Chapter Text
Logan’s ears were ringing. If he were to hold up his spoon, and look into its warped reflection he would probably be able to see a reddened cheek. He hadn’t even started eating before he knocked over a glass of orange juice and spilled it on the table.
“Logan! That’s disgusting! I told you- I told you not to make a mess!”
It wasn’t as if he did it on purpose. Though Mother said he was ‘such a big kid now! Honey, you’re growing up so fast!’ he was still small enough that reaching across the table was still a bit awkward at times. So it couldn’t be helped when his arm knocked into a cup.
Oh well. If only he were just a bit bigger and more grown up.
“Don’t just sit there staring at me. See this mess you’ve made? It’s all over the table! And your clothes! You foolish, foolish boy! That’s disgusting! Don’t be disgusting!”
Mother was wiping frantically to get some of the orange liquid out of Logan’s clothes. She was being a bit too forceful- enough so that he had to strain his muscles to keep her from pushing him off the chair.
Rec-tus ab-dom-inis. That's what his books said those muscles were called. He could just call them abs but he sounded smarter when he uses bigger words. It helped that he was very good at reading. Mother said he’s far above the reading level for kids his age. She says it was easier to learn when he was home schooled and could learn at his own pace.
“I’m sorry Mother. I didn’t mean to,” he pleaded, “It just happened.”
Mother stopped her frantic wiping and looked up to his eyes. She sighed and her demeanor seemed to soften. “It’s alright. I’m sorry I struck you.” She rubbed at his reddened cheek with her thumb. She lightly straightened his glasses and brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders. He knew it was imaginary because he was very good at keeping his clothes clean. She was kind of scared of dirt though, so sometimes she imagines there's dirt on him.
She stared at the juice dripping from the table into the floor, a tight frown on her lips. It was silent for a moment, nothing but the sound of orange juice dripping onto the wooden floor.
Pap... pap... pap
Logan knew not to interrupt her when she was thinking her way through a mess.
“I’m going to clean this up. Why don’t you change your shirt. It’s going to be sticky when it dries and will make you dirty.” Logan nodded to Mother and she turned back to scrubbing the table. Logan hopped down from his chair and left for his room.
Bare feet padded against wood as Logan made his way through the hall. As usual the wood was spotless. Not a single smudge or piece of dirt on the floors or walls. Logan even helped Mother keep cobwebs out of all the corners of the house.
Mother hated dirt and any sort of mess. Logan thought that if she could, she would probably clean the whole forest free of dirt. But she couldn’t and Logan supposed he could see why this would make her so tense all the time.
Logan knew something was off in her. Even someone as young as he was could see it. People weren't supposed to lose all logic when something was just a little bit dirty. It made him worry for her. He didn’t like seeing her so upset. It made his throat feel like it was closing up with an emotion he hadn’t really identified yet.
Sometimes Logan imagined there were two people inside of her head. The first was a normal Mother. Her true self. The one that built puzzles with him and ran her fingers through his hair while he fell asleep.
The other Mother is usually there when there’s dirt. And suddenly the gentle touches turn sharp. ‘Dirty! Dirty! Disgusting! Dirty!’ That must be thought on a loop in the second, angry Mother’s head. ‘Dirt, dirt, dirt!’ That’s all the other version of her seems to talk about.
That was alright though. Logan loved her and knew she got very stressed at times. And he knew it’s not really two people shoved inside her head. It’s just how Mother was. But if she wanted to try to rid their home of everything she found disgusting, he didn’t see the harm in that.
Even if it is illogical.
Either way, he loved her.
After throwing his shirt into the hamper, Logan noticed that his chest had, in fact, gotten a bit sticky from the spill. Mother would not like that. He was supposed to be clean. He grabbed a new shirt (as well as a cloth to wash his chest off) and made his way to the bathroom.
Logan pulled his step stool out from under the sink and lifted himself up to wash his chest. Before he could turn on the faucet, he noticed something green peeking out of the drain. Mother keeps every room in the house spotless, and that included the bathroom, so there shouldn’t be a single spec of dirt in the sink.
