Minders by Michele Jaffe

Ford’s tone was definitely menacing as he said, “You asked for it,” and lunged for the little girl.
    Stop him , Sadie wanted to yell at Cali. Don’t let him hurt —
    Ford snatched Lulu into his arms and started tickling her ribs. “Help!” Lulu cried through her giggles.
    Sadie was fascinated. Ford’s mindscape was radically changed from the windy place it had been at the Castle, the sounds in a completely different register and somehow slower, simpler. As if his thoughts and feelings for his sister were uncomplicated, Sadie noted.
    The dustiness of his conversation with Cali vanished as well, and instead of images the points of color were moving around freely, like people at a station waiting for their train to be called. His mind seemed pliant, flexible. Playful , Sadie thought, although that didn’t sound very scientific. She’d have to think of a better way to describe it when she was in front of the Committee.
    He lifted Lulu up and swung her over his shoulder. Sadie found herself laughing as Lulu protested, “That’s not fair, you’re bigger than I am, so you shouldn’t be able to use your arms, next time you can only use your feet, or maybe what if you just don’t bend your elbows and—”
    He paused to give Cali a kiss and said, “I’ll be right back.”
    “No he won’t,” Lulu told her from behind Ford’s back as he carried her to the hallway. “I’m going to get him for this, I’m going to—”
    She went silent as they approached a partially open door on the left, and Ford’s mind filled with static that didn’t subside until they got to the door at the end of the hallway with a purple marker sign taped to it that said: PALACE OF PRINCESS LULU. NO ENTRY WITHOUT PERMISSION.
    “Permission to enter,” Ford asked on the threshold.
    “Permission granted,” Lulu told him. “But you have to read me a story.”
    “You can read yourself a story,” Ford said, flipping her onto her bed.
    Only the bedside light was on, but the room was small, so it was enough to take in the bunk bed with pink comforters, an unfinished dollhouse, and two stacks of milk crates, one side holding neatly folded clothes and the other side holding books. The room was meticulously tidy. Sadie felt at home.
    Sadie hadn’t seen the dog follow them, but he nosed the door open, lumbered up onto the bed beside the girl, and sat looking at her expectantly.
    “See, Copernicus wants you to read to him,” Ford pointed out.
    Lulu rolled her eyes. “You just want to go make out with Cali.”
    “True,” Ford said. He bent over and looked under the bunk bed. “Nothing lurking,” he announced. “Good—”
    “Mom didn’t go to work again today.” Lulu’s voice was quiet and tense. “It’s the third week in a row.”
    Another burst of static. Dots of color collected into the image of the ATM screen saying INSUFFICIENT CREDIT in Ford’s mind. “I know. But I’m sure she’ll be better soon.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because that’s what always happens. Don’t worry, okay?”
    Lulu nodded, her little face somber. She leaned toward him to whisper, “Could you look again? Just to be sure?”
    Ford put his finger to his lips. In one swift motion he dropped into a push-up position and peered under the bed.
    “Still no monsters,” he reported, standing back up. “No way they could have hidden that fast. You’re safe.”
    Lulu held up two dolls that appeared to be from the dollhouse and said, “Kiss Bless and Noshe good night.”
    Ford grabbed one of them and pretended to start making out with her, causing Lulu to squeal with laughter, then dropped the dolls and reached for her, and she squealed even more. Sadie tried to imagine what it would be like to have someone who made your mind relax the way Lulu made Ford’s.
    He gave his sister a soppy kiss on the forehead and was at the door when she spoke.
    “How come when Cali says ‘I love you’ you don’t say it back?”
    He stopped on the threshold and