O Brother, Where Art Thou?

‘Daughter of Stark! How are you doing today?’

‘Hi, Uncle Thor!’

‘Your father told me I’d find you here. What is this, exactly?’

‘It’s a treehouse.’

‘I have not heard of this Migardian tradition. Do all the young of this planet live in trees?’

‘Hey! You helped me build this!’

‘You caught me, young Morgan. I was just teasing. Have you seen the Man of Spiders recently? I’m looking for him.’

‘No.’

‘You sound angry. What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

‘In Asgard, we had a saying that ‘even a god can be crushed by the weight of a thousand nothings.’ Something is bothering you. Otherwise you would not be scowling at me with such ferocity.’

‘Petey’s being mean.’

‘Ah. Why do you say that?’

‘He promised he’d come to my recital this morning and he never came. Aunt Nat said my pile was perfect. Now all dad is talking about is where he is and when he’s coming back. He doesn’t even care about how I did”

‘Hmm. I see. Have I told you about my brother, starling?’

‘Mr. Loki?’

‘Yes. When we were children, Loki loved to play tricks on me. They were in good humor, but frustrated me greatly. One day, he was practicing his magic and surprised me in front of all my friends. I was very embarrassed and I am afraid I lost my temper. I hit him in the face and broke his nose. When he told our mother, I was in a lot of trouble. I was so angry because I felt she preferred him over me. She didn’t even tell him off for what he did. For the longest time, I held him responsible for every quarrel I had with my mother. It led to a lot of conflict and heartache. I still think about that today. And I regret the things I said to him and my mother out of anger. Sometimes, young fawn, it is better to forgive, then end up with a pile of regret that has no place to go. I miss my mother and brother dearly and want nothing more than to have them back–a thousand tricks be played. I saw the gorgeous flowers your father bought you for your recital sitting in the kitchen back in the house. He told me what a good job you did. A parent can hold an unending amount of love for all of his children–your father especially. Don’t count him out, yeah?’

‘Yeah. I guess.’

‘Don’t count Peter out yet, either. The young hero is facing great trial and tribulation, and will need all the protection we have to offer. He needs you, just as Loki needed me, and I him. Can you do that?’

‘I think so.’

‘Good! Let’s retreat to the house, young Stark! I saw some chocolate cake begging to be eaten. We can wait for your brother there!’

Frozen 2 was Morgan’s favorite movie (actually, her favorite movie was Meet the Robinsons, but that made her dad sad for some reason, so she rarely mentioned it) and as she climbed the trail behind her house, she thought of Anna singing about the next right thing. Morgan didn’t really know what the next right thing would be in this situation–but she knew it wasn’t going to be crying. Because well-adjusted, mature adults don’t cry, and if she was going to make it on her own, she needed to be mature about it. First, find a house. Second, find a job. Third, figure out how to cook. She didn’t want to settle down in Malibu, but she didn’t think it was reasonable to walk to New York. (Her mom taught her “reasonable'' when she was 6-and-a-half and threw a tantrum about Gerald not having a husband or wife. “Morgan, be reasonable. We can’t fit a giraffe in the backyard.” “I mean, we could…” “Tony.” “Sorry. Listen to your mom, Mongoose.” ) 

Her dad promised her a trip to Disneyland last week, and as Morgan walked, she wondered if she could live in the castle. She didn’t take up much space, and there was lots of food there. (And yeah, Morgan was smart, the smartest in her school, and yeah, she knew that Disneyland was fake and MJ said they were ex-pl-o-i-ta-tive, whatever that meant, but it was a better plan than becoming a hill person and surviving off of berries. She needed a map. And maybe a quick rest.) 

Morgan found a large rock formation to sit under as she contemplated her next steps. The sun was setting and the wind was picking up–Morgan shivered and pulled her jacket tight around her. She took a swig of water and ate a bite of granola bar, while watching the shadows dance around the rocks and trees around her. She wondered if anyone would miss her, or if they’d be relieved she was no longer their problem. She tried to get her breathing under control–she wasn’t sure how much further she wanted to walk today, but it had already been about two hours and her legs and feet were hurting. She figured it wouldn’t hurt to close her eyes for a minute before starting again. 

‘Do you believe in heaven, Petey?’

“Why do you ask, bug?’

‘Nicky Gardiletti told me that his grandma disappeared and went to heaven. Did you go to heaven when you were gone?’

‘...No, squirt.’

‘ Will you go to heaven when you die? What about mom and dad? Will I go to heaven?’

‘Those are big questions. Hmm. Can I tell you something my Uncle Ben told me?’

‘Yeah!’

‘When my mom and dad died, Uncle Ben took me camping. I was really little–younger than you–so he set up sleeping bags and a tent in our living room and Aunt May made us s’mores. Ben told me that before a person is born, they are part of the earth and stars and when a person dies, they become stardust again. That every time we touch the ground and look at the sky, those who have died are with us. And that may not be the same kind of heaven that Nicky is talking about, but any time I’m feeling sad, I can put my hands in dirt or watch the stars, and know that I’m with Ben and my mom and my dad.’

‘I’d like s’mores.’

‘Really, Mo. I’m pouring my heart out here. You wound me. Come here, trouble.’

‘PETEY! Stop! That tickles!’

‘I love you, Morgan.’

‘I love you 3000.’

