The bird shrieked again to indicate it understood. Then it took off from the windowsill to soar back into the air. The Watchmaker watched it disappear around the side of a building. It wouldn’t take long for the message to spread. From there it would only be a matter of time before Marsh was found. Rampart City might be a big place, but she couldn’t hide from them, not with that power of hers.
The Watchmaker left the window open and then returned to the dining room table. He still had much to learn from the book before the time came.
Chapter 15
In the restaurant parking lot, Dan gave Emma a lengthy kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow, babe,” he said afterwards.
“I can’t wait.”
They had to decide then on whom would ride home with whom. Becky grabbed Emma’s arm and said, “I’ll take Em home. Mom, you ride with Daddy.”
“That sounds fine,” Mom said. “See you girls back at home.”
“We will.” Under her breath, Becky added, “Not for a while though.”
“What?”
“Come on,” Becky said. She practically threw Emma into the front seat of her car. “You weren’t really planning on going home yet, were you?”
“Don’t we need to get some rest before the wedding? I don’t want to look tired.”
“We’re just going to get a few drinks. After all, it’s your last night as a free woman.”
“Oh.”
Emma was content to go along with this until they pulled up to the Plastic Hippo. The club didn’t appear any more reputable in this timeline than the one she remembered. “This is a strip club,” she said.
“So? They serve drinks.”
“Becky, I’m not going to a strip club. I’m getting married tomorrow.”
“That’s why you need to go to a strip club tonight. Get it all out of your system.”
“Becky—”
“Just a couple of drinks and then we’ll go home. I promise.”
“Mom will be furious.”
“So? We’re not kids anymore. She can’t ground us.”
Short of putting Becky in a chokehold, Emma didn’t know what she could do. “Fine, but just a couple of drinks and then we go home. I don’t want to be out all night.”
“Jeez, you aren’t even married yet and you’re already acting like someone shoved a stick up your ass.”
“I’m being responsible.”
“Well that would be a first.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I just find it ironic you’re talking about being responsible now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Forget I said anything. Come on.”
Becky paid the cover charge for both of them. As Emma had figured, the Plastic Hippo had not gotten any classier in this timeline. She averted her eyes from the stage, where a man who wore even less than Dan in the photo on her desk gyrated on a pole.
Becky led her over to a table in the corner. Emma sat with her back to the stage. “Stop being such an old sourpuss,” Becky shouted over the thumping techno music. “You used to work here!”
Emma almost fell off her chair at that revelation. “Was I a…dancer here?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Just tell me!”
“You were a waitress. At least until they found out you weren’t really twenty-one.”
A real waitress appeared to get their drink orders. Again Emma felt faint as she recognized the waitress as Lydia Schmidt, the crime boss of the city. Or at least she had been in the other timeline. Apparently in this timeline she was a middle-aged waitress, saggy breasts clad in a tube top and wrinkled face slathered in a pound of makeup.
“Bring a half-dozen Jell-O shots for me and my friend here,” Becky said.
“A half-dozen each?” Emma said.
“Wow, you can still do math.”
“I’ll be back in just a minute, girls,” Lydia Schmidt said.
“What’s with you? You look like your cat died.”
“This isn’t me,” Emma mumbled. “This isn’t my life.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“What happened to me, Becky? I used to be a good girl, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you used to be a real teacher’s pet.”
“So what happened?”
Lydia Schmidt returned with a tray of a half-dozen tiny containers of Jell-O. Emma knew these were not like normal Jell-O cups. She watched as Becky took one of the cups off the tray and then tossed the whole thing down her throat. She threw a couple of bills onto the tray; the former Don Vendetta scurried away to give them some privacy again.
“Look, it’s your life, Em. Don’t ask me to explain it to you.”
“Please, Becky. Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t know. I guess you got sick of the genius thing. The doctors called it a nervous breakdown from stress. Then you went off to Costa Rica so you could ‘find yourself’ or some shit like that.” Becky downed another shot. Emma hadn’t touched any of the ones in front of her. “When you came back, you were different.”
“How so?”
“You were fun. We actually went out and did stuff instead of you sitting around all weekend with your nose in a book.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“You know, this kind of stuff: drinking, picking up guys.”
“And I’ve never tried to finish my doctorate?”
“No. Why bother? You got Dan now. He can take care of both of you.”
“Maybe I don’t want him to take care of me.”
“So get your stupid doctorate. What do I care?”
Emma looked down to see Becky’s half of the shots were gone. She thought again of what Mrs. Chiostro had said. She wasn’t the same Emma Earl, not the one Becky had talked about. But it didn’t matter. After tomorrow she would be married to Dan. They would start a new life. The past wouldn’t matter anymore, only the future.
Becky drank all of Emma’s shots as well as her own. After the last one, she got to her feet. “Come on, let’s dance!”
“I don’t know how,” Emma said.
“Sure you do. We do it all the time.”
“No thanks.”
