Jeanie's Teeny Tikes

     Flooken gave her a look. “You don’t have much experience with Babies, do you?”

     “What gave that away?” Ailemea said dryly. Flooken frowned, so she added defensively, “I did basically raise Nexy!”

     Flooken looked unconvinced. “You mean the highly intelligent, almost entirely self-sufficient, fifteen-year-old ‘baby’?” he asked dubiously, nodding toward the Baby Yurble studiously reading a History Textbook in the reading corner.

     Ailemea grinned and shrugged. “He used to be a bit…more…baby.” Flooken arched an eyebrow at her, but moved on, leading her to the cabinets.

     “We have lunch at 11:30AM NST, after which the babies all take a nap. Don’t let them fool you, they all need naps—even Nexy.” Ailemea nodded along. “After their naps, it’s snack time. This is important: they are only allowed one snack. They’ll try to worm more out of you, but you have to be strong. And then keep an eye on the snack cupboard. We keep it locked, but these guys are crafty.”

     Ailemea snorted, and Flooken paused.

     “What?”

     “I was just laughing at the joke.”

     “What joke?” Flooken looked confused. Ailemea’s smile faded. The exchange was interrupted by wailing. Flooken and Ailemea both turned toward the sound.

     “Mets again,” he sighed. The Baby Jetsam had a Blumaroo plushie, and it was obvious he’d just taken it from another baby, the Flotsam. Ailemea followed as Flooken confronted the Jetsam. “Metselri,” Flook scolded. “I’ve told you many times we don’t take toys from the other babies. Please give the plushie back to Eloquie.” The Baby Flotsam scampered over to hover and whimper at Flooken’s hooves. Metselri pouted, but he gave the plushie to her.

     Crisis averted, Ailemea and Flooken were just turning away when Eloquie stuck out her tongue and swatted Metselri with the plushie. Mets started to cry. Flooken sighed and massaged his forehead. “Oh good grief,” he said, and he took the plushie from Eloquie, who also began to cry. Flooken rose his voice over the wailing. “That was very naughty, Elle. I’m going to have to take this away for today.” Ailemea followed him as he walked away with the plushie, plugging her ears as the crying continued.

     Flooken glanced at her. “They’ll stop crying once they realize I won’t give in,” he assured her.

     “WHAT?” she hollered. Flooken just shook his head and led her to a side room. He took a key from around his neck. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside, closing the door behind them. Ailemea removed her paws from her ears.

     Inside the room they found an abundance of random items: toys broken and whole, food items in various states of decay, and even weapons. Ailemea quickly took note of a whole wall of cages and aquariums in which a host of Petpets sat looking miserable.

     “What is this place?” she asked.

     “This is ‘Lockup,’” Flooken explained. “It’s where I put anything causing trouble. I’ll be honest, it’s been awhile since I cleaned up.” He gave her an embarrassed smile as he gestured at a rotting Chomato.

     “What’s with the Petpets? Why are they locked up?”

     “Oh, those guys,” Flooken gave the wall of Petpets a wary look as he dropped the plushie on a shelf. “We have enough to handle without adding that crowd.”

     “They can’t be that bad. They look so sad!” They walked out of the room together.

     “Trust me on this,” Flooken pulled the door closed firmly and made a point of locking it.

     “They’re just Petpets.”

     “They’re the Babies’ Petpets,” Flooken said, as if that explained everything. Ailemea arched a well-groomed eyebrow.

     “So?”

     “Look,” Flook said exasperatedly. “When you set those Petpets loose, you’re only giving the babies tools to use toward your own demise.”

     “You act as if the babies are criminal masterminds,” Ailemea said ruefully. Flooken laughed outright.

     “You don’t know them like I do,” he said. He looked at her appraisingly, “You probably came in here thinking this is gonna be a simple gig bouncing babies and singing songs.”

     “Um, no one said anything about singing any songs.”

     “These babies may look cute and innocent,” he went on ominously, “but there’s a dark underside to this nursery.” Aile looked from the bright colours and babbling babies in the room back to Flooken.

     “They’re babies,” she said flatly.

     “They’re delinquents wearing the masks of Babies!” he declared a bit hysterically. He dropped his voice, “And those Petpets are their minions! Come here. Let me show you something.”

     They walked back to the kitchenette, where Flooken used his key again to unlock one of the cupboards. He pulled out a thick three-ring binder full of tabs and sticky notes. He offered it to Ailemea. She looked at it skeptically, then looked back at him without taking it.

     “What is it?”

     “It’s a binder obviously.”

     “I can see that.”

     “Oh just look!” he said in exasperation, opening the binder on the kitchenette’s small table. He flipped through the pages, showing her how there was a section for each Baby in the nursery. Ailemea put a paw on the binder to pause his flipping.

     “Are these…dossiers?” Ailemea said. She began to read. “Kasinnia, alias Kasi, quiet but adept. Known conspirators: Metselri, Rogeth…” She skimmed the rest of the page. “Seriously, Flooken? Her wadjet can pick locks?”

     “She’s a wily one,” he affirmed. “They can get up to all sorts of trouble.” Ailemea pursed her lips, and then she gently closed the binder.

     “I think you may need a vacation.”

     “What? Why?”

     “You’re obviously feeling some underlying stress around the babies.”

