FIFTY-FOUR: I don’t believe in Skin-Dancers

“I just wanted to say, I’m sorry,” said Arous. She got up to leave but she had gotten close enough for his strapped hand to grab hers.

            “Luna!” he said again.

            “Please,” she said, but she couldn’t pull away from his icy grip.

            “Luna, luna. Luna!”

            “I don’t know what you want me to do?” she tried whispering, hoping to calm him.

            “You killed him! You killed him.”

            He began to bounce up and down, writhing against his restraints.

            “I told them I told them I told them there was a lunatic girl witch girl making googly eyes at the cats and singing I told them and opened all the cages I told them. LUNA!”

            A hand touched Arous’ shoulder. It was the Novice.

            “I’m afraid you’re going to have to back up a minute while we give him this injection,” said what Arous thought was a Minister who was also brandishing an injection. She looked all business dressed in navy pinstripe pants and a navy v-neck shirt.

            “What are you doing?” asked Arous.

            “He’ll calm down as soon as we give him this. Just step back,” the Minister said.

            “She was THTHTH-EEEE-RRRR-E,” said Jason.

            “Now just calm down this’ll only take a minute,” said Hopeful. She was trying to get behind him to hold him down. “Sometimes when family members come in they get all excited.  With him though, there’s another resident -”

            “I need you to hold him down, not talk,” said the Minister as she jabbed the shot into his upper arm.

            Jason relaxed.

            “Sorry,” said the Novice when they were done.  “I’ll stay here with Miss Simmons and monitor Jason’s heart-rate.”

            “I think it’s time for your break,” said the Minister. The Novice in pastel walked-away.

            The Minister pointed to a chair at a table. Arous sat down and the Minister took a seat across from her.

            “He’s your brother? You don’t look very much alike.”

            “I’m adopted,” said Arous, with her best attempt at indifferent confidence.

            “That explains why you’re full Amalgamese and he’s, well, not.”

            The way she said Amalgamese made Arous shiver. The woman in navy continued.

            “But it doesn’t explain why there is no mention of you in his records. His parents have come once and they insist that he’s an only child.”

            “Well, yes, I might be what you call the silver sheep of the family.” Arous chuckled all by herself.

            “You mean, black, don’t you?” She lifted one eyebrow but didn’t smile.

            “Oh, it’s a southern Amalgamese joke,” said Arous. “A throwback to the Lunese slave days. Very inappropriate. Sorry.”

            “I’m sure he had an outbreak seeing you, since he hasn’t seen you in awhile and you show up like this.” She continued, “You know, at his very short trial, your brother alleged that there was a shape-shifter that ordered the dogs to attack Mike. He said he saw her let out all the cats.”

            “I don’t believe in Skin-Dancers,” said Arous.

            “I didn’t say anything about Skin-Dancers, Miss Simmons.”