Lori was plopped down on the couch, tuning into her favorite show.
"Will Marcy say yes? Find out now on Los Angels!"
She groaned thinking about the commercials that have flooded the Bizney Channel this past week. She was prepared for the mushy, annoying scenes they promised, but banked on the hope that Marcy, her favorite character, would stay true to herself; a fashionista with a joke to quip and too good to fall in love.
As the Los Angels theme song played, Lori's dad came in, carrying the infant Lynn.
"Hey Lori. I'm gonna start making supper. Could you keep an eye on Lynn while I do that?"
"But dad," she moaned, "I'm watching my show!"
Lynn Sr. then placed the baby on the soft couch, besides Lori.
"Please," he said, "she can just sit next to you and you could watch your show together. How does that sound?"
Lori sighed.
"Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes. That'll give you two plenty of time to see everything you want."
Before she could reply, her dad retreated into the kitchen. By then, the theme song was finished and the show began. Lori did her best to pay attention, but Lynn was trying to climb up her arm.
"Lynn! No!"
She didn't stop. She started trying harder, pulling Lori's shoulder down. Unable to ignore the situation, she broke away from the screen to see Lynn's eyes burning with desire.
"Lynn!" she said, trying to pry the little hands off her body, "You can't do that! Keep your hands off!"
Lori turned back to the screen and tried to concentrate. The current scene was one that was played in all the commercials: Josh flirting with Marcy. It annoyed Lori to no end, especially now having to see the same dialogue, same acting, and same framing playing for what felt like the hundredth time at this point. She then got an idea of how to get through it.
"So, Lynn," she said, painting a grin on her face, "You haven't seen this show before."
Lynn sat there with an open-mouthed smile and her head turned away.
"Well today's your lucky day. Now," she said, lifting Lynn and placing her on her lap, "This is called Los Angels and it's your big sister's favorite show. You see that girl with the really nice and shiny brown hair?"
She grabbed Lynn's hand and used it to point at the character on the TV screen.
"Her name is Marcy and she is the good girl. You like her. Now do you see that gross boy talking to her?"
Lori pulled her baby sister's arm to the right. Lynn, hating the fast movement, tried jerking away from her mighty grasp, but it was of no use.
"That joker is Josh. He's rude and he's mean and he smells. He's bad and you can't stand him," she said. Lori then peered down to see Lynn using her free hand to pick her nose, "Hey pay attention!"
She paused to give her sister time to stop distracting herself. All the while, the scene continued. Josh pulled out a box of chocolates and offered it to Marcy. Marcy, being a helpless chocoholic, accepted the box and smiled.
"Oh come on!" Lori exclaimed.
"Is everything okay in there?" Lynn Sr. asked from the kitchen.
"Yes, Daddy."
Without even checking to see if Lynn was paying attention, Lori continued as she watched the episode unfold.
"Now here's the crummy part. Marcy doesn't like Josh, which is the right thing. Marcy also doesn't like falling in love because that's gross. She doesn't like watching grown ups kissing and stuff. But Josh right there thinks that he can change her mind and make her fall in love with him. And she's fallen right into a trap. Chocolates!"
Lori looked back down to see Lynn lying on her legs, her eyes missing the screen. Seeing this, she sighed.
"Why aren't you watching? Don't you feel mad at Josh? Don't you want Marcy to find her way out of this?"
Lynn just rested, her innocent mind in a world of its own. Once again, Lori sighed. Rather than trying again,she just resumed watching the episode by herself. To her, that's how it was originally going to be. But then, why didn't she feel anything? No anger at Josh, no hope for Marcy, no attachment to anything. The glass screen separating the two worlds was well-defined.
"I wish Emily were here. This night was gonna be perfect. Sleepover and snacks and everything."
As those thoughts made their course, Lori did start to feel something. A headache.
"Stupid Mom and stupid doctors and stupid brother. Isn't five kids enough?!"
The throbbing pain persisted. She took several deep breaths in an attempt to alleviate it, but they did little to help.
The show cut to a commercial break, leaving Lori alone with herself and her two-year-old sister. Finding none of the ads interesting, she dropped her head to her sister, who looked unusually calm. Most of the time, Lynn was either whacking one of her toys or trying to climb something; she had even become proficient at walking. Sure, there were times during the day where the baby got tired, but she was almost never lying on her knees.
Despite the heartwarming sight, Lori barely cracked a smile. She made sure to remain still and occasionally stroked her sister's brown hair.
"It's fine. You can just rest right there. Don't worry about the show."
Before turning back to her show, Lori gave her sister another gentle rub and said,
"I love you."
Leni and Mrs. Boxer, a short elderly woman, were seating at a small round table. Upon its surface were flashcards, books, paper, and pencils. The room they were in was compact and windowless; to make up for this, the white walls were laden with colorful posters with children and animals on them. Also adorning these decorations were reminders written in bubbly letters about personal space, eye contact, appropriate conversation, and figures of speech.
"Okay, very good Leni," Mrs. Boxer said as she slid away some papers and summoned some flashcards, "Now, I will show you some faces and I want you to tell me how that person is feeling."
Leni merely shrugged as she eyed the teacher. Her eyes froze in place as she was revealed the first card. It was a color drawing of a face whose lips were curved downwards and had a tear streaming down his cheek.
"How do you think this person is feeling?"
