It was dark inside, as dark inside as it was outside his childhood house. Simon looked in the house and saw dark shapes moving around the floor of the house. The boy did not seem surprised and stepped over large piles of clothing that moved as he brushed them.

“They are sleeping,” the boy said. “I doubt they would wake even if I kicked them.” Simon saw the profile of the face of the boy and saw a sneer as if the evil thought had passed through his mind and he had thought of grasping onto it and kicking the sleeping figure. It passes as quickly, and without more light, Simon could not tell if it was a passing fancy or if he had imagined the entire thing.

“Who are they?” Simon asked, puzzled to see his childhood house, and now the home of his sister filled with vagrants. “Do they live here? Has she turned the house into a homeless shelter?”

“There are lots of empty houses around these parts,” the boy said. “These people are homeless, but it is not for lack of shelter or money. If only it were that easy.”

“Nothing is ever easy,” a familiar woman’s voice said. There was a light coming down the stairs and Simon saw his sister walking down the stairs holding the handle of a candle in a candle dish. He had never seen a candle dish used in such a way, and it brought back memories of the sixteenth century, before electricity was widespread enough to be available in every household.

The light only illuminated the lower features of her face. Simon saw immediately that she had lost weight. It had been a few years since he had seen her and her family. He had always tried to visit at least once a year, but the past two years had been particularly busy on the road, and nothing brought him close enough to Fishs Eddy to give him an excuse to stop by for a few hours to say hello to his family. Her hair was cut very short and looked grayer than the last time he had seen her. Even so, she looked good with what she had done. Simon stood staring at his sister, wondering what had happened over the last few years to turn her into what she had become.

“I am glad you came,” Darla said. “You are too late to see mother off, though. She left a few days ago before we spoke.”

“Where did she go?” Simon asked, returning to what he had meant to start the conversation with.

“Mother?” Darla asked, seemingly surprised by his question. “You did not talk to her before you came?”

“I have been trying to reach her on her phone for the last few days,” Simon said. “I have also been trying to reach you.”

Darla smiled at Simon. “As you can see, we have had a bit of a power issue in the house, and in town, for that matter. And, well, mother, she left here without her cell phone. I am surprised she did not try to call you. She has called her almost every day.”

“I thought you said you did not have any electricity?” Simon asked. It was not that he was suspicious of his sister’s statements, it was more that he was a bit angry at his mother for not calling him sooner, especially when she must have known that he knew what was going on here, and he might be anxious about her safety.

“Why are you surprised that she did not call you?” Darla asked. “You do not talk to her but once every two months or so. You are always off gallivanting around the country, looking for suckers to buy into your ponsi scheme. Perhaps she was tired of you and wanted to teach you a lesson.”

“This would be a strange time to teach me a lesson,” Simon said. “And what about Melanie? She did not call me either, and I speak to her more often than mother.”

“Yes,” Darla said. “I know. You speak to her more often because she does not drive you crazy. Do not think I do not know how that little brain of yours thinks.”

“Do you mind?” the boy asked. Simon had forgotten that he was still there. He waited behind Darla and seemed to be holding out his hand for something.

“Where were you tonight?” Darla asked.

“Wandering around,” the boy said. “The usual. Now, do you mind? I want to get to bed before it gets much later.”

“You would not have this problem if you came home at a reasonable time,” Darla said. “Where did you find your uncle?” Simon looked at the boy again. He was his nephew? He had not seen his nephew in two years. He could not believe how much he had grown. He swallowed down the statement before it could escape his lips. As a child, he always grew annoyed when adults made that very obvious comment. Of course he had grown, that is what children do, they grow. Why were adults always so amazed by this growth? As a child he had realized the answer: it was because the adults themselves did not grow, at least not in the right ways. When he figured out the answer, the rest of the questions came to him easier.

“It was not too hard to find him,” the boy said. “He ended up giving me quite the chase around town. He brought two friends. I think his female friend likes me.” The boy said this with a straight face. He was eager to be right about this, trying to impress his mother with his statements, and she seemed impressed. Her finger went to her lips as if she were in deep thought about what he had said.

“Why did you chase him?” Darla asked Simon.

Simon did not know how to respond. He had not even known who he was chasing when he started the chase. In fact, now that he thought back to the situation, he had not even known why he had chased the boy when he started to run. He had needed him to find his sister’s house, but if he had been an adult who had ignored him, he would not have chased down the adult to force him to assist him. It had been a very long day and he had not slept in some time. That is what he told himself as he tried to formulate a response.

