The Magic Half

by Annie Barrows

  Miri stiffened at the sound of Horst’s growl. “She’s locked up tight. Got the key right here in my pocket,” he said proudly. In spite of him and his key, Miri was flooded with relief. Molly was safe and inside the house. The very worst thing hadn’t happened. A band of fear that had been pressing on her heart fell away. But, she reminded herself, that means it’s all up to me now. A new band of fear began to circle around her stomach.

  “Why’s it always cold in here?” Horst muttered. “Steaming hot everwhere else.”

  “Shhh,” whispered his mother. “You know how she is.”

  “Aw, don’t go on about that. Full of baloney. You getting anywhere with her?”

  “Can’t tell. She don’t even move. Not even her eyes.”

  Horst grunted. “Old biddy’s lost her marbles,” he mumbled.

  “Hush your mouth,” snapped Flo.

  “All right, all right. But I’m hungry, Ma. Hard work, catching that kid. And she caught it, too.” He snorted with pleasure.

  I hate you, Horst, thought Miri.

  Flo sighed. “All right. I guess I said everything I had to say.” She raised her voice into a sweet singsong. “Well, Mama. I hope you heard me. You just rest. I’ll be back with your dinner in a bit.” Heavy feet and sharp heels moved away. A door closed.

  Miri counted to sixty. Then she counted to sixty again. When she poked her head out from under the ruffle, the bright sunlight made her eyes water, but a curlicue of fresh air ruffled through her hair. The room was very quiet. No place is this quiet in the twenty-first century, thought Miri.

  Awkwardly, pulling the CD player behind her, she rose to her feet and turned toward the bed. She didn’t know what she expected, but what she saw was not it. A pair of the brightest blue eyes she had ever encountered snapped and sparkled at her. They were not the eyes of a sick old lady. They were bright and laughing—and they knew her. She knows who I am, thought Miri in astonishment. “Hi,” she whispered.

  The old lady nodded but said nothing.

  “I’m here for Molly.” Miri had the strangest feeling, light and bubbly. It was almost like the feeling she had when she was pulled through the glasses to another time, minus the sickening feeling. Everything around her shimmered and trembled, except for the old woman on the bed, who seemed, despite her bent shoulders and papery skin, to be as solid as forever. She was magic, Miri knew. The room seemed to spin a bit. Secured by those brilliant blue eyes, Miri took a breath, and the room seemed to still. “I’m here for Molly,” she repeated in a croak.

  Wordlessly, the old woman smiled and pointed to the door. Go.

  “Okay,” said Miri. She wanted Grandma May to reassure her, to tell her that her plan was a good one. “I figured it out, I think,” she whispered. “I can’t take Molly home right away, can I? We’ve got to make Horst run away, and then we’ve got to get one lens in the barn and the other stuck to the wall so I can find them in my time. Right?”

  The bright eyes sparkled at her.

  “Right. Okay.” Miri was half talking to herself now. “He’s locked the door to her room, so I’ll have to go through the attic. Which means I’ve got to start in my brothers’ room. Right?”

  Still Grandma May said nothing.

  “Whose room is it in 1935? I know it’s not Sissy’s.” An alarming thought struck her. “It’s not Horst’s, is it?” She looked at the old lady, who smiled. “Well, even if it is, I’ll just deal with it. Right?”

  Grandma May pointed to the door.

  “Right,” Miri answered herself.

  Stepping out of the cool bedroom, she paused. The hallway was stifling, and for a moment she stood frozen. Which time am I in? A sudden bellow released her. “Sis! Dinner!”

  Miri flattened herself against the wall as Sissy swished down the stairs. Chairs scraped against the floor, followed by the rattle of silverware. This was good news—Horst would be busy stuffing himself for a while. Miri slithered around the newel post and up the stairs. Past Sissy’s room, and on to her brothers’ room. It was Horst’s—a pair of giant work boots next to the bed told her that—but it wasn’t what she thought Horst’s room would be like. Horst was a lot neater than her brothers. His dresser was bare except for one comb and one brush, perfectly straight. The bedspread didn’t have even a single wrinkle. Miri thought it was kind of eerie.

