DRAWING THE RIGHT CONCLUSION

"Want to color with me?"

"Color what?"

"I'm putting Daddy back in the picture," said Lina, "and taking Mark out."

***

She kept making copies of the same drawing — the house and yard and all of us standing in front, sketched in pencil.

"You can color in everything else, but leave Mom and Mark to me."

She started on another piece of paper.

***

"Why seven of them?"

"Seven's a magic number," said Lina. "One times seven is seven. The times table, just like they wanted."

She was a good artist.

"What are the woods for?" I asked. She'd made it look like we lived near a forest.

"Camouflage for Daddy while he travels," she said.

A dimly-penciled figure with gleaming yellow eyes stared out from between the trees.

"Why are his eyes like that?" They looked like headlights.

"So he can find us in the dark," said Lina.

"He looks like a bear," I said.

"Maybe Daddy is a bear," said Lina. "A were-bear. And he misses his lost were-children."

A shiver slid icily up my legs.

"What's Daddy's name?" I whispered.

"Bear Were-Daughtersfather," said Lina.

"Growl growl," I said.

"Snap!" said Lina.

***

"It's go-time," Lina said. "Hocus pocus presto change-o." She erased Mark's feet, rubbing slowly and carefully.

While I did my homework, Lina colored another drawing. Daddy was out of the woods now and at the edge of the yard, looking towards the house. His whole head was colored in, brown and shaggy.

"When will he get here?" I asked.

"In double-time," said Lina.

***

Mark was gone all the way up to his waist. Daddy was starting to cross the yard. His shoulders and arms were all colored in.

"He's waving to us now," said Lina.

***

The real Mark didn't look very well. Neither did Mom. She'd been throwing up.

Lina finished drawing number five. Daddy was halfway to the house. His mouth was open.

"He's roaring for us," said Lina, "to bake him a nice big cake."

She erased the top of Mark's head. His face was still there, and his neck and shoulders and arms. The rest of him was gone.

***

"I can't write with all that noise!" Mark shouted from the den. Lina and I started laughing and he slammed his door and Mom shouted at us to go to our room. She tried to say something to Mark and he yelled at her, and we couldn't stop ourselves from giggling as we went upstairs, thump thump thump.

"Double time divided by no time," said Lina.

Mom came into our room. She looked like everything was falling apart around her and she didn't know why.

"You rotten kids," she said, her voice low and shaking.

"Error in the calculation," said Lina. All the color went out of Mom's face and she ran to the bathroom, and we heard her throwing up again.

***

Lina had finished picture number six.

Mark's eyes were gone. His hands were scrabbling in his empty head. His mouth was a perfect circle.

"Zero times zero," I said, "will always be zero."

Our two little crayoned figures were jumping up and down. Daddy's hands were colored in. One more giant step and he'd reach us.

***

"Want to do this together?" asked Lina. She was working on picture number seven.

"Sure," I said.

Daddy's foot had touched the ground. It just needed to be colored in.

Mark was gone. Mom's outline was still just pencil.

Lina tapped it.

"Crayon or eraser?"

"Eraser, please," I said.

She handed it to me and took a crayon for herself.

"Show-time," she said.