She sat there, not sure at first. To her, the answer was nothing because no face was there. Leni then thought it was how she herself was feeling, but she couldn't quite put that to words—she didn't sense any wave of emotion flooding her mind. What resulted from all this was a long silence.
"Is this person smiling?" Mrs. Boxer asked, tracing the drawing with her finger, "Is he laughing?"
Realizing her focus, she directed her attention to the drawing itself. It didn't take long for her to reach one conclusion.
"...No..." she said, twiddling her thumbs.
"What is the person doing? Does he look mad? Or is he sad?"
Once more, Leni sat there and thought it through. She wasn't sure if it were anger, but that was a feeling she couldn't wrap her head around. To her, she couldn't understand why anyone, let alone a simple drawing, would feel that way. This left sadness. She had to work it out, searching for what she knew about it. And then she remembered what happened to Littlefoot's mom. The memory was too detached to make her well up, but she did recall the feeling of tears breaking free from her eyes.
"He's...sad..." she finally said.
"That's right," Mrs. Boxer replied, casting a rewarding grin and using her finger once more to articulate the drawing's details,"This boy is crying and he is not smiling. That means he's sad. And if you see someone that is sad, what do you do?"
There was a pause. Leni then leaned towards the picture with her arms extended.
"Hugging is one thing you can do. What else could you do?"
Leni froze. Her arms bent as they remained there with no certain target. She started staring at the white tiles on the floor with her mouth open. But words could not be found.
"You could ask him why he is sad," Mrs. Boxer said. Leni, however, didn't change her position, "Uh...Leni. Could you please look up at me? It's good to look others in the eye when they are talking to you."
Allowing the instructions to flow into her ears, Leni rolled her back up into a proper sitting position and stared at Mrs. Boxer.
"Very good. If someone is sad, you could ask him why he is feeling that way. He could be sad because he dropped his ice cream, or maybe he fell down and got hurt."
Leni listened to her teacher; her eyes didn't even dare to move.
"Well..." she then said, "um...did he fall down?"
"Yes. Let's say that this boy was running on the playground and he fell down. His knee hurts and now he is sad and he starts crying," Mrs. Boxer said. She then handed the flash card to Leni, who then held it with an awkward grip, "What do you do?"
Leni was now eyeing the card, absorbing its various features. Instinctively, she pulled it into her chest and started swaying in her chair.
"Okay, now the next thing to do is find a teacher and tell her that the boy is hurt."
It took her a moment to register that comment. She then stopped rocking and looked back up at Mrs. Boxer with an uncertain look.
"Okay. I'm the teacher," Mrs. Boxer said, pointing her fingers at herself, "Leni, do you want to tell me something?"
Leni's eyes fell to the floor.
"Uh...Mrs...Boxer,"
"Remember to look at the person you are talking to," she reminded.
She then lifted her head, however nothing was said for several seconds.
"He is sad...he uh...fell down and...he's crying."
"Thank you for telling me Leni. I will take him to the nurse's office," she replied. She then lowered her hands, "Very good, Leni. You are getting better every day."
Mrs. Boxer then cast a smile at her, but she wasn't compelled to mirror the expression.
"That's all we have to do today. Let's walk back to Mrs. Egan's, shall we?"
Mrs. Boxer then put her things away and got up. Leni silently followed her.
"It sounds like you are having a lot of fun with Mrs. Egan," she said, trying to get a conversation going, "What made you the most happy in class this week?"
Leni walked by her side, trying to think of something spectacular. After briefly brimming through the things that happened, something came to mind.
"...I saw a kid...he was coloring a picture...of Ducky and I...said 'Yup yup yup'," she said, smirking a little. She even propped her arms in her 'Ducky pose' as she strolled along.
Mrs. Boxer chuckled at the sight.
"I'm happy that you are being yourself, Leni. Kids like it when you show them who you are. Do you know anyone that likes Land Before Time?"
"No," she replied, "they don't talk about it or play about it...or color it. They like other things."
"What do the other kids talk about?"
Leni concentrated on what she remembered from class. Her strides noticeably became uneven at some points, but she was able to redirect herself when she was on the verge of stumbling.
"Uh..." she said as she continued to think, "They like...um...toys."
"You like toys. And there's lots of them in Mrs. Egan's room. Maybe you could ask someone to play with you."
"Maybe..." she said cheerfully, although she wasn't thinking about the prospect; it seemed too distant for her to grasp.
Eventually, the two wound up at the appropriate door.
"Well, here we are," Mrs. Boxer said, smiling, "Thank you so much for another great day. I will see you again next week."
"Sure..." she said, still holding her pose.
And with that, Leni re-entered the room. The kids were all making their way to the cupboard full of blue mats.
"Leni," Mrs. Egan said with her trademark grin, "Did you have a good time with Mrs. Boxer?"
"Yes," she said, motivated largely from the energy she felt from talking about Ducky.
"That's wonderful," the teacher said. She then leaned towards the cupboard, directing Leni's vision, "The others are getting ready for nap time. You should get your mat."
Without any verbal acknowledgment, she moved to the shelf, nudged herself past the other waiting kids, and dragged one for herself. While still gripping the mat, Leni made her way to the toy cabinet and pulled out Blacky; such was her ritual at nap time. She found an open space on the floor and let go of the mat, letting it slide across the tiles. She slowly got down and rested herself on the foam surface. She curled herself around the plushie, as if it were big enough to be a blanket. Her mind cleared and she slipped into sleep.