The World Between Blinks

by Ryan Graudin

  “Where is everybody?” Jake wondered.

  “Out looking for us.” There were two cars in the driveway, and a light shining through the kitchen window. “We’ve been missing for three days!”

  “Oh, yeah. . . .”

  Neither cousin moved. Marisol kept staring at the house—realizing just how many shingles peeled off at the gable. It did need a lot of work. She hadn’t seen it before.

  The constellations above made shapes she recognized. Treasure chest jewels: twinkling and twinkling. “I wonder where Hazel and Christopher ended up.”

  “France, maybe?”

  “I hope they’re together.”

  “Me too.”

  “I already miss Oz.”

  “Me too.” Jake’s face looked softer in the moonlight. And . . . was that a tear shining by his eyelash? Marisol reached out and grabbed her primo’s hand again.

  “What are we going to tell our family?” she asked.

  “The truth, I guess.”

  “Sorry, we got sucked into a world where everything lost ends up and we couldn’t get back until we tracked down an evil villain who turned out not to be very evil at all but our great-uncle Christopher Creaturo, although we wouldn’t have caught him without the help of our new best friend Amelia Earhart and a Tasmanian tiger named Oz.” Marisol paused for a breath. “Also, did you know that T-rexes hate the smell of peppermint?”

  Really? the cicadas chirped back.

  Jake couldn’t help but grin. “Maybe not the whole truth. We’ll tell them our boat got swept away and we were trapped inside the lighthouse. Which is technically what happened.”

  “I’ll let you do the talking,” Marisol decided. “Are you ready?”

  Another light had switched on inside. And another, on the back porch.

  “I think so.” He swallowed. “You?”

  “Whatever’s waiting for us in there can’t be any scarier than a megalodon. Or cannibal rats. Or a Titanoboa. Or Red Bun. Or the Administrator.”

  In fact, it was Victor who stepped out onto the porch. The floodlights slanted so his hair looked like kraken tentacles. He paused at the top step, trying to decide whether or not he was imagining the figures at the end of the dock.

  “Mari? Jake?” Blink, blink. “Mari! Jake!” He came hurtling down the steps to throw his arms around Marisol, lifting her clean off her feet. She squeaked a protest, then went silent as he squished all the air out of her, his arms a warm, strong band around her body. “We were so scared, we . . .”

  But then Victor seemed to remember that he was too mature for hugs like this, and he set her down on her feet, clearing his throat.

  “We’re back,” Jake supplied helpfully, pushing his hands deep into his pockets.

  “You two are in sooooo much trouble,” Victor said, then tipped his head back to raise his voice to a shout. “Moooooom!!! I found them!!!”

  More lights flicked on. The creaky old beach house announced every relative’s footstep. Marisol heard their names shouted and sobbed. The twins—Veronica and Angeline—even put away their “eye phones” to join in. As the rest of the stampede descended, she hugged her grumbling brother one more time. Tighter than tight.

  It was good to be home.

  18

  Jake

  JAKE SPENT THE WEEK MAKING NEW MEMORIES.

  He’d raced along the beach with his cousins, feeling the sand that was just sand stick between his toes, and plunged into the salty waves, thankful that he didn’t have to worry about mega sharks. They’d played tag up and down the shore, dug networks of giant holes, and Jake had tried to teach the family how to play cricket, which he’d learned in Australia, though nobody—even Jake—really understood the rules.

  Things were almost returning to normal.

  Almost.

  Their first night back had been a long one. He and Marisol stumbled through an explanation for their parents about getting stranded out at the Morris Island Light. About hitching a lift back from a pair of mysterious kayakers. About living off the picnic they’d taken with them. It wasn’t a very good story, even the second time around when they’d repeated it to officers with bright badges and coffee breath. Marisol turned roja in both cheeks. Jake kept waiting for the police to crumple up their notepads, to tell him to tell the truth.

  But the Unknown wasn’t done with the Beruna cousins yet.

  At least, that’s what it felt like, when the authorities left and their parents finally tucked them into bed. Jake wondered if maybe, somehow, shreds of magic had followed them back from the World Between Blinks, a little lostness that attached to their family, washing away the memory of how worried they’d been. It was less than a day before nobody spoke of their absence at all.

