June 2085: adventures in babysitting, part 1

Charlie Roseland is 20, Gabby is 12.


Gabby put her overnight bag by the couch, stuffed full with two weeks of clothes, and she'd left her soccer ball by the door. She looked around her brother's apartment, which seemed oddly vacant somehow, though she couldn't place what was different. It smelled like burnt plastic and pizza. Their parents were going to China so their dad could research for his new book, and Gabby wasn't invited. Charlie wasn't invited either though, so she didn't feel too badly about that.

"You kids can use the house if you want," her mother said. "Are you sure you have enough space here?"

"It's fine, Mom," Charlie said.

"Well you both have keys. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call. Here’s some money, it should be plenty. Where’s Natty?"



Charlie stiffened and Gabby stared at his face, which went slack and constipated-looking.

"Um..." he stammered. He shrugged. "Not here."

"Oh, well give her our love then," their mom said. "I have to go, your father is double-parked. You kids be good. Here’s the number where we’re staying. Don’t stay up too late. Don’t eat too much junk food. Don’t—" She looked at Charlie’s hand, a large square of gauze taped over his palm, shaking her head. "...harm yourselves. Oh, we’re very late. Goodbye, my lovies. Goodbye."

She squished them both together into one massive hug and rushed out the door.


There was something odd on the table, and Gabby didn't know what it was. "What does it do?"

"It doesn’t do anything," Charlie said.

"Why? Cause it doesn't work, or is it supposed to not do anything? Why'd you make it?"

He shrugged.

"Are we gonna die of the fumes in here?"

"No," he said.


"Do you want me to ask my magic ball a question for you?"

"No thanks."

"Come on, how about: Will there be great fortune in our future?"

Gabby shook the ball. It said: I doubt it.


"Stupid answer," she said. "Who listens to these things anyway? What'd you do to your hand?"

"Burnt it."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really. Not anymore."

"Do you need to see a doctor?"

"No."

He didn't really move much, not even the tiny muscles of his face. She waved her hands around. He didn't turn his head. "Are you sick?"

"No," he said.


Gabby rummaged through the kitchen, making strange and suspecting faces at him. The state of his fridge was alarming. There was only wilted lettuce, ketchup and mustard, some sliced cheese wrapped in plastic, half a leftover frozen pizza, and not a fruit or vegetable in sight. Something was very wrong here.

Gabby sat carefully on the couch and looked at her brother.


"Charlie, where’s Natty?"

Gabby could have sang a whole song in the time it took him to answer, while he did this thing with his lip, biting it, looking annoyed or mad or some other emotion that she'd only seen on the face of grown-ups before and it startled her.

"Well, I guess you were gonna notice at some point..." he said. He took three more breaths before he said anything, and when he did, it came out so fast. "Natty's in Florida visiting her parents."

"Oh, don’t you guys usually go together?"

"Usually," he said. "But I’m babysitting you."

Gabby felt like they were both going to perish imminently and terribly. "Shit, why didn’t you tell Mom and Dad?"

"What, you don’t think I can take care of you by myself?"

Gabby didn’t answer this question. "You don’t even have any cereal here."

"We can get some."

"How long has she been gone?"

Charlie shrugged. "Two weeks."

"When's she coming back?"

"I don’t know."

"You don't know when she's coming back, or you don't know if she's coming back?"

"I just don't know. Why do you ask so many questions?"


Gabby gulped hard. "Did Natty dump you?"

"No, she didn't, you little shrimp."

"It sounds like you got dumped."

He made a face at her.

"What are you gonna do?"

"What do you mean?"

The thought occurred to Gabby that Charlie and Natty could actually break up. Which then she felt stupid for never considering that before. She felt like how some kids must feel when their parents get divorced. Gabby couldn't even remember a time when Natty wasn't around. What would their family look like without her? It would be like losing a sister. Would they ever see her again? Gabby felt like crying. She asked him, "Did you cry?"

He probably did cry. He looked like he might cry again now. "Stop it, Gabby. Just stop. I don't wanna talk about it. Can you stop?"


"Sorry," Gabby whispered.

"It's okay."

"Do you wanna play Donkey Kong or something?"

"Yeah."

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