“Fine, sourpuss, I’ll do it myself.” Becky took a step, wobbled, and then collapsed onto the floor. Emma leaped off her chair to kneel down beside Becky. Her sister didn’t seem hurt; she had just passed out. Lydia Schmidt came over to them to ask if Becky was all right.
“She’ll be fine. She just needs some sleep,” Emma said. She hefted Becky to her feet, grateful that in this timeline Becky was skinny. Once they were outside, Emma could hear Becky snoring. She dropped her sister in the backseat and then took them home. There was still a wedding in the morning.
***
The moment they got outside, Veronica put her hands to her ears. “It’s so loud!” she whined.
Marie supposed it was louder than Veronica’s world with all the cars, stereos, and people on cell phones. “Don’t worry. We’re going to find somewhere nice and quiet.”
Marie wasn’t sure where they could go. She had grabbed her purse, but she’d left Veronica’s pills. Perhaps tomorrow she could go back; the witch should have left by then. In the meantime they would need a place where no one would think to look for them.
There was only one place she could think of. She carried Veronica through the streets as fast as she could. After a half-hour, Veronica began to cry. “I want to go home, Marie.”
“We’re going to find a new home. A better home.”
“I don’t want to. I want to go home. I want Mama and Papa.”
Marie ducked into an alley. She brushed hair back from Veronica’s face to look her in the eye. “We can’t go back to Mama and Papa, not right now. I promise we will soon. Until then, I need you to act like a big girl and trust me. Can you do that, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” But then Veronica asked, “Can I at least get Lucy back?”
“We’ll
get her tomorrow. I promise. Now, come on.”
St. Matthew’s was where she remembered. The cathedral still stood, though now most of its stained-glass windows had been shattered. A sheet of plywood had been nailed up over the doors so scavengers wouldn’t plunder the church.
Veronica shivered in Marie’s arms. “What is this place?”
“This is where I used to live,” Marie said.
“You lived in a church?”
“Not exactly.”
Marie went around back, to a rectangular brick structure—the orphanage. Marie made sure her special eye was covered; she didn’t want to look back into the past of this place. If she did, she knew she would see herself as a sad, lonely little girl who dreamed of her mommy and daddy. They never came for her. In the end she was turned over to a state psychiatric hospital two years before the orphanage closed.
Someone had padlocked the doors to the orphanage. Marie paid little heed to this; she already knew how to get inside the building. She set Veronica on the ground. The little girl continued to shiver and cry. “I’m going to leave you here for just a minute so I can get us inside. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl. I promise I’ll be right back.”
She trotted away, around to the side of the building. It didn’t take long to see she was right. While they had padlocked the main doors, no one had bothered to padlock the cellar door. The door was locked, but the wood had become so rotten that a few good kicks broke it open. She was able then to reach inside to open the lock.
When she went back around the building, she found Veronica sobbing. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m here now.”
“I want to go home!” Veronica screamed. “I hate you! I want Mama and Papa!”
“I know, sweetheart. I know. It’ll be all right now.” She picked Veronica up and ignored the little girl’s punches and kicks. She carried Veronica around the corner, to the old cellar.
The cellar steps creaked dangerously as she descended them. At the bottom Marie was plunged into darkness. She had no choice then but to brush the hair back from her special eye. She focused on the room, until it lit up, the air warmer from the furnace.
And there in the corner was little Marie, just seven years old. Like Veronica, the young Marie squatted on the floor and sobbed. The nuns had locked her in the cellar as punishment when she claimed she could see into the past with her eye. “Only God can see like that, you heathen child,” Sister Mary Francis had told her and then locked the door behind her.
“Marie, I’m scared,” Veronica whined.
“I know, sweetheart. We’re going now.” With the past as her guide, she navigated the old cellar. She paused at where her younger self sat. She bent down so little Marie could see her and Veronica. “It’s going to be all right, Marie. I promise. One day things will get better.”
The other Marie only nodded to her and then continued to cry.
Upstairs, Marie found the orphanage not much changed than when she had left it, except now the beds and other furniture were gone. “What is this place?” Veronica asked.
“It’s where I used to live.”
“You lived here?”
“Yes. A long time ago. When I was a little girl like you.”
“This place smells strange.”
“I know. We won’t be here long. Tomorrow we’ll find somewhere better.”
“All right.”
Marie left Veronica in one corner while she searched for something to sleep on. She used her special eye to help guide her through the orphanage. Along the way she saw some of the other girls she had once lived with. They couldn’t see her; only the other Maries could see her. As she walked around, she saw herself as a toddler, a child, and a teenager. The other Marie’s only nodded to her; they couldn’t talk to her. If the nuns caught them talking to thin air, the other versions of Marie would be sent back to the cellar.
On the third floor she found some old canvas tarps. That should be good enough to make a nest for she and Veronica tonight. Tomorrow they would find someplace else, where they could be safe from witches and anyone else.
