“Why can’t I have a Reflectix?” Becca asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. Her face was sour and pinched under her heavy black eyeliner. Twelve was a little young for such heavy makeup, but Becca’s mom was tired of the fight.
“It’s just not a good idea, honey.”
“I saved up the money on my own like you said. Then you said I had to wait for summer break. Well, it’s summer break. What’s your excuse now, Mom?”
MaryBeth focused all her attention on placing the clean glasses into the cupboard, buying herself time to come up with a reasonable answer to Becca’s complaint. If only it had taken Becca a few more months to save the money, she would have been too old. The whole discussion would have been moot.
Single parenting was a bitch sometimes. No “because your dad said so” to fall back on. Nobody to share her fears with. She had tried her best to raise Becca to be happy, well adjusted. And here they were, arguing over an alien critter.
When the aliens first landed, there was mass chaos. Everyone was afraid of death, destruction, invasion. People boarded up their houses and fled to the countryside. The weeks after, while the aliens talked to government officials and learned languages and customs, were pure torture.
But the much feared invasion never came. It turned out the aliens were entrepreneurs, not conquerors. They came bearing merchandise, not guns. Or not precisely merchandise. Pets.
Every alien had a small shoulder companion. Each pet was unique and would live as long as their host lived. The aliens had come for one purpose– to open a new market for their Reflectix pets on Planet. Earth.
The pets were hatched from eggs. The aliens insisted that the temperament of the Reflectix reflected the soul of its companion owner. The buyer had to sit with the egg until it hatched. The pets initially communicated with chirps, trills, and waves of emotion, Once bonded, the connection was for life.
Things in the Planet Earth market started poorly. For some reason, adult humans couldn’t hatch them. On other planets with other aliens, the age of the host companion had never been an issue. The Reflectix aliens had no idea how to solve the problem.
Just when aliens were about to give up and peddle the Reflectix elsewhere, the Prime Minister of Canada’s daughter, twelve years old, hatched her father’s egg. A beautiful creature that resembled a Nutcracker Sugar Plum Fairy emerged.
The Prime Minster’s daughter was never seen again without her living doll on her shoulder. The girl’s love of dance was reflected in her Reflectix. That winter, her Reflectix danced the role of Sugar Plum fairy along with her person. The Reflectix’s presence strengthened and enhanced the girl’s natural talent.
Soon every kid under thirteen wanted one. Some older teens tried and succeeded to hatch some, but mainly it was children before puberty who could manage the bonding. The aliens wisely priced them to sell to any child in a home that had the means of supporting the little creatures. All manner of fantastic beasts from the depths of childhood whimsy came from the Reflectix eggs.
However, there were whispered tales of monsters hatched by maladjusted kids. The aliens made the bad Reflectix disappear, but that didn’t mean they didn’t happen. There were tales of accidents swept under the rug to keep the powerful alien salespeople content. Merchant ships, especially in space didn’t go about unarmed.
Mary Beth told herself that she loved her daughter. However, there was no denying that she was a dark, moody girl. What kind of creature would Becca hatch? A terrifying monster from the cover of a gothic music album? Or something worse?
“Well, it’s too late. I already have one!” Becca announced in a triumphant squeal.
Mary Beth scrabbled to keep the glass in her hand from hitting the counter. Becca reached into her book bag and drew out the Reflectix. Mary Beth gasped. It was a tiny Pre-Raphaelite angel that glowed with golden light.
“Trudy wants to know why you’re crying, Mom.”
“Is that her name? Trudy?” MaryBeth asked. Becca nodded warily. “Well, Trudy, I’m just that happy. For both of you.”
“Will you help me make her some clothes?” Becca asked.
“Sure. Black, I presume?”
Becca and Trudy laughed. The bright kitchen light reflected from Trudy’s sharp little vampire fangs.
“I see,” Mary Beth replied. “Black it is, then.” She stooped to look Trudy in the eye and said in her sternest mom voice: “No feeding on the cat! Or any other family member!”
“I would never!” The dark little angel replied in a voice like warm sugar. “Except if they were hurting my Becca.” Trudy looked up at Becca with shining eyes.
“I’m glad she has you to look out for her, Trudy.”
As Becca and Trudy went away to Becca’s room to settle the Reflectix in, Mary Beth felt as though she might truly mean it.
