Don't Rhine on My Parade

  Chapter Three

  I thought long and hard that next week. I thought about who I was, and what I could do, and what it meant if things like me were possible. Stuff I should have thought about long before, but had been too busy pretending to be normal. I had wanted to believe that fairy tales were stories you read to small children, that magic was a Disney invention, and that humans were it. Facing the Voice changed all that.

  I came back around to my original conclusion. I would never use the Voice again. And when, one day, as I crossed the campus between classes, I saw the young man from the alley scanning the faces of students as they passed, I transferred my credits to a college in another state and never looked back. I don’t know that he was looking for me, but I wasn’t going to hang around to find out.

  My parents were utterly perplexed. None of my made up reasons for transferring made sense to them. They were pretty sure I was having an emotional breakdown. I wasn’t sleeping too well at night. I kept dreaming of black eyes and my grades suffered. But that’s when I met Mark and the rest, as they say, is history.

  He was great. He was big and strong, tall and handsome. He made me feel safe and protected. He carried my book bag and opened doors. He walked me to my door at night and always put his body between mine and the street when we were out walking. He was funny and loyal and totally normal. I fell in love with him at once. It was tempting at times to confess all my secrets to him, but I didn’t.

  I should have told him. I know I should have told him. A marriage has to be based on honesty and trust. But I didn’t tell him. I was never going to use my ability again, so it was as if I didn’t really have it, I rationalized. Besides, what man would be able to live with the fear of being under his wife’s control? It wouldn’t be fair to him to tell him and have him always wondering whether he was doing what he wanted to do or what I wanted him to do.

  So when he asked me to marry him, I said, “yes!” and when we walked down the aisle, I said, “I do.” And I swore to myself again that I would never, ever use the Voice again. It was a lot harder than I thought. I was tempted whenever we fought or disagreed. I was sorely tempted when I wanted to get pregnant and he didn’t, but I did nothing and he came around on his own. And most of all I was tempted every single day of being a parent.

  How nice it would be to have children who actually obeyed! You have no idea what temptation is until you are standing in the checkout line at Walmart and your child is throwing a temper tantrum on the floor and everyone is looking at you like you are a horrible mother. But I had made myself a promise and I kept it.

  Except for Harvey. I had to use the Voice with Harvey. He’s the cutest little dog in the world and I love him. But he’s also probably the dumbest dog in the world. I tried to housebreak him for over a year. I did everything the books said to do. I even tried doggie diapers at one point. That’s love. When I got down to my last straw and was actually searching the internet for Cairn Rescue places to turn him in, I broke down in frustration and used the Voice. To my surprise, it worked. As long as I made him go outside to pee on a regular basis, we had no more accidents in the house.

  But animals are different from people. With a person you are stealing their free-will. It’s almost a form of slavery. With an animal it’s just the natural order of things. They’re supposed to obey, and if a little Voice is needed, then it’s not really hurting anyone. Is it?

  Even with all the temptations, I felt I was succeeding at my normal life. Hiding didn’t mean I was scared. Hiding was cool. Movie stars hid from the paparazzi, spies hid from the enemy, what else hid? Chameleons! Chameleons are cool, right? See, hiding and acting normal was fine.

  The truth was, after a long day of being with my daughters, I didn’t have energy to worry about hiding, or being normal, or anything. I’d never dreamed that being a stay-at-home mom was such a demanding and exhausting job, but I was doing my best. Trying to be normal. As normal as being a parent ever is, which is not too normal, if you ask me. (I never thought I would be asking questions like, “Why are you trying to flush your shoe down the toilet?”)

  I hadn’t used the Voice on another person since that night outside the club, and I thought, once again, that I was in total control. I had no idea how wrong I was.