By the time she brought the tarps down, Veronica was already asleep. Marie felt the little girl’s head, but she didn’t seem any warmer than before. All of the excitement had been too much for her. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Everything will be better soon.”
Chapter 16
Marie had not gotten more than two hours of sleep that night. She watched over Veronica most of the night. The former orphanage was much quieter than she remembered. When she had been a little girl, the nights were filled with the sniffles and muffled sobs of the children who yearned for parents. Marie had often been among those, at least until she got old enough to realize no one would come for her. She would never have a normal family.
When she looked at Veronica, Marie smiled. They might not be a traditional family, but they would be a family. She would take care of Veronica better than the little girl’s mother ever could. They would be happy in a way neither of them had ever been before.
As light began to break through the cracks in the boards over the windows, Veronica stirred. “Marie?”
“I’m here, sweetheart,” she said. She put a hand on Veronica’s forehead; the skin felt cool now. “How do you feel?”
“Good. Can I go home now?”
“Not yet. Today I’m going to show you where the angels live.”
“You are?”
“That’s right. But first we need to get you some new clothes.”
“Then I can go home and show Mama and Papa?”
“We’ll see.”
Marie carried Veronica back through the cellar and then outside. They had just got onto the sidewalk when Veronica said, “Marie, I’m hungry. What’s for breakfast?”
Marie wasn’t sure about that. Then she saw a McDonald’s up ahead. “Breakfast is right over there,” she said.
Along the way, no one paid much attention to Marie and Veronica. Plenty of other girls wore pajama bottoms like pants, so the fact Veronica wore a nightgown didn’t faze anyone. Besides, this was Rampart City, one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world. As they passed an Asian girl with turquoise pigtails, Marie smiled to herself. Veronica would be less out of place than many people from the present.
“What is this place?” Veronica asked once they’d gone inside.
“It’s a restaurant.”
“Where are the waiters?”
“They’re up here, at the counter. We tell them what we want and they make it for us.” Marie picked Veronica up so she could see the menu better. “What would you like?”
“Can I get cinnamon French toast like Tilly makes?”
“I’m afraid not. But how about some eggs and sausage like Papa eats?”
“All right.”
Marie ordered a big breakfast platter for Veronica so she could sample most everything. For herself, Marie only got an Egg McMuffin and a cup of coffee. She set Veronica down on the floor then. “Why don’t you go find us some seats?”
Veronica nodded. She took a few hesitant steps, unsure of what to do. “Anywhere is fine,” Marie said. “So long as no one else is sitting there.”
Veronica went over to a plastic booth. She touched its surface experimentally, not quite sure what it was. When she sat down on the bench, it was with the hesitation of someone who thought the bench would collapse at any second. Her entire body remained tense even after Marie had brought the food.
“Don’t worry, it’s very strong,” Marie said.
“It feels very queer.”
“It’s plastic. It’s about as strong as iron but much lighter.” Marie opened the foam container for Veronica’s breakfast. The little girl’s nose wrinkled as she stared at the food. “See, we’ve got eggs, sausage, a biscuit, and pancakes. Would you like syrup for the pancakes or jelly?”
“Syrup,” Veronica mumbled.
Marie unwrapped a plastic fork and knife. She handed thes
e to Veronica. “Go on, try it.”
“I don’t want to. It looks disgusting.”
Marie had seen Veronica do this before at her breakfast table in the 19th Century. Like many children she was a very finicky eater. Also like many children she liked to test boundaries to see what she could get away with. If Marie didn’t lay down the law now, Veronica would continue to fuss all day. With as much motherly authority as she could summon, Marie said, “Veronica Frances Windham, you eat your breakfast or I’ll thrash you right here in front of everyone.”
Veronica’s eyes widened. She had no way to know the 21st Century frowned on corporal punishment, especially in public. In her day people would applaud a parent who beat a child in public for bad behavior. “Yes, ma’am,” Veronica grumbled and then scooped some of the eggs onto her fork. She made a face as she put the eggs in her mouth.
“Eat it,” Marie said. Veronica swallowed the eggs; her cheeks turned red, but she didn’t cry. “That’s a good girl. Now clean your plate. You need to eat if you’re going to get your strength up.”
“Then can I go home?”
“We’ll see.”
***
Emma again woke to her mother shaking her shoulder. “It’s time, baby. It’s your big day.”
She didn’t need to hear any more before she launched herself out of bed. She sprang up and wrapped her mother in a hug. “Take it easy, baby. We’ve got a long day ahead.”
“I know. I’m just so excited.”
“You go and take a shower while I get breakfast.”
“OK, Mom.” Emma skipped across the hall, into the bathroom. She put both hands to her mouth to stifle a scream when she saw Marlin in the mirror again. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if you had decided to listen to reason yet.”
“No. I’m getting married today and that’s final.”
“You really aren’t fit to wear that armor if you’re going to be this selfish.”
“Selfish? You want me to kill my own parents.”
“They aren’t supposed to be alive. You know that.”
Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call Page 41