Logan pinched the green item between his fingers and pulled. A vine of leaves came up from the pipes, spotted with a few yellow flowers scattered throughout the stalk. The entire vine was probably the same length as his two arms spread out wide. It must have grown quickly. Mother had just cleaned out the pipes from where she could reach under the sink.
To some, seeing vines grow out of a home’s plumbing might be confusing or unordinary. But this was a normal occurrence in Logan and Mother’s home. Mother said the earth was trying to take their house. Logan didn’t know if he believed that. The earth is just earth. It doesn’t have goals like people do. Or perhaps she was using person-if-ication. Logan read that it was when people give human traits to objects and animals. He didn’t like English as much as science but he still knew a lot.
He was quick to pull the plant out the rest of the way and throw it out the bathroom window. He wasn’t going to tell Mother about this. Mother was already stressed from when he made a mess. Her brain probably had a lot of cor-ti-sol. She didn’t need any more of that.
He hurried to wipe off his chest, before making his way down to lunch. Mother was still scrubbing the table where the orange juice had spilled so he sat down in a different chair. The floor was clean long before Mother decided to stop scrubbing.
After his initial mistake, lunch went as it usually did. Logan ranted to Mother about what he learned that day while she stared, humming an affirmation every once in a while to show she was listening. She always vigilantly watched as he ate, making sure he didn’t create a mess or get dirty. He very rarely did though, especially as he got older. But today, after he spilt his juice, she seemed extra nervous.
Her eyes reminded him of a hawk, focused on its prey before lunging. Or maybe a cat would be more accurate. There was a stray one that sometimes wandered into their yard. Logan had watched with the utmost interest as it had stalked and pounced on an unsuspecting mourning dove.
Maybe it will be around today. If Mother was on the other side of the house or he was somewhere she wouldn’t spot him, maybe he could lure it closer. Sometimes she was dirty, so of course he would be careful.
“Can I do my school work outside in the front yard today? I promise I’ll be able to focus.”
Mother eyed him warily. “You always get yourself distracted when you do your work outside. You can play in the yard when you're finished with your work.”
But, it was so nice out now that it was spring and he felt restless from being in the house all winter. Their porch had a wooden swing on it that was so relaxing to sit on while working. It would be so nice to get his work done outside. And maybe find that cat.
“Please, I did most of it yesterday so I don’t have that much,” he bargained, “I promise I’ll stay focused on it. It's so nice out today.”
Mother sighed but sent him a small smile. “Fine. But if I see you wandering the yard or unfocused, it’s back inside until you get it done.”
Logan brightened and when they finished eating, he was quick to wash his plate and go outside.
He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t have much work left to do. He rocked himself on the swinging bench and focused on the sound of it creaking as he worked. Normally he was very good at his school work, but it could be very boring sometimes. He had some reading assignments he really liked though. At the moment he was stuck on one of the word problems and he bit his pencil in thought.
His eyes wandered up to the yard in front of him. Their little home was surrounded by forest and he listened to the sound of the trees swaying lightly in the breeze. Their yard was very neatly kept- mostly grass, moss, and a simple garden where Mother rarely touched. But when she did, she always wore plastic covers to keep dirt off her shoes and hands. The line between the cabin property and the wilderness beyond was clearly marked from where the neatly cut grass transitioned suddenly into long, wild grass and weeds.
He wasn’t really allowed to go into it because there could be ticks, but if he stayed at the edge he could look into it and try catching any bugs within arms reach. If Mother wasn’t looking, of course.
The front door opened and Logan quickly stuck his head down to face the paper. He was focused on his work. He wasn’t distracted.
Mother ran a hand through his hair as she passed him and stepped off the porch. He scrunched his nose at her and made a show of patting his hair back down. It made her laugh and he felt pleased with himself for that. She began sweeping the neatly cut grass with the broom she brought with her and he turned back to his work.