  Also unlike her brothers, Horst had a door on his closet, and it was shut. Cautiously, Miri tiptoed across the silent room and opened the door without a sound. Inside, she saw that the closet was just as clean as the room, with every shirt hanging neatly. Only the ladder looked familiar, reaching up to the attic door. Everything was still; everything was about to happen. Miri felt prickles of panic dancing down her spine. Hurry. It wasn’t easy to climb a ladder while holding a CD player, but Miri did it in about five seconds. With shaking hands, she shoved open the door to the attic, slung the CD player inside, and hoisted herself after it.

  And there was Molly, standing like a statue in the slatted light.

  For one single, stunned second, they stared in silence, and then they both started talking at once: “Where’d you go?” Molly babbled, her hands skittering wildly through the air in front of her. “I waited and waited—and Horst was in the barn, so it took forever—but then when I finally got out there—”

  “I went back by mistake.” The words came tumbling out. “I put on my glasses. I had them in my pocket, but I forgot them, and then when I saw Horst—he has this box, and you’re right, he’s a thief—and—”

  They both broke off and smiled at each other.

  “Boy, am I glad to see you,” said Miri. “I was really worried.”

  “Tell me everything,” said Molly. “Slow, this time.” Miri explained. About Horst and the barn and her broken glasses and seeing him hide stuff and being taken back to her own time and searching for

  Molly’s glasses and getting her own pair and finding Horst’s box and coming back under Grandma May’s bed. When she finally stopped talking, she noticed that Molly’s gray eyes were filled with tears.

  “You’re going to take me home with you?”

  “Yeah, of course,” said Miri. “That’s how come it took me so long to come back—I had to get new glasses so we can use them to go home. Mine got totally wrecked when I went back last time, and I didn’t think they would work.”

  Molly said slowly, “I thought you didn’t want to run away with me. I thought that’s why you left.”

  “No. I left by mistake,” Miri said again. “I didn’t know my glasses would take me home. I just put ’em on to see what Horst was up to. And then—boom— I was home.”

  “And you came back.” Molly sounded as if she didn’t believe it. “You came back to get me?”

  “Yeah.”

  Molly was silent for a moment. And then she smiled, a dazzling, all-the-lights-on smile. “Oh boy! Isn’t that what you always say?”

  “Yup.”

  They grinned at each other.

  Then Miri said, “I heard Horst say he caught you running away.”

  Molly made a face. “Yeah, he caught me. Look.” She pulled up the short sleeve of her dress, and Miri saw five fat bruises on her arm.

  “I hate that guy,” said Miri. “I really, really hate him.”

  “Me too,” said Molly. “I was hiding in the woods, and he found me and drug me back here and locked me in my room. I fought, but he’s a lot bigger than I am, and I was scared to get him too mad. I was just fixing to run away again, now they’re at dinner. That’s why I came in here.” She smiled. “But I guess I won’t bother.”

  “I heard your aunt say she was going to take you to some home. She was trying to tell your grandma that you were a thief or something and that your grandma shouldn’t leave you anything in her will.”

  “You heard that?” Molly’s eyes blazed. “All they care about is money! Grandma May didn’t say anything, did she?”

  “No. Nothing. Can she talk?” asked Miri curiously.

  Aft
er a moment, Molly said, “She ain’t talked in a while.”

  Miri saw the shadows on Molly’s face and changed the subject. “I’ve got to say, your grandma looks like a fairy,” she began. “I didn’t really believe you before, but when I saw her, I could see what you meant. She looked at me like she knew me.”

  “She is a fairy,” Molly said firmly. “They pretend they don’t believe in it, but they know it’s true. Back when she could talk, they were sweet as pie to her, ’cause they were afraid she’d do something to them. You should have seen Horst, acting like Sunday school whenever she was nearby. Almost killed him.” She paused. “Wish it had.”

  Once again, there was the sound of chairs on the floor in the dining room below.

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Miri nervously. “We’re right above Horst’s room.”

  Without a word, Molly lifted the flap that led to the secret bench in her closet. She beckoned to Miri, who followed. They tiptoed from the closet into Molly’s room.

