Chapter Text
“So, when did you first find out about ‘em?” Paula reached out her hand.
“You mean my powers?” Ness said, grabbing it.
Paula hefted Ness to his feet. Behind them, in the center of a brown bowl-shaped crater, a Li’l UFO jutted diagonally out of the scorched grass. Ribbons of smoke curled into the air as the cracked flying-saucer made a couple of sputtering beeps before powering down with a dirge-like hum.
The kids were equally worse for wear. Traversing Peaceful Rest Valley had been ironically hectic with its strange aliens and combustible trees, but the two had gotten used to these encounters to the point where it felt routine. They could continue conversations between and sometimes even during battles.
Ness had only fully met Paula yesterday, so they had a lot of small talk to do. Favourite foods, favourite music, favourite sports teams: you know, important stuff.
“What else would I mean?” Paula said, retying her bow.
“Well, it was small at first.” Ness swung his backpack to his chest and dug around inside. “Croissant?” he offered.
“Yep.”
Ness split the bread in half. The two ate and walked, enjoying the sun at their backs and seeing how it made the river below glitter, its water encircling the sloping cliffs of Peaceful Rest.
Ness swallowed before he spoke. “I guess it was when I first realized I could talk to animals. I’ve always been able to hear their thoughts. Well, I guess I didn’t realize, I just sorta always could, but didn’t see how it was weird. It was a while before I learned not everyone could do it. I used to think the other kids were just being really rude or acting dumb. Turns out I was the dumb one.” He chuckled humourlessly.
“But,” he said in a brighter tone, “I’ve been able to do a lot more stuff since the meteor landed. It’s like my powers are more, insistent. I think.”
“Don’t you mean consistent?” Paula said.
“I mean, that too. But no, like— They kind of have a direction now, a purpose. I feel like if the meteor had never crashed, and I’d never met that Buzz Buzz I told you about, the best I could do would be knowing when King needed to pee and being able to open bathroom locks without touching them.”
“Who’s King?”
“Oh, he’s my dog.”
“That’s cool. I have a cat, but he doesn’t like me.”
He knew she had a cat now. Good. This was good, right? It had been a while since Ness had talked to someone his age, even before he’d taken on this whole world-saving thing. He had a tendency to ramble, and being treated like a social pariah at school meant he was out of practice. Paula was a good listener though.
He took another bite, disappointed. “Darn, these aren’t as good cold.”
Paula offered her free hand. “Here, let me try.”
Confused, he handed her his half. Then it dawned on him.
“Oh, hell yes!” he said.
"Mmmm-hm," Paula grinned as she focused on the two halves of the croissant in both her hands. The scent of cooked bread mingled around them, the edges of the croissant-halves curling from the heat. As steam began to waft from them both, she returned Ness’s half. “Here,” she said.
Ness took an eager bite, eyes beaming as he savoured the delightful buttery flavour that melted in his mouth. “That’s amazing, Paula! I can’t believe you don’t do this all the time,” he said with his mouth half full.
“I do do it all the time, you goose. You just haven’t noticed,” she said, making no attempt to hide how pleased she was. And for good reason – it was amazing how well Paula handled her offensive PSI. And such a variety too!
It wasn’t just Paula’s psychic abilities that impressed Ness, it was the way she held herself. She walked with a relaxed self-confidence. Like she didn’t have to work at all to prove her coolness, she just was. She bit a large shred of croissant, not caring at all for who was watching. Ness wished he could be like that. Just, not giving a damn. Then again, it wouldn’t be hard to be comfortable in Paula’s skin. She was tall, blonde - total opposite to Ness.
“But yeah, what you’re saying makes sense,” Paula said. “I wasn’t able to do as much big PK stuff until you got me out of that damn cabin. Maybe some of that magic PSI-focusy-energy of yours rubbed off on me.” She waggled her fingers and elbowed his shoulder.
Ness giggled. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Could you do any other PSI stuff growing up? Or did people at school still treat you different?” Paula asked.
“I avoided it. It only made them bug me more. I would sometimes do it by accident if I was surprised or something. Like, make little sparks of light around me. But the others would single me out if they ever saw me doing weird stuff like that. Back when me and Pokey knew each other, he had ideas for all sorts of pranks I should do to get back at them. But, I promised my mom I’d never use my powers on other kids.”
Ness noticed something in Paula’s eyes. There had definitely been a look of distaste when he mentioned Pokey, she made no attempt to hide that. But there was something else. He’d caught a vague glimpse of surprise. Or maybe it was scepticism? Or maybe it had all been repulsion. Maybe now that he’d fully admitted how unpopular he was at school and what little he could do with PSI, he had pretty much undone any credibility he had for himself. Maybe Paula would come to her senses and realize she could just take the Sound Stone and probably do this whole Giygas thing without him.