     “What are you talking about? I love the babies!”

     “Then what’s with the binder?”

     “I am a trained spy, Ailemea,” he said, gesturing at his Camouflage coat. “It’s second nature to gather this type of information. I can only hope it benefits others if anything happens to me.”

     Ailemea frowned. “What’s gonna happen to you?”

     Flooken locked away the binder and turned back to her. “Nothing today! Come on, let’s get back to the babies. Just watch for today, ok? You can help tomorrow when you understand better how we operate.”

     “I have absolutely zero problem with that.”

     ***

     Ailemea was surprised how quickly the time passed. But then, they were busy! In spite of Flooken’s assurance that she’d only be watching today, Ailemea reluctantly found herself helping out here and there. Flooken spent an inordinate amount of time covered in snot, soaked with water, and splattered with who-knows-what (Aile didn’t want to know). Ailemea thus spent a similar amount of time helping him get cleaned up. She met the rest of the babies as they went along. Trohanex “Nexy” and Kasinnia “Kasi” were Jeanie’s oldest babies Yurble and Chomby, so Ailemea knew them well. Then there was Millibet “Millie,” the Peophin who stuck close to Mets and Elle; Rogeth “Rog” the Scorchio; Bowhery “Bo” the Draik; Iofae “Io” the Vandagyre; and Suons “Su” the Grundo. Ailemea’s head hurt a bit trying to keep it all straight.

     It was approaching noon when there was a knock at the center’s door. Ailemea spotted a red Scorchio waving a friendly paw through the window.

     “That’ll be our lunch delivery. Keep an eye on Rog, he’s insatiable.” Flooken unlocked the door for the Scorchio and followed him to the kitchenette where he and Ailemea began unpacking. The box was full of various flavours of baby food. “This should last us all week, assuming we can keep Rog out of the fridge,” Flooken said.

     “This is lunch?” Ailemea asked uncertainly. There was only purees in the box. Flooken understood immediately and chuckled.

     “Jeanie will be bringing us big kid food,” he assured her. Ailemea let out a breath of relief, and a light draft blew through her mane. This caught Flooken’s attention, who whirled around.

     The delivery Scorchio was gone, but he’d left the door standing open. A short green figure with a fat pink bow on her head had wandered outside.

     “Oh Su,” Flooken sighed, and he hurried off to catch the Grundo. Ailemea finished unpacking the box, closing the majority of it in the food cupboard, which locked automatically. She noted Rog idling nearby and gave him a stern look. He looked back with the ultimate expression of innocence.

     A yell from outside startled all of them, and the babies all rushed to the window. There were gasps and whispers, which spurred Ailemea out the door. Outside, Flooken was on the ground. Su crouched beside him patting his hoof comfortingly. The Ogrin groaned and tried to massage his head, which wasn’t really feasible with hooves. Ailemea hurried to his side.

     “What happened?”

     He looked up at her a little blearily. “I was just collecting Su when an evil-looking coconut dropped out of nowhere and knocked me good on the head.”

     “You’ve got a giant pteri egg forming on your head,” Ailemea observed, gently prodding at the lump on his head.

     “That’s just one of our regulars, but he shouldn’t be here today,” Flooken mumbled, eyes going a little glazed. Ailemea felt a spike of alarm.

     “Let’s get you an Ice Negg for that lump,” she said, putting her paws around Flook’s belly to heave him to his feet. Su followed behind them as they limped back into the center.

     No sooner had Flooken had wearily flopped into a beanbag than Jeanie arrived. She carried bags that wafted delicious smells. Rog greeted her first, hugging her leg and whining. Jeanie patted his head, but her attention was on Flooken immediately.

     “What happened?” she gasped, dropping the bags and hurrying to Flooken’s side. Ailemea noted that a few babies immediately converged on the abandoned bags, but she ignored them as she explained the event to Jeanie.

     “Oh those darn evil coconuts,” Jeanie grumbled as she examined the bump on Flooken’s noggin. “This looks bad. You might have a concussion. We should run over to Neopia Hospital to get you checked out.”

     This suggestion seemed to restore some clarity of thought to Flooken, who balked. “I can’t leave the babies!”

     “Ailemea can tend them!” They both glanced at Ailemea, who felt just as alarmed at the idea as Flooken. To the side, all of the Babies had paused and were giving her appraising looks.

     “Of course I can!” she said with as much false confidence as she could muster. “The hospital is barely a block’s distance. You should go get checked out.”

     “I don’t know,” Flooken mumbled, his eyes going out of focus again. “The minions of the evil Dr. Sloth are known to drop Cootys when we aren’t looking.”

     Jeanie grimaced at him. “We’re definitely going,” she said, helping him up once again.

     As he was towed out the door Flooken seemed to find sense again. He turned back in a panic, but Jeanie dragged him along.

     “Ailemea!” he yelled. “Lock the doors! Don’t let them detect weakness! AND FOR FYORA’S SAKE, READ THE BINDER!” His hollering was muffled then by a click as the door closed.

     Ailemea flipped the deadbolt as she numbly watched Jeanie pull the Ogrin away. A heaviness settled in her stomach as she realized she was alone.

     Alone except…she turned slowly around and looked into the faces of nine Babies staring back at her.

     To be continued…