Narrator/Detective

I got enough problems of my own. Why should I risk my hide to help some dame I barely even know?

Chapter 5. I shuffled down the hall trying to figure out why I'd gotten mixed up in this crazy case. Was it just for the Batmans? Or was it something else? There was something about that screwy kid. The world had done her dirty, but somehow it hadn't made her cynical. She still believed in justice. She still believed in hope.

She still believed that objects disappeared when you put a surface in front of them. And then reappeared by magic when you took away that surface. She even believed in me. No one ever had before. I decided to swing by the TV Room, classic grown-up hangout. The kind of after-hours joint that doesn't get hoppin' till after bedtime.

I slipped inside and got to work, opening drawers, taking things out, and then dropping them hard on the ground. It's an old detective tactic, a way to make sure that you touched everything and that everything got everywhere. I'd gone through most of the cabinets when the door burst open. It was Nana. I spotted a closet and sprinted inside, but it turned out to be a dead end. How about a nap?

I shook my head defiantly. If she thought I was going down that easy, she had another thing coming. How about some yummy medicine? I ate the medicine. I like to eat things that were yummy, and Nana had used that word when describing the medicine. I smiled as the sweet cherry capsule hit my tongue, but it was quickly followed by a different flavor. The bitter taste of betrayal. Chapter six.

It wasn't the first time I'd been drugged. Still, you couldn't help but marvel at the grown-up's depravity. They never did you dirty to your face. Ha ha, no. They preferred to stab you in the back. They said you could skip your vegetables and snuck them in your mashed potatoes. They said you could sleep in their bed. Then they put you in your crib the second you fall asleep.

They said you could have a present and then brought you a potty with a bow on it and told you to poop in it in front of them. like that's some kind of a gift. I stared out the bars of my crib. The grownups had taken my power and my freedom, but that just meant I had nothing left to lose. Chapter seven.

I can't fit in any of those places.

Because I'm too big.

Objects look big when they're close to you and small when they're far from you.

Nana tried to kill me. She drugged me and left me to die inside my crib.

I said, Nana, up, and then Nana came and picked me up.

Why do you think? She's insane.

We run. What? Let's run away together. Somewhere far, far away where we can make a brand new start. Maybe the dead.

Look!

She pointed across the room. Nana was headed for the stairs, carrying a clear plastic bag.

The garage.

It's the car's bedroom, where it sleeps. Also, there's a big door that goes up and down and is a monster.

I won't disappear. Objects are permanent. Even when you can't see them, they are still there.

You won't. I promise. Chapter 8. I climb down the stairs as silently as possible while also still counting out loud to myself because that's the game I do when I climb stairs. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized Nana was not alone. Mama and Dada had returned.

I was starting to lose the thread, but then I saw something that made my blood run cold. It was Mumu, just where Zoe had said she'd be in the plastic bag. There was only one problem. She'd been murdered. Her horn had been severed and her hooves ripped clean off her body. Nana had taken a life and now Mama was back to run the cover up.

I watched with disgust as Dada obediently tossed Mumu's corpse into the trash.

I followed the grown-ups up the stairs. I was almost at the top when I heard a disconcerting sound. Laughter.

I broke out in a cold sweat as I watched Mama take a new unicorn out of a plastic case. Zoe, Zoe, listen to me. That's not the real Moo Moo. The real Moo Moo is dead.

No, I know I can't explain it, but you gotta believe me. I saw them bury her body. I saw it with my own damn eyes.

I grabbed her by the shoulders. You can't trust Mama. You can't trust any of them. They're all in on this together. Don't buy into their lies! Easy, sweetie. Remember, we play gentle. The grown-ups were closing in on me. I didn't have much time. Zoe, baby, they're going to nab me any second. But before they do, please, I need to hear you say something. I need to hear you say that you believe me.

I need to hear you say that this isn't Moo Moo.

I thought we had something. Something real. I suppose I've been a fool. I'll just take my Batmans and go. Uh-oh, looks like someone got into the Hanukkah drawer.

The grown-ups laughed in my face, and as this sick coffee breath hit my nose, something snapped inside my brain. Before I could stop myself, I was lunging at them, arms flailing and legs kicking.

I punched and spat as the grown-ups tried to restrain me. But I was determined not to break this time, no. This time, I wasn't going down without a fight.

I woke hours later. My mind was so foggy, it took me a second to realize I wasn't there alone. Staring up at me from the rug was baby Zoe. What the hell are you doing here?

She slid something to me through the bars of my crib. I couldn't make it out in the darkness, but I could feel. Soft cape, groovy hooves, fun horn. Oh, don't be crazy, kid. This moo moo's all you have.