Paula looked ahead of her, thoughtful. Ness instinctively turtled into his shoulders.
She said, “That sucks. I’m sorry to hear you got bugged like that. But, I think it’s kind of impressive.” Paula clocked Ness’s confusion. “What I mean is, those other kids probably didn’t expect much from you. But they were wrong, 'cause look where you are now!” She spoke like what she was saying was fact, like she was explaining gravity. “Listen, if my visions have shown me anything, we’re not even close to done yet. But hey! You’ve gone through a lot of stuff all by yourself. That makes you pretty cool in my books.”
Ness looked at her in awe, too stupefied to form a response.
“Also don’t call PSI weird,” she added. “It’s cool as hell.”
Ness snorted. “Easy for you to say. You can make stuff warm and cold just by touching it – I bet you could charge a Walkman too!” Ness said, definitely not considering asking her to do so later since he’d run out of spare batteries. “What did people at your school think?”
A small crease formed on Paula’s brow as she stuffed her whole croissant piece into her mouth. She covered the bottom of her face as she chewed. She said, “Not much. I’m home-schooled.”
“Oh, so—right.” Ness had almost said sorry. Well that had been a dumb thing to ask. Maybe that was a sore spot for her, like, she was embarrassed or something. It was hard to imagine Paula being home-schooled though. He’d just assumed Paula was one of those popular athletic kids who could draw attention to her like moths to her flaming bright personality. He couldn’t shake the image. She was so thoughtful and inspiring and smart – she had to be someone with loads of friends.
It dawned on him.
Ness laughed.
Paula stared. Voice on guard, she said, “What’s so funny?”
“Sorry! Sorry, I just realized. Um.” He kept his hands clutched tight to his backpack straps to prevent them from flapping with excitement. In a small voice, he said, “Are we - are we friends right now?”
Paula’s face went slack, like her mind was rebooting, long enough for a shadow of a fear to tug at Ness’s chest, before at last she came alive with a sound that was a mix of a raspberry and a snort.
“Of course we are, nimrod!” She smacked the brim of Ness’s cap down.
Ness laughed too, surprised and relieved.
“After crawling through a cave and fighting a seven-foot-tall mole?” she said. “We’re, like, blood brothers or something.” She hooked Ness with the crook of her arm, close enough that he could see the twinkle in her eye. “They don’t do team building exercises like that in church camp, that I can tell you for free,” she laughed again.
Ness beamed. “Yeah, awesome.”
His journey up until this point had been stress after quandary after back-breaking burden. Rabid animals, corrupt adults, aliens – it was all, frankly, pretty damn terrifying. Especially doing everything by himself. Travelling alone meant buying food by yourself, meant pacing on the spot for ten minutes working up the courage to ask someone for directions, meant fully realising that just because you were a kid didn’t mean adults needed to be kind to you.
It was a lot.
He was embarrassed by the amount of times he’d cried himself to sleep in hotel rooms, just wanting to go back home to his dog and his sister and mom. But he knew he couldn’t. He could feel in his gut that he was in the center of something much bigger than himself. So, warily, he kept moving forward. No matter how much the weight of the Sound Stone in his backpack felt heavier with each step.
But now he knew Paula. Someone who had seemingly mastered her PSI in less than an afternoon and could mow down enemies with the explosive point of a finger. You’d think that the whole ‘chosen one’ rigamarole would make him feel important and special, but what he really felt was unqualified. Right now though, knowing that he was friends with Paula made Ness feel like he was worth his weight in gold.
He had a friend. He couldn’t remember the last time he could say that with confidence. So he laughed too. He felt happy. He felt really, truly, happy.
So happy, he hadn’t noticed their youthful mirth had drawn a creeping mass of leaves and sulphur behind the two. A droning CREEEEEAK of it rising to its full height made the kids jerk still as they felt its skulking form block out the sun. They turned, slowly, eyes meeting the Territorial Oak’s wide wooden grin.
“Cheese and crackers," Paula muttered.
Scuffed, scratched, and only slightly bruised – Ness and Paula emerged from the caves into the outskirts of Twoson proper.
Car traffic, children playing, white stripes over black asphalt connecting grey strips of cracked concrete – the ordinary marks of suburbia were a close comfort for children who had been sleeping amongst sneering trees and blue cows.
