by Kim Thompson
“Nonsense!” Belle rubbed her hands gleefully. “It’s lovely! Let’s go out for a closer look!”
Willa found an umbrella and wheeled Belle outside. They stared down at the water, their reflections scattered by raindrops. Strands of algae floated on the surface and streaked the sides of the pool.
Willa made a face. “There’s all kinds of goo growing in there.”
“It’s not that bad. You’ll see when we swim in it.”
“Ew! No way.”
“You’ll see.”
“No, I won’t. I’m not going in, ever, because I don’t swim!” Willa explained, but Belle wasn’t listening. Willa stared glumly at the pool. “That’s where the time holes went, you know.”
Willa could see silver at the bottom of the pool. She found a stick and pushed aside the muck on the surface, leaning down for a better look.
“They’re still there,” said Willa.
“What?”
“The time holes,” replied Willa. “Horace said they usually disappear, but these ones haven’t yet.”
“Ooh!” Belle was growing more and more interested. “Time holes, eh? Pop through one of those and you could end up anywhere, any time….”
“Any time,” said Willa thoughtfully. “Horace says this pool is a wrinkle in time.”
“That’s very likely. Remember the dinosaur?”
Willa nodded. In the summer, when they’d first discovered the pool hidden in the bushes and weeds, they’d also found a dinosaur and named her Dinah. She’d been hibernating in the pool for goodness knows how long. They took her to the ocean, and she was now swimming free somewhere, but they’d never figured out how she’d come to be curled up in a small backyard pool.
Willa stared down at the bubbles, fascinated. “Look there, see the smaller one? I think there’s a teeny plant growing out of it.” She looked up, but Belle was wheeling herself back to the house.
That night Willa dreamed she was sitting in the parlour at Eldritch Manor, but everything was green, the floor, the walls, the furniture, everything, and as she sat there the room began to twist and stretch. She shouted, but her voice was lost in the deafening noise of cracking wood. The room burst upward, growing like the magic beanstalk in the fairy tale. Willa tried to run out of the room, but her feet were rooted to the floor, and she felt herself pulled and stretched, twisting and twining upward with the rest of the house, until everything fell into a confused blur and she woke up.
Chapter Ten
In which spring is sprung
“I’ll never understand why people prefer spring to winter! It’s wretched!” exclaimed Tengu the next day, balancing on one foot while he poured water out of his left boot. Willa, huddled under her umbrella, was inclined to agree. The backyard was a sodden mess of mud and leaves. Above them, dark clouds crowded the sky, and the rain poured down. Willa leaned back to look up at the house. The little attic cloud still hung above the place, white against the dark sky. The white beams for the second floor were advancing steadily; the entire storey was now sketched out in framework.
“I think the rain is helping the house grow,” said Willa. “But I still wish it would stop.”
“The house isn’t the only thing that’s growing,” muttered Tengu, joining her beside the pool. He was right. The algae had continued its spread up the sides of the pool, and where it emerged from the water, wrapping over the lip of the pool, it was growing longer and shaggier. Willa crouched down and poked it with her finger.
“It’s so thick, it’s turning into moss. Look, it’s like a sponge.” She poked it again, and water ran out. Peering through the slime, Willa could just make out the silver bubbles on the bottom of the pool.
“Still there,” she said.
“What’s still there?” Tengu asked.
“The time holes.” Willa pointed. “And see that plant growing out of the small one? It was only a tiny twig yesterday!” The green shoot now stretched to the wall of the pool and had climbed halfway up.
Willa and Tengu wandered into the trees. Everywhere they looked, new sprouts were pushing up through the dead leaves.
“Last week everything was covered with snow, and now it’s so green! How could all this happen so quickly?” marvelled Willa.
“Oberon and his bunch,” Tengu answered simply. “They’ve thrown things out of whack.”
“You can say that again.” Willa looked up at the dark sky. “I can’t even tell what time it is, it’s so dark.” She checked her watch, which said four fifteen. “Darnit. My watch has stopped. It must be nearly six. I should be getting home for supper.”
Inside the house, the clock in the hall had the same time as her watch: four fifteen. As did the parlour clock and Horace’s pocket watch.
“It can’t be four fifteen!” Willa exclaimed. She’d walked over from school, arriving just before four o’clock, and she’d sat for a cup of tea with Belle and then chatted with the dwarves a little before wandering around the yard.
Horace considered this. “The day has seemed to drag a little,” he admitted with a yawn and wandered off into the hall.
Time behaving weirdly can mean only one thing, thought Willa, moving toward the wasp nest and the bowl beneath. She stood on a stool to look inside. Tabitha wasn’t there, but Willa was glad to see a large mass of silvery scarf, so long it wound round and round the inside of the bowl, creating a cozy pillow.
“Nice!” murmured Willa. She gingerly lifted a fold of the scarf. It was exquisite. The stitches were so smooth and fine, she could barely see them. When she turned the scarf over in the light, she could see a pattern of vines and leaves running through it. She heard a small cough. Tabitha was on the floor beside the stool, staring up at her.
“Oh hello, Tabitha. I was just looking for you.”
The spider didn’t reply but scurried up the stool leg then up Willa’s leg and side. Willa held her breath. Tabitha paused on her shoulder for a moment before leaping into the bowl.
“Your work is really beautiful,” Willa said.
“Why thank you, darlin’. That means a lot to me.” Tabitha smiled.
