careful not to move about in large packs, the non-psionics among us could come and go during the daytime. The only problem was that no one had any spending money, so movies and recreational pools were out of the question. There was a public park with a sports field that could be used freely, and other Walnut Lane families occasionally invited a few of the kids over for meals and entertainment, but with the summer heating up and few places to go, many of our kids spent the majority of their time at home.
Even so, very few in our house spent their days moping around. Despite (or perhaps because of) the trauma they had suffered, nearly everyone did their best to keep their spirits high. We were all in this together, after all. Either our families and friends would be alive or they wouldn’t. Until we knew for certain, it was pointless to grieve. In the meantime, there was entertainment in the form of television, music, secondhand toys, games and books to keep everyone’s mind off of their worries. Especially the older girls made extra efforts to keep our home a happy place, and thanks to the cheerful mood they often set in the house, even Max slowly started coming out of his shell. I was grateful for everyone’s resilience, which gave me strength in turn. An uninformed visitor probably wouldn’t think that these were kids who had recently been torn from everything they knew.
As the new “baby” of the house, Alia often got preferential treatment, especially from Heather and Candace who absolutely adored the littlest Guardian Knight. My sister seemed to enjoy the extra attention she was getting – up to a point. At least it kept her from her darker thoughts during the daylight hours. But Alia was used to a much quieter life, and I could tell that she sometimes tired of the girls’ lively company. Alia’s main problem wasn’t so much the fact that she was only ten years old but that she looked even younger, and her honorary title didn’t command the same respect that Terry and I enjoyed. No one in our house was ever mindful of Alia’s need for peace and quiet, so I could hardly blame her for wanting to spend a little more time over at Patrick’s. Terry’s idea of law and order was basically the absence of blood on the carpet, so between the boys’ roughhousing and the girls’ constant chatter, our oversized family often turned the place into a semi-madhouse.
But our fun and games were only during the daytimes. Nights were a very different matter. There was something about the darkening of the sky that unlocked the gates of even the strongest hearts to doubt, fear and pain. Just about everyone had periodic nightmares, and Max was by no means the only one who cried in bed.
I could usually tell when someone had a particularly bad night by how much breakfast they ate the next morning. Most of these kids were lifelong Guardians, and before their families moved to New Haven, they had been part of smaller psionic communities just like Walnut Lane. Without their families, however, they were fish out of water, and their strength waxed and waned with the sun and the moon.
As much as I worried about them all, my primary concern was, as always, with Alia.
Candace and Heather often teased my sister about her nighttime attachment to me, but even though Alia was now old enough to be properly embarrassed by it, she still refused their offer to take her into their room. And despite promising to keep to her own side of our queen-size bed, Alia still regularly clung to me at night, which sort of negated the advantage of having a comfortable mattress. Unlike back in New Haven, we didn’t have a dreamweaver here that could help pacify her nightmares, so even when I could get Alia to go to sleep on her own side, if she woke in the middle of the night (which she frequently did), I would invariably wake up the next morning with her arms wrapped around me in a way that guaranteed me a stiff neck and shoulders. My sister, knowing full
Even so, very few in our house spent their days moping around. Despite (or perhaps because of) the trauma they had suffered, nearly everyone did their best to keep their spirits high. We were all in this together, after all. Either our families and friends would be alive or they wouldn’t. Until we knew for certain, it was pointless to grieve. In the meantime, there was entertainment in the form of television, music, secondhand toys, games and books to keep everyone’s mind off of their worries. Especially the older girls made extra efforts to keep our home a happy place, and thanks to the cheerful mood they often set in the house, even Max slowly started coming out of his shell. I was grateful for everyone’s resilience, which gave me strength in turn. An uninformed visitor probably wouldn’t think that these were kids who had recently been torn from everything they knew.
As the new “baby” of the house, Alia often got preferential treatment, especially from Heather and Candace who absolutely adored the littlest Guardian Knight. My sister seemed to enjoy the extra attention she was getting – up to a point. At least it kept her from her darker thoughts during the daylight hours. But Alia was used to a much quieter life, and I could tell that she sometimes tired of the girls’ lively company. Alia’s main problem wasn’t so much the fact that she was only ten years old but that she looked even younger, and her honorary title didn’t command the same respect that Terry and I enjoyed. No one in our house was ever mindful of Alia’s need for peace and quiet, so I could hardly blame her for wanting to spend a little more time over at Patrick’s. Terry’s idea of law and order was basically the absence of blood on the carpet, so between the boys’ roughhousing and the girls’ constant chatter, our oversized family often turned the place into a semi-madhouse.
But our fun and games were only during the daytimes. Nights were a very different matter. There was something about the darkening of the sky that unlocked the gates of even the strongest hearts to doubt, fear and pain. Just about everyone had periodic nightmares, and Max was by no means the only one who cried in bed.
I could usually tell when someone had a particularly bad night by how much breakfast they ate the next morning. Most of these kids were lifelong Guardians, and before their families moved to New Haven, they had been part of smaller psionic communities just like Walnut Lane. Without their families, however, they were fish out of water, and their strength waxed and waned with the sun and the moon.
As much as I worried about them all, my primary concern was, as always, with Alia.
Candace and Heather often teased my sister about her nighttime attachment to me, but even though Alia was now old enough to be properly embarrassed by it, she still refused their offer to take her into their room. And despite promising to keep to her own side of our queen-size bed, Alia still regularly clung to me at night, which sort of negated the advantage of having a comfortable mattress. Unlike back in New Haven, we didn’t have a dreamweaver here that could help pacify her nightmares, so even when I could get Alia to go to sleep on her own side, if she woke in the middle of the night (which she frequently did), I would invariably wake up the next morning with her arms wrapped around me in a way that guaranteed me a stiff neck and shoulders. My sister, knowing full
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