All kinds of grown-ups stopped in their tracks to wave at Paula, showing genuine excitement in seeing her. Paula waved back at the adults, calling half of them by name, while Ness eyed them warily. Gardening yards, doing groceries, walking dogs – all was put on hold as people ogled the two of them.
Ness felt rather than heard the words “she’s back… healer… her parents must be … miracle worker” penetrate the walls of his skull from all directions.
Ness clutched his backpack straps tightly. “You know,” he said, “when I first got to Twoson, almost everyone talked about you an awful lot. I guess you’re sorta famous huh?”
Paula took long strides and wore a wide smile as she waved with the jagged precision of an air marshal signalling a plane to land. From far away it would have looked vibrant, from up close it looked mechanical. “Yep, it’s not— Hi, Mr Benson!” Paula's voice went up an octave. "Yep, I’m back. In a hurry to see the family. See you on Sunday though!”
She leant down conspiratorially to Ness as they walked past the older gentleman. “Yep, it’s not a huge town, sure, but it’s embarrassing sometimes, you know? People come up to me and I don’t know their names half the time.”
“I’d be kinda creeped out honestly,” he mumbled.
Paula raised herself back up. “Well, thank God for the words ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am,’” she said through a grit smile.
After walking through a few more streets, they reached the end of a particular block. There stood the long preschool building with the name POLESTAR painted in blocky red and teal letters.
A cat lay on the sidewalk, licking its paw. It had a black coat save for it’s entirely white head and belly.
“Hey Biscuit!” Paula said.
The cat looked at Paula. It arched its back and hissed like a bad omen before running to the preschool and climbing up the gutter to the roof.
Paula cupped her hands around her mouth. “Didn’t miss me too much, huh?”
The cat hissed again. Ness heard it say: You and your hot hands!!! Stay back!
He turned to Paula. “'Hot hands?’”
Paula stared back blankly, then laughed. “Ha! Yeah, that’s one way to describe it. My motor skills as a kid weren’t exactly the most—” two small bursts of flame shot from her jazz-hands “—disciplined.” She grinned cheekily.
Ness laughed, walking towards the stone path leading to the preschool. He didn’t hear Paula’s footsteps.
He turned. Paula was staring at the building, a heavy look on her face, like she was weighing something up.
“Paula, are you okay?”
Paula took a beat like she hadn’t heard him. Her shoulders were hunched, fists curled at her sides. Finally, she shut her eyes, inhaled deeply through her nose, and opened them.
“Worst first,” she said, marching past Ness and reaching towards the door.
They entered the preschool - long carpeted room, colourful plastic chairs, cubbyholes, a blackboard, toy boxes. A safe and soft world that made you instantly nostalgic the instant you set foot inside. The pre-schoolers were huddled at the far corner around Mrs Polestar. She was a beautiful woman, chicly dishevelled with her hair in a ponytail and wearing a finger-paint stained apron. She sat on a stool above the enraptured students. Her mouth formed perfect vowels and consonants as she held aloft a bright picture book. Her finger carefully underlined each word as she read. "The – big – blue – bear – was – Paula?”
The kids’ heads turned in hive mind unison.
“PAULA?” the kids gasped.
The gaggle of pre-schoolers stampeded towards her. A dozen snotty faces clamoured around Paula, completely unrestrained in their devotion. Paula was nearly pulled apart by the twenty-four little hands trying to tug her in opposite directions.
“—Paula, I drew nine horses on one page, look!”
“—Where did you go? Can I go with you next time, Paula?”
“—Paula, Mrs Polestar keeps giving us carrots in snack-time you hafta stop her.”
“Kids!” Mrs Polestar’s voice sliced through the pre-schoolers’ pleas. “Macaroni and cheese!” she called.
As if told the most exciting thing they’d heard in their entire lives, the kids responded: “Everybodyyyyyyyyy... FREEZE!” Each struck a funny pose, holding as still as possible.
Smiling warmly, Mrs Polestar clapped her hands together. “Now that I have your attention, I can announce that it’s naptime!”
A cacophony of disappointed awwwww’s.
“I’m sorry, guys,” Paula said. “Me and my friend Ness had a biiiiig couple of days out.” Paula spoke in an extremely earnest voice, not too far off from a kids tv show host Ness would watch as a toddler. Regardless, the kids were making small o’s with their mouths, hanging onto each word. “I got lost, but my new friend Ness found me and helped me back home. But now we’re both REALLY tired!” She stretched her arms and yawned theatrically. “Ness is tired too.” She jabbed him with her elbow.
“Um, yes!” He yawned and tapped his hand against his mouth.