  The only signs that Jake and Marisol had disappeared were their necklaces. All of the charms’ charm was gone. The magnifying glasses showed nothing new, scrolls stayed scrolls, and their hourglasses obeyed the normal laws of gravity, no matter how many times the cousins snuck away to test them. Up and down, up and down. They turned the timers in Nana’s attic, summoning the World with whispers.

  “I wonder what Oz is doing right now.”

  “Eating. Or flying with Amelia,” Marisol guessed. “Or both. I wonder what happened at Nefertiti’s court when the Amber Room reappeared. . . .”

  They wondered and wondered and wondered. Most of the imagining was fun, but every time Jake saw a marking on one of Nana’s maps, he couldn’t help worrying about Christopher. Had Hazel and their great-uncle made it back safely? If so, why hadn’t they texted? Or telegraphed?

  Or . . . something.

  But then, one afternoon, Jake made his way up from the beach, Marisol at his side, his cousins Victor, Veronica, and Angeline trying their best to avoid burrs. As the five of them paused in the front yard to hose the sand off their bare feet, Victor squinted up at the porch.

  “Hey, who’s that?” he said.

  There were two extra adults sitting with their parents—a man and a woman. They had their backs to the children, and they wore sunhats that hid even their hair. Jake couldn’t see their faces, but a tiny thrill of hope shot through him, and his heart threw in an extra beat.

  Marisol looked electric too. “Jake, do you think . . . ?”

  “Maybe,” he said quickly.

  She grinned, salt-static hair flying everywhere as she seized Jake’s hand and dragged him up the porch steps.

  “Oh, there you are!” his mom greeted them with a smile. “We have visitors.”

  And then the visitors turned around.

  Oblivious to the way Jake and Marisol froze in the screen door, the other cousins piling up in behind them, his mother continued. “Children, this is Christopher and Hazel Creaturo. Christopher is our . . .”

  “Second cousin, I believe,” Christopher supplied. “Three times removed. Or maybe four.” He looked exactly as he had in the World Between Blinks, except that he wasn’t wearing white anymore. Now, he was clad in a pair of jeans and a green shirt.

  Aunt Cara’s smile was identical to Mom’s. “Can you believe they found us on one of those genealogy websites? You know, the ones where you send in a sample, and they tell you what countries you’re from, and match you up with other people who are related to you. Who knew Nana had even done that? But it would’ve been just like her to try something new.”

  Christopher was all courtesy, paying no particular attention to Jake and Marisol. “This place was listed under ‘Beruna’ in the phone book. We just thought we’d drop by on the off chance someone was home,” he said. “We’re driving down the East Coast for our honeymoon.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Hazel’s lipstick was a different color—more coral than red—which made her look like a stranger when she smiled at the cousins.

  In fact, there was no hint of recognition in either adult’s gaze when they met Jake’s eyes and shook his hand. Had there been a problem with the hourglasses? Had the Unknown stolen their World Between Blinks memorie
s? Had they forgotten who Jake and Marisol were?

  Jake’s thoughts chased each other in a worried circle, but they were interrupted when Uncle Todd stuck his head out the door from the house. “Pierre and I are making shrimp and grits for lunch! It’ll be ready in fifteen. Can some of you kids please set the table?”

  Jake was about to burst with questions, so he spoke up quickly, before anyone could volunteer him to wrangle napkins and cups of juice. “If there’s a few minutes left, maybe Christopher and Hazel would like to see the beach,” he offered, using his best We Have Company voice. The one Mom liked him to use when they were at fancy foreign embassy receptions.

  He was rewarded with a smile. “That’s very polite of you, Jake,” she said. “Why don’t you take them down, just quickly?”

  “I’ll come too,” Marisol piped up, still holding tight to Jake’s hand—and he was still holding tight to hers.

  And so, his stomach full of butterflies that were doing acrobatics to rival anything Amelia could pull off, Jake and his cousin led their visitors across the street, onto a path lined with palm fronds and vines. Green swallowed them.

