Forlot: The Mom Who Lives Next Door - Book Twelve

Chapter Twenty-Three

"No, no, no..." I repeated the word as my best friend and I stepped out onto the porch.

I glanced at the left. Milo glanced at the right. I took a look up. Milo took a look down.

"I do not see them anywhere," Milo commented.

"Me neither," I said, fearing for the worst.

Just then, a black van pulled up in front of the house. The passenger window was rolled down, and I could see that a woman was in the driver's seat. Just barely.

I let out a small gasp and was going to say it, but Milo beat me to it.

"Is that not your mom, Jackson?"

"You mean in the van?"

"Yes. She looks so much like her."

The woman leaned to the side and turned her head towards us. "Boys?" she called. "May we have a talk?"

Yup. That was Mom. She has such a distinctive voice.

"Are we in trouble?" my best friend asked me. "Is that why she would like to have a serious talk with us?"

"There is only one way to find out," I said. I charged down to the van.

"Wait, Jackson!" He followed behind me. "What if she wants to give us that talk about where babies come from? 'Cause if that is it, I do not need to know!"

We reached the van, and my mother let out a giggle.

"No, Milo. It is okay," she reassured him. "I am not fond of that...certain talk."

"Phew!" Milo let out a whoosh of air. "That is the best news that I have heard. Especially when Jackson's sister was kidnapped."

I glared at him and slapped his arm. "Milo!"

Do not get me wrong. I knew how important it was to inform her about what happened. However, I wanted to work my way into it, not drop it on her!

Mom's loving smile faded. "Excuse me?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Mom, you are not going to like this," I warned her. "Heck, you might not even believe us."

"Why would I not believe you? Especially you, honey?"

"Well...um...it sounds crazy."

"Crazy is my middle name, sweetie."

Milo took a step back. "You are joking...right?"

"Of course. I am not really crazy. Not like...Kira."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Alright. Here it goes."

So I practically spilled the beans to her about everything. I did not miss out one single detail.

"The doll demanded to have Amy's voice box, and when I refused to help her get it, she and that dummy kidnapped her." I lifted up my hands and arms, motioning to the world around us. "Now...they could be anywhere." I lowered my arms back down. "I am sorry, Mom. I am supposed to be the big brother and protect my little sister from the dangers of life. I guess that I just never thought that a walking and talking doll and puppet would be one of them."

I was expecting my mom to be disappointed in me. Or to get angry at me. Or to understand me and embrace me in a hug. Or the three of us would go looking for Amy.

Instead...she just laughed.

Yeah. She laughed!

This was no time to be funny! My baby sister was in total danger!

"Mom!" I exclaimed with a hint of anger in my voice. "Why the crub are you laughing?"

Mom forced herself to stop and cleared her throat. "Jackson. Milo. Did you ever check in the back of my car?"

"Huh?" Milo and I took a glance at the backseats, and you will never guess who was back there.

What is that? You already did? Dang it!

It was Amy!

Little Amy was sitting in a car seat and and staring at those tiny feet of hers.

"Amy!" I proclaimed with happiness.

Amy must have heard me because she looked up, and when she spotted me and Milo, well, mostly me, she cooed excitedly.

"Brother!" She hopped up and down in the car seat. "Brother, brother, brother!"

"Someone is excited to see to you, Jackson," Mom commented.

The baby held out her hands and arms, reaching for me. "Play!"

I could not help but chuckle. "Yes, Amy. We will play very soon."

"Yay!"

You could not imagine how relieved I was to find my precious sister safe and sound. I just wanted to jump into the car and hug her and squeeze her - not hard though - and play with her for the rest of the day.

But I could not. I could not do anything of those things. At least, not right now.

And my relief did not last long.

Sitting next to my baby sister were two people. Or should I say, two toys.

"Gabi! Vincent!" I cried.

Gabi Dollson and Vincent had their wooden arms crossed and seemed to be ticked.

"Relax, honey," Mom told me. "They will not hurt you. At least, they had better not."

"But Mom—" I started.

She quickly cut me off. "I know that they are alive. I also know that Gabi has been searching for a new record and a new voice box."

"Then why did you not fix me?!" Gabi shouted.

"I told you plenty times before, young lady. You are perfect the way that you are. You do not need a record and a voice box to define you. Besides, my daughter loves you. Broken and all."

"Well, I love your daughter too. Love her enough to rip her voice box out and allow her to bleed!"

The baby burst out crying. Mom faced the back.

"Gabi, that was not nice. You scared her!"

"I did not scare her! I just voiced my opinion!"

"But it was uncalled for!"

"You want to see scary? I will show you scary!"

Mom, Milo, and I watched in horror as Gabi Dollson leaped to her wooden feet and wrapped her wooden fingers around Amy's neck.