Gatekeepers

by Robert Liparulo

  “Jesse said he can help.”

  “Can you?” Xander asked the old man.

  “Absolutely.”

  Xander smiled at that. He rose and headed for the front door, Toria right behind him. David stopped at the bottom.

  “What are you going to do?” David asked, though he had a pretty good hunch.

  “Get Mom,” Xander said.

  “You mean you’re sending Toria to get her,” David said. “You can’t do that.”

  “Dae, we agreed. We said today, this morning, remember? It’s always been about Toria going over.”

  “But—” David turned to Jesse. “Toria’s never been into another world. She thinks that because she’s a little girl, she won’t run into the same problems Xander and I did.”

  Jesse looked up at Xander. “That may not be true, Xander. You’ve noticed a lot of aggression toward you in those other worlds, right?”

  “Have we!” David said. “Everywhere we go someone’s trying to kill us. I’m twelve. Do I look like a soldier? Do I look like a spy? But General Grant shot at me! And he wasn’t the only one—”

  Jesse was patting the air in front of him, telling David to calm down.

  “You were wearing the wrong colors when we first went over,” Xander protested. “And in World War II, you walked into the middle of a firefight.“

  Jesse waved his hand at Xander. “Boys! Yes, the circumstances you walk into have a lot to do with whether you’re in danger. But it’s more than that. You may look like you belong when you go over, but you don’t. The people over there sense that. Like there’s something not right about you.”

  David thought about the hostile looks the soldiers in the Civil War camp had given him—even though they could see he was a child. And the tribesmen who had immediately thrown spears and shot arrows at him; he hadn’t threatened them in any way.

  He said, “See? Xander, they’ll sense that about Toria. You can’t let her go. Jesse, tell him!”

  Jesse frowned. “David—”

  David saw it in his face: he was about to agree with Xander! “Jesse, you just said—”

  “David, if she gets in and right back out . . . it would be hard for those men over there to mistake her for a soldier.”

  David’s shoulders slumped.

  Behind him, Xander said, “Come on, Toria.”

  “Wait, wait!” David said. “Toria, you heard what Jesse said.

  Do you still want to go?”

  She made a face that said Not really. But she nodded.

  “Your ankle! How can you go with your ankle like that?”

  “I can walk,” she said.

  “But you can’t run. I haven’t been in a world where I haven’t had to run.”

  She simply stared at him, a tight little frown bending her lips.

  David didn’t care about being outvoted. He just didn’t want his sister to go. Not there. Not to any of the worlds. But what more could he say?

  Jesse said, “I’m sorry, David. Maybe the portal won’t come around before we get back, but if—”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get your daddy out of jail. I have experience with small-town authorities, thinking they can do anything they wish.”

  “Xander!” David turned to his brother, then back to Jesse. “Tell them to wait. Dad can go get Mom. They don’t know him in that world.”

  “Thing is,” Jesse said, “I don’t think they should wait. You mother being lost over there, taken against her will, without any way of finding the portal home—getting her out of there quickly is worth the risk. And given Toria’s age and how short of a time she should be there . . .” He looked up to her. “Just in and out, right, young lady?”

  “Yes, sir,” Toria said.

  “David,” Jesse continued, “if you weigh the possibility of your mother disappearing forever against the possibility of Toria having some trouble, I think you’ll agree. What I’m saying is: get her while you can, however you can.”

  CHAPTER

  forty

  WEDNESDAY, 3:28 P.M.

  David stood rigid at the head of the third-floor hallway, his arms crossed over his chest. Jesse’s points were hard to argue with, but Toria wasn’t his sister.

  Xander and Toria marched up and down the crooked hall, checking each antechamber for the Civil War items.

  Come on, Dad. Where are you?

  They’d been up on the third floor over an hour now. How long did it take to get Dad out of jail?

  Xander looked his way, and David changed his worried face to an angry scowl.

