The Wicked Days

00

PART ONE
(t.m.r.)

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before

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"Mommy, Toby took my dinosaur toy, he won't give it back." Margaux sighed as her mother ignored her, speaking to the man sat in their dining room across from the woman. She shuffled back to her brother, plopping back on the floor. "She's still talking. What are they even talking about?"

"Probably grown up stuff." Toby handed Margaux her dinosaur toy back, rolling on the cold, hardwood floor—even though his mother had scolded him not to. "Think that they're getting married?"

She gagged in disgust. "Ew, no! He's a boy, and boys are gross. Mommy knows that, she's smart," Margaux said, very matter-of-fact.

"I'm a boy!"

"Well, no one's marrying you, are they?" she shrugged, making her little dinosaur toys dance.

"Alright guys, I'm back... with cookies." The children smiled as they walked over to the coffee table, sitting on the couch with a Dr. Crest, though they had just been calling her Belle. Her name was nothing close to Belle. "Chocolate chip cookies to be exact. Those are my favourite. Why don't we let Margaux go first, she's the lady."

Margaux proudly took the first cookie, taking an impossibly large bite for her tiny mouth. She loved a good cookie. "Ms. Belle?" She was nice enough to refer to her formally, but not enough remember her name.

"My name isn't Belle, dear, it's Bo. Bo Crest." There was a long pause as she watched Toby take a chocolate chip cookie. She watched Margaux break the cookie into even slices. "Well, Doctor. Doctor Bo Crest. Don't usually start with the doctor around ki—hey, what are you... doing?"

"Splitting the cookie. It's fun. They make funny shapes. Are you married?" Dr. Crest choked on her own cookie a bit, surprised by the question. Kids asked the oddest things. "My mommy's married. To my daddy. He's a scientist."

"Uh, no, I'm not married."

"Me neither. Boys are gross. Except for my daddy. My mommy says he's in the clouds."

"Well, you don't have to marry a... man. You know. I-I know lots of people who... uh, don't—now that I think about it, I mean I've already started talking but, how old are you both—"

"Let's get a move on, Dr. Crest, we've got more kids to see." The man and the children's mother had come in to the living room now. He held a fancy business suitcase and many papers tucked carefully in a file under his arm. "I promise, Mrs. Dubois, this is the best possible option. You're saving many people with this decision."

"And I'll be able to be with them, yes? The whole step of the way? That's the only way I'm agreeing to this, I don't care what everyone else is doing, o-or agreeing to—"

"Yes ma'am, you'll be with them all through the process." He pulled out a piece of paper from the file looking over it, "Now, could you tell me both of their names again? Just in case we need to call you and verify anything before we escort you three to the facility?"

"Yes, so there's my boy, Toby— t, o, b, y. And m, a, r, g, a, u, x. Pronounced Mar-go."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Dubois. What's that, French?"