Spirit Falls ~~TEMPORARILY DISCONTINUED~~

4 - Name

Wendy POV

   I go back downstairs and rummage through the cupboards for something to feed those two with. I hum the tune to a song I love as I repeatedly open and close drawers. Finally, in the back of the cupboard under the sink, I find an old baby bottle that I bottle-fed Gus with after my mom died. It brings tears to my eyes, but I think about how she would be proud of me for rescuing the two instead. I wash it out, and take out the milk and honey from the fridge. I pour a bottleful, then heat it up in the microwave, and ladle a tablespoonful of honey into it. If there's one thing that's practical about having grown up near the wild, it's that you know how to take care of, say, a baby rabbit that found its way into your basement. I make sure that it's not too hot by dipping my little finger in before bringing it upstairs.

   The little guy is still zonked out on my bed, so I gently wake him up. He blinks at me sleepily, and I sit cross-legged and bring him onto my lap to feed him. I guide the teat into his mouth, and he closes his eyes and starts noisily suckling. I look out of the window as he drinks. The sun is out, and it looks beautiful outside. A few dust motes float lazily around, trapped in the shafts of sunlight. I look back in to the little guy on my lap. He looks at me innocently, then butts me hard in the chest. I notice that he's completely finished off the bottle. I bet he's still hungry. I go back down to fill another bottle. He finishes that one off just as fast as the first, and nearly falls asleep with the teat in his mouth. As he starts to nod off, I brush his long chestnut bangs out of his eyes, and I see a birthmark on his forehead that resembles the Big Dipper. I smile, and decide to name him Mason, and his sister Mabel, but I'll call him Dipper.

   I refill the bottle for his sister, but she spits the teat out right away. She stares at me in what I imagine is reproach. I can't think of what a mermaid would eat. I think a bit, staring at the ceiling. She might eat bread, but veggies would be more likely. I look inside her mouth, prising her jaws open with two fingers. She has two sharp-looking canines, and her premolars seem sharp as well. I let myself daydream, mentally going over the contents of our fridge. She might eat meat... fish... That's it! I bet she'll eat fish, since mermaids live in the water. I run down the stairs again, and take out a piece of salmon in cling-wrap. I carry it back upstairs (I'm getting sick and tired of those stupid stairs) and offer it to Mabel. She takes it, turning it over in her tiny hands. I have to stop her from eating it with the plastic still on, and I show her how to take it off. She then crams it into her mouth, ripping pieces off with little grunts and squeaks of pleasure. I watch her eat without making a sound, and when she's done, she wipes her mouth with her forearm and clambers into my lap, on top of Dipper. She curls up and promptly falls asleep, just like her brother. They look so cute together when they're sleeping.