Mrs Polestar nodded approvingly towards Paula. Without missing a beat, she said: “See? Big kids need to take naps too. And you all want to be big like Paula and Ness, right?”
Most of the kids nodded, though a few still pouted, unconvinced.
“And you’ll get to hear the story of how I fought a giant mole!” Paula said.
“REALLY?”
“But only after naptime!” Mrs Polestar said. “Let’s go!”
All the pre-schoolers followed Mrs Polestar to a store closet except one. She stayed, tugging firmly at Paula’s skirt.
“Paula! Up! Up!” she raised her hands skywards.
Paula’s eyes widened. “Maybe later, Natalie,” she whispered quickly. “Not in front of Mo—Mrs Polestar, remember?”
Natalie sulked before she walked towards the rest of the kids. Ness looked at Paula with an inquisitive head tilt.
Later, Paula mouthed.
The room quickly turned into a flurry of movement. Like a conductor leading a symphony, or a fairy godmother waving commands – the kids were under Mrs Polestar’s spell, diligently helping pull out their mats and blankets at her lead. Ness sat next to Paula, watching her help the kids spread the blankets out. Ness realized he was smiling. There was something nearly utopic about how Mrs Polestar was able to conjure such a tour-de-force of positivity. This must be where Paula’s inspiration to help others came from.
As soon as the pre-schoolers were tucked in, the curtains drawn, and the lights were dimmed, Mrs Polestar put on a disc in the CD-player. It played a soft, tinkly, music box melody. Finger pressed to her lips, she quietly led Paula and Ness out through the front door.
As soon as they were outside, Mrs Polestar embraced Paula, kissing her cheeks. “Paula, are you okay? Are you hurt? Look at you, your shoes are all scuffed.” Paula stumbled for balance as her mother snatched Paula’s foot to polish her shoe with the end of her apron.
Paula barked a surprised laugh that caught in her throat. “That can happen, yeah.” She lifted her shoe from her mom’s grasp and hugged her again, sniffing slightly.
Ness averted his eyes, feeling all too suddenly like an intruder upon what should have been a private scene.
Paula pulled away, wiped her eyes, and gestured towards him. “Mom, this is Ness.”
Ness raised his hand in a meek wave. “Hi again.”
To his surprise, Mrs Polestar rushed forwards and engulfed him in a hug. “Thank you. Not just for saving Paula” – Paula and Ness simultaneously cringed at the word ‘save’ – “but for saving this family.”
The entirety of Ness's face was on fire. This was far too grand a gesture than the situation warranted. “Um, it wasn’t much…”
Paula met eyes with the floundering Ness. “Come on, Mom, save it for the cameras.” The jab was playful enough.
Mrs Polestar turned her head. “What was that, Paula?” she said.
Something in the air changed, like someone had switched an invisible knob to a setting that made Ness's toes curl inside his shoes.
Paula’s face hitched, like she’d just remembered something. She glanced down. “Sorry for joking,” she said in a small voice. “I’m still a bit shocked about everything. It’s nice to be back.”
The cloud around Mrs Polestar’s expression turned sunny. And just like that, the moment was gone. The knob was spun back to normal. Ness was hungry and tired, he shoved the thought out of his mind.
As if reading his mind, Mrs Polestar said, “You two must be starving.” She stepped back from Ness. “You can tell us everything over some milk and pie.”
“Pie?” Paula lifted her head and an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me—”
“Yes, he is,” her mother responded, mouth pulled into a firm line.
The three of them went around the back of the building to reach the door that lead directly to the Polestar residence and into their kitchen.
In regular circumstances, the first thing you’d notice would be the creamy pale tiles, the large kitchen countertops with veggies and crackers as snacks for the kids, or the swinging slatted doors above one of the counters that looked into the pre-school area, likely to pass snacks between rooms for the pre-schoolers.
These were not regular circumstances.
This was due to the simple fact that nearly every horizontal surface was covered in a legion of home-made pies.
The countertops, the table, the top of the fridge, even stacked on top of each other – nowhere was safe. The freshest looking ones sat on the open window-sill, as if whoever put it there hoped the beguiling scent of pastry would lift someone off their feet and make them float towards the house like a cartoon character. Some in the farthest countertop looked droopy and stale.
The only person within this pie fortress was a blond man wearing a red apron, currently reaching into an open oven. He straightened up, bringing out a succulent cherry pie in a pair of yellow-checked oven mitts. His eyebrows nearly reached his hairline as he laid eyes on—
“Paula!” Mr Polestar almost flung the pie into the air. He rushed forward to give her a hug, realized he had a burning pie tray in his hands, smiled sheepishly as he turned to put it on the stovetop and came back to kneel down and envelop Paula in his arms.
