by Adam Dreece
Richy squatted down and touched the floor with a shaking hand. He gazed around, taking in every emotionally prickly detail. “I recognize that window,” he said, standing and taking a step towards it. “In one of my dreams, I saw something—I don’t know what—but then the monsters in the shadows got angry and I screamed myself awake.”
Bakon scanned around. “I can’t see anything that stands out.” Looking back at Richy, he could see the boy might be starting to lose it.
“Why was I here? Why?” said Richy, tears dropping. “Why? Why?—”
“Hey!” said Bakon, snapping his fingers to get Richy’s attention. “Kid, trust me—I have all the sympathy in the world for you, and you’re an amazing kid, but we don’t have time for a meltdown. So pull it together! You can do this. Okay?”
Richy gazed back, seemingly only half there.
Bakon stomped in frustration, cracking some of the floorboards. “It’s just—I’m—I’m no good at this!” he yelled, stomping again even harder. Bakon wished he could explain to Richy his own nightmares, how he and his brothers had been abandoned as children, but he just couldn’t find the words. He hated situations like this—they made him feel helpless, like the day he and his brothers had been abandoned. He couldn’t take seeing his own pain reflected back at him in Richy’s eyes. He wanted to rip that feeling apart.
“What’s that?” said Richy, pointing at something showing through a broken floorboard under Bakon’s feet.
Bakon got on all fours and quickly removed the broken pieces of floor, revealing some large books. He picked one up carefully and opened it. He took a minute to scan a couple of pages. “I don’t believe it. These are accounting ledgers.”
“Accounting… for what?” said Richy, trying to look, though Bakon wouldn’t let him.
“Of… kids,” said Bakon. He closed the ledger. “Richy, the people who care for you up in Minette—they are your parents; your family. Whatever happened in the past is in the past.”
Richy’s hands stopped shaking. His eyes shifted from fear, to anger. “Those people in Minette? They aren’t my parents. They don’t even want me. Each of them thought the other would take me when they split up. What kinds of parents think that? They aren’t my family!”
Bakon’s hands were open, as if he was trying to catch something that he couldn’t see. “Look… I don’t know what to say about them, but I know that Tee, Elly, and the others—even me and my brothers—we’re your family too. All this stuff here—” said Bakon, gesturing to the ledgers, “—is just going to eat away at you if you let it.”
“I need to know,” implored Richy, looking Bakon in the eyes.
“Okay, okay. Sit down,” said Bakon, opening the ledger and showing it to Richy.
Richy looked at the page, but it didn’t make sense. “How can you read this?” he asked.
Bakon gave him a sad smile. “You know how the Klaus family took us in when we were young… and helped us? At least—as much as we’d let them?”
“Yeah,” said Richy. “I heard that you, Squeals, and Bore were found in town, near the market. You were just seven or eight.”
“Seven. Anyway, we never made it easy on them, but they didn’t mind,” said Bakon. “One of the amazing things about Isabella was that she made sure we got lessons, like her own kids. We didn’t have to do all the same ones, but one that Isabella insisted I finish was accounting. I never thought I’d understand it, but she never let me give up—she somehow knew I could finish it, if only I’d keep at it.”
The two spent the next half hour breaking up more floorboards, pulling out journals, and leafing through them independently—after Bakon had showed Richy what to look for.
“I think—” said Richy, getting choked up and closing the ledger he was holding, “I think I’m in this one. I can’t look.”
Bakon put down the ledger he was holding and took Richy’s. “Let me have a look.”
Richy started pacing about nervously.
Bakon took his time to digest the entries and notes, flipping back and forth to confirm his understanding. He watched Richy pace, and wondered how he’d take it. Would he hold on to the world he knew, or would he abandon it to hunt down the past?
Richy locked his fear-filled eyes on Bakon.
“Come here, kid,” said Bakon. Richy plunked himself down and let out a big breath. He fidgeted with his hands. Bakon held open the ledger between them.
