Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Elizabeth Muir, Part 4 of 5

After Josh went to sleep that night, Elizabeth stayed up and quietly set about cleaning up his side of the room. It was slow going, trying to be quiet while cleaning. Josh stirred at every accidental loud noise, but didn't wake. Eventually she got so tired she had to sleep before it was all done.

***

"Lizzie!"

She groaned and rolled over. "I keep telling you not to call me that," she mumbled at her brother. "What is it?"

"They came!" he was pointing at the lack of clothes and toy cars and robots on the floor. "And look, even the milk!"

Suddenly she remembered. The milk! She had forgotten to empty the saucer. "I'm sorry, Joshua…"

"What? Look! They drank it!"

Elizabeth came to her senses and sat up, looking over at the saucer groggily. At the sight, she woke up completely. Not only was the saucer empty, the toys she hadn't put away were gone. Surely it hadn't been the brownies

 She got out of bed and looked at the bowl. The milk was definitely gone. "You're sure it wasn't Whiskers?"

"Come on, he doesn't like milk. And besides, our door was closed all night, and I checked the bowl before I went to bed. It had to be them!"

"Josh, I…" She didn't want to tell him, but figured it was for the best. "I did it. I cleaned it."

A crestfallen look crossed his face. "What?"

"I cleaned it while you slept." He looked about to throw a tantrum. "Josh, wait. I didn't do all of it. And I forgot about the milk. Someone else cleaned it out."

He squinted, glaring at her.

"I'm telling the truth! I swear!"

"Did you tell Dad?" He crossed his arms firmly across his chest.

"No. No one knew."

Josh frowned. "So it could have been the brownies…"

"I guess…" She said. She didn't know what to tell him.

He uncrossed his arms and put on his idea-having expression. "We have to try again. And this time, don’t mess it up."

Elizabeth sighed. She knew she couldn't change his mind. But the milk and the cleaning was definitely a mystery, so she decided to ask Dad about it. Discreetly, of course. There had to be an explanation.

She picked up the bowl to inspect it. There was the slightest few drops of milk left. So it hadn't been cleaned. No sign of it being poured off one side, either. And Josh was right, Whiskers didn't like milk.

There was the slightest trace of milk on the drawer handle. The only empty drawer left after she'd stopped cleaning. And it was filled with the rest of Josh's things.

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