inside, the goblin sisters scrambling to straighten everything up.
âThat used to be my job, helping out Charon,â I told Claire.
âIâd hate to be crammed in that little box,â she said.
âI grew up inside a theater. I was used to small spaces.â
âBoy!â came a familiar hard voice.
I turned and there stood my mother. She looked as beautiful as ever, her black-and-white-striped hair sticking straight up, her china-doll face still fixed forever in an expression of perpetual vague surprise. She reached out her arms and pulled me in tight for a crushing hug.
âHey, Mom.â
âLet me look.â She held me out at armâs length. âYou donât eat enough.â
âI missed you, too, Mom.â
Since her facial expression couldnât change, it wasnât easy to know how she was feeling. But I could feel the tension in her hands.
âAre you okay?â I asked.
She stared at me, but didnât say anything.
âOh, she just missed her Boy,â said Claire, putting her arm around my mom. âIsnât that right, love?â
My mom jerked her head up and down in a nod.
Then my father was there. He always knew how to take up a room. Partly because he towered over everyone, even me. But it was more than that. He just had this presence. Solid. Like a mountain.
âWelcome home, Boy,â he said in his deep voice. He put his massive, stitched hand on my shoulder and smiled. âIt is good to have you here.â
âItâs good to be back,â I said.
âLet me take that bag,â he said to Claire. âWeâll get you settled into your room.â
Claire cleared her throat and looked at me.
âDad,â I said. âClaire and I kind of hoped we could share a room.â
He smiled. âYes, I thought you would.â
âUh, and not my old room.â
âIt would be too small for the two of you,â he agreed.
âUm . . .â I had expected some sort of disagreement. But here we were, asking to be treated like grown-ups, and they were just . . . agreeing. âYeah. Exactly.â
âRuthven thought we should give you Medusaâs room here on the main floor.â
âNo oneâs taken it?â I asked.
He shook his head. âMost do not feel comfortable being so close to humans all the time.â
âAnd it was the room she died in,â I said.
âYes, that too.â
MY PARENTS DROPPED us off in front of Medusaâs old dressing room. I noticed there was a star-shaped spot on the door where her name had been taken off.
âThere will be time to catch up more tomorrow,â said my father. âBut now your mother and I must get ready for tonightâs performance.â
âYeah, I figured it was about that time,â I said.
âHenri should watch The Show tonight. So he can see what it is we do here.â
âYou mean, besides hide,â I said.
âYes. Exactly. I . . .â He frowned for a moment, like he was thinking carefully about what he wanted to say. Then, âI wanthim to know we are more than just cowering relics of a superstitious past. We still do good work here.â
âYou got it, Dad,â I said.
He nodded, then turned to go. Mom followed silently behind him.
âMom,â I said.
She turned her head back in my direction, although she didnât actually look at me.
âI hope youâre not mad at me,â I said. âFor bringing Henri. I think if you give him a chance, youâll really like him.â
She stood there for a moment, staring at a fixed point about two feet to my left. Then she just turned and walked away.
âGive her time, yeah?â said Claire. âSheâll come around.â
âI hope so,â I said.
She opened the door and I saw that the room hadnât changed at all since the last time Iâd been there. The lights were still draped