by Gilbert Ford
Maria rested the pen between her knuckles against the floorboards and waited. She could feel the icy air still slapping her face. “Edward! I’m ready! Just tell me!” she pleaded.
But Edward would not take her hand. Maria cleared her throat, closed her eyes and relaxed on her mattress. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me, Edward. You left me alone at Mrs. Fisher’s when I needed to find her treasure. Don’t leave me in the dark now!”
Finally, she felt the ghost’s hand slide into hers. As she fell into her trance, the pen flung about in just a few squiggles before it dropped to the floor.
Maria opened her eyes and stared at the dusty wooden floor. She could barely make out the chicken scratch written on the splintered wood. Did it say daNgEr? Yes, it read Danger!
Maria read the word aloud: “Danger … Edward, I don’t get it.”
“DANGER! DANGER!” a voice echoed behind her.
Maria froze.
Where did that voice come from?
Ice slid down her back.
She took several shallow breaths, unable to control her breathing. Finally, she managed to get out a few words: “Who—Who—Who said that?”
But Maria would know that voice anywhere. She had heard that voice in her dreams. It was the voice of obedience, the voice that echoed her mother’s every thought.
Houdini.
If Houdini was there, then where was her mother?
Maria’s eyes darted about the closet.
Next to her mattress were two worn pumps.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
One shoe rapped against the floor, patiently waiting for Maria to understand. Attached to it was a pale, thin leg, covered by a fake fur coat at the knee.
Angry eyes fell onto Maria, underneath a large turban.
“DANGER! DANGER!” cried Houdini, wobbling on Madame Destine’s shoulder.
Maria’s heart stopped.
All she could do was back against the wall and stare into the pale face that had been hidden with the coats.
Madame Destine doubled over with laughter while Houdini beat his wings about the closet. After catching her breath, she bellowed, “Maria! I knew you were talking to someone, but I had no idea that someone was Eddy!”
Maria froze.
How did her mother know Edward?
Had she even mentioned him in the closet? Yes, she had. She had asked him to tell her what was wrong. And then he wrote a message!
After Houdini settled onto Madame Destine’s shoulder, she stroked his beak, before turning her gaze on Maria. “So this is what you do in here when I’m not looking,” she said, motioning to the pen on the floor. Then Madame Destine kicked the pen out of the way as she stepped in front of the door to block Maria from escaping. “I heard your little toy buzzing in your room,” she added, pointing to the mattress.
Maria swallowed hard.
She’d left the walkie-talkie on full volume before she fled.
“You do know you’re forbidden to talk to other children.”
Maria nodded, trying to swallow again. But she couldn’t. Her throat was dry.
“Well, Maria, you’re quite the little performer. You almost had me fooled.”
The hairs stood up on Maria’s arms as she remembered hearing Madame Destine say this when she’d answered the phone in her dream.
Where is he, child? Is he in here now?”
“Wh-wh-who?” Maria squeaked.
“Eddy. You in here, Eddy?”
“I don’t know what you—”
“Save it, motormouth! I heard you say ‘Edward’! I heard you say ‘treasure.’ I heard you say ‘Mrs. Fisher’!”
Maria shook her head.
She was trapped. She pushed herself back and felt the hard plastic of the walkie-talkie dig into her back. She took a deep breath. All she had to do was press the button and pray Sebastian was listening upstairs.
Madame Destine reached inside her coat and pulled out two white squares of paper. Slowly, she unfolded them. Then she read the first paper. “Tell her first: Remember the light of the silvery moon … and the honeymoon a-shining in June.”
They were the messages Madame Destine had taken from under the fruit bowl. She had been holding on to them all this time!
Maria brought her hand behind her and felt the contours of the walkie-talkie until she found the button.
Then she pressed down on it.
Madame Destine brought the other message up to her eyes and cleared her throat:
“Poor, penniless Mrs. Fisher will miss the ring on her finger. But hidden inside her flat, her fortune rests untapped. Mr. Fisher hopes that you’ll help her find what she will treasure.”