What are you saying?

She started to crawl away. She was halfway across the very small rug she was on when I said, wait, hey, hold on now. This case isn't closed. A lot remains unsolved.

We still don't know why Mama and Dada went away this weekend or where they went or what they did there. We don't know why they go to work or what work is or why they both have glasses. We don't know their penis and vagina situation, or why they take showers and not baths. We don't even know if Mama and Dada are their real names.

Sure, but I was thinking maybe it'd be easier if we cut a deal.

I'm saying partners. You and me.

Won't take long. We can start right now. I handed her a crayon to take notes.

Sort of.

Don't worry, kiddo. We'll figure it all out. Together.

Chapter one. I woke up just after dawn. It was a typical morning. My knees were scraped and bruised. My clothes were damp and soiled. And my teeth felt like someone had socked me in the jaw. I reached for the bottle I kept under my pillow and took a sloppy swig. The taste was foul, but it did the trick. Now I could sit up and think.

Now I could start to figure out how to somehow face another goddamn day. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I wasn't getting any younger. I was two years old. Soon I would be three. Unless I stayed too. I wasn't sure if you stayed the age you were or if that changed. I wasn't sure about a lot of things. All I knew was I was tired. Tired of this down and dirty life.

Tired of trying to make some sense out of a world gone mad. The client was waiting for me in my nursery. I'd seen her around before. She'd come on the scene about a year ago, moving into the white bassinet down the hall. Some people called her sweetheart. Others called her pumpkin. But most people knew her by her full name, Baby Zoe.

Sure, she looked innocent enough with her big wide eyes and her Princess Elsa onesie, but her past was murky. Some said she came from the hospital, but there was also a rumor she'd once lived inside Mummy's tummy. It didn't add up. Still a job's a job. So what brings you here to see me?

I rolled my eyes. Moo Moo went missing all the time. It was just the kind of unicorn she was. Maybe she's under your bassinet.

Her eyes filled with tears. I handed her a tissue, but she didn't know what a tissue was. So she put it in her mouth and tried to eat it.

Lost toys? A small time. Why should I bust my ass trying to find some unicorn, probably just turn up under the radiator?

I cocked my head doubtfully. What kind of scratch could a baby like Zoe come up with? She didn't have a piggy bank. She wasn't old enough to have pockets. What do you got that's worth me getting up for?

I swallowed. Are they the, uh, the fun kind?

They were fun, all right. I'd never seen so many Batmans in all my life. How do I know these aren't hot? Where'd you even get them?

We're talking about how I'm gonna find your Moo Moo.

That's right, doll. I'm on the case. Chapter two. So this is the rug where you last saw your Mumu?

Have you seen any suspicious characters around lately?

Think hard.

Interesting. Describe her.

Large wooden jewelry?

Sounds like Nana.

I've had run-ins with her before. She's from Florida.

It's in the sky.

Yeah.

You get in an airplane and you watch cartoons. And when you wake up, you're in her house and there's a turkey.

That's what I'm gonna find out. Chapter three. Nana was elusive. Sometimes she was lying in a recliner. Sometimes she was small inside a phone. If I was gonna track her down, I needed good old-fashioned shoe leather. First, I tried the playroom. Then I tried the room that has the chairs. I'd been at it for over ten seconds when I finally caught a break in the case.

Nana picked me up and started carrying me. Before long, she was making a phone call.

It was impossible to follow. Like all grown-ups, Nana spoke in a secret code designed to keep her operations hidden. What does smart cycle mean?

And that's when a familiar voice rumbled out of Nana's phone. We're driving to the beach. Just Google it, okay? There was no mistake in it. The voice belonged to Mama. And that could only mean one thing. This one went all the way to the top. Chapter four. I'm off the case.

That was before I knew the score. If Mama's mixed up in this, I don't want anything to do with it.

We all like Mama. She smells nice and is warm. But that doesn't change the fact that she runs this whole goddamn town.

Look, you're just a kid, so I'll spell it out for you. Mama's the big boss around here. The doctor, the dentist, the Gymboree instructor. They're all on the take.

Dada. Dada's just a bag man. He wears a shiny watch. It's Mama's the ones that's calling all the shots.

Oh, don't you get it? This is bigger than Moo Moo. Something's going down here, and I'm not hanging around long enough to find out what it is. I was halfway to my crib when the girl began to sob. It didn't take a detective to see she was frightened. Her eyes were bleary, her face pale and drawn, and at some point, she had pooped big in her pants.