“He did not even know who I was,” the boy said. He leaned past his mother and looked up at Simon. “I bet he still does not know who I am.”

“George,” Simon said, guessing. He knew his nephew’s names, but was not sure which one this was. The boy took a step back, seemingly satisfied that Simon knew something about him, even if Simon was really only playing the odds.

“That is enough of that,” Darla said with a note of finality in her voice. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an old-style skeleton key. She placed it in George’s hand and he grabbed it and sprinted up the stairs, jumping over two sleeping forms that slept on the bottom landing.

“Who are all these people?” Simon asked.

Darla looked at Simon as if he were an alien asking questions after first landing on a foreign planet. “You really have no understanding of what is going on, do you?” Darla asked. “It is okay. There is much we need to discuss. But first, let us bring your friends inside. We do not want them to think that you have been kidnapped or something.”

A pang of jealousy reached through Simon, and he thought of Penelope in the car alone with Charles. He went to the door and held it open for Darla. He stepped over a few bodies. It was a bit lighter outside as sunrise was not too far off. As he opened the door, the little bit of flight leaked into the living room. He looked around the room and saw more shapes not moving in the distance. The house was in disarray, with much of the furniture moved off to the sides of the room. Piled up next to the front door was piles of wood for a wood-burning fireplace. Simon did not remember any fireplaces in this house growing up. He wondered what the wood was doing piled by the door.

Simon opened the door for Darla to lead the way outside. He closed the door behind him, carefully closing it so as not to make too much noise to wake the people inside. He had realized that neither Darla nor George had spoken particularly quietly while inside the house. The people sleeping in there must have been used to the loud talking. Or else they were very tired, and this was their opportunity to catch a few hours of sleep before heading out again.

Simon saw Penelope and Charles standing outside of the car. Charles had his pipe in his mouth and was puffing way, sending small puffs of smoke up into the sky.

“Ah, there you are,” Charles said. He started walking toward them, but then had a second thought and hung back behind near the car. Penelope, who had started walking with him, continued to walk toward Simon and met him halfway.

“Darla,” Simon said as he took Penelope’s hand in his. She seemed eager for him to do so, lifting her hand before she had drawn close to him. “Darla, this is my beautiful girlfriend Penelope. Penelope, this is my older sister, Darla.” Simon brought Penelope’s hands closer to Darla and let them introduce each other properly.

“It is very nice to meet you,” Darla said, shaking Penelope’s hand in her own. “My brother speaks very fondly of you.” Darla was lying, of course. Simon did not speak very fondly of anyone, and, besides, almost never brought up Penelope. It was not because he did not like her, but because he did not discuss his relationships with his family. He felt it was something that was outside what they needed to know. Instead, he spoke to them often about his business and where he was travelling.

“And you as well,” Penelope responded. They both sounded so sincere in their lies. Simon decided not to break the silence, allowing the two of them to evaluate each other. Now that they were outside, Simon was able to get a better look at Darla. She had indeed aged in the last two years since he had seen her. She was thin to the point of skinny, and as she held out her arm, Simon realized that it was not only that she had lost weight, but that her chubbiness had been replaced with a lean, muscular tone. Even her face, which in the darkened house had looked gaunt, in the early morning light looked streamlined, as if ready for battle.

Darla wore loose fitting jogging pants and a short-sleeved white blouse. Around her waist was an oversized fanny packed that hung behind her. It was filled to capacity and Simon could not guess what it contained. She wore brown work boots, and for the first time since she was ten, Simon could not see a hint of makeup on her. Her face did not have the look that she had been sleeping when they arrived. The candle she still held must have been the one he had seen in the top floor. A quick look upstairs and he saw that there was no longer a light illuminated in the window.

“And your other friend?” Darla asked. Penelope made the introductions while Simon stood chewing his lips and studying his sister. She looked stronger now, more confident. At first he thought it was the new muscularture, but slowly he was realizing it was more than that. She seemed confident not because of the way that she looked, but by the way she approached and spoke to other people.

Word count: 2,023

Word total: 32,959

Words remaining: 17,041

The weekend is very welcome. I need to catch up on some sleep after too many late nights (not all caused by writing). I also have Windows Home Servers to play with and new Zune waiting for us in the FedEx delivery center. Fun all around.