I nod and sniffle.
“Good.” He scoots back to his seat, then grabs my chin to force me to look at him. “Next time, I expect you to figure a way out. A netherling way.”
My tears gather around his hand, smudging his fingers with makeup.
“You didn’t leave me,” I utter in disbelief. “I thought you would leave me.”
He releases my face and looks out the opposite window while rubbing his hand on his jeans to wipe off my mascara. “Nonsense. I stayed for the car.”
Before I can respond, an orange mist seeps out from the vents. A smile I recognize from my Wonderland memories appears in the vapors.
“Chessie?” I ask. The rest of the hamster-size creature materializes, looking just as I remember: the face of a kitten, the wings of a hummingbird, and the body of an orange and gray raccoon. He flits to the dashboard and perches there, cleaning the oil and grease splotches from his fluffy fur with his tongue, like a squirrel taking a spit bath.
I shake my head. “Wait … so it was you? You crawled inside and fixed the motor?” He sneezes, then winks one of his wide green eyes at me.
“Chessie’s gift is delineation,” Morpheus says matter-of-factly, still looking through his window. “He can manipulate a situation by making a diagram in his mind and then mapping out the best way to solve it. He sees things the rest of us can’t, and then he fixes them.”
With a swish of his tail, Chessie scurries back into place on the rearview mirror. His top half vanishes, and he’s a counterfeit car ornament once more.
I wipe smeared tears from my cheeks. “Do you have any more surprise stowaways up your sleeve?” I ask Morpheus.
Pushing dents out of his hat, he scowls. “I’m starting to fear I didn’t bring enough. If there’s one thing netherlings are good at, it’s cleaning messes.”
“Yeah, well, they’re pretty good at making them, too,” I say.
“Agreed. Some are good at making very big messes.” He looks pointedly at me and buckles his seat belt. “Roadkill comes to mind. Use a little caution this time. We’ll be no help to your mum or to Wonderland if we’re dead.”
Although I’m shaken, I manage to get us to my house. When we pull into my driveway, I’m relieved to see that everything looks normal and peaceful, at least from the outside.
Once more, I try to tell Morpheus thank you for his bravery at the tracks, but he dismisses me like he did all the way here: “I stayed for the car.”
I know better. It’s not the first time he’s done something selfless for me. And I’m starting to suspect he didn’t let me hit the little boy at the stop sign because of the same soft side he doesn’t like to show.
If only he would be consistent—instead of always turning my image of him on its head.
I shut off the ignition and touch Chessie’s swinging tail. “You can come in, if you’ll stay hidden.” The tuft of fur wraps around my finger like a hairy snake, squeezes, then loosens. The gesture leaves me at peace and warm.
“He needs no invitation,” Morpheus scoffs. “If he wishes to go inside, no one will be able to keep him out.”
I start to take off my seat belt. “I’m still stuck.”
Morpheus eases closer and grasps my hand. “Shall we try to take the skirt off?” he says, his voice provocative. “We have the leisure of doing it right this time.”
I’m not sure if he intends all of the innuendos packed into that suggestion, but considering it’s Morpheus, I suspect he does.
“Forget it. I’ll take care of it myself.” I try to jerk away, but he guides my hand to the seat belt. Curling my fingers around the car’s key, he uses the teeth to dig my skirt out of the latch while working the button. After a couple of minutes, the fabric pops free, wrinkled but salvageable.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
“My pleasure.” Eyes meeting mine, he brings my hand up to his lips and flips it to expose my inner wrist. He breathes over my skin—so balmy and close, my veins ache in response. Then at the last minute, he unfolds my fingers, takes the keys, and drops my hand. Before I can even get my bearings, he’s back in his seat.
I press on my wrinkled skirt with my thumb, wishing I could iron out my emotions as easily as the fabric.
“Look …” I find my voice again. “I’m sorry for scaring you by driving so crazy. I shouldn’t have played on your fears like that.”