“TREASURE! TREASURE!” echoed Houdini.
Madame Destine crumpled the messages and dropped them to the floor. “How long you been talking to Eddy? Tell me!”
Maria shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Save it,” said Madame Destine. Then she delivered a vile smile. “Well, this is all very surprising.” She folded her arms and rested her weight against the door.
Madame Destine took up all the oxygen in the small, cramped space.
Beads of sweat formed at the top of Maria’s scalp.
“You know, your grandmother had it. I always knew she could talk to them—ghosts.” Madame Destine waved her hand in the air. “Me? Never could do it. But I guess Eddy’s told you about me by now.” Madame Destine reached down and stroked Maria’s chin. “How long have you known?”
Maria tried to refrain from showing any emotion. One false move could set her mother off. But her heart was thundering inside. “Known what?” she gasped.
“That I’m not your real mother,” she said, releasing Maria’s chin.
Madame Destine wasn’t her mother? But if she wasn’t her mother, then where did Maria come from? “Who is my mother?” Maria managed to ask her.
Madame Destine shrugged. “Who knows! She died in a car wreck before I met your father.” Then Madame Destine clapped her hands together. “But how wonderful it is you’ve known your father all this time!” She paused before curling her upper lip. “THAT DUMB POET DEADBEAT!”
Maria tried to think, but she couldn’t. “Who?” she whispered.
“What was I supposed to do?” continued Madame Destine, ignoring Maria’s question. “I was single, with two mouths to feed. Your grandmother loved you and offered to teach me the tricks of the trade if I took care of you.”
Maria couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Could that “dead-beat poet” be Edward? And Edward was her father? Madame Destine had told Maria her father had disappeared long ago. But he was a ghost.
No wonder he’d been talking to her all these years! He was trying to protect her. Protect her from Madame Destine. Her stepmother.
“My first thought was to get rid of you. I had to take care of myself. But when I looked into your eyes and held you in my arms, I knew I had to keep you as my own, so I gave you my last name.” Madame Destine shut her eyes and smiled, cradling her arms as if she were holding a baby Maria. Then she stopped and opened her eyes. “Your father was never a stable man. You know what he left me after he jumped in the river?”
Maria shook her head, fighting back her tears. Her father must have taken his own life.
“Nothing!”
“NOTHING!” echoed Houdini.
“He left us not one thing to our name!” Tears swelled in Madame Destine’s eyes. “I had only one choice if I wanted to feed you, Maria. There weren’t many options for me then.”
Maria found it hard to believe Madame Destine was playing the victim after lying to her about everything all these years.
“After your grandma died, someone knocked on my door looking for her and I said, ‘Sure. That’s me.’ And so I became Madame Destine.”
Maria’s finger was sore from pressing the button on the toy, but she didn’t dare remove it. Please! she thought. Sebastian, please be listening.
&
nbsp; “I had to do the only thing this family’s known for! I had to talk to the dead! I had to see the future!”
Maria said nothing. This imposter had posed as a psychic and then as her mother.
“But it looks like we’re in luck,” continued Madame Destine. “Remember how I asked for one teensy last favor from you?” Madame Destine bent down so that her eyes stared straight into Maria’s.
A favor? Maria wanted to run, but she didn’t dare. She only shook her head slightly.
“We’ve got one last job to do before we skip town, and you’re gonna bring me to it!”
Maria shook. “Wha-what is it?” she gasped.
“Take me to Mrs. Fisher’s home and find me her treasure!”
Maria shook her head. “I won’t do it.”
“Oh, you’ll do it, so help me!”
Maria shut her eyes. She wished this imposter would just go away.
“I’ll take away everything you love. No pens. No library. No books.”
Maria fought to hold back her tears.
“You’ll take me to that treasure!”
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Maria pulled her head up and wiped her eyes. Could it be the police? Could Sebastian have come to rescue her?
Madame Destine peeked behind the cracked door before she let it swing open. “I found her,” she said under her breath. “She came back for her things.”
