Skurdulka's House (a LGBTQ chosen-family thriller)

Part 14: A Trick

Storm stared at his mother. Or, this perfect imitation of his mother. Caught between the pain of seeing her again—her kind eyes, her gentle smile, exactly as he remembered—and the shock of seeing her here, thoughts refused to form.

"Storm." It was Ari's voice again. Coming out of his mother's mouth. "Try to stay calm."

That incongruity, that impossibility, hit Storm in the chest. He took a breath, but couldn't get air. The breaths came faster. Staring at his mother—this monster wearing his mother's face—only one thought broke through his panic; Impossible. This is impossible. This is impossible!

"I know this is a lot to take in." His mother's head tilted a bit, her eyebrows rising—a worried gesture Storm had seen from Ari a dozen times. "Everything's going to be okay. I promise."

"You... Y-you can't... What the fuck?" His voice broke. Tears threatened behind his eyes. Confusion battled frustration and dread, making him feel like a child again.

"I'm a shapeshifter," Ari's voice said again, slowly.

"That's impossible. Th-that's impossible." He shook his head just a bit, unable to take his eyes off his mother.

"Maybe think of it like a magic trick. Like, I'm just very good at makeup."

It has to be a trick. It has to be. Storm swallowed what felt like a pile of sand. "How did you do that?"

"Um." His mother glanced away, and her gentle smile turned wry and a bit uncertain—another expression Ari often wore. "A magician never reveals their secrets." Looking back, her light, reddish-blonde eyebrows arched in pity. "I'm so sorry. This was an awful idea, I should've showed you at home. I thought someone you knew would be easier..."

Storm tried to control his breathing. It's just a trick. They're not my mother. I don't know how... He shook his head quickly, unable to pursue the thought. It's a trick. It's like one of Heather's makeup videos. You can be anybody if you're good at it. "S-so that's how we-we're getting into school?"

"That was my plan, yes." Ari's voice was slow, cautious. "That way, if anyone thinks something's odd, there will be pictures of us together. Well, you and your mother."

"S-s-so that's what you did for everybody? You p-pretended to be... somebody? Somebody they knew? With this m-make-up trick-thing?"

A small smile returned to his mother's lips, this one knowing and sly. "Exactly. Except for Chris. Their parents agreed to let them stay with me."

His heart still pounded, but his breathing evened. He dared to look closer at what he was now certain—almost—was Ari's disguise. He scanned Ari's face—their make-up was just like his mother's used to be, down to her shade of lipstick. There were tiny wrinkles in the corner of their eyes—asymmetrical, like his mother's were. Even the shape of their nose and cheeks—their entire face, really—was different. Like their bones had changed.

Storm decided not to look so closely again.

"It's good." He swallowed. "It's a really good trick. Y-you totally got me."

"Storm, I wasn't try to..." Ari sighed. "I didn't mean this as some kind of mean prank. I'm so sorry that it turned out like this. This was a terrible idea."

"No, no, it's okay. I get it. This way they won't look." Storm nodded slowly. Then, he gave a sour smile. "Not that my dad even cares that I'm gone."

Their head tilted again with that sympathetic look. "Storm, your dad didn't make a police report because then he'd have to admit he punched you in the face. He probably doesn't know what to do right now."

Storm looked down at his hands and scoffed. "Am I supposed to feel bad?"

"No. Not at all. I just thought you should know." They waited a moment. Storm didn't look up. "If you need a moment to process all this, I can wait." Storm still didn't answer. Ari turned around to face forward. Behind the seat again, Storm couldn't see them.

I can't go back there. Maybe I won't have to. He wasn't sure what was more dangerous—actually believing that he wouldn't have to go back to his dad, or believing that Ari really was some kind of cryptid.

"Okay," he said at last. "I-I'm ready."

Ari twisted around again to face him. They still looked identical to Storm's mother. Storm wasn't sure why he thought that would suddenly change, how he would suddenly realize it was just a very clever trick. It was uncanny. Even a Hollywood special effects artist couldn't get the resemblance that close. It was like Ari became her.

Maybe they had.

"Are you sure you can do this?" they asked.

Storm took a breath. "Yup. You're—" the next words caught in his throat "—you're my mom. We just moved here. You're enrolling me in school. Let's do this." He stepped out of the car. Ari did the same.

Stepping onto the asphalt, Storm saw small feet, clad in red flats, step out next to his. Taking a deep breath, he stood up, closed the car door, and started to look up at Ari.

Then he stopped.

Storm was tall, but, standing at about six feet, Ari was taller. The red-haired woman in the yellow sundress and red flats standing in front of him was maybe five foot six.

Ari turned into her. The thought seemed somehow close and real at the same time it was cosmically, impossibly far away. They really are a cryptid.

"Don't worry," smiling brightly, Ari held up a sheaf of papers, "I have all the paperwork done already. We'll be in and out." Then, their smile faded. Eyebrows rising, they studied Storm. "Are you okay?"

It had been years since he stood next to her. As if pulled, he almost threw his arms around her. But he stayed. It's not her. It's Ari. Swallowing hard, he blinked back tears. "Yup." He started walking.

"Don't worry, kiddo. I've turned into people probably eight hundred times, it always turns out fine," Ari assured him. "And, if you're worried about the school, you'll already have friends here. Chris, Lee and Heather all go here too."

Storm looked down at the diminutive red shoes tapping along next to his. It wasn't his mother walking next to him into a new school. But it was nice to have someone who cared.

...

Author's Note: 

Thanks for bearing with me! 

At the next chapter (hopefully next Monday, the 11th!) we're going to move forward a bit in time, into school. I'm looking forward to some more sort of nice, cute, just enjoyable chosen-family moments, as well as some more tense, conflict-related type things. This story is shaping up to be longer than the previous, so thanks for sticking with me! :D (Also, reading--what a good use of quarantine time. Proud of you :) 

This weird AF cover image, if you haven't guessed it already, is good ol' Salvador Dali, famous for wacky surrealism, melting clocks, and the OG hipster 'stache. (This is Apparition of Face and Fruit Dish on a Beach... which, personally I feel like that name does not do the painting justice, but I'm just an un-arted philistine lol)