SLIME, SNOT AND SUPER POWERS

Then the telephone rang and I ...

Oh. No.

... remembered.

Remembered how the phone had also rung last Saturday when I was talking to Karen. Remembered how it had woken up her grandson, Viggo. Karen had promised to look after him for half an hour while her daughter went shopping. I hadn’t even noticed the boy until the telephone made him cry. Karen had to take the call, so I’d come to her rescue and tried to console the little one. I made a few funny faces, and it worked, quickly turning his tears to laughter. But had it worked too well? That was the question.

Of course he wasn’t the one who’d robbed the armored vehicle, but if I’d managed to infect a ten-month-old baby with superpowers … It was a disaster waiting to happen.

 

* * *

 

A car was parked in the double carport at the last house on Brookhill Road, and there were lights in the windows. Carefully I sneaked around the house and glanced through the windows.

Dining room—empty.

Living room—empty.

Bathroom—empty.

Office—empty.

Nursery—oh no…

Karen’s daughter lay facedown on the floor, her arms at her side, her face concealed behind her long blonde hair. Unmoving. Next to her head was a child’s shape sorting cube made of wood.

I heard some babbling and caught sight of Viggo. He was sitting next to the red bookshelf that was stuffed with toys. He was wearing his flying suit and held a toy car in his hands. Curiously, he turned the car over, raised it to his mouth, and snapped it in half with his toothless gums.

My legs threatened to collapse underneath me.

Little Viggo wasn’t a disaster waiting to happen. He was a disaster that had already happened.

Then the telephone rang and it dawned on me.

Oh. No.

The phone had also rung last Saturday when I was talking to Karen and it had woken up her grandson, Viggo. Karen had promised to look after him for half an hour while her daughter went shopping. I hadn’t even noticed the boy until the telephone made him cry. Karen had to take the call, so I’d come to her rescue and tried to console the little one. I made a few funny faces, and it worked, quickly turning his tears to laughter. But had it worked too well? That was the question.

Of course he wasn’t the one who’d robbed the armored vehicle, but if I’d managed to infect a ten-month-old baby with superpowers … It was a disaster waiting to happen.

 

* * *

 

A car was parked in the double carport at the last house on Brookhill Road, and there were lights in the windows. Carefully I sneaked around the house and glanced through the windows.

Dining room—empty.

Living room—empty.

Bathroom—empty.

Office—empty.

Nursery—oh no…

Karen’s daughter lay facedown on the floor, her arms at her side, her face concealed behind her long blonde hair. Unmoving. Next to her head was a child’s shape sorting cube made of wood.

I heard some babbling and caught sight of Viggo. He was sitting next to the red bookshelf that was stuffed with toys. He was wearing his flying suit and held a toy car in his hands. Curiously, he turned the car over, raised it to his mouth, and snapped it in half with his toothless gums.

My legs threatened to collapse underneath me.

Little Viggo wasn’t a disaster waiting to happen. He was a disaster that had already happened.