"Oh, Paula, my baby girl. I’m so SO glad you’re alright!”
Paula hugged him back tightly. She pulled back, taking a moment to eye the tower of pies before giving her dad a look.
“Oh, right, sorry.” He gave a chastened laugh. “I was stress-baking again.”
For the second time today, Ness felt like an intruder. He gazed vacantly at this overt act of affection between child and father.
“Honey, you have a right to be anxious,” Mrs Polestar kept her voice as unaffected as possible as she tiptoed through the landmine of pies in the direction of the fridge. “But there’s a reason why people invented—” The entirety of the fridge was filled with pie.
“That’s snack time covered for the next few weeks,” Paula muttered. Ness slammed his hand over his mouth to cover his laughter.
Ness looked up, catching the morose sagging of Mrs Polestar’s shoulders as she gazed onwards, leaning on the fridge door. But her posture straightened so seamlessly that Ness wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.
“Silver linings!” she said, shutting the door behind her. “We’ll have a pie feast for lunch. Paula, could you set the table?
“Would you like me to clear the table of pie before I set it?” Paula said.
“Yes please.”
“I’ll help too,” Ness said, but Mrs Polestar had already turned around to start clearing the trays of dough and chopped fruit. Mr Polestar, truly grasping the mess he’d made, was quickly grabbing as many pies as possible before thinking about where he was going to put them next.
“C’mon,” Paula said. “We keep the trash-bags here.”
Ness noted the déjà vu of helping clear another indoor space within the span of fifteen minutes. But instead of excitement and singing songs, there were only the sounds of footsteps and the swishing of plastic bags. No talking, only silence and precision. Maybe Paula’s parents were kinda embarrassed and so weren’t talking as a way to save face from this unique situation of dismantling a kingdom of pie, but the lack of acknowledgement only made the silence more oppressive. It felt like they were clearing away something dirty, something odd. There was a knot in Ness’s gut that made him feel like he was sinking into a bog of something tense and difficult, but he couldn’t put his finger on what.
Ness and Paula diligently put the creepiest looking pies in a black plastic bag. Paula’s face was stony. Ness couldn’t tell if this was a look of someone who was trying to move through this unique situation as swiftly as possible, or had seen it too many times before.
The two headed towards the backdoor to take the pie-filled trash bag to the kerb.
“Paula, open your bag please.” Mrs Polestar walked across the kitchen with another bag of pie ingredients which she dropped into Paula’s. “And don’t furrow your brow so much, you’ll have wrinkles by the time you’re in high school.”
Paula made her face vacant. "Forgive me. Mother," she said in a robot voice. Ness snorted.
Mrs Polestar began, “And—”
"Thank you for reminding me to make sure the lid is closed, Mom, I’ll do just that,” she returned with a Polestar-brand smile as she tied the end of her bag into a bow.
Mentally stuttering on how to reply, Mrs Polestar sighed and said, “Just make sure you come back quickly.”
Ness and Paula stepped outside and closed the door. Paula ran a few steps forward to make sure she was far enough from the house so she could drop her bag and clutch her belly laughing. Ness joined in, relieved for the release of tension.
“Sorry about all that. Mom and Dad care an awful lot about things, don’t they?”
“Yeah, that’s okay.” Ness’s grin faltered slightly. “Are your parents, um—” Ness wasn’t sure if he was crossing a line or not “—strict?”
“What makes you say that?” Paula said, her tone indicating how perfectly aware she was of the irony in her words.
“Well, they looked really nervous to see you gone. Do you think they’ll be okay with the whole, you know, saving the world from alien invasion meaning you’ll need to leave again, thing?” Ness had an image of Paula’s dad ‘stress-baking’ enough pies to cover the entirety of Twoson.
“The thought has crossed my mind.” She picked up the bag and moved towards the trash can at the side of the preschool. “But I know how to talk to them. I have a plan too.” Ness could tell the lightness in her voice was a bit put-upon. More like she was talking to herself rather than him. She turned and saw Ness’s expression. “There is nothing to worry about. The whole ‘world saving thing’ is a lot for anyone to take in, but if I explain it to them the right way they won’t have a reason to freak out or anything. Okay?” She punctuated this by dropping the bag in the can and closing the lid.
Again, even though Paula was looking at Ness, he wasn’t convinced she was truly talking to him. “Okay,” he said.
The two headed back into the kitchen, already a lot less chaotic. Mr Polestar was wiping down the counters while Mrs Polestar had manifested a broom and dustpan, sweeping pie crumbs off the floor.