The sun felt nice against his skin and the rocking of the bench was soothing. He noted that Mother must be relaxed out in the sun as well if her mindless humming was anything to go by. He was just finishing up answering the last question when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
Right at the edge of the property, standing in the tall grass, were three children. They all looked to be about his age. They stood, staring at him and Logan stopped his swinging to stare back. According to Mother there aren’t many homes close to them. The woods surrounding their house was fairly secluded. He had no clue where these children came from.
“Mother?” He called out.
Mother glanced up from where she was tearing down the vines that had climbed up the side of the house. When she saw the three children she snapped up straight, and gripped the broom as if she were preparing to beat off a wild animal.
“Logan, go back inside,” she commanded shortly and stepped off the porch.
“Who are they?” He asked, “Do you know them?”
“Logan. Inside.” Her face grew paler. It was like she’d seen a ghost.
He did as he was told and collected his school work. But when he stepped through the doorway, he kept the door open to watch. Technically he was still obeying her.
“Go away!” Mother shouted from the bottom of the porch, “Go! Get out of here!”
“You don’t own the forest,” the kid with curly, reddish hair yelled back. "We aren't in your domain." He stood proudly in the tall grass, like he was trying to challenge Mother.
“Stay away from my home! You filthy children!” Mother waved the broom at them as a threat. The children didn’t seem to feel very threatened by it. They just kept staring. The smallest child was specifically staring at him, unblinking. Round glasses rested on his face. Logan, never usually able to hold eye contact very well, let his eyes follow the conversation instead.
“Why?” The oldest child challenged, “Were we not wanted at this exact second?” His tone had a sort of bite to it. Like the boy was bitter about something. Mother would never let Logan speak to her with such sass.
“No! Leave my home! You’re disgusting!” Mother’s voice had become shrill, and Logan cringed away from it. Their clothes did look very dirty, though. Perhaps they were homeless? Mother must have sensed his movement because she turned to look at him. Upon seeing him still there she moved her hands in a frantic shooing motion before turning back to the children.
“Can we come play with him?” The smallest of them pointed to Logan with one hand, while the hand held the oldest child's shirt.
“You don’t touch him!” Mother shrieked, “Keep your filth away from him! Now, leave!”
The children stood there in silence, watching. Upon not receiving an answer, Mother shouted a final, “Go home!” before whirling around to stomp up the porch steps.
“We are home.”
He didn’t know which child said it, but Mother immediately tensed.
Her face twisted up in a funny way, like she was sucking a lemon. The door shut behind her with a slam and she ushered Logan further into the house. “Do you know who those children are, Mother?” he asked.
Mother knelt down and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. She opened her mouth to answer but hesitated. Her eyes were wide and to Logan’s alarm, were growing shiny with tears. She blinked furiously and shook her head. “No. Those are just dirty, stray children," her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. "I don’t want you playing with them. Do you understand me, Logan?”
Why would stray children warrant such a reaction from Mother. Was it the dirt on their clothes? She is very particular about keeping dirt away.
Mother shook his shoulders, “I asked if you understood me.”
Logan was quick to nod. “Yes, yes I understand.”
Mother nodded to herself and let out a shaky breath. “Good,” her eyes flicked nervously to the front door. “Good,” she repeated. She must have been extra on edge today because of the juice.
“I don’t want you going back outside for the rest of the day, alright?” She rubbed her hands up and down his arms. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure him or herself with the motion.
“Ok. Can we play a board game instead then? I’m finished with my work.”
She smiled warmly at him and rested their foreheads together. “Alright, why don’t you pick out a game and I’ll meet you in the living room to play?”
Logan rushed to pick out a game. Between the juice and the stray children, she must be so worked up right now. It would be a good idea to get Mother’s mind off her stress. A board game would be the perfect distraction.
When the day was over, and the crickets were chirping out Logan’s bedroom window as he tried to fall asleep, muffled crying came from Mother’s room. For a moment Logan lay in bed trying to decide if he should go comfort her. But he didn’t even know why she was upset. And he didn’t know how to comfort her.
So he let himself focus on the sound of crickets, and tried to ignore the crying.
That's not the last time they see the children.