While Nick gazes beyond me, I try to keep my face a blank page. My emerald scarf is more red than green. I try not to panic. I tear off the bottom of my shirt.
“This will help keep my scarf in place,” I say with feigned confidence, and he doesn’t protest when I tie it snugly over the flimsy scarf around his head. “Now, come on, let’s get out of here.” He lets me pull him to his feet. He’s less combative. Less alert.
“Hey, Old Man,” I raise my voice, “how much farther until we’re out?”
Ooo. I haven’t even asked how he’s been since I saw him last. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own challenges. It’s hard to remember others haven’t exactly been enjoying an easy life either.
“Hard for me to say,” he tells me. “When I collapsed to catch you—”
“What? What do you mean, collapsed?” I try to visualize what it would mean for a mighty mountain to collapse.
“I felt the surge of a great wave,” he says.
The story of how he saved our lives unfolds slowly. Sensing the wave, he collapsed the rocky precipice I’d jumped from that first time I left him, and somehow swallowed us into a safe space inside. If he hadn’t, we’d have been smashed against the wall.
“But, you’re still here! Are you hurt? How did you know we were in the surge?” I sound like Chimney, asking all these questions, and as if he hears his name in my head, my little friend chimes in.
“Yeah, mister, how’d you know?” He searches in the dark for the face belonging to the voice.
“I sense things as they approach. I sensed you, Celeste, the first time we met. Your vibration is distinct; I felt it in the surge. It felt . . . troubled. Stones do not hurt, though. And I remain here, as I have throughout the ages, though you may not be able to see me as easily amidst the rubble.”
“You saved us, Old Man. And I’ve missed your guidance.” I wrap my arm more tightly around Nick, whose copper skin has lost its luster. “But, do you know how far we have to go to get to the surface? Nick is hurt, and I have to get him home.” I shake off a wave of claustrophobia under the weight of all this stone.
“I brought you far in, away from your pursuers,” the mountain spirit tells me.
I glance over my shoulder, though I’m certain we three are the only ones in the cave. “Someone was following us?” I can’t imagine who or what. No mere mortal could have navigated purposefully in the turbulent force of the surge.
But a god—
“A girl, who is a fish,” he says, “and behind her, the one who rules the waters.”
Raised by Kumugwe, Harmony is surely a strong swimmer, but she’s not a fish. “Harmony and Kumugwe, the water god,” I say. “Did you see them? Or how—”
“I am in the stone you see above and below the water’s surface, child. Yes. An alabaster girl with the tail of a fish, and behind her, the monster fish-god.”
“Are they okay? Where are they?”
“The girl swims around a small island mountain I formed to stop the monster. Kumugwe is a fish out of water, trapped in a special mountain cave.”
“C’mon, Celeste! Look, a hallway!”
I want to ask more questions, but Nick is fading and Chimney is pulling me toward an opening in the walls.
“Celeste? Is it you?”
I hear my name again echoing from a long way off. Could someone, something be pretending to be my father? Has Harmony created an imitation of him on land? She had me fooled in her sandcastle. But now I know her tricks. It won’t happen again.
“Follow my voice, Little Bear!”
Little Bear! Would Harmony have known the pet name my father had given me after he taught me about stardust and the constellations? He was Big Bear, Ursa Major, and I was his Little Bear. She couldn’t have known this.
My heart leaps, but I don’t respond. Not yet. Not until I see him. Not until I can look into his eyes. I’ll know then if something’s wrong.
I don’t need Chimney’s help to hold up Nick anymore. I release his hand and follow him toward the opening, conscious of Nick’s growing weight upon me as he loses his ability to walk. The walls reflect the glow radiating from my footsteps.
“Looks like Chim’s found a way out,” I tell Nick, talking to him as if to a child. But his focus remains on the glittering green light swirling up around us. He doesn’t respond to my comment.
The hallway twists and turns and rises and falls and sharp stones jut from every angle, so I’m constantly guiding him to prevent another head injury. He stumbles frequently. Will I ever get him out, ever get him home, ever get him back to me?
