Tina Chan - imperfect

“Ow—wait, was that a compass? ” Jaiden said and popped up from behind the bed.

“Yeah, what else do you expect us to use when we get lost?” Chelsa asked.

“How does an electro-slate sound like to you? And they hurt a lot less than a huge hunk of metal being thrown at you.”

“Have you ever thought about what you would do if your electro-slate suddenly starts to malfunction? Then what would you do? At least you can rely on a compass to always point you north.”

“Touché,” Jaiden said. He dusted himself off and picked up the items scattered around him. “Don’t throw any more stuff at me,” he warned Chelsa with a teasing edge to his voice.

The streetlamps outside all went out at once, signaling the start of curfew. They wouldn’t be able to leave the inn until tomorrow morning at 5 a.m. without breaking the laws. Not that following the laws mattered much anymore; Kristi had transgressed the laws more times than she could count on her fingers within the past few days.

She hauled two of the newly purchased backpacks off the mattress and dropped them by the door where they could seize them in a matter of seconds. She was tempted to press Chelsa for more answers regarding Alex, but looking at her finally happy after two breakdowns in a day, Kristi couldn’t bring herself to harass Chelsa.

They couldn’t travel the next day. A freak snowstorm that was supposed to last from morning until evening blew in. The wind howled and rattled the window shutters, banging them against the outside wall. The snow was coming down so thick Kristi couldn’t see her hand in front of her face when she stuck her head out the bathroom window.

“Who’s ever heard of a blizzard in the middle of September?” she mumbled.

“Blame it on global warming,” Jaiden said.

“Global warming?” Chelsa asked. “Isn’t global warming supposed to make the earth warmer, not colder?”

“Overall, yes. But it can also seriously mess up the weather.”

“Well, at least we can dye your hair now. Who’s first?” Chelsa went into the bathroom and filled a bucket with water.

“I guess I’ll go first,” Kristi said. “Can you prepare the red-brown hair dye for me?”

“On it.”

Kristi took two towels off the rack in the bathroom and brushed out her hair. She returned to Chelsa and allowed her head to be dunked into the bucket of dye. Once Chelsa was satisfied every bit of her hair was covered in the dye, she allowed her to towel dry.

“How’s the color?” Kristi asked.

“I like it,” Jaiden said. “I never imagined you would look good with a lighter hair color.”

“The color matches your hazel eyes.” Chelsa motioned for Jaiden to come over. “You’re next. Choose which color you want.”

Chelsa and Kristi went to the bathroom. Kristi examined her new look while Chelsa dumped out the bucket and refilled it with fresh water and mixed in the dye Jaiden had chosen.

Dying Jaiden’s hair was much faster and he was soon finished. Kristi had to do a double take to reassure herself Jaiden was still, in fact, her brother; he looked like a new person.

“Anyone want to play cards on the electro-slate?” Kristi asked. “We have plenty of time to kill.”

“Count me in,” said Jaiden.

Chelsa poured the bucket of liquid down the sink. “Me too.”

Clang!

“Ow!”

Troop awoke with a start. He stared blearily at his clock. Who’s up at 3:34 a.m.? He turned over on his side and prepared to go back to sleep.

Crack!

He slipped out of bed and peered into the hallway. It was empty and dark. He cocked his head and listened for any sounds. There it was…the scuffling noise. Tiptoeing, Troop snuck towards his mom’s office, where the sound was coming from.

The office door was shut, but Troop could see some light spilling out from the crack running along the bottom. Fearing that there might be an intruder, he brought along his electro-slate in case he had to make an emergency call. Troop grasped the door handle and pushed it open, half expecting to see his mom wrapping up some last-minute work and half expecting to see a burglar.

It was neither.

“What are you doing here?” Troop demanded.

His father froze, caught red-handed.

“Get out, you low lying, flea-infested slug!”

Footsteps pounded down the hall. His mom hurtled into the office and looked from Troop to her ex-husband. At first she looked confused, then she looked furious. “Don’t you dare move,” she said.

Troop’s father put up his hand in defeat.

Troop tried to figure out what was going on. Why is he snooping in my mom’s home office? His mother, on the other hand, seemed to have a clear idea of what was happening. She had taken out her electro-slate and was calling someone.

“I need some backup,” she said. “There’s a spy in my office.”

Troop’s father looked hurt. “I’m not a spy. How could you accuse me of such thing?”

His mother ignored him. “Yes, this is work sensitive information he is going through. I don’t know how he found out the info is at my office.”

“Don’t move,” Troop said, noticing his father edging towards the window.

His father smiled a pinched looking smile. “Feels awfully warm in here, doesn’t it? Some fresh air would be nice.”

Troop lunged forwards, grabbing the tail of his father’s shirt.

His father cracked a maniacal grin and said, “Didn’t they teach you about personal space in school?” Then he twisted out of Troop’s grip and threw a small object at the window.

“Troop, get back!” his mom screamed.

The object exploded, shattering the window and sending splinters of glass flying everywhere. Troop ducked down, but not before catching the sight of his father tumbling out of the building. The smoke cleared in a matter of seconds. With his ears still ringing, Troop assessed the situation.

Aside from several minor cuts, both he and his mother were unharmed. The detonation had completely demolished the window and knocked askew the desk though.

“What was he looking for?” Troop asked, speaking louder than usual since his hearing was still impaired.

“Just information.” His mom rushed over to her desk and pulled out its drawers, ignoring the shards of glass strewn all over the floor. “At least I think that was what he was searching for,” she added later. She let out a small sigh. “Good, he didn’t find the file.”

Troop didn’t ask what type of information his mom would possibly have that others would try to steal. The Company did a decent amount of underhand work.

Somebody knocked on the door. “Reinforcement squad.”

“Just a bit too late,” Troop muttered.

“He returned!” Chelsa’s shriek rang out the next morning.

“Who returned?” Kristi rubbed her crusted eyelids.

“Ghost.”

Kristi cracked open her eyes; Chelsa was hugging a very saturated Ghost. His fur dripped with melted snow and tiny icicles had formed on his whiskers.

“Can someone hand me a towel?” Chelsa asked.

Jaiden handed her one.

Chelsa vigorously rubbed Ghost. Once Ghost was dried to her satisfaction, she stood up beaming and said, “Ready to go get the droid-horses?”

The landscape outside was beautiful and serene. It was the crack of dawn and the tunes whistled by a symphony of mourning doves, larks and warblers filled the air.

“You need a name,” Kristi said to her recently acquired droid-horse. “Mist. I’m calling you Mist.”

Mist looked at her with an expression that read: Call me whatever you want and I couldn’t have cared less.