  “My mom is putting up wallpaper just like this right now,” whispered Miri, looking at the pink-flowered walls.

  “Your mom is?” Molly looked at her shyly. “What’s she like?”

  “My mom?” Miri paused. It was hard to say what her mom was like. “She has brown hair and brown eyes. She teaches English at Thomason College. She’s—she’s—” Miri had never thought about what her mother was like before. “She says funny things. Or maybe she just says regular things in a funny way. She makes French toast for breakfast. She likes old movies.” Miri realized as she said it that they wouldn’t be old movies to Molly. “You guys will love each other.”

  “We will?” Molly still looked shy. “Tell me about the rest of them. Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” Strange—usually it was the first thing anyone knew about her. “We’re a one-in-eight-million family because we have two sets of twins. There are my older brothers—Ray and Robbie—they’re twelve and totally annoying, but also funny sometimes. And there are my little sisters, Nell and Nora, who are pretty cute but do a lot of bad things like eating ice cream for breakfast and making paste in the bathtub. They’re four. And then there’s my dad, who goes around lecturing about geothermal energy, which I sort of understand, but not really. He likes math and science and stuff.”

  “Ray and Robbie. Nell and Nora,” repeated Molly. “Molly and Miri.”

  Hey. Miri had never thought of that.

  They heard Sissy’s voice in the hallway below. “. . . over to Lottie’s, but I can’t find my gloves.”

  “Well, get a move on and I’ll drive you over there. I got to get out to Beeton’s this afternoon. She says the whole flock are sickening from the heat, but I reckon she ain’t . . .” Flo’s voice faded as she moved away down the hall.

  “Just let me find my gloves,” Sissy said irritably.

  “Don’t know why you gotta wear gloves over to Lottie’s. Y’all playing Mrs. Roosevelt?” It was Horst’s voice.

  “Oh Horst, shut up.” Sissy’s voice was muffled. “It’s a tea party. You got to wear gloves to a tea party.”

  “Ooh, a tea party,” Horst snickered. “Bunch of snot-nose girls. Would you care for a biscuit?”

  Flo said, “And what’re you doing this afternoon, son?”

  “Watching the prisoner.” Horst slapped his chest in a satisfied way.

  “You could go sit with Mama. She might appreciate your company.”

  “Pah!” Horst snorted. “She don’t care who’s there. She don’t even know.”

  “And besides,” said Sissy sweetly, “Horst’s scared of her.”

  “I ain’t! Shut up your mouth!”

  “Don’t you lay a finger on me! Ma!” Sissy squealed.

  “All right, stop it now! Horst, leave your sister alone. You got your gloves, girl? Let’s get a move on. I want to get back by five.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to walk home in the dust.” Sissy sniffed.

  “Cow,” said Horst.

  “Shut up, Horst.” The noise of clattering heels faded as they walked away. There was a silence.

  “You hungry in there, runt?” Horst called up the stairs.

  Miri froze.

  “No!” Molly called back.

  “You’re lying!”

  Molly said nothing.

  “Answer me!” he demanded.

  Molly said nothing.

  “Answer me or I’ll come make you!” he shouted. Miri and Molly heard his heavy feet on the narrow stairs and looked at each other in horror.

  “All right—I am hungry,” said Molly quickly. “I’m awful hungry.”

  They could hear his heavy breath outside the door. “Bet you’d like some pie, huh?” he said in a low voice. “Had some of that peach pie for dinner, and it sure was tasty.”

  Molly’s hand reached out to clutch Miri’s tightly, and they both stared at the door. Two inches of wood, thought Miri. The only thing standing between us and total disaster. She watched Molly take a little gulp of air and say, “Oh, Horst, can I have a piece?” Her voice was thin and sad. “Just a little piece?”

  Miri closed her eyes and silently commanded him to go away. Go to the kitchen, she thought. Go anywhere but here.

  “Din’t hear you say please,” he said softly. They heard his hand on the doorknob.

  Please don’t come in, prayed Miri.

  “Please, Horst,” Molly begged pathetically. “Please, will you go get me some pie?”