Old Man Massive saved us from smashing against a rock wall. He can’t let us die deep within his rubble. I call to him again.
“You say that’s my father calling me. How do you know it isn’t a trick?”
The mountain spirit pauses before answering. “This man’s vibration. It matches yours, little dove.”
I feel like I might burst, so I take a slow, deep breath, and focus on what’s most important.
Searching Nick’s viridian eyes for a sign of remembrance, I whisper, “Thank you for finding me. How did you know where to look?”
And then I see it. It’s just a flicker, but it’s there. He returns my gaze, still somewhat puzzled, but searching for something too.
“Celeste!” Our moment is interrupted by the voice of a man who could be my father. And it’s close. But I’m encouraged by the flash in Nick’s eyes and determined to confront whatever lies ahead.
“Is that your dad, Celeste? Will he take us home?” Chimney points toward an approaching shadow far down the passageway. I see a tiny glimmer of daylight behind the shape, and then, the unthinkable happens.
“Stop!” Nick yells, and everything, including Nick, freezes in time and space.
~ 4 ~
NO. THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING. But it is.
Nick and Chimney and the shadow at the end of the tunnel are all statues. I catch my breath—what if Nick’s power had stopped me too?
He trapped himself this time, though, and I don’t know what the consequences will be. I look into his eyes again hoping to see some indication of awareness. Nothing. He just looks surprised. He trapped himself in the nick of time. It’s an expression I remember my parents using when they’d catch me right before doing something foolish. “Good thing we stopped you in the nick of time,” they’d say.
He’s my Nick of time. But how do I get him back?
I need to know what’s casting that shadow. I need to know if it’s really my father. But what if Nick’s hold on time slips while I’m gone? He could hurt himself more. And if the shadow’s something bad, it could hurt me.
I have to know. I can’t stand the suspense any longer.
“Nick, I know you’re in there and you’re probably upset, but don’t be,” I tell him. Maybe he can hear me and just can’t move yet. “Please remember who you are, Nick. I know you’ll release yourself and Chimney soon, when you’re ready.” If I’m not here when he’s ready, he’ll fall. “I’m going to lay you down so you can rest a bit.”
His head injury could have strengthened his power. Maybe he knew, subconsciously, he could heal faster if he froze himself.
“They’re not really frozen,” he told me back in the village forever ago. He explained how he’d just think the word “stop” and everything around him would seem to freeze in time.
I remember Teresa’s doves suspended in flight above her as she worked in her garden, and how startled I was when I touched her arm and heard her voice in my head. That was forever ago too.
This time, though, Nick shouted the word. Maybe that’s the key.
Searching for keys—my life’s labor.
“I’m going to check out whatever’s down there, so stay here until I come back.” It’s not like he could go anywhere right now anyway, and I could be wasting my time, but what does time even mean when it’s stopped all around you?
I turn to leave, then hesitate. I want to shake him out of
his spell. Instead, I kiss his lips softly. Maybe what he did for me will wake him too. But no. It doesn’t work.
He’s cold, and it scares me. “Come back to me, Nick,” I whisper close to his ear. Looking in his eyes again, I see a hint of a change, or maybe I just wish I see it. “I’ll be right back and we’ll go home.”
I check on Chimney and he seems fine, except for the frozen-in-time part. “Hey, Chim, we’ll go home soon. You stay here with Nick and I’ll be right back.” No change in his expression. I’ll bet he wishes he could use his own power and disappear.
It’s time to face the shadow. But before I leave my friends, I wonder about the reach of Nick’s power.
“Old Man? Are you there?” I look up as if the mountain spirit is above us, but that’s ridiculous. He’s all around us, in every fallen stone and even in the spaces we can’t see.
“I am here.” His powerful voice comes to me in a strained whisper. “What . . . has happened?”
“Nick stopped time and trapped himself too,” I tell him. “Did you feel it?” I can’t imagine Nick’s power would have any effect on an ancient spirit. That idea scares me too.