Mr. Fox stood in the doorway like an undertaker waiting for a funeral.
He held a shovel in one hand and a sack in the other. “I buried the files and parked the van around back. Whaddya wanna do with the girl?”
“She’s proven to be useful after all,” replied Madame Destine. “We got one stop to make before we skip town. Did Mrs. Fisher leave her address with you after she made her donation?”
“That she did. It’s in the log in the van.”
“Let’s go, then,” said Madame Destine. “Get up, Maria. Move!”
Maria stood carefully, making sure she was pressing the button on the walkie-talkie. She followed her stepmother out of the closet, but just as she was about to turn into the kitchen—
CRACK!
The toy knocked out of her hand and hit the floor.
“You think you’re so smart!” said Mr. Fox. “We won’t be sending messages to our friends, will we?”
Maria exhaled before letting her shoulders sink. The walkie-talkie had been her only hope. Now it was smashed against the floor. She would never see Sebastian again. She hoped with all her heart that he had heard everything and would warn Mrs. Fisher.
“Let’s go!” ordered Madame Destine. They left in a hurry.
As Maria stepped into the van, she looked one last time at her building, searching for Sebastian in his window.
24
Kidnapped
The sun melted behind the glass towers of the city, setting the city ablaze while the East River reflected the sky in fiery ripples. A white van hurtled through the flames, crossing the Manhattan Bridge.
Maria knelt in the dirty van, tucked between boxes. She tried to hold her balance, but the bumps jolted her this way and that.
Madame Destine and Mr. Fox bickered up front.
Maria blamed herself for this mess. Why didn’t she listen to Edward’s warning at home? And poor Mrs. Fisher! Nothing good would come to her after they arrived at her apartment. Now Maria was being taken away by a lady pretending to be her mother. She knew Madame Destine had conned every person who walked into their brownstone. But she’d never believed she’d been conned herself. Why hadn’t Edward told her Destine was her stepmother? He’d told her she was smart and kind, but never who her parents were. He must have been trying to protect her from the truth. If Edward was her father, then who was her real mother?
Maria shivered, then rubbed her arms. “Oh, Edward?” she whispered. “Are you here?”
But the cold air did not answer back.
The van screeched to a stop, thrusting Maria forward. She wrapped her arms around her knees and shook.
All was silent.
Maria tried to collect herself. She had no idea where she was.
Two doors squeaked ajar at the front of the van. Then footsteps approached the back.
Screeeeech!
The van door slid open with one long swoop.
Mr. Fox and Madame Destine peered between the boxes at Maria curled in a ball.
“Get out!” Madame Destine ordered before slamming the front door.
“GET OUT! GET OUT!” echoed Houdini from her shoulder.
Maria took slow, deliberate steps away from the van.
Then Madame Destine and Mr. Fox each grabbed one of Maria’s arms and pulled her forward, charging for the steps of Mrs. Fisher’s apartment.
“Keep quiet and do as you’re told,” said Mr. Fox.
“Ring the buzzer!” demanded Madame Destine.
Maria shook her head. “I can’t!”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” her stepmother fumed. She pressed the button long and hard. “Stay there and don’t move!”
“DON’T MOVE!” echoed Houdini.
Maria couldn’t stop from shaking. She heard the buzzer ring across the apartment. She searched Mrs. Fisher’s windows.
They were dark.
Please don’t be home, Maria thought.
But one light turned on. Maria caught her breath. Then she heard the familiar light steps of the widow descending the stairwell.
Madame Destine and Mr. Fox stood against the facade of the building on either side of the door.
Mrs. Fisher took a peek outside the small window at the entrance.
Maria frowned. She knew she was the only person in the widow’s line of sight.
The door slowly creaked open. “Maria? Sweet child! What are you doing here after dar—”
“Good evening!” said Madame Destine as she pushed the door farther open. “Thank you for inviting us in!”
Her smile deflating, Mrs. Fisher glanced at Madame Destine and then at Mr. Fox.
