"

"Molly, so help me I…" Her mother sighed, and put her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "Look. Your brother's always been there for you. Sickness, health, birthdays, broken arms, he was there when your fa…when other people weren't."

A needle pricked on the edge of Molly's heart. She knew what her mother was talking about. When Andy had called earlier in the year, something had set her mum off. She'd got an earful for not talking to him, but what had followed were tear-works.

"So for once, could you be there for him?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "Come on, mum…"

"Molly, I know what it's like to be sixteen years old…"

"Yeah, last century."

"…but you're better than this." She tightened her grip on her shoulders. "I need you to be better than this."

Molly wanted to roll her eyes again. Or say something witty. Or do anything to ensure that her mum, tyrant that she was, didn't get the last word. But, alas, she couldn't. Because damn it, she was right. Her big brother had been there for her. Five years separated them, and Andy had had ample opportunities to use size and age to his advantage, but he hadn't. Not once. Even when she'd driven him nuts. And having seen precious little of her elder sibling over the past three years…she had to admit, she missed him. And as hectic as today had been, was partly looking forward to seeing him again.

Partly, Molly reminded herself. She looked at her mother, and sighed. "Okay, mum, I-"

An alarm sounded from the kitchen downstairs.

"Oh no," her mother whispered.

A very loud alarm.

"No no no no no!"

Her mother stormed out of the bedroom like a banshee. And while Sunrise had taught Molly Davis that chasing after banshees was a bad idea (at least if you didn't want your soul sucked out), she rushed out after her. Across the landing, past the stairs, past Buster, asleep on the couch. Into the kitchen, currently filled with smoke coming from the oven.

"Shit," her mother whispered, as she opened the oven door, coughing as she did so. "Shit!"

"Now mum, you really need to watch your language. What would you think if I started to use words like-"

The doorbell rang.

"…shit," Molly whispered.

Her mother looked back at her. Panic visible in her eyes, despite the smoke swirling around them.

"Go get it," she whispered.

"Mum, wasn't he meant to be fashionably late?"

"Molly, I said get it."

"But…mum, I…"

"Molly Davis, answer the door right now!"

There were two fires raging in the kitchen now, and Molly quickly made her way from both of them. Walked to the front door. Towering above her. Like the door to Hell itself, like in that Placid Mountain game.

Maybe it's not Andy, she hoped.

The doorbell rang three times.

Okay, it's definitely Andy.

"Molly!"

"Alright, mum, alright." The teenager took a breath, and grasped the knob of the door. "Sheesh…"

The door opened. Beyond was a dark autumn sky, and lit street lights. But more importantly, in front of her, was a twenty-one year old man, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, and carrying a backpack. In a way, her brother was no different than how he'd left three years ago.

A departure that she remembered as clearly now as she did then.

"Molly," he said.

"Andy," she replied.

He smiled. "Permission to come aboard, ma'am?"

She put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Permission denied. We don't allow dweebs on this ship, and I…" She smiled, unable to play the game any longer, before stepping forward and hugging him.

Hugging him, like she had three years ago, and every year since. Never letting go.

"Always knew you missed me."

"Yeah yeah, suck it up." Molly broke the hug, and wondered if she should invite Andy in. Remembering the smoke from the kitchen, she decided to postpone it. Instead, she asked, "so where's your girlfriend?"

"Molly!"

"What? Is she your girlfriend, or isn't she?"

"She…um…"

"Can I speak?" came a voice.

Was he smiling, Molly wondered? God damn it, he was definitely smiling, as he stood aside, allowing his little sister to see his girlfriend walk up to the door. Same casual wear as him, just with a pink t-shirt rather than a blue one.

Pink. Ugh.

Molly hated pink. Only girls wore pink. Granted, she was a girl, but she wasn't a girl-girl.

"Hello," said the girl-girl. "You must be Andy's sister."

Alas, her brother, dweeb that he was, had fallen for the girl-girl, and as a girl, Molly resigned herself to shake her hand, while mentally kicking herself. With the dress and the ear-rings, she definitely was over-dressed.

"He's told me all about you."

"Oh, really?" Molly asked, looking at her brother. "Good things I hope."

"Oh, honest things. Like the time you wrecked my train set."

"Oh yeah? Says the kid who was gonna take his cowboy doll to college." Molly looked at the girl-girl, and smirked. "Has he told you that he almost took his childhood toy with him?"

"Yes."

"…oh."

There was a few seconds of awkward silence, that was thankfully broken up by her mother arriving. What followed was a few seconds of hugs and kisses, followed by the usual questions ("how are you?" "Did you drive safely?" "What's the traffic like?"), followed by her mum fawning over the girl-girl. Hannah Phillips, Molly recalled. Her brother's first girlfriend, and given the way her mum was dotting on her, a potential sister-in-law.

