Rana

Her eyes opened on the same crack in the ceiling. Rana did her routine muscle and tendon check from head to toe, then stood. The foam mattress she’d slept on dissolved at a glance.

Lea lay on the couch where Rana had put her, awake but unfocused, not present. The arrangement of her arms and legs made her look like an abandoned doll. Deep circles under Lea’s eyes contrasted her pale skin. She wore the same clothes as yesterday, too. Lea used to change outfits often for fun.

Rana’s presence was ignored.

It was going to be another long day.

She ducked into the bathroom. Though the derelict building had no water, Rana made a replacement. Thin green slime flowed from her palm like a faucet. She rinsed herself, and the droplets fell down the drain along with the dirt they carried. She filled the toilet’s cistern, flushed, and washed her hands.

Rana lifted Lea, undid her braid, washed her hair, hosed her down, filled the cistern, and waited outside until she heard a flush. She braided Lea’s hair and hauled her to breakfast.

They came around the corner to see Wendi bringing a forkful of pancakes and eggs to her mouth, the utensil daintily gripped between her thumb and index finger like a toothpick. Unaided, Wendi fed herself, cutting pieces with her fork one-handed, and used a napkin, all without breaking something or making a mess. This marked a significant improvement, but it wasn’t even a milestone at this point.

Daniel enjoyed watching breakfast while reading the newspaper open on the table.

“Morning, Rana,” Kenta said from the kitchen as he flipped a pan with his hair.

She sat Lea and herself at the table, served them from the heaping platefuls of eggs and pancakes, and cut the meal into pieces. “Where’s Paul?” she asked.

“Already left for work,” Daniel said without taking his eyes off the newspaper.

She fed herself and Lea efficiently, stacked the plates for Kenta, and half-carried Lea upstairs. Cassie breezed by them on the first floor to grab a late breakfast. The bat girl found them ascending the third flight, probably having left her dirty dishes scattered.

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After satisfying her needs, Cassie cloaked herself with invisibility, jumped through a window, and flew away.

Rana took Lea the rest of the way, laid her on a couch with a clear window view, and settled in to read. When she caught herself going over the same paragraph for the fifth time, she turned off the Shew Stone and closed her eyes.

When she awoke, the sun had shifted to late afternoon. Lea hadn’t moved. “I’m going downstairs for a minute.” Lea might’ve twitched in response.

Rana hesitated above the ice chest. She thrust her hand forward.

A bloody fist struck the bottom of her ice well. Water leaked through the cracks to pool and reflect a younger face.

Rana blinked and found herself clasping a damp soda bottle.

She hated the cold.

After fishing two drinks from the ice chest and ensuring no one was watching, she cradled the hand to her chest. Ice water hurt, a lot. She waited until the feeling returned to her fingers, and the shivering stopped. Her brother once said her kind could make a cold-resistant insulating foam, but Rana didn’t know how. She braced herself, grabbed the sweating drinks, and headed up.

There, in the hallway, Kenta found her.

“How is she?”

“Same.”

Kenta frowned, a common expression for him these days. “I don’t approve of this.”

“What?”

“You’re coddling her.”

How annoying. “You want to take care of her?”

“No, I’m saying we leave her alone, and eventually, she’ll get hungry, bored, or lonely enough to climb out of this rut.”

“You’re not using your head.” Why did he never think things through? “We can’t leave her alone for long. I should get back.”

“You’re the one who’s not thinking. You feed her, you clean her, you probably wipe her bum—do you really think she’ll go back to the way she was when you’re doing everything for her? What incentive does she have?”

“Things have been crazy. She needs rest.”

“What she needs is a swift kick in the pants!”

She shook her head, “You’re being unreasonable.”

“You’re playing house!”

“Why don’t you try doing something useful for a change instead of criticizing others!”

“I’m home…” Paul said as he came around the corner, concern on his face. He carried a wad of cash, some groceries, and a box full of vacuum tubes. “I got what we need to make a battery-operated radio… since Cassie isn’t here all the time, and I was thinking we shouldn’t pressure her into doing that so much.”

“I’ll bring Lea down to listen. It’ll be good for her.” Rana walked away, calm, her hands on the icy drinks feeling like someone was driving knives between her knuckles. The boys’ stares drilled into her spine.

By the time the two of them reached the lobby, Daniel was directing the radio’s assembly. Rana made a foam ‘beanbag’ and sat with Lea. They had dinner and, before long, the radio was playing music.

Rana found she’d drifted off. Night fell, and the two of them were alone. She lifted Lea and headed upstairs. Cassie, on her descent, met them briefly at the halfway point.

Rana carried Lea the rest of the way to their room, got her ready for bed, and put her on the couch. Rana reclined on a new-made foam mattress. When she looked up, she saw a spider had made its web in the corner. The spider was wrapping a fly in silk for its larder.

She stared at that same crack in the ceiling and closed her eyes.

This isn’t normal. People are resilient—bad things happen, but they bounce back. Maybe Lea hadn’t stopped falling.