“The table?” Mrs Polestar said.
“Right away,” Paula said in that same overly chirpy voice she’d used coming into Twoson. Ness supposed that the plan started now. Ness grabbed plates while Paula grabbed placemats.
After they did so, Paula said, “I’ll get cups. Knives and forks are in the cabinet at the end over there.” She pointed. Simple enough. Ness grabbed four sets from the drawer, returned to the table, and started to put them on each of the placemats. As he placed the last set down he nearly jumped out of his skin as a hand appeared on his shoulder.
“Thank you, Ness,” Mrs Polestar said, “but we do things a bit differently.”
Mrs Polestar took the last set of stainless steel cutlery from Ness and returned them to the drawer, replacing them with a thick blue plastic knife and fork that Ness had overlooked. He'd thought those were for the pre-schoolers.
Mrs Polestar returned to the table and placed them on the last placemat. Paula walked forward with the four cups, her gaze was firmly planted downwards so Ness couldn’t meet her eye. She briskly placed the cups on each placemat and stood behind the seat with the bright blue cutlery.
Ness gulped. The gravitas and wit that Paula had carried into the room moments before had completely vanished.
Eventually, Mr Polestar brought out the freshest pies and, at Mrs Polestar’s lead, the four scraped their chairs towards the table, held hands to say grace (which Ness had never done before), and placed their napkins on their laps.
“So, Paula,” Mr Polestar said carefully, “Now that you’re back. I think we can all agree that it’s probably for the best that you cut down on your walks around Twoson.” He turned to Ness. “Paula’s such a friendly soul. She'll say hi to anybody, even those hippies at Burglin park.” He returned to Paula, a little more serious. “But I think from now on it would be a good idea to make sure you have someone looking out for you, don’t you think, champ?”
Ness saw Paula’s hands clench on her lap. “That won’t really be a— “
“Paula, which kind would you like?” Mrs Polestar was leaned over the table, cutting the pies into slices.
“I’d like some of the apple, please,” she said softly.
“No problem, kiddo,” she responded, making no indication of noticing Paula’s gloom. “And you, Ness?”
“Um, yes please.” Despite the dour mood, he and Paula had walked a long way living off of juice boxes and cookies. He gazed longingly at the golden, plump pies sitting on the table.
“Well, not too much, since it looks like you already get plenty,” Mrs Polestar said with a pursed smile, cutting him a thin slice.
The implication hit Ness like a dumbbell. He closed his mouth and suddenly became intensely interested in the pattern of the placemat.
Paula rolled her shoulders back and spread her hands out easily. “Mom, come on.” Her smile was easy, voice radiating light. “We’re celebrating! Besides, we walked all the way from Peaceful Rest on foot, and if it weren’t for Ness, I wouldn’t even be here. Cut us some slack? I think he’s earned it.” The friendly beaming Paula who smiles at her neighbours and helps her mother at the preschool was present and taking questions.
Underneath the table, Ness felt Paula’s foot pressing on his shoe. Not painfully, but as a way to assure she was here. Paula wasn’t looking at Ness, but he understood. I’m so so sorry, I can’t believe she said that. I have this under control, don’t worry.
Mrs Polestar stopped. She looked at her daughter.
“Oh,” Mrs Polestar said. “You’re angry, aren’t you?”
There was no accusation in her voice. Just a soft acknowledgement of fact, a humble epiphany. But there was no apology in her tone either.
Paula inhaled sharply through her nose, composure knocked out of her like she’d been slapped.
“It’s fine,” Mrs Polestar said. “I just worry about people’s health, that’s all. But you know best I suppose.” Mrs Polestar shrugged with an indifference that carried the weight of an atomic bomb. Ness shot his gaze back down as firmly as he could, not bearing to see Paula’s reaction. Maybe if he stared hard enough he could pretend he was somewhere else.
He heard Mrs Polestar serve everyone, the big knife slicing into the flesh of the pie and landing in a wet heap on his plate.
“Thank you.” Ness had no appetite.
There was the gentle, tense clinking of knives and forks for a few moments. Ness did his best to eat, even though the pie tasted sickly sweet in his mouth and made him feel like he was gonna hurl.
Someone would have to snap his neck to make him look at Paula.
He’d always hated these kinds of things. He was the kind of person to bury his face in a couch pillow while watching a Friday night film with his mom and sister during the part in the movie where something went terribly wrong for the hero and there was nothing they could do about it. He couldn’t just walk out of the room and wait for the scene to end though, that’s not how these things worked. He was going to have to sit through every moment of this.
