Free This Broken Wondrous World by Jon Skovron Page B

inside, the goblin sisters scrambling to straighten everything up.
    â€œThat used to be my job, helping out Charon,” I told Claire.
    â€œI’d hate to be crammed in that little box,” she said.
    â€œI grew up inside a theater. I was used to small spaces.”
    â€œBoy!” 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.
    â€œHey, Mom.”
    â€œLet me look.” She held me out at arm’s length. “You don’t eat enough.”
    â€œI missed you, too, Mom.”
    Since her facial expression couldn’t change, it wasn’t easy to know how she was feeling. But I could feel the tension in her hands.
    â€œAre you okay?” I asked.
    She stared at me, but didn’t say anything.
    â€œOh, she just missed her Boy,” said Claire, putting her arm around my mom. “Isn’t that right, love?”
    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.
    â€œWelcome home, Boy,” he said in his deep voice. He put his massive, stitched hand on my shoulder and smiled. “It is good to have you here.”
    â€œIt’s good to be back,” I said.
    â€œLet me take that bag,” he said to Claire. “We’ll get you settled into your room.”
    Claire cleared her throat and looked at me.
    â€œDad,” I said. “Claire and I kind of hoped we could share a room.”
    He smiled. “Yes, I thought you would.”
    â€œUh, and not my old room.”
    â€œIt would be too small for the two of you,” he agreed.
    â€œUm . . .” I had expected some sort of disagreement. But here we were, asking to be treated like grown-ups, and they were just . . . agreeing. “Yeah. Exactly.”
    â€œRuthven thought we should give you Medusa’s room here on the main floor.”
    â€œNo one’s taken it?” I asked.
    He shook his head. “Most do not feel comfortable being so close to humans all the time.”
    â€œAnd it was the room she died in,” I said.
    â€œYes, that too.”

    MY PARENTS DROPPED us off in front of Medusa’s old dressing room. I noticed there was a star-shaped spot on the door where her name had been taken off.
    â€œThere will be time to catch up more tomorrow,” said my father. “But now your mother and I must get ready for tonight’s performance.”
    â€œYeah, I figured it was about that time,” I said.
    â€œHenri should watch The Show tonight. So he can see what it is we do here.”
    â€œYou mean, besides hide,” I said.
    â€œYes. Exactly. I . . .” He frowned for a moment, like he was thinking carefully about what he wanted to say. Then, “I wanthim to know we are more than just cowering relics of a superstitious past. We still do good work here.”
    â€œYou got it, Dad,” I said.
    He nodded, then turned to go. Mom followed silently behind him.
    â€œMom,” I said.
    She turned her head back in my direction, although she didn’t actually look at me.
    â€œI hope you’re not mad at me,” I said. “For bringing Henri. I think if you give him a chance, you’ll really like him.”
    She stood there for a moment, staring at a fixed point about two feet to my left. Then she just turned and walked away.
    â€œGive her time, yeah?” said Claire. “She’ll come around.”
    â€œI hope so,” I said.
    She opened the door and I saw that the room hadn’t changed at all since the last time I’d been there. The lights were still draped