Ew…

There wasn't anything wrong about her, Molly supposed, but she was so…plain. Her brother had been a mini sports star in high school, so how the heck did he end up with this little fish? Cripes, even Shireen's sister would have been a better catch.

"Molly, why don't you take Hannah into the living room?"

Molly's jaw opened and shut a few times, making her, however briefly, a second fish in the room. Nevertheless, she obliged, and led the little fish into the house, while her brother and mother headed into the kitchen to salvage the turkey.

"Can I get you anything?" Molly asked. "Coke? Ginger ale? Wine?"

"Water, thanks."

"…sure." She rolled her eyes and braved the smoke of Turkey Town. Dweeb.

Still, dweeb or not, Hannah was the girl Andy had brought home with him, so she owed it to her brother to make the most of it. Heck, she could even try giving her some hints on how to pretty herself up.

"Here." She handed Hannah the glass of water, while she sipped the can of coke. The fizz danced on her tongue as she sat down beside Buster, who looked up at his owner, yawned, and lay his head on her leg.

"You had him long?" Hannah asked, sitting on the chair opposite Molly.

"Pardon?"

"Your dog." She gestured at Buster. "Andy's told me a lot about him."

"Oh, Buster. Yeah, fifteen years." She patted the mutt on the head. "Old boy's coming along, aren't you?"

Buster made a grunt. Or a fart. One of those things. An awkward silence filled the room, before Hannah spoke up.

"I had a dog once."

"Really? What happened to it?"

"We had to give him away. Caused a car crash."

"Oh." Molly took a sip of coke. "That sucks."

More silence. More awkwardness. There was the sound of commotion from the kitchen, as her mother and brother enacted the sacred Thanksgiving tradition of nearly killing each other, but thankfully, the door was closed, and it barely reached them. Yet seeing the way Hannah glanced at the door nervously, Molly felt compelled to speak.

"Don't worry about them. Before bedtime, they'll have got the Scrabble set out."

"Right…"

Molly laughed. "Seriously, don't worry about it. Mum can be a bi…a bit angry sometimes, but deep down she's…um…"

"A sweetie?"

"Not the word I'd use, but sure."

Hannah gave a small smile. "Don't worry. I know the word."

Molly tried not to smile back. She knew it was irrational, but this was her house, and her turf, and her brother. If Hannah Phillips wasn't on the level, then so help her, she'd do…something.

"Has Andy told you we used to be neighbours?" Hannah asked.

"Back at Stuart Street?" Molly took another sip of the coke, feigning indifference. "Yeah. Kinda. Barely remember the old house though. Don't remember you at all." She paused. "No offence."

"None taken. I mean, you were one when you left, right? I wouldn't expect you to remember me."

Looking at Hannah, Molly doubted that many people remembered her. She didn't strike her as the kind of girl (or girl-girl) that stood out, but rather the one that stood at the back. Sure, there was some kind of spark inside her…some confidence, as if slowly returning to form…but if it was there, it was small. And yet…

"Ever fancy a trip home?" Molly asked.

"To my old house?" Hannah cradled the glass in her hands. "Funny you asked about that."

"Oh?"

"Andy and I are taking a visit to Stuart Street week." She looked at Molly. "Not for Thanksgiving, but for…family matters, y'know?" She laughed softly. "Or maybe it's a second Thanksgiving…first one for me in a long time…"

Molly didn't. But hearing Hannah's voice, seeing the look in her eyes…she could guess.

"But it might not come to anything," Hannah continued. She looked at Molly. Gave her a sad smile. "Maybe you can't go home again."

Molly bit her lip. She didn't know what Hannah's story was – maybe she'd find out over this Thanksgiving, maybe not. But, for whatever reason, Andy had chosen to be with her. And if this was more than just a thing, and actually a thing, then she supposed it was on her to make the most of it.

"I don't know if you can go home again," Molly whispered. "This place has been my home for as long as I can remember." She patted Buster, as she sipped her coke, and looked around the living room. "But if you can't go home again, then maybe…maybe you don't have to." She looked at Hannah, and smiled. "Maybe you've found a home. With my brother."

Hannah nodded. "I'd like to think so."

She extended her glass of water. And blood being thicker than it or no, Molly extended her coke can. The two clinking against each other. Just before the door to the kitchen burst open, and her brother stumbled out. His face singed, his eyes wide.

"I don't think we're having turkey."

Molly laughed, as Hannah got up and fussed over him. Slowly, silently, took an iPod out of her dress pocket, and pressed play.

Woke up this morning with light in my eyes,

And then realized it was still dark outside.

Molly smiled. The tune had been burnt into her mind over the years. It was a tune that her brother had introduced her to. A tune she had played in the silence of his absence.

And now?

Must be those strangers that come every night,

Whose saucers shaped light put people up tight.

Her brother had returned with a stranger. But it didn't matter.

He was home.

Leave blue green footprints that glow in the dark,

I hope they get home all right.

And now, once again…

She was as well.

Fin