Free Puppet by Pauline C. Harris

his anger over Jed’s lying achievement.
    “You wish he would do something noble,” I say.
    He nods.  “Dad’s a genius, I’ve never doubted that.  He just seems to waste it on the wrong things.”  His declaration seems harsh but at the same time, I can understand it. 
    “Jed isn’t exactly the noble type,” I say lightly, glancing in James’s direction. 
    He snorts.  “I know.  I should probably be used to it by now, shouldn’t I?”
    I smile and continue to watch the road.  “I’m sorry,” I eventually say.  “About your mom – never really being able to know her.”  James sends me a small smile.  “I know what it feels like,” I go on.  “Especially when people pity you and you aren’t sure what to say.”  I think back to the sympathetic glances I would get at the orphanage.  “Because it’s not so much that you lost it...It’s that other feeling – the loss of something that could have been wonderful.”
    James nods and we sit in silence for a few moments.  He eventually looks away from me and out the window.   
    “So,” I add after a pause.  “James Peregrine Orville,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, giggling when James shoots me an irritated look.  “Now you know how it feels when Jed insists on calling me Penelope.” 
    James makes a face and shakes his head.  “Penelope’s a pretty name.”
    I snort.  “Are you kidding?  It’s terrible.” 
    “Well what’s a name you do like?”
    I frown.  “Why?”
    “So that can be your middle name.  You can pick one.”  He smiles.
    I grin, considering the idea.  Something elegant and pretty; very much unlike my own.  “Well, it has to go well in between Penelope and Trump,” I tell James somewhat sadly. 
    “What about Lisette?” he asks.
    I shake my head.  “It sounds weird.”  I pause in thought.  “There was a girl at the orphanage named Lillian and I was always jealous of her name, but it wouldn’t sound right with Penelope...”
    James shrugs.  “How about Rose?”
    I bite my lip.  “Penelope Rose...”  I cock my head.  “It’s pretty, I guess.” 
    James watches me.  “But you don’t like it?”
    I shrug.  “Maybe.”
    We sit in silence for a moment and I can hear James tapping his fingers against the dashboard.  “How about Penelope Mae?” he finally asks.
    “Mae?”
    He nods.  “It’s simple but I think it sounds nice.” 
    “Penelope Mae.”  I tap my fingers on the steering wheel in time with the syllables.  “Penelope Mae Trump.”  I laugh.  “I still hate Trump.”
    James grins.  “But you like Mae?”
    I smile and nod. 
    “Well then, now you have a middle name,” James states triumphantly.   
    I laugh.  “And what about your middle name?  Ever think about changing it?”
    James shakes his head, as a slightly disgusted expression crosses his face.  “Unfortunately, I’m afraid Dad would be offended,” he tells me.  “He takes pride in basically anything and everything he does, including my name.” 
    “Well, James Peregrine it is then,” I say with an impish grin. 
    He sighs and shakes his head.  We drive along in silence for awhile before James tells me to turn around and we’re headed slowly back towards the house.  The moon is hidden by a mass of clouds so James tells me to slow down and I do, trying to see beyond the small range of the headlights. 
    “Pen?” he asks after awhile.
    “Yeah?”  I’m leaning forward in my seat, trying to find a familiar landmark or house to tell how far away we are.  So far, it’s too dark to successfully distinguish anything.   
    “Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” 
    I frown and my foot comes off the pedal for a moment as the words try to make sense in my mind, piecing themselves together into something I don’t really understand.  “What?” I ask, startled. 
    “Well, you grew up in an orphanage without parents, so I just wondered.” 
    “Um...” I trail off,