Morgan opened her eyes to a scritching sound, surprised to find the moon high above her. She yawned and stretched her arms while getting to her feet. Her legs felt like pins and needles, and she stumbled a bit, putting her hand against the rock to steady herself. A low growl made the hairs on her arms stand up, rooting her to the spot. Her heart thrummed loudly in her chest, and her hands felt clammy. Turning her head slowly, she watched as a large shadow moved towards her. Two bright eyes shone under the star-filled sky, and Morgan could hear the rustling of leaves as wind whipped around her and the approaching figure. 

Morgan looked up to see if it would be possible to climb the rocks above her or run to a tree before being eaten. She was so dumb! Of course the animal could climb a rock–it was a mountain lion. That’s what they were known for. The cat in question slowly walked towards Morgan, a continuous growl in its throat, its body low to the ground with its tail raised. Don’t provoke it. Play dead. Or was that for a bear? Scream? That’s what she wanted to do but she found she could barely breathe, let alone make any kind of noise. Do mountain lions eat children? She was pretty sure she read something about mountain lions eating children. 

Maybe this was her punishment for knocking her mom off that platform. Maybe God or whoever decided she deserved to be eaten for being such a bad person. She felt her chest tighten as tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t believe she was crying again, for the second time today, and she felt a shiver run through her as she tried to stop the sobs stuck in her throat. She knew she didn’t deserve it, but she wanted her dad. She wanted him to come and pick her up and rock her back and forth and give her kisses and sing her songs and tell her it would be ok. She wanted Petey back. She wanted him to swing her away and tickle her and rub her back and tell her stories. She wanted Aunt Nat to tuck her into bed and Uncle Happy to sneak her a hot chocolate and Uncle Rhodey to give her stuffed animals that would make it all better. 

She wanted her mom. She wanted her mom so badly. She wanted her mom to run her hands through her hair and kiss her head and tell her how proud she was of her and how much she loved her and how she was the best kid in the world. She wanted her mom to pick her up and cradle her in her arms and whisper silly things like how her dad’s beard would look if they dyed it purple or how Petey’s room would look if they filled it with glitter balloons. 

Her head felt woozy and she was pretty sure she was going to throw up. The cat was a lot closer, and Morgan could see its teeth bared and gleaming in the moonlight. Morgan scooted back, but that seemed to be the wrong move, because the animal growled louder and looked like it was about to pounce. 

Tears were falling freely down Morgan’s face as she shut her eyes. 

The mountain lion was close enough that Morgan could feel its hot breath on her. She whimpered involuntarily, turning her head away. She hoped it would be quick and it wouldn’t hurt. 

What happened next, Morgan couldn’t exactly say. 

A shout and the sound of a rock hitting against the ground in front of her filled her ears. Morgan braced for an attack, but it never came. There was grunting and growling and a scream ripped through the night air, but it wasn’t Morgan’s. She opened her eyes, trembling, and watched as her brother wrestled the lion. It lasted for maybe a minute. Morgan heard a snap and a grunt and watched as Peter stood up, swaying a bit, before running over to her. 

His hands were all over her face and arms, checking for injuries. 

“Morgan. Morgan! Are you okay? God, Morgan, are you alright? Did it bite you? Are you hurt anywhere?” 

There was a rushing in her ears. She looked at Peter who was staring back at her, eyes filled with concern and panic. She didn’t know what just happened. So she said the first thing that popped into her head.

“You’re not wearing any shoes.”

He chuckled incredulously and swept her into his arms. “Yeah.” He sniffed, “Forgot them.” He put her down and knelt down to look her in the eye. 

“Are you hurt?”

“N..no. I don’t think so.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Good.” He nodded to himself like he was answering a question. “Good.” With a grunt, he picked her up and sat her on top of the rock formation she had been sleeping under. He pulled himself up with a hiss. Morgan noticed that rock was stained red where he was sitting, and was surprised to find blood on her shirt. 

“Petey.”

“Yeah, squirt?”

“You’re bleeding.” She touched his side gently, which she just noticed was leaking a lot of blood. Like, a whole lot. 

“Yeah. I think I can check ‘wrestle a wild animal’ off my bucket list. I’ll be fine.” He swayed and Morgan could tell–even in the dark–that his face was paler than it should be. Morgan grabbed the antiseptic spray and water bottle in her bag, as well as one of her spare t-shirts. She handed it to him with trembling hands. 

“Will this help?”

“Perfect, Mo.” His smile was fond, but his face was pinched in pain. He tried to grab the water bottle, but his hands were shaking too much and he almost dropped it. Morgan took it back and poured water on his side. She tried not to throw up when she saw how deep the bite was–she could see part of Peter’s muscle and despite washing the wound out, it kept bleeding. Morgan tried to remember what her Aunt Nat told her about cuts. She wadded up the t-shirt and pressed it hard against Peter’s side. He grunted, but didn’t stop her. She watched as his eyes opened and closed slowly. She pushed harder. The blood soaked the shirt she was holding. Peter swayed, and Morgan watched, horrified, as he passed out. She kept pressing, trying to keep from making noise lest another mountain lion find them. 

When the bleeding finally slowed, Morgan laid down next to Peter and put her head on his chest. Listening to his heart and counting his shallow breaths, she finally fell into a fitful sleep, taking note of the stars above her head and the ground beneath her body, wondering if she’d ever have a chance to apologize to yet another family member she hurt by simply being her.