Chapter 16: Pop Goes, You Weasel

"There's something you should know about our Chucky." Mrs. Flabbing made a sharp (illegal) left turn, bringing about a chorus of honks around them.

"Our Chucky is a dreamer." The wind bit at Mr. Flabbing's head, but his hair was like a brick wall, what with all the spray or gel or combination of the two. "He has a difficult time discerning fantasy from reality."

"It hasn't been so bad lately," Mrs. Flabbing said, working on her makeup as she drove. "He's been interested in aliens and bigfoot and things like that, but that's not so strange for a boy to have as a hobby." When she applied her lipstick--

Mr. Flabbing took over the wheel and continued, "Back when Chucky was a child, he had an imaginary friend named Pop. Pop was always with him, day and night. Even when he started elementary school, his teachers said he would sit alone and talk to Pop. He had a difficult time making any real friends. Though it seemed as if he didn't want to make any real friends."

Mrs. Flabbing took the wheel back, and gave Mr. Flabbing a chance to hiss at his hair with a giant paint-can-sized spray bottle. "Pop went away eventually," Mrs. Flabbing said. "He wanted a more real friend, so he built Samantha. Even this, we weren't so worried about. But we believe he's gone back to an imaginary friend again."

"This time it isn't Pop." Mr. Flabbing smiled in the rear-view mirror and picked at his teeth. "Now it's someone named Dante."

"He's been talking in different voices," she said. "With his old imaginary friend, at least Pop existed outside of himself. But this time Dante is a part of him. He switches from his real self to his imaginary self. It's not right."

Mr. Flabbing nodded in agreement. "We think that if he spends time with a real person more often, Dante will go away. That's where you come in, Ein. Do you think you could stop by the house more often? Hang out, as the young people call it?"

"Uh…" Ein looked down at the whiteness of his hands, from how hard he was gripping his seat. The ride had been a bit…chaotic. "Don't you think you should talk to a doctor or a psychologist about this?"

Mr. and Mrs. Flabbing laughed. Mrs. Flabbing said, "We don't use doctors or psychologists. We only confide in Belelander, our Healer. He hears the answers to all life's problems in the Spirit of the Wind."

Talk about having an imaginary friend.

"Will you do it?" Mr. Flabbing said.

Ein just stared.

"Please," Mrs. Flabbing urged. "Chucky needs you. He always acts so normal when you're around. We only want him to be normal."

Now that was something Ein could understand.

***

Princess tapped Fridgy on his side, signaling him to close his mouth. She had to stop herself from this rampage. A few more minutes of this madness and she would devour everything inside Fridgy, and then what hope would they have?

She turned around and noticed Old Hobo Joe sitting alone on Vincent's hammock. "Where's Vincent?"

Old Hobo Joe pointed to the dining area.

"I see." She sat down beside him. "He hasn't been ordering you around much lately, huh? Now that him and Ein have been hanging around together so much."

Old Hobo Joe nodded.

"Yeah, I know what it's like. Me and Ein haven't talked very much lately either, and whenever we do, it seems like we're fighting. I wish it was like how it used to be."

The old man nodded.

"But things'll get better. I know they will. Ein is still my best friend."

Old Hobo Joe smiled, saying that Vincent was his best friend too. Then the caped man pointed to Fridgy and arched an eyebrow.

"I don't know what we're going to do about the no-chef thing, but it's just one more thingamajig that we have to get past, to get to our dreams. Even if I have to start up a hundred Haunted House Dressings, I'll never give up. I'm going to become the greatest eater in all the world."

Old Hobo Joe gave her a thumbs up.

At that moment, a person entered who Princess thought would never enter that kitchen in a million years.

"Mom, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was simply going to wish you good luck on your endeavors. I would have done so earlier, but I had no idea where you were. Not until I saw your restaurant in the newspaper."

"The newspaper?"

"It tells about the soap stars, and the skeletons, and Ninja." Princess's mother pulled an article clipping from her pocket. "Haven't you seen it?"

Princess shook her head and took the article. "I guess none of us here gets the newspaper."

"Well then, I must congratulate you on causing such a buzz in town. It seems this place has potential to become a great success."

Princess couldn't believe it. Was her mother actually happy for her? Did her mother want to…support her dream? Princess pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. "Thanks, mom. Hey, let me go get my friends. You can meet them. Oh, and this is Old Hobo Joe. He brings people to their tables and stuff like that."

Princess ran off to get Sunflower and Vincent, and when she came back to them, her mother was laughing along with Old Hobo Joe.

"Your friend here has quite the sense of humor," her mother said.

Princess smiled. "Mom, this is Vincent, and this is Sunflower."

"A pleasure," Vincent said.

"Nice you meet you," said Sunflower.

"Nice to meet you all as well," her mother said. Then she faced her daughter. "Now I have a small confession to make. When I was in the dining area, I overheard you talking to Joe about your problem."

Oh no. Princess cringed. Her mother wasn't here to congratulate her on her accomplishments, but point out her failures, and try to get her to go back to her old life. But Princess would never go back. Never.

"I'm not the best cook in the world," her mother said, "but I would be happy to fill in as your chef. At least until you find a replacement. I could run straight here right after my class, and then you could open up about the same time that you are right now. How does that sound?"