The couple pushed Maria inside.
“I do believe you are acquainted with my daughter,” said Madame Destine. “And you’ve also had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fox.” She slammed the door behind her and added, “We won’t be long.”
Mrs. Fisher brought her hand up to her heart, but Maria stared at her feet. Looking at Mrs. Fisher was just too painful. She’d led them to her.
Mr. Fox guided the widow up the stairs, and Destine followed.
Maria dragged behind, knowing each step brought her closer to Mrs. Fisher’s apartment, away from anyone who could help them.
Once they reached the top, Mrs. Fisher let them in, and they filed in silence down the long hallway to the living room. Then Mrs. Fisher dropped to the edge of her sofa and placed her shaking hands in her lap. “I should have known Maria was yours the day she followed me home. What brings you here?” she asked, her voice quivering.
Maria tried to remain calm. She didn’t want to be part of Madame Destine’s pack. She wanted to be with kind people, like Mrs. Fisher. Maria fell beside the widow and buried her head in Mrs. Fisher’s lap. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t mean to lead them here. Please don’t hate me!”
Mrs. Fisher stroked Maria’s head. Then she cleared her throat. “I don’t know what plan you have going, but I have nothing of value here.” Mrs. Fisher pointed her ringless finger at Mr. Fox. “That man took the last valuable thing I owned.” Mrs. Fisher looked around her apartment, then shrugged. “But take whatever you want,” she said. Then she lowered her head, and her voice softened. “Just leave Maria with me.”
“Oh, give me a break,” Madame Destine said, her upper lip twitching. “You do have something of value. I’ve received a message that there is a treasure here.” Madame Destine checked her reflection in the full-length mirror and fluffed up her collar before she continued. “I tell you what. You provide us with the treasure, and I’ll see to it that Maria isn’t harmed.”
Mr
s. Fisher shook her head. “But there’s no treasure. Not that I know of. Eddy never told us what it was.”
Maria pulled herself from Mrs. Fisher’s lap. “It’s true … Edward never told us.”
Madame Destine took a deep inhale but remained composed. “Then we will have to make Eddy tell us, won’t we!”
Maria shut her eyes. “Edward?” she whispered. “Edward, if you’re here, please tell us where the treasure’s hidden.”
The air did not stir around her.
Maria tried to hold herself together, but trembled. “He—he—he’s not here.”
Mr. Fox slapped the table. “What a load of bunk! How’s this girl gonna find us anything?”
“Shhhh!” said Madame Destine. She took three steps before she stopped and erupted with laughter. “Oh, Eddy? I know you’re here. IF you truly love YOUR daughter, you WILL do as I say!” Her eyes darted about the room. “You’ll tell us where the treasure is. And if you don’t … Do you care about your daughter?”
Madame Destine yanked Maria by the hair so that she had no choice but to stand, leaving Mrs. Fisher behind on the sofa. “Have a seat at the table,” said Madame Destine. “And get ready to write!”
Maria fell into a chair at the dining room table.
Mr. Fox found a blank sheet of paper and a pen and placed them in front of her.
Madame Destine rubbed her hands together while Houdini peered from her turban.
Mrs. Fisher quietly eased off the sofa and tiptoed to the hallway.
“Watch her!” said Madame Destine, and pointed at the widow.
Mr. Fox ushered Mrs. Fisher back to the sofa and stood beside her.
Maria shut her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to tune out Mr. Fox and Madame Destine.
“Edward?” she asked, and paused before her chin trembled. Then she blurted out, “I’m sorry. I did my best.” Maria covered her mouth and shook before she regained composure.
But then she felt the slightest tingle.
Maria brought her head up and sniffled. “He’s here.” She eased back in her chair and balanced the pen between her knuckles. An icy chill engulfed her hand, and before she knew it, she was in a trance. Her hand moved along the blank sheet of paper, this way and that, as fancy penmanship magically appeared where her hand traveled. Finally, the spirit left her. Maria’s head fell back, the warmth returning to her.