  “Please, Horst,” he repeated mockingly. “That’s begging, runt, and you know what they say— beggars can’t be choosers. You don’t get no pie, girl, not after all the trouble you caused. Fact is, I oughta give you a whaling just for asking. But now you made me hungry. So I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do instead,” he guffawed. “I’m gonna go cut myself a nice big piece of pie. And then I’m gonna sit myself down and eat it. It’s gonna taste fine. And then, if I ain’t too tired after that, I’m going to go out in the yard and cut me a switch off of one of them apple trees. And then I’ll pay you a little visit. How’s that for a plan, runt?”

  Molly’s knuckles were white. She tightened her jaw and said nothing.

  “Mm-mm, that pie is gonna taste good!” Horst crowed. He gave one of his pig snorts and lumbered down the narrow stairs.

  There was a pause, and then both girls let out a long breath.

  Miri saw tears glistening in Molly’s eyes, and suddenly her heart was pounding, not with fear but with rage. Wave after wave of fury flowed over her, until she was tingling with it. “He’s a ratface, pigbag creep,” she whispered fiercely to Molly. “We’ll get him.”

  Molly shook her head.

  “Yes, we will,” insisted Miri. “We have to anyway.” Molly brushed roughly at her cheeks. “What do you mean? I thought we were going to your time.”

  Miri patted the glasses case inside her shirt and thought longingly of home. “Not yet,” she said. “There’s a couple of things we have to do first.” She explained about putting the first lens back on the baseboard in their room and the second back in the barn. Then she told Molly what she had learned from old Mr. Guest, describing Horst’s final appearance in the drugstore, shaking and terrified. “I was scared,” she confessed. “I was scared that he’d hurt you—or something—and that’s why he ran away.”

  Molly looked confused. “But—wait—if that’s the way he tells it, isn’t that the way it has to happen?”

  “No.” Miri leaned forward. “No. That’s the thing. We can change what happens. We are changing it. But we still want Horst to run away, because if he just hangs around here for the next seventy years, he’ll probably take the glasses out of his box in the barn, and then they won’t be there for me to find in my time. And if I don’t find your glasses, then I can’t be here now. See what I mean?” She looked anxiously at Molly.

  “Sort of,” said Molly slowly. “It makes my head hurt. You want Horst to run away. But not because he”—she took a breath—“kills
me.”

  “Right!” Miri nodded.

  Molly gave a little shiver. “Okay. That makes two of us. I don’t want him to kill me either. But I don’t see how you’re going to make him run away. You got a plan?”

  “Sure I’ve got a plan,” Miri said. She reached under her shirt and pulled Ray’s zombie mask out of her waistband. “My plan is to scare the heck out of him.”

  Molly looked at the limp mask and her eyes began to glow. “Oh yes,” she whispered. “Oh yes. I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.”

  CHAPTER

  14

  HORST BAINS LIKED a quiet house. Nothing suited him better than a long afternoon without his mama nagging him about chores or Sissy sashaying about. Yessir, a man’s home was his castle when all the loudmouth womenfolk left it. Course, there was the runt, but she was in the jug. And tomorrow, she’d be gone forever! He chuckled to himself, his sides shaking like pudding. Got her out of my hair, he thought, and brushed a microscopic bit of dust off his bedspread. Suddenly he remembered that he had promised her a good switching. The pie had taken it right out of his mind. Should he go out to the orchard and cut himself a branch? Naw—too hot. He’d do it later. It would be something to look forward to.

  Horst yawned. He could go look for Gran’s will. It was down in her room somewhere, he knew that. He could just go right in and root around for it. She wouldn’t be able to say a word. She weren’t never going to talk again—anyone could see that. Horst pictured those bright eyes resting on him, and he cracked his neck abruptly. Naw—he was too tired. He’d let Mama do it. She shoulda done it already, but she didn’t want to upset the old bat. Mama was surely stupid sometimes. He reached out to straighten the comb and brush on his dresser. There. That was better.

  • • •

  Upstairs, Miri’s hands were sweating. Why had she thought this would work? She had never scared anyone in her life. She stared miserably at Molly, who seemed, on the other hand, to have complete confidence in their success.

  “Now,” Molly was saying briskly. “What are you going to wear?”