“Right here, it shows that you were bought. There are some interesting notes I’ll get to in a minute, but from everything else we’ve seen, the Ginger Lady didn’t buy children. She sold children, received children, and stole them—but you’re the only one she appears to have bought… ever.”
“Why?” asked Richy. “That makes no sense.”
Bakon shrugged. “I can’t find why she bought you, or to whom she was planning on selling you. I do know that you were here, and for two months. That was when, according to the notes, her second house—wait… you said you remembered this house?”
“Yes,” said Richy. “Why?”
Bakon re-read the entries and was disturbed by his realization. “Someone warned her that Lieutenants Archambault and Charlebois were coming, and she put you in the other house, with most of the other kids. Her angry notes here describe someone forcing her to do that as part of a deal. Perhaps the other house was a setup, intended to be found by the Lieutenants.”
“But who might warn and help the Ginger Lady?” asked Richy.
Bakon shook his head. “All I know is that the rest of this stuff says that you and several other kids were lost to her, and she’d only be allowed to keep three.”
Richy nodded as he processed what Bakon was telling him. “What’s that picture, just here?” he said, pointing to an odd little drawing in the ledger.
“I don’t know… it kind of looks like a firefly,” said Bakon. “It only shows up on the entry where she bought you. I checked the rest in this book, and I didn’t see it in any of the other books, either. Did you?”
“No,” said Richy. He took the ledger and studied its plain, black cover. It looked so unassuming, so harmless, and yet it was filled with horrible tales. Richy thought for a moment. Finally, he handed it back to Bakon. “I’ll remember that picture, but I don’t want this. You once said we misfits need to stick together, and that you guys are my family. Well, you’re right—I don’t care where I came from. I know who I am. Maybe what that Red Hood called me, Hotaru… maybe that’s just how I said ‘who are you?’ when I was here. I was three, so it could mean anything. I think I can let all of this go. I won’t let it haunt me.” He looked at his trembling hand and made a steady fist from it.
Bakon was impressed. He took the ledger from Richy and placed it on the pile with the others. He heard something, and looked out the window. “Eg and my brothers have returned from their scouting.”
“Hey, Bakon?” said Richy, gazing up at the rough-looking man.
“Yeah, kid?”
“Thanks, really,” said Richy, giving Bakon a hug.
Bakon tapped him on the back. “You’re welcome, kid.”
As they walked out, something nagged at Bakon.
“You boys all done?” asked Egelina-Marie, from up on her horse.
“Yeah, we are—pretty much,” said Bakon, in thought. “You know—why don’t you four head out? There are a couple of things here I’d like to double-check.”
There was something in Bakon’s tone that Egelina-Marie hadn’t heard before. She glanced at his brothers to see what they’d say.
“Fine with me—just don’t be too late,” said Squeals, unconcerned. “It’s still my birthday. We’ve got to finish our celebrating.”
Bakon gave Squeals a practiced smiled and an affectionate slap on the arm. “Don’t you worry—I’ll be ready for it!”
Squeals was happy for a moment, but then his look changed. He’d seen Bakon do that to other people, and to Bore, but never to him. Something didn’t feel right.
&nb
sp; “I’ll catch up to you guys before you know it. Brisk, here—” said Bakon, giving his borrowed horse a tap on the neck, “—will have me blazing past you in no time.”
“Okay… bye, then,” said Egelina-Marie as she, Squeals, and Bore got their horses moving again. Richy got into his sail-cart and followed.
Two hours later, Egelina-Marie and Richy returned to the Ginger house. Bakon’s horse was gone.
Richy hopped out of his sail-cart. “This is silly. He probably just went another way.”
Egelina-Marie dismounted, scanning around. “As a guardsman, never mind as my father’s daughter, you learn to trust your gut. My gut tells me he was hiding something.”
“Should we have left Squeals and Bore behind in Mineau?” asked Richy. “They might have been able to help. It didn’t feel right lying to them.”