  “This would be faster if you helped,” Xander said.

  “I don’t want it to be faster,” David said. “I don’t want it at all.”

  Xander stopped, the handle of an open door in his hand. He said, “Well, don’t get any ideas.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like trying to stop her from going over when we find the right portal.”

  “At least wait until Dad gets home.”

  “Nice try,” Xander said. “You know Dad wouldn’t let her go.”

  “Which should tell you something.”

  “It does.” Xander opened a door, peered inside, closed it. “That Dad is so cautious, we might never find Mom.”

  David bit his tongue. Xander wasn’t going to listen to anything he had to say.

  His brother frowned. “Come on, Dae,” he said. “When I was mad at Dad for lying to us about the house, you said we had to get along. Work together. You were right. I’m not mad at you for disagreeing with me now, but you’re being pigheaded.”

  “About Toria’s life?” David said. “Yeah, I am.”

  “You heard Jesse. What might happen to Toria is less awful than what might happen to Mom if we don’t find her.”

  “What’s worse than death?”

  “She’s not going to die.”

  Xander checked the antechamber closest to David, then headed back the other way. He said, “What if it takes days for Jesse to get Dad out, Dae? What if something happens to Mom while we’re waiting? Could you live with that?”

  Toria was hobbling from door to door, staying off her banged-up ankle as much as she could.

  “Toria,” David said. “Don’t do this.”

  She walked toward him, making a sad face. “I don’t like you and Xander fighting.”

  “Then don’t go. Tell him you changed your mind.”

  “But Xander’s right,” she said. “We need to get Mom, Dae. The people over there won’t recognize me.” She touched his arm. “I’ll be careful, and I’ll come right back if it gets scary. I promise.”

  David went to the landing. It looked as though a bomb had gone off at the base of the stairs. The two walls had collapsed into the second-floor hallway. Wires and studs jutted out from where the walls used to stand, and plaster dust covered it all.

  “Got it!” Xander said.

  The words hit David’s gut like a one-two punch.

  Toria shut the door she had just opened, looked at Xander standing in the doorway of an antechamber halfway up the hall. She turned back to David, fear on her face.

  Both boys called to her at the same moment.

  She went toward Xander.

  Five minutes later, she wore both jackets, the Union blue over the Confederate gray.

  Xander told her, “If you wind up on the Confederate side, switch them. When you get to the Union side, switch back. But you should come out in the woods right near the camp, so no sweat. In camp, take off the jackets and fold them up. Carry them like you’re taking them to get cleaned or something. Your kepi too.”

  He spun around, grabbed the blue hat from a hook, and pulled it down over her head. It covered her eyes, and she pushed it up.

  “I think they’re back,” David said, though he had heard nothing. He ran to the antechamber’s hallway door. “Really,” he said. “Wait up and see.” He called out: “Dad!”

  Behind him, the portal door opened.

  Toria
and Xander stood in front of the portal. Bright sunlight poured through, along with the odor of smoke and gunpowder. Out-of-focus trees and bushes drifted slowly past.

  “It looks like the woods by the camp,” Xander told her. “Just like I said. Don’t lose the clothes. They’ll show you where the portal home is. They’ll pull you toward it. It’s that simple. You ready?”

  “Toria,” David said.

  But she had stepped through.

  He ran to the doorway.

  She was lying in tall, yellow grass—she must have tumbled when she stepped through. Nothing unusual about that.

  He yelled, “Come right back if you don’t find Mom right away!”

  Toria squinted at him, and stood. “What?” Her voice wavered, as though caught by the wind.

  “David!” Xander said.

  The door struck him in the back. It always closed on its own after someone went through. It knocked him into the door frame and pushed him as forcefully as the grill of a semi truck.

  Xander grabbed his arm and yanked. David spun back into the room, and the door slammed shut.

  CHAPTER

  forty -one

  WEDNESDAY, 4:09 P.M.