No omnipotence could bring him to look at the girl that he’d known for a day and a half who had been chastised in the most oblique yet heavy-handed way possible. He could only imagine how she looked. Head bent down like his? Face hot with embarrassment? On the verge of tears? He would not look at her, no, nope, nooo siree, not in a million—
“Mom, Dad, I need to tell you something important,” Paula said.
Ness peeked up from his baseball cap so he’d have the tiniest sliver of sight of the people at the table. Mrs and Mr Polestar looked up from their food with mild interest, as if there had only been a small road bump in the conversation rather than the screeching halt Ness had helplessly stood in periphery of.
Paula wasn’t putting on the fake, happy voice from earlier, but spoke with the frankness he knew her for. “The first thing I did when I arrived was come down here. Not just because this is my home, and not just 'cause you’re obviously my parents, but because I knew I needed to tell you two something.” She spoke coolly, no tremble contaminated her inflection, only a matter-of-fact certainty that was very her. “It has to do with the visions I’ve been having lately, and I need you both to listen.”
Ness realized that he could still feel the weight of her shoe on his. That’s what made him fully lift his head and look at Paula.
Paula was sat up straight, face calm, hands steepled together like she was making careful negotiations. She was completely unburdened by any anguish Ness had pictured in his mind, and now felt foolish for even imagining. This was Paula, whose personality had enough punch to give you a whole sense of her even if you’d known her for either a day or less than a few minutes. Paula, the kid who was flame and ice and knew when to be what may have been humbled, but she was not giving up.
The only thing that slightly blemished her controlled exterior was the blue knife and fork on her plate, which still filled Ness with an unease he couldn’t pinpoint.
“We’re listening, Paula,” her parents said.
Paula took a deep breath. “I think the visions are going to happen soon. Actually, I think they’re happening right now. Ness is the only one who can defeat a very big threat that’s gonna hurt a lot of people, maybe even the whole planet! And I’m one of the only people who can help Ness defeat it. I know it sounds like I’m exaggerating, but I’m not. I know this is all real and important because the bad people who kidnapped me were being controlled by the entity who doesn’t want me helping Ness.”
Mr Polestar said, “But—”
Paula raised a hand. “Can I finish, please?” Mr Polestar closed his mouth. Ness put his head down again, though this time only to hide the small grin curling around his mouth.
Paula continued, “You guys have always told me that I’m blessed, and that I should take as many opportunities as I can to use my powers to help others.” Paula took a moment. There was a lingering sense of restraint to her words. It wasn’t holding back emotion, but to give her the space to think. Behind her eyes there was a careful calculation of every choice of words, meter, and tone. Weighing countless iterations of the best way to articulate her thoughts before settling on the right one. “And… basically, the only way I will be able to do that is by directly helping Ness and whatever things him, two others, and I will eventually have to confront together. I know the idea of me doing something like that can be scary, but this might be the most important thing I ever do.
“So,” Paula spoke slowly, wanting every word to be clearly understood, “what I’m trying to say here, is that I’ll have to leave for a bit. And, I need, you guys, to be, okay with that.”
Paula’s parents took a moment to collect their thoughts. Keeping his face still, Ness took the opportunity to place his foot from underneath Paula’s to on top of hers.
Good job, he pressed twice.
Paula’s foot didn’t move in response, but he knew that she was bracing herself for whatever was coming next, just like he was.
Finally, Paula’s parents looked at each other and broke into wide smiles. “Aw, honey,” Mrs Polestar said. “Of course we support you!”
“You… Really?” It was Paula’s turn to look stupefied. Wide-eyed, she leaned back in her chair with the face of someone who was seeing mountains of counter-arguments and rebuttals burn to a crisp in her mind's eye.
Ness deflated with relief as he let go of a breath he hadn't realized he’d been holding.
“Of course we do!” Mr Polestar said. “We’re so proud of you. We raised a raised a fine young lady didn’t we, Lou? Paula really is going to be the one to save our little town.”
Paula cracked a tiny smile. She let go of the act she had been playing with the relief of peeling a stuffy coat off her shoulders. No more acting like an adult, she had permission to be a kid basking in praise.
Mr Polestar said, “Just think; you, going out into the world, meeting all kinds of people. And after they all see how wonderful the Pride of Twoson is, they’ll be flocking from all over just to come see the place. It’ll be great for business!”
Paula’s face froze, a notch forming on her brow.
“I won’t exactly be running a campaign for the Twoson tourism board, Dad.” She laughed a snatch too loudly, like she was trying to force her dad’s statement into the joke it wasn’t. She dug into her pie trying to distract herself.
