A/N -- Really? No reviews for the first chapter? What happened? Did I do something wrong? Do you not like the story? What is it?
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
After some time, in which he was in a sort of stupor, he decided that it was time to get up off of the table.
He tested out his arms and legs; they seemed to be working all right. His first attempt at climbing to the floor resulted in a worming motion, so that he was half-hanging off of the table on his stomach. Slowly, patiently, he lowered himself to the floor.
Standing now, he swayed unsteadily on his feet. The trick would be figuring out how to walk, and then using it to navigate out of the room. Hesitantly, he guided one foot forward. Then he lifted his other foot and placed it in front of the first. In this way, he tottered towards the door. Admittedly, there have been toddlers who walked more gracefully than he did, but for him this was a real accomplishment.
The door certainly looked rather big and heavy, but it glided open as soon as he pushed on it. His arms extended like a gymnast's on a balance beam, he shuffled down a bright and ornate hallway, in search of the Other Mother.
There were voices coming from the room at the end of the hall:
"Mother, where is that boy you made?" A man said this.
"Patience, pumpkin. He's resting. He should be here soon." This was the Other Mother, he reflected.
"But Coraline will be here any minute!" exclaimed the man's voice.
"I know, I know. He'll be ready, so don't worry so much. Now, why don't you go out and prepare the garden for – "
He popped his head in through the entrance then. The Other Mother sat around a small kitchen table with the man he had heard. The man had a narrow face, but it was optimistic and pleasant. He wore loudly patterned pajamas and a funny little outdoor hat. "Ah, there you are!" exclaimed the man.
"Wybie, this is the Other Father," smiled the Other Mother. "Father, this is the Other Wybie."
He staggered a little further into the kitchen. "How ya doin', kiddo?" the Other Father greeted him, rumpling his curls. He smiled bashfully in response. The Other Father laughed. "What? Cat got your tongue?"
"Don't fluster the poor dear," scolded the Other Mother, shooing the Other Father away. "And he can't speak. I didn't give him a voice."
"No voice?" repeated the Other Father, surprised. His half-moon glasses bounced over his button eyes, finally settling on that great beak of a nose.
"No," confirmed the Other Mother. "I think Coraline will like him better that way, don't you?"
"I suppose," admitted the Other Father. "You know her better than I do, Mother."
"Of course I do," the Other Mother purred.
He looked back and forth, caught between the two adults, unable to follow either half of the conversation. The Other Mother pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Now, I do think that you're being very rude to Wybie, darling. We have to explain to him what it is we're doing – otherwise, he'll be of no help to us at all."
"Oh, silly me!" the Other Father scolded himself. "Very well, then. Would you like to start, Mother?"
"I would indeed." The Other Mother settled herself comfortably in the wooden chair, beaming at him. "The reason why I made you, dear," she began, "is because I need your help. You see, there is a girl named Coraline, who lives in another world connected to this one. She's not happy there. Her parents and neighbors neglect and ignore her. She's being cast aside as if she was nothing. But she's not nothing. You're going to meet her soon, dear, and I'm sure you'll agree that she's really something."
He listened raptly, trying will all his efforts to follow here.
"We need to convince her to stay here," the Other Mother continued. "It shouldn't be too hard. You're going to help us with it. You'll meet Coraline, and when you do, act just as you are now – quiet and sweet." A small pink tongue darted over her lips. "I always pride myself in giving better homes to such abandoned children."
It did seem to be a noble cause. He was newly created, custom-made, but he wasn't stupid. He realized that he had been created for this mysterious Coraline, and to please her – that was his purpose.
His purpose. He liked it even more than his name. He now had something to do. He would apply himself completely to doing it.