  David sat on the bench, his eyes fixed on the portal door. His fingernails were absently scraping his plaster cast. He had flaked a groove into it and found some cloth gauze encased within. He fingers now flicked at this, tearing an ever-widening hole.

  Xander paced. He walked to the portal door, spun, and walked through the opposite doorway into the hall. He marched back through and did it again.

  Neither brother had spoken since Toria had left.

  Finally David said, “It’s been twenty minutes.”

  “Almost,” Xander said, continuing his back-and-forth strolling.

  “Longer,” David said. “Xander, something must have hap-pened to her.”

  “Give her a chance, Dae. She’ll be back any minute, wait and see. And with Mom.” Now he did stop. His face was alive with excitement. He really believed Toria would find Mom and bring her home.

  Xander’s belief infected David. He allowed himself to feel it, to feel that Mom really was on her way. He could almost smell her, that hint of flowers that seemed natural to her. He imagined throwing his arms around her, squeezing her. He would never let her go.

  As worried as he was, he smiled back at Xander.

  Somewhere in the house, a door slammed.

  “Dad!” David said. He jumped off the bench. Both boys ran into the hall and stopped on the landing. “Dad!” David yelled again. “Jesse!”

  No reply.

  They turned big eyes on each other. “You think,” David said, “maybe it’s those big guys again, the ones from the other world?”

  Xander shook his head. “They’d come from one of the rooms up here. Besides, Jesse said Phemus couldn’t come back so soon.”

  They returned to the antechamber, and David took up his spot on the bench. He swallowed hard and glanced nervously at the open door. Xander walked to the portal door, tried the handle—locked, of course.

  Another bang. David jumped.

  Xander gave David a puzzled look and went into the hall. “Dad?” he called. He walked away from the antechamber.

  David went to the doorway and peered out.

  Xander was standing halfway to the landing, listening. “Probably just the house trying to spook us,” he said.

  “It’s working,” David said.

  “Could be just the wind,” Xander said. “ I’ll go check.” But he didn’t move, just stood there, as if expecting David to say, “Nah, never mind.”

  Instead, David said, “Okay.”

  Xander smiled. He walked to the landing, then tromped down the stairs.

  David watched for a few seconds, then he scanned the hallway. All the other doors were closed, as they were supposed to be. He glanced over his shoulder at the portal door Toria had used.

  Twenty, twenty-five minutes she’d been gone. That was too long.

  He had an idea. Xander would never let him do it, but hey, he was downstairs. Dad would call it impulsive—doing something simply because the chance presented itself. It was unplanned, stupid.

  Not stupid this time, David thought. Not when it’s been almost a half hour.

  He slipped into the antechamber, plucked a canteen and the gray kepi off their hooks, and picked up a sword from the bench. He opened the portal door—unlocked now that he held the items—and stepped through.

  David ran through the woods toward the meadow of dry grass and the Union army camp on the other side. He could not see much activity among the tents: one or two people walking along the center aisle. Most of the soldiers must be at the front lines. He wished he’d had time to research the Civil War, especially the Union side and its encampments and battle policies, before plunging into it again. But they’d hardly had time to grab a few hours’ sleep, let alone do homework.

  At the edge of the woods, he dropped the sword into the grass. As he tucked the kepi into his waistband, he looked around for landmarks that would help him find the sword again.

  That tree, he thought. Split, as though by lightning.

  He hoped the pull of the kepi and canteen, and the items Toria had brought, would be enough to guide them to the portal home.

  He bolted for the tents. Before he reached them, he heard a scream coming from the front of the camp. Toria.

  He angled that direction through the field. He reached the back of the first tent and stopped.

  Toria was crying. Men were laughing.

  David’s guts felt twisted. He looked around the edge of the tent. Toria was walking slowly away from two soldiers. She was limping, trying to avoid putting weight on her injured ankle. She wore the blue kepi and jacket, and she was heading south, toward the hill over which David knew the battle raged. And she was carrying a rifle!