“Yes,” he confirms my fear. “I feel drowsy.”
Old Man Massive has slept for eons. “I don’t like this,” I tell him. “What if I can’t—”
“You will find a way.” He cuts me off with words wrapped in a yawn.
“I’m going to see who’s at the end of the tunnel,” I tell him, and wait for him to advise me. But nothing. “Old Man?” Nothing. “Old Man Massive,” I say more forcefully. Nothing. He’s asleep. I hope.
The shadow remains motionless. I’m torn between running to the man casting it—wanting to get it over with quickly—and taking my time, hoping Nick’s spell will release while I still have time to react.
While I still have time. I’ve never had time. Time is an idea like home, and I don’t have that either. I shake off a shudder when memories of that horrific day flash through my brain.
A rumbling from the very center of the planet, windows rattling, dishes and artwork crashing to the floor, my puppy whimpering under a table, my parents’ eyes growing wider as they reach for me, as the floor splits between us, as they call to me with their arms outstretched, as they fall into a fissure between us—reaching for me—calling my name—my childish voice calling theirs—Mommy! Daddy!—they’re gone into the void, the reeking void! And I am left alone, unconscious, in the rubble.
Will the smell of sulfur ever leave my nostrils? Will the sound of their screams—and mine—ever stop echoing in my ears?
No.
I run toward the shadow until I’m almost there, and skid to a stop the moment the man’s features emerge. He looks like my father. Older than I remember, but that makes sense. There’s gray in the hair around his ears and in the cowlick on his forehead. The cowlick—just like mine! I remember how he’d cuss in the morning trying to comb it flat like the rest of his hair.
But it can’t be him. It can’t. Even if Old Man Massive says otherwise.
“Don’t believe it, it’s a trick,” I say aloud in an attempt to convince myself. But he looks more real than the fake father Harmony conjured when she had me trapped in her sandcastle. I don’t remember the fake one having a cowlick.
I tiptoe toward him and close the gap between us silently, afraid to wake him, afraid he’ll call me daughter and I’ll allow myself to be wrapped in his protective arms, afraid that once I’m safe in his arms . . . I’ll die.
I touch his outstretched hand. It feels real, and warm. I touch the stubble on his cheeks and chin. I look into his eyes and see—
“Daddy?” I look for a response, expecting none, seeing none. “Dad?” I try again anyway. I’m a big girl now. Shouldn’t be calling him daddy.
It’s him. There’s no way Harmony could have known about the tiny green dots in the blue irises of his eyes or the freckle hidden in his right eyebrow, difficult to distinguish with his skin the color of copper too, but I can see it.
My throat constricts and tears spill. My insides ache and I allow myself to sob, sinking to the dusty ground, crying until I can laugh at the blob of mud my tears have created.
I wipe my eyes and stand.
My father is alive! That means my mom could be alive too! We can be a family again, and we can live in the village with the others who’ve lost their parents—or we could rebuild on this side, where our home used to be!
But now what do I do? Am I the only one free of Nick’s hold?
Beams of light from the opening beyond beckon me. My sides ache from minutes or hours of crying. I’m in no hurry to discover what’s out there, though. I’ve just found my father—if only he’d shake himself from this spell! And what’s hurrying but a desire to speed time, or maybe even to slow it down?
Time isn’t real anymore. It never was.
I have to see what’s out there, though, so I’m ready for it, but first I look into my father’s eyes again hoping to see them respond.
“Dad? I’m here. Your Little Bear’s here.” There’s no change, so I stifle another sob and wrap my arms around him gently and wait to feel him hug me back. He can’t, though, and the waiting is agony.
Finally, I let go and walk toward the opening, slowing as the light increases, squinting until my eyes adjust. I don’t want to walk into another trap. My heart races as I get closer to whatever waits for us.
“Old Man?” I whisper this time, hoping he might be there for me. Hoping he’ll tell me to remember who I am. But he doesn’t. I have to remember on my own.
I’m Celeste Araia Nolan. I’m more than just a girl. I’ve done things.