“Either way, you won’t have to worry about it too much yet,” Mrs Polestar said. “In fact, Paula, we have some important news for you too! It’s such good luck that you were able to bring her back today, Ness.”
Mouth half full, Paula narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh, why’s that?”
Mrs Polestar cleared her throat, squinting at one Paula Polestar to mind her manners, who did not elect to react. Face only momentarily still, Mrs Polestar reignited to life as she exclaimed, “It means that Paula is just in time to be in the Founder’s Parade!”
Paula made a choked sputter that made the half-chewed piece of pie she was in the middle of swallowing splat onto the front of her dress.
“Oh, Paula, there you go,” Mrs Polestar said. “Let me—”
“It’s fine, Mom, I’ve got it.” Paula grabbed her napkin, dabbing it against her dress despite the damp, crummy patch that remained.
Wanting to avoid another stretch of silence that would make Ness want to knead his hands into fists and pull his hair by the roots, he asked as innocently as he could muster: “What’s the Founder’s Parade?”
“It’s an annual holiday in Twoson happening in two days,” Mrs Polestar said, eyes brimming with excitement. She seemed to be able to muster glee out of nowhere. Being a preschool teacher must do that to a person. “It’s to celebrate when Twoson was first founded.”
“There’s parade floats, food stalls, fireworks, it’s great!” Mr Polestar added, smiling warmly.
Mrs Polestar continued, “Paula’s always talked about wanting to be in it— (“Once. When I was four,” Paula muttered.) —and usually one of the local businesses leads the first float. Buuuut, after speaking to the mayor we were able to agree on having Paula on the head of the first float to represent the preschool. It’ll be so wholesome!” She clasped her hands up to her cheek.
Paula looked mortified. “You did all of this without telling me?”
“We wanted it to be a surprise!”
“Well I don’t like surprises - you know this!” Paula flushed bright red. Ness felt Paula’s shoe disappear. All restraint and politeness was gone. “And besides, we can’t stay for two days. Ness and I need to go tomorrow morning at the latest."
Paula’s parents went quiet.
Ness had realized something throughout the peaks and valleys of this scenario he was very, very ready to leave from.
Ness was no stranger to unideal parents. Take Pokey’s folks. They were ‘strict’ too. While their words could be light, the way they said things always dripped with some sort of sarcasm or unkindness about your clothes or how much money your parents made that made you always tiptoe around them.
With Paula’s parents, it was the opposite. They were so nice and caring and sickly sweet it made you feel terrible for saying anything contrary to them. Their enthusiasm was too happy, almost Happy Happy happy. But Ness could tell it wasn’t exactly like that either. The Happy Happyists were ignorant - blindly following a movement due to a mix of brainwashing and a lack of support making them yearn to be something bigger than themselves. The thing that creeped him out now was that underneath all of the hospitality and politeness of Mr and Mrs Polestar, there was something honed and purposeful that paralysed Ness in his seat. Happiness wasn’t an ideology, it was their weapon.
Mr and Mrs Polestar gave each other the slightest of conspiratory looks, a wordless agreement had been made.
“Paula,” Mrs Polestar looked at her daughter like she was a newborn lamb. “It’s so sweet how you’re always in such a rush to help others. But don’t you want to do something nice for yourself before you go?”
“Exactly! Think of it like a big ‘going-away’ party,” Mr Polestar said.
Ness wanted to look down again, but he forced himself not to. It was the best way to support Paula that he could think of, even though he felt like a lone satellite in the middle of a fiery constellation of shooting Polestars.
“This isn’t even a case of me not wanting to,” Paula said firmly, hands balled into fists at the table. “I can’t stay. Full stop.”
“The decision’s been made,” Mrs Polestar said.
“But this is urgent.”
“It can wait.”
"Saving the world can wait?" she yelled.
“And I already bought you a dress,” Mrs Polestar said with an air of finality.
Paula scowled. A deep, hateful scowl that spoke all of the words that she wasn’t allowed to say at her age.
Mrs Polestar’s tone softened. “The rehearsal’s tomorrow at three. So in the morning we can get up early to pick up your outfit and some shoes and fix up your hair—"
“I SAID NO.” Paula slammed her hands against the table. The silence suffocated. A far-away wail came from the preschool room.
“I would like to be excused please,” Paula mumbled.
Without waiting for a response, her chair shrieked against the tiles as she pushed herself away from the table. “C’mon, Ness.”
Ness stood up, pushed his chair into the table, bobbed his head towards the Polestars, and quickly followed Paula out the backdoor of the house.
“At least wipe your shirt first!” Mrs Polestar called before the door slammed shut.