Egelina-Marie shook her head. “Honestly? I don’t know. My gut told me that they shouldn’t be here.” She paused. “Can you figure out in which direction Bakon’s horse might have gone?”
Richy started examining the surroundings, as Pierre had taught him. “There are hoof prints, here, that lead… eastward. Why would he go east?”
Egelina-Marie shook her head in wonder. “He should’ve headed west. Does it look like he turned his horse around?”
After continuing for twenty yards, Richy stopped. “No. He got his horse really moving by this point. What’s east of here?”
Eg looked around, and then at the decrepit house. “I think the only place for answers is in that house.”
Richy looked at the house, too. It seemed to already be losing its power over him.
Egelina-Marie walked over and into the house, then came right back out, holding her hand over her mouth. “Ugh—I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything like in there.”
“I’ll go. I can tell you if anything’s different from when I was here with Bakon.”
A couple of minutes later, Richy returned holding a ledger. “Compared to when I was here earlier, there were more of these scattered all over.”
“What made you grab that specific one?” asked Egelina-Marie, taking the old book from Richy and leafing through it.
“It was thrown against a wall, and a side table was broken, just over it. I don’t remember that being there when I left.”
Eg flipped through each page until she noticed two with smudged ink marks. She touched the spots. “They’re still wet,” she said, thinking. “I think something here made Bakon… cry.”
“He can’t cry—he’s too tough,” said Richy, defending his idol.
Egelina-Marie closed the ledger and closely looked at the ledger’s spine, and then the cover that was damaged at the edges. “I think he dug his fingers into this book, before he threw it. He must have been quite angry.” She opened it back up to the wet page. “I can’t read this. Here. Can you?”
“Bakon did show me how,” said Richy, taking the ledger. “These are the dates, here, and this is where the kids are listed. She used this symbol here to indicate a boy, and another for a girl. She wrote the ages here. This symbol means the entry is canceled. Like these ones, here. I guess she never got the kids.”
Egelina-Marie looked at the information again and got all choked up. “Oh, my—the date. The… oh… those ages—”
“What? What is it?”
“They’re in the book… the Cochon brothers.”
Richy’s eyes went wide. “Wait…” Richy handed the ledger back to Egelina-Marie and ran inside. “There was something else out of place!”
He returned with a crumpled piece of a paper, handing it over to Egelina-Marie. “Can you read it? I just… I can’t look, but I saw writing.” The fear he’d felt earlier had returned. He closed his eyes as Egelina-Marie read it out, her voice trembling.
“Thank you for agreeing to take the boys. Your services came highly recommended, and I hope you are able to reunite them with extended family. You should have received my fiancée’s payment with this letter. I was nanny to these boys since each was born, and I have cared for them since their family was killed. I will deliver them in the next four weeks. They are three, five, and seven years of age. It is with a heavy heart that I bid them goodbye, but I have little choice. Please take care of Boris, Sevilin, and Beldon Pieman, my three little piggies.”
Richy turned to Egelina-Marie. “But, that means—” he started, in a panicky voice.
Egelina-Marie motioned for Richy to calm down and wait. She gently folded the letter and placed it in her pocket. Her voice was controlled as she said, “Richy, I’m going after him—”
“And I’m coming with you,” said Richy decisively. “Bakon and you are family to me. I’m coming.”
Egelina-Marie looked at the young, determined Yellow Hood and thought about it. She knew if she tried to send him home by himself, he could run into soldiers or worse. She also knew that Richy’s tracking skills might make all the difference in finding Bakon—and the sooner they went after him, the fresher the trail would be. Yet, if they didn’t head back, no one would know where they’d have went.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Knock, Knock
Christina stopped her pacing and checked her armband, again. “They’re five hours late, and counting,” she said, yawning. They’d already ventured to the kitchen, taken naps, woken up, and started all over again.
Christina and Mounira had been tempted to take everyone down to the hidden lab just for something to do, but they thought that might be a bad idea. There was no question of being able to trust Tee and Elly with the secret, but they weren’t yet completely sure about Franklin.