Out I go.
The air smells clean and cool and I’m in the middle of a slow, deep breath when I see him. A handsome, copper-colored man with wings is stopped in mid-stride toward me. I approach him as I approached my father—my father!—and feel a curious connection to the stranger.
I touch his radiant emerald wings, but pull my hand back quickly. He is helpless. I’m the aggressor. “Sorry,” I say. My parents taught me better than this. And then I look into the man’s eyes. His jade green eyes, flecked with gold. It can’t be him. Can it?
Holy moly, it is!
“Orville?”
~ 5 ~
“ORVILLE! IT’S YOU!” Why should I be surprised he’s a man? An emerald-winged man. The last time I saw him, he was a wind-up metal frog, carrying the shapeshifting vulture out to sea, sacrificing himself for the rest of us. I remember the weight of the wind-up key in my pocket after he flew away.
Nothing should surprise me anymore, but it does. Orville doesn’t respond.
I glance around quickly. Can’t let my guard down in a world still in flux. Everything is silent, too silent, probably because of Nick’s last command.
Nick did it to protect me. It’s a nice thought, but since he doesn’t recognize me, I shake my head. Surrounded by people I love and who love me, I feel more alone than ever.
How did Dad find Orville? Or did Orville find him? And for how long will Nick’s power stop time on this side of the big water?
This side was once my home. I remember feeling safe in my house with Mom and Dad. I didn’t know the meaning of responsibility then, or what it meant to feel burdened.
I gaze around at the rubble surrounding the entrance to Old Man Massive’s cave, and then out across the cracked, dried fields toward the farm where I had my first standoff with Ranger and his wild pack and where I first met Sharon, toward the children’s home that once kept me safe—but safe like a captive is safe.
I gaze toward home.
And then it occurs to me. If Dad is here—it hardly seems possible, but he’s here—then why not our house, with Mom in the kitchen smelling of honey-lemon muffins and making eggs and bacon, and my fat puppy romping around her feet? It’s possible. The fluxes could have reversed the chaos they created.
And if she’s there, I’ll fly her back to where Dad and my friends are and we’ll
be together when time starts again.
“Orville? If you can hear me, please give me a sign. Anything.” I stare again into his kind eyes and wait. And wait. It’s excruciating. I can’t stand it any longer. “I’m going to find my mother,” I tell him. “If you’re released before I return, Nick and Chimney are inside the cave. Nick’s hurt and doesn’t remember me. I’ll be right back.” I hope he hears me.
I run away from the rubble that was once a majestic mountain. I leap and dare to trust I can still fly, and I do. From high above the silent scene below, I can barely make out Old Man Massive’s crumbled features. I wish he would call to me, but enough wishing.
I fly north across the plains, faster and faster. I’m past the old farm when something red catches my eye.
Apples! Apples of every size dot the only tree that stood on the children’s home playground. I drop to it and pluck one from its top branches, sink my teeth into its crisp flesh, and slurp its sweetness. I want to fill my shirt with them, but there’s nothing to tuck in since I tore off the bottom to tie around Nick’s head. I fit several small ones into my pants pockets and shove the apple core with its seeds into a small pocket on my shirt.
I leave to find my home and my mom and bring her to the others, but—
All I see, for as far as I can see once I’m high enough, are ruins amid patches of new growth. Colors of springtime here and there are the only signs of hope for miles and miles and miles. Fissures that opened to swallow and crumble manmade structures years ago have closed and heaved great sections of land, and the water that drowned what was left receded, leaving everything caked in cracking mud.
There will be no sweet-smelling mother waiting for me here.
Celeste? Are you there, ma petite?
Orville’s voice in my head startles me from my delusion. “Yes! Yes! I’m here!” I scream too loudly, though there’s no one around to hear. “I’m coming back! Did you find the boys?”
I cannot move. I do not know what has happened.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be there in a jiffy,” I tell him. In a jiffy. Another funny expression my parents would use. Orville probably never used that expression where he came from, but I’m sure he gets my meaning.
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