everything. It was a smart house, according to the real estate brochure. Scout thought it was probably getting smarter than her three-person family and would one day turn on them.
She’d seen a house do that back in North Carolina.
The Nightstalkers had blown it up and then burned it down to ashes.
She didn’t think her mother would be happy if that happened.
Sometimes, though, when she saw her dad at his computer and the Quicken program was open, she had a feeling he wouldn’t be too upset to collect on the insurance.
Scout turned on her toothbrush and stuck it in her mouth, keeping her lips shut so the drool didn’t run down her face. She wanted to be out of here as soon as she wolfed down the skimpy breakfast her mother was preparing. She wandered back to the big window and watched the barge across the river. The crew had just arrived and tied off their skiff and were getting ready for a day’s work. A speedboat roared by, some guy water-skiing behind it in a wet suit, because May was too early, even in Tennessee, plus it was slightly chilly at 7:15 in the a.m. There was a cluster of ducks near their dock and Scout tried to remember what that was called—a gaggle? Or was that geese?—which got her trying to remember the difference between ducks and geese.
Her family had two Sea-Doos on lifts on one side of their dock, but the boatlift was empty. Her dad sat every evening after work with his catalogues and laptop and looked at boats the way her mother went through her yoga attire catalogues and Southern Living magazines. Weird the way everyone wanted different stuff and spent so much time looking—
Scout yelped because her mouth suddenly got hot and her back molar was tingling like she’d lost the filling and hit a nerve. She jerked the toothbrush out of her mouth so quick, she forgot to shut it off, spraying herself and the blue window seat and the window with spittle and toothpaste. Before she hit the off button, it stopped. As did the music and the lights overhead.
Her first thought was she’d have to clean the window and wash the seat cover.
Great. Her mother couldn’t even make French toast without flipping a circuit breaker.
She looked over and the iPad screen was dark, which was weird, because even if the power went out, its battery should keep it on. And then she realized the battery-powered toothbrush wasn’t wired in to a circuit breaker either.
Scout tossed the toothbrush in the sink and went downstairs. Her mother was standing in front of the stove, the French toast sizzling, the lights on.
“What’s up with my room?” Scout asked.
“What do you mean, honey?” Then the range exhaust fan stopped, as did her mother. “Well, that’s weird.”
“Must be the breaker box,” Scout said, even though she doubted her mother knew what one was, never mind where it was.
And she knew it wasn’t the breaker box. One could hope.
Sometimes hope isn’t a good thing.
Then all the lights went off and the two just stood there for a moment staring at each other.
Scout was about to tell her mom she’d check the box in the garage when the fan started with a low whir and the lights flickered, coming back on. Scout realized she still had a dull pain in her molar and went into the downstairs half-bath and turned the light on. She looked in the mirror, opening her mouth wide. There was the faintest golden glow in the tooth, which slowly faded out.
The skin on the back of her neck tingled. Scout ran back upstairs, ignoring her mother. The iPad was on, music was coming out of the speakers, and the lights were bright.
The toothbrush was rattling in the sink, vibrating the water, which was also glowing golden. Scout hit the sink stopper and the water drained out, taking the golden glow with it.
With a trembling hand, Scout picked the brush up and hit the off button.
It shut down.
Scout waited, not sure what to expect but having a feeling it wasn’t going to be good.
Tentatively, she tried the
She’d seen a house do that back in North Carolina.
The Nightstalkers had blown it up and then burned it down to ashes.
She didn’t think her mother would be happy if that happened.
Sometimes, though, when she saw her dad at his computer and the Quicken program was open, she had a feeling he wouldn’t be too upset to collect on the insurance.
Scout turned on her toothbrush and stuck it in her mouth, keeping her lips shut so the drool didn’t run down her face. She wanted to be out of here as soon as she wolfed down the skimpy breakfast her mother was preparing. She wandered back to the big window and watched the barge across the river. The crew had just arrived and tied off their skiff and were getting ready for a day’s work. A speedboat roared by, some guy water-skiing behind it in a wet suit, because May was too early, even in Tennessee, plus it was slightly chilly at 7:15 in the a.m. There was a cluster of ducks near their dock and Scout tried to remember what that was called—a gaggle? Or was that geese?—which got her trying to remember the difference between ducks and geese.
Her family had two Sea-Doos on lifts on one side of their dock, but the boatlift was empty. Her dad sat every evening after work with his catalogues and laptop and looked at boats the way her mother went through her yoga attire catalogues and Southern Living magazines. Weird the way everyone wanted different stuff and spent so much time looking—
Scout yelped because her mouth suddenly got hot and her back molar was tingling like she’d lost the filling and hit a nerve. She jerked the toothbrush out of her mouth so quick, she forgot to shut it off, spraying herself and the blue window seat and the window with spittle and toothpaste. Before she hit the off button, it stopped. As did the music and the lights overhead.
Her first thought was she’d have to clean the window and wash the seat cover.
Great. Her mother couldn’t even make French toast without flipping a circuit breaker.
She looked over and the iPad screen was dark, which was weird, because even if the power went out, its battery should keep it on. And then she realized the battery-powered toothbrush wasn’t wired in to a circuit breaker either.
Scout tossed the toothbrush in the sink and went downstairs. Her mother was standing in front of the stove, the French toast sizzling, the lights on.
“What’s up with my room?” Scout asked.
“What do you mean, honey?” Then the range exhaust fan stopped, as did her mother. “Well, that’s weird.”
“Must be the breaker box,” Scout said, even though she doubted her mother knew what one was, never mind where it was.
And she knew it wasn’t the breaker box. One could hope.
Sometimes hope isn’t a good thing.
Then all the lights went off and the two just stood there for a moment staring at each other.
Scout was about to tell her mom she’d check the box in the garage when the fan started with a low whir and the lights flickered, coming back on. Scout realized she still had a dull pain in her molar and went into the downstairs half-bath and turned the light on. She looked in the mirror, opening her mouth wide. There was the faintest golden glow in the tooth, which slowly faded out.
The skin on the back of her neck tingled. Scout ran back upstairs, ignoring her mother. The iPad was on, music was coming out of the speakers, and the lights were bright.
The toothbrush was rattling in the sink, vibrating the water, which was also glowing golden. Scout hit the sink stopper and the water drained out, taking the golden glow with it.
With a trembling hand, Scout picked the brush up and hit the off button.
It shut down.
Scout waited, not sure what to expect but having a feeling it wasn’t going to be good.
Tentatively, she tried the
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