  The moment they could no longer see the house, Christopher let out a whoop and grabbed Jake’s hands, pulling him free of Marisol to spin him in a circle. Hazel threw her arms around Marisol, lifting her clean off her feet.

  “We did it!” crowed Christopher. “We all made it!”

  “You . . .” Jake stumbled, staring up at his great-uncle. “You remember us?”

  “Of course!” said Hazel. “We’ve been dying to be sure you made it back as well. We’re sorry it took us a whole week to get here. Christopher left bank accounts set up for when we returned, but it took a little while to access the funds and get emergency passports. Then we had to learn how to book flights on the World Wide Web using little plastic cards instead of money. My, but things have changed!”

  “The old house hasn’t, though.” Christopher gazed back in the direction of their family, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

  Marisol was grinning too, giddy with happiness, and Jake felt like he’d put down a weight he hadn’t known he was carrying.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Marisol said. “It was beginning to all feel . . .”

  “. . . like we’d imagined it,” Jake finished when she trailed off. “Though we knew we didn’t.”

  “If we have our way, you’ll be seeing a lot more of us,” Christopher replied. “Your parents were just telling us that they’re not sure they can keep Lucy’s house, what with the cost of repairs. Especially since they only visit once or twice a year.”

  The weight started to settle back onto Jake’s shoulders, pressing them down and winding his muscles taut. But then he realized Hazel was beaming—pink lips smiling under her retro sunhat.

  “The repairs will be expensive,” she said. “But it just so happens, we have a lot of money. Those bank accounts have been growing since the 1940s. We’ve been telling the grown ups how excited we are to discover relatives, since Christopher hasn’t got any other family. Well, except me, now.”

  Jake and Marisol waited, their breath balanced on a knife’s edge of hope as the newlyweds exchanged a warm glance. Christopher’s dimples showed as he continued.

  “We’ll wait another few days, and then we’ll suggest that perhaps we could buy the house—and keep it as a summer meeting place for the whole family, of course.”

  “We’ll always be waiting here for you,” Hazel said.

  “¿En serio?” gasped Marisol. “Are you serious?”

  “Very.” Their great-uncle nodded, taking Hazel’s hand in his. “There’s nothing we’d love more.”

  Jake swallowed hard. He’d finally learned not to leave everything behind, but with the heaviness of knowing this might be their last summer here, he’d been wondering if it was a lesson he’d been smart to learn. And he knew Marisol had willingly sacrificed the Great Mogul Diamond to get them all home, but that she’d been secretly aching over the coming end of their time at the beach house. He’d seen her whispering to the map-covered walls when she thought nobody was looking.

  Sometimes you hold on to things.

  Sometimes you lose them.

  And sometimes, just sometimes, you had to let go of something so you could find it again.

  Jake studied Christopher’s and Hazel’s knotted fingers, testing this new idea. “So . . . we’ll see you next summer?”

  “That you will,” Christopher said. “Hopefully it’ll be a quieter vacation than this one has been.”

  They walked until they reached the end of the path, and stood on the beach together, staring out at the Morris Island Light, where it had all begun. Where they’d slipped through to the World and begun their wild quest to find their way home.

  “Maybe next time will be a quieter vacation,” agreed Jake, though he had the funniest feeling. . . .

  He blinked, then blinked again, and for an instant in between, he thought he saw land stretching out to the Light, a house with an old car for a chicken coop sitting beside it. But of course, with that second blink, it was gone.

  At least for now.

  THE WORLD BETWEEN BLINKS IS ALWAYS THERE.

  It is everywhere and it is nowhere.

  But most children—the ones who can see—glimpse it at the end of a very good book. They turn to the final page, they read those six solid letters, they study the blank page beyond. There, in the white without words, the story keeps going, sailing across oceans and trekking through jungles and bargaining with queens, strong enough to appear in dreams. Strong enough to let you imagine what was. What could be . . .

  THE END

  Or is it?

  Safe travels, dear reader.

  Curators’ Files

  Dear Reader!

