Kit Kat Paddywack

In Which I Eat Some Food and Meet a Brother

“What do you want?” Yulia asked me. “We have mac-e-cheese, pizzah, noodles, hamburgers, whatever. You name it, we prolly got it.”

    I felt extremely out of place in the huge kitchen. Everything was granite - the floors, some of the walls, the chairs... I didn’t know what I could or couldn’t touch. “... Pizza, please.”

    “Yes ma’am!” She chirped, grabbing a box of pizza from the fridge. Pulling out two slices, she popped them on a plate. Humming a senseless tune, she set the microwave for a minute and spun around to meet my eyes with her own piercing ones.

    “So...” She traced a design on the granite countertop. “What’s Caleeoforneeah like?”

    I stared at her. “Caleeforneeah?” She nodded. “Oh. You mean California?”

    She sighed. “Well, duh.”

    “California’s nice, I guess.” I shrugged. “Pretty crowded. Not all that exciting until you reach the southern coastline.”

    “Oh.” Yulia looked slightly disappointed. “You can sit down if you want.” She offered, gesturing at the row of bar stools sitting next to the counter. The microwave dinged, and she pulled out the slices of pizza. “One for you, and one for me!” She smiled at me.

    “Thanks.” I smiled back. “Oh, Yulia.”

    “Yeth?” She asked through a mouthful of pizza.

    “What’s a maneater?”

    Yulia choked, leaning over the counter. I didn’t know what to do, so I settled with lightly patting her back.

    “A-” -cough- “maneater is” -cough- “a female’ -cough- “version of a womanizer.” -cough-

    “Oh.” I mumbled, feeling nervous. “I get it now.”

    Wiping her eyes, Yulia snorted. “Good.”

    Before I could change the subject, Kirill swept in, followed by a handful of men wearing matching coats and hats. “Why, hello there, Charlie.” He smiled. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”

    I nodded mutely, taking a bite of pizza.

    “I will see you later, yes?” Kirill said, stalking to a door. “I am sorry for not being able to talk to you longer, but I have a meeting.”

    As fast as he had come, he disappeared again.

    After a few seconds of chewing, I turned to Yulia. “Is your father always like that?”

    Yulia giggled, rolling her eyes. “Of course. You should see him when something exciting happens. Like... tax season.”

    I quirked an eyebrow. “Tax season? That’s usually not all that exciting.”

    She smiled, a creepy glint in her eyes. “Trust me. Tax season is very exciting in this family.”

    Feeling creeped out, I searched for a new strain of conversation. “Is there anybody else you want me to meet?”

    “Ooooh, yes!” Yulia gasped. “Let’s go!” Grabbing my hand, she dragged me out of the kitchen, leaving the half-eaten pizza slices on the counter.

    “Where are we going?” I asked.

    “My brother Pierce’s room.” Yulia chirped. “Joe’s there too.”

    We stopped at a dark wooden door, with signs and posters pasted across it. Ignoring the “YOU SHALL NOT PASS” sign, Yulia pushed to door open. “Pierce, Joe~!” She sang, dancing into the messy room. “We have a guest~!”

    Two boys were crouched in the front of a television larger than my bed, shooting computerized zombies. “One mo’, sis.” The redhead replied. “We’re almost done with this part.”

    Yulia pouted for a moment before skipping over to a system, pulling out the power cord. The bloodthirsty zombies disappeared, leaving a blank blue screen.

    “Goddammit!” The red-head shouted. “What the hell, Yulia?”

    Unfazed by the angry boy, she smiled. “Say hello to our new jockey.”

    Pierce glanced at me. “Hi.” His voice was sulky.

    “Okay, that’s all.” Yulia chirped. “Carry on!” She pivoted on her heel and skipped out of the room.

    I followed Yulia out of the cluttered room. “Anybody else you want me to meet?”

    “Nope.” Yulia nearly sang, swinging her arms in wide arcs. “What’s your dog’s name?”

    I gaped at her. “When did I say that I had a dog?”

    Yulia giggled. “You didn’t. You’re covered in dog hair, silly.”

    I self-consciously rubbed my clothes. “His name is Tybalt.”

    “Cute name.” she said, leading the way back to the kitchen. “You should bring him next time.” The sentence felt like an order.

    “Sure,” I replied. I was about to ask Yulia if her family had any pets when I felt the temperature in the room drop. I stiffly turned around to see Kirill standing in the doorway leading to the office.

    “Charlie.” Kirill stated. “Would you mind following me to my office to sign some paperwork?” Once again, his question was less of a request and more of an order.

    I nodded, feeling the (what I feared would now become common) lump drop into my stomach. “Sure.”

    Kirill nodded, an icy smile on his face. “Well then, follow me.” He turned sharply and gracefully stalked out of the doorway. I swallowed nervoulsy and followed after him.