Franklin was asleep on the floor with a book over his face. Mounira was reading on the couch. Tee and Elly, meanwhile, were playing cards on the floor by the fireplace.
“Are they ever late like this?” Christina asked again, to no one in particular.
Tee looked up, her face still heavy with the burden of having lost Pierre, and feeling responsible for it. She kept telling herself that her grandfather would be fine, at least for a while. “Christina, I know you’re worried. We’re worried too. Like I said earlier, the Cochon brothers can be late, but Egelina-Marie never seems to be. But I’m thinking more and more that something bad happened.”
“I’m starting to think that’s the only possibility,” said Christina, looking into the crackling fire.
“What will we do when they get here?” asked Elly, too tired to remember the earlier discussion. Like Tee, she was still distracted by Pierre’s death and Nikolas’ abduction.
“Once they’re here, we’ll make our way to Tee’s parents and bring them up to speed.”
“If my parents are back,” added Tee. “Given that they weren’t there when we passed by, I have a feeling they aren’t going to be back until tomorrow. It might be like… a big date night.” She shuddered.
“Eww,” said Elly.
“I know!” said Tee.
Christina continued to reiterate the plan, to kill time. “After they arrive, we’ll split into two groups—one group going north to get the plans that Franklin—”
“We know,” interrupted Elly. “The plans he hid under a bed in Herve. The other group will start figuring out where Marcus Pieman might have taken Nikolas.”
“Someone’s been listening,” said Mounira, from behind a huge book.
“What is it, Mounira?” asked Christina, pushing down the book and revealing the worried little face behind it. “You’ve had that look since we got here. Whenever I talk about the plan, it seems to get worse.”
Mounira hesitated. She wanted to say it was nothing, but she couldn’t, this time. “The soldiers that showed up earlier today—the ones that came after the Red Hoods ran away—I’ve seen that before. My father and I saw it happen in the second town we had fled to. Ever since we came back here, today, I’ve been afraid the war that infected my homeland would spread right to our door.” She pulled her book back up.
Elly went over, placed her arms arou
nd Mounira, and gave her a squeeze. “You’re our little sister now,” said Elly, “and we’re not going to let anything happen to you. Not even, say, let you be dragged, screaming, up a mountain by a wooden bar.” Elly smiled.
Mounira laughed and then tried to glare at Elly. “That wasn’t very funny.”
“Actually, it was hilarious,” said Elly. “But it won’t happen again… soon. I promise.”
“Yeah—she’ll do something else,” said Tee, laughing.
“Hey!” Elly objected.
“Don’t worry, Elly. I’m already plotting my revenge,” said Mounira.
Elly smiled and nodded. “Good—glad to hear it.”
Just then came a loud banging at the front door, and some yelling. Everyone froze.
Christina’s heart sank. She’d heard that kind of banging before—it was never good. “Mounira, wake Franklin. Tee, go and peek at who it is. Elly, you back her up. Do not engage. Peek, and return. Got it?” she whispered.
The duo nodded, pulled down their hoods, and slinked off.
Christina turned to Mounira and Franklin. “Gather every trace of us up,” she said, marching over to get the first of the green-covered books holding a metal rod for opening the hidden lab.
A minute later, Tee and Elly returned. More banging and yelling came from the door.
“Who are they?” asked Christina, worried.
“Soldiers,” said Tee nervously. “Lots.”
Mounira grabbed Christina’s hand and squeezed.
“We’re going to be okay,” said Christina nervously, turning the spine of the second book and catching the metal rod that slid out. She hoped the new plan she was formulating would work—their lives depended upon it.
CHAPTER FORTY
Second Chance
Jerome ran into his apartment and slammed the heavy oak door behind him, leaning back against it to catch his breath. He’d just run several blocks, and up three flights of stairs, in a panic. He wondered if his father or grandfather had ever stood where he was, now, worried like this. The apartment, and the Deuxième Chance café, had both been in the family for generations, yet he was sure they’d never witnessed anything like he had.