  Here are some catalog entries on just a few of the things you’ll find in the World Between Blinks. But you’ll note that in these pages many more have been mentioned. . . . Perhaps you might like to write a catalog entry or two of your own? There’s always more work to do!

  CHAPTER TWO

  Name: Morris Island Light

  Entry into WBB: Ongoing

  Notes: While the Morris Island Light itself has only partially entered the World Between Blinks, stubbornly splitting itself between two places at once, its surroundings have appeared here. Due to intense coastal erosion back in the old world, this includes the land upon which the lighthouse used to stand, its keeper’s cottage, and even a Model T Ford motor car, which serves as a chicken coop. Note, the chicken will peck, approach with caution!

  CHAPTER THREE

  Name: Theodosia Burr Alston

  Entry into WBB: January 3, 1813

  Notes: She is the daughter of US vice president Aaron Burr (who also happens to be the villain of a popular Broadway musical). She arrived here aboard the Patriot, which never did reach New York City—its original destination. History considers Theodosia lost with the schooner’s crew, but really they’re sailing around the World Between Blinks on a mission to find foundlings.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Name: Pterodactylus

  Entry into WBB: 136 million years ago. Give or take.

  Notes: Not a dinosaur. Do not misclassify. Pterosaurs flew Earth’s skies during the Valanginian age, long before there were humans to see them. Current relations remain tenuous: KEEP OUT OF RESIDENTIAL ZONES.

  Name: The Crystal Palace

  Entry into WBB: November 30, 1936

  Notes: Built in London to house the Great Exhibition of 1851, this all-glass building was the first of its kind. Trees grew beneath its translucent ceilings. When it mysteriously caught fire, a hundred thousand people gathered to watch it burn. Among them? Future Prime Minister Winston Churchill, who declared, “This is the end of an age.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Name: St. Helena Olive

  Entry into WBB: December 2003

  Notes: Native to the tropical island of St. Helena in the South Atlantic Ocean. Despi
te the tree’s name, it has no relation to the true olive, and alas, no olives.

  Name: Aral Sea

  Entry into WBB: Ongoing (1960s–Present)

  Notes: With 26,300 square miles of water, the Aral Sea was once the fourth-largest lake on Earth. (Confusing, we know. Earth’s record keepers need labeling lessons!) Over 90 percent of that is now in the World Between Blinks. The rest remains between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan.

  Name: The Loch Ness Monster (aka Nessie)

  Entry into WBB: December 10, 1944

  Notes: Quasi-mythical. Can something be lost if it’s never found? Legends about the Loch Ness Monster have existed since AD 565, when Saint Columba reportedly ordered a great water beast not to attack a man swimming across the River Ness. There have been hundreds of unconfirmed monster sightings since, and some think that Nessie could be a plesiosaur. They are wrong. Not a dinosaur. Do not misclassify.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Name: Ostia Antica

  Entry into WBB: Extended (AD 476—ninth century)

  Notes: Ostia Antica served as Rome’s main port in AD 100, receiving shipments from as far away as Alexandria, Egypt. After the Roman Empire fell, this bustling city faded away due to repeated pirate sackings (the scalawags!) and the silting of the Tiber River. If visiting, keep an eye out for the many excellent statues of wrestlers, the celebrities of their day!

  Name: George Washington’s Dentures (Top Half)

  Entry into WBB: July 19, 1981

  Notes: The first president of the United States of America wore false teeth, which were made of everything from ivory to gold to other people’s pearly whites. The dentures were—presumably—stolen from the National Museum of American History. Half of them made their way back. The other half? Here.

  Name: Amelia “Meeley” Mary Earhart

  Entry into WBB: July 2, 1937

  Notes: In 1932, Amelia became the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean, which made her the most famous aviator on Earth. She loved nicknaming her airplanes: the Canary, the Little Red Bus, and finally, the Flying Laboratory, which she tried circling the globe with. This Lockheed Electra 10-E plane flew her from Miami to New Guinea but took a detour over the Pacific Ocean. Instead of landing on Howland Island, as planned, Amelia and her navigator, Fred Noonan, appeared in the World Between Blinks, where she currently runs a taxi service.