  The gun was longer than she was tall. She had not brought it over with her. The Harper’s Ferry rifle David had used on his first venture to this world was still in the antechamber when he left. She kept glancing back over her shoulder.

  The two soldiers followed twenty paces behind, laughing and pointing their rifles at her. Both weapons were fitted with long bayonets.

  One soldier yelled at her, “Skedaddle, sweetie! Get out there and fight! Else we’ll have to shoot you ourselves.” He laughed, stopped, and jabbed the bayonet at her, though she was way out of striking distance.

  “Everyone fights!” the soldier said. “Even country gals like you. No excuses!” He turned to his compatriot, a big grin on his face.

  The other man yelled, “We don’t wanna see you coming back ’less it’s on a stretcher. You go all the way! Kill you some graybacks, then we’ll think about letting you into camp.”

  The first soldier spotted David running toward him. “Hey, what’s this?” he said, and swung the rifle around.

  David didn’t slow down. He swung his arm cast at the bayonet, knocking it aside. He jumped and shoved his palms into the soldier’s chest. The man backpedaled and fell.

  “David!” Toria ran to him. She tossed the rifle away and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Woo-woo!” the standing soldier said. “Young love!”

  “She’s my sister,” David said. “What do you think you’re doing? She’s a little girl.”

  The downed man regained his feet. He picked up his rifle but held it vertically, casually. David thought his fury had startled the meanness out of the man, at least for the moment.

  The soldier said, “Well, then, we have two greenhorns to send to the front, don’t we?”

  “We’re friends with General Grant,” David said. “Where is he? General Grant! General Grant!”

  “Whoa, young master,” the second solder said. “The general is in battle. Young lady, why didn’t you say you knew the general?”

  “Both of you!” David said. “I’m reporting both of you!” He grabbed Toria’s hand and led her past the men into the camp.

&
nbsp; He looked back. The soldiers were standing together, whis-pering. One of them scratched his head.

  “You didn’t find her?” David said.

  “No,” Toria said. “I saw Bob. He was drawn on the tent, like Xander said. And the message Mom left. I looked into a tent, and those two saw me. They started pushing me around, and one of them said I should be fighting.”

  “They’re idiots,” David said. Then he yelled, “Mom! Mom!”

  “I thought we were supposed to be secret?”

  “Who cares now? Let’s find her and get out of here. I’ve had enough of this place. Mom!”

  Toria took up the call: “Mom!”

  The soldiers they’d left were heading for them. Something had them suspicious—maybe it was nothing more than what Jesse had said, that he and Toria weren’t supposed to be there, and they sensed it.

  David yelled again. “Mrs. King! Gertrude King!”

  The soldiers were closing in.

  “Ignore them,” David told Toria. They continued toward the rear of the camp. With her limp, Toria’s gait was more of a skip than a walk.

  “Mom!” Toria yelled.

  “Mrs. King!”

  “You two!” the soldier behind them said. “You stop right there.”

  David turned to face them.

  The one he’d knocked down said, “Doesn’t sound like you’re looking for General Grant. I don’t think you’re friends with the man. In fact, I don’t think you even know him.” He stepped closer, the bayonet five feet from David’s chest. “Sammy, I think we got us some spies. Oooo, those gray-backs are getting tricky, sending kids.”

  The other soldier said, “You know what we do with spies?”

  “Shoot on sight,” the first man said.

  “David?” Toria whispered.

  An older woman, wearing a blood-covered smock, ran out from a nearby tent. She stopped between David and the bayonet. She faced the soldiers, put her fists on her hips, and said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Well, ma’am . . .”

  “These are children!” She pointed toward the front of the camp. “Go, both of you, before I have you thrown into the stockades!”

  The two soldiers looked at each other, then back at the woman. Their shoulders slumped. They turned and walked away like five-year-olds heading for time-out.