Princess was so stunned by her mothers words, that she literally fell backwards. Luckily, Fridgy was there to grab her with his handle, then he opened up his door to straighten her up again.

"Well?" her mom said.

Princess looked at all her friends. They were smiling. This was the miracle they were all hoping for. So Princess said, "Alright, mom. Thanks."

Her mother smiled and pulled up her sleeves. "Then let's get this place cooking."

***

All of the paranormal had been removed from Chucky's room. No, that was an understatement. His room now looked like a castle bedchamber. Candles on the stone walls (though Ein wasn't sure if it was actually stone) flickered. Red cloth draped the bed and windows. The only element of the old room that still remained was the computer--but Samantha was now dressed in some sort of Victorian dress.

"Is this better?" Samantha turned around and gave Chucky a glimpse of her wardrobe on all sides.

"Indeed it is." Chucky now sat on a throne, in the center of the room. He dressed like the worst of Renaissance Fair geek. "I have to hand it to the lad, he did create one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen."

Samantha blushed. "Pante, you're embarrassing me."

"Good, a lovely lady such as yourself should be embarrassed from time to time. It's quite a shame you're imprisoned there in that box."

"I'm not imprisoned, Lante. Like I told you before, I'm a program."

"Your words are baffling but beautiful, love."

Ein couldn't take much more of this, so he cleared his throat.

Chucky stood from throne and turned around. "Ah, it's you. I believe Chucky said your name was Ein, yes? It's a pleasure." He held out his hand.

Ein just stared. "So you're…you're some sort of king now, is that it?"

Chucky chuckled. "I would never trouble myself with such boring matters as leadership. I'm merely a man born lucky, with money enough to pursue my interests."

"And that is?"

"Love, of course. What else is there worth fighting for?"

The truth of all this was beginning to become clear in Ein's mind. "So love is a battle for you, is that it, Chucky?"

"Yes, it is a battle, but I'm not Chucky. My name is Dante."

"I understand. You've made up this…this imaginary friend to hide your guilt for going after Daisy, when you know I really like her."

Chucky sighed, then placed his hands on Ein's shoulders. "Dear sir, I didn't know there was another after Daisy's heart. I apologize for the pain I've caused you, but I will not cease from causing more. So goes the trials and tribulations of love."

Ein pushed Chucky's hands away. "Stop this! You need to take responsibility for your actions! I thought you were my friend."

"I've just met you, sir."

"Are you just trying to trick me, or are you tricking yourself too?"

"The only one here who is confused is you."

"I'm not the one with an imaginary friend!"

"Real enough to win Daisy's heart, good sir."

Ein took a step forward. "You're Chucky, not Dante! Dante's fake!"

"I am not."

"You're a stupid creation, just like Samantha! Can't you understand that!?!" Ein pressed his hands over his mouth to keep any more words from coming out. He'd realized what he said. He looked up at the monitor. Samantha was staring down at her feet, tears forming. "Hey, Samantha, I didn't mean--"

"Haven't you said enough already?" Chucky pointed to the door. "Now leave my chamber, and I expect a handwritten letter of apology for this girl to be delivered to this house by the morrow."

Ein wanted to stay and apologize, but he feared that he'd only make things worse, like he tended to do. He needed to calm himself down first, and gather his thoughts. Then he'd apologize.

So, without another word, he left.

***

Princess was just glad there was a giant serving plate between her hands and the food, because she'd really missed her mother's cooking. Given the chance, her hands would peck the meal to death.

She served the food, and walked to another table that was already busy eating. "Is everything alright here? Do you like the food?"

"It's great!" The man smiled, with BBQ sauce all over his face. "I'm gonna have to tell the fellas at work about this place."

"I'm glad you like it." She headed back to the kitchen, and intersected with Sunflower on the way. "How are we doing?"

Sunflower scribbled furiously at her tiny notebook, by the register. "With your mother's addition to my calculations, we should survive--at least until the next problem."

Princess smiled and headed into the kitchen.

She knew her mom's food was good to eat, but she couldn't believe how skilled her mother was in the kitchen. For all of Princess's life, she'd only ever been on the other side of dinner, at the table, devouring. But now she was in the kitchen with her mother, watching her work.

Her mother sliced up a carrot so fast, Princess couldn't even see the blade.

"How'd you learn to do that, mom?"

"From my mother, who was taught by her mother, who was taught by hers, and on and on. It's the wife's job and privilege to make good food for her husband and children." She flung bombs of spice into her soup. "I was hoping to teach you the ways as well, but you eat everything you get your hands on."

Princess looked down. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's just the way you are, and I accept that. But there are so many other things I wanted to teach you before you're old enough to start a family. It's a shame you're not living at home anymore, then we'd have the time. But I suppose the traditions will have to die with me."

Princess had never felt so sorry for her mother in her life. Was this really her mom? She sure looked like her. Maybe, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she moved back in with her mother. She would still be following her dreams. It wouldn't mean she was giving up. It would simply be giving her mom a chance to teach her some things. Right?

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Umm…maybe I could move back home for a while. So…so I could learn those things you were talking about it."

Her mother turned away from her cooking and smiled. "I'd like that, Princess. I'd like that very much."