Willa paused, unsure about how to proceed. “I think, though, that your stitches are… quite a bit smaller than Mab’s.” The spider lifted her big, buggy eyes in shock.
“Are they? Oh dear, I am so sorry! I hadn’t noticed!” Tabitha began circling the bowl anxiously. “I’ll pull it all out and start again!”
“No, no!” protested Willa. “It’s all right, it’s just that time is moving a teensy bit slower. It’s really no problem at all.”
Tabitha hung her head and sniffled. Willa felt awful. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to criticize. You do lovely work. Absolutely gorgeous.”
Tabitha answered in a quavery voice. “You are kind. I’ll try to do better, I promise. It’s just that the size of the stitches is determined by the size of the needles.” Here she held up two legs. “I will do my very best to knit a little larger.”
“Thank you, Tabitha. I really appreciate it. Sorry to interrupt!” Willa retreated and went to knock on Horace’s door. He opened it, yawning.
“Hmm? Yes?”
“Horace, I forgot to tell you. The time holes are still there, in the pool. And,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, “Tabitha is knitting with really small stitches. I think it’s making time slow down.”
“At least she isn’t dropping stitches,” he offered with a shrug and yawned again. “Oh my heavens, I need a nap. I feel like I haven’t slept in days.”
As Willa pulled on her coat, she looked out the window. Two kids were running past the house in super slow motion. A pigeon hung in the air in the middle of an excruciatingly slow wingflap, and rain drops oozed their way to the ground.
“The clocks match the time out there, which is slower than it is here,” she said to herself, her brows furrowed in consternation.
“So if I come in here for what feels like a few hours, it’s really only a few minutes out there.” She sighed. “At least that means I won’t be late for supper.”
Just then she caught sight of Jake Norton across the street on his way home. He strode along, his hair lifting and falling with each long-legged step — the slo-mo lending his movements a grace they probably wouldn’t have had in normal time. Willa watched, mesmerized, until he disappeared slowly from sight. Then her thoughts were interrupted by a sound behind her. It was Tengu, emerging from his room with a large bowl in his hand.
“Hi, Tengu.”
He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Ack! Willa, didn’t see you there.” He quickly shut the door behind him. “Just … getting a drink of water.”
Willa looked at the bowl in his hand. Tengu looked at the bowl in his hand. “Couldn’t find a glass,” he stammered.
Willa shrugged and zipped up her coat. “Well, g’night. I’m going home.” She hesitated, looking into the parlour, listening to the flick flick flick flick of Tabitha’s knitting legs. “I wish I could stay and keep an eye on everything, though I’d need eyes in the back of my head for that.”
Tengu grinned and snapped his fingers. “Leave it to me,” he said, and hurried off down the hall.
Chapter Eleven
A turn for the worse
“Mmm. The water looks so inviting.” Belle was gazing out the window at the pool again.
“You can’t be serious,” Willa replied. “It’s more gruesome every day.”
Indeed, the pool was almost full, but the water was like brown soup. Lumpy brown soup with a bubbly scum of algae covering the surface.
“Look again,” said Belle. She had an odd tone in her voice, but she sounded deadly serious, so Willa looked again.
“Well? What do you see?” prodded Belle.
“Goo and slime.”
“It doesn’t make you want to go for a swim?”
“No!” Willa shivered.
“Come here, lean closer.”
Willa did so, and Belle placed her hands on either side of Willa’s head, just behind her ears. Willa looked into her eyes.
“You know what you are, don’t you?”
Willa laughed. “What I am? I know who I am.”
Belle fixed her with a steady stare, her hands resting lightly on Willa’s head and her fingers probing her scalp. It was a weird sensation that reminded Willa of something. She pulled away, frowning.
Belle laughed. “You know you’re not entirely human.” Then Belle’s voice sounded in Willa’s head, though her mouth did not move.
You can send and receive messages with your mind, can’t you?
Surprised, Willa nodded. How did Belle know? Horace must have told her. Belle’s voice rang in her head again.
You are like me.
Uncomfortable, Willa stepped away from her. “Like you?” She gestured down to her legs. “I’m not a mermaid!”
Belle cocked her head slyly. “The tail isn’t everything, you know. I went without mine for a time.” She reached out and took Willa’s hands in her own, grinning mischievously. “There’s a little bit of mermaid in you, somewhere, and we’re going to wake it up with a little swim! You’re turning thirteen soon, right?”
“Day after tomorrow,” Willa admitted. “I nearly forgot about it, I’ve been so busy.”
“On what date?”
“April first.”
“April Fools’ Day!” exclaimed Belle gleefully. “Wonderful! Thirteen is a very significant age for mermaids. It’s high time I undertook your training, and a birthday swim is how we begin….”
“I can’t,” Willa responded.
“You’ll get over the slimy water.”
Willa tried again. “But I really can’t do it.”
“The algae feels cool and lovely on the skin, you’ll see. We’ll just ease in and—”
“BELLE!” Willa exploded.
Belle blinked in surprise. Willa took a deep breath. “It’s not because of the algae! I can’t do it because I can’t swim. At all.”
“Oh, I can teach you.”
There was a loud knock at the front door.
“Can somebody get that?” called Willa and turned back to Belle. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to learn.”
Another loud knock.
“Someone get the door!” Back to Belle. “I can’t learn. I’m … I’m …”
A final impatient knock at the front door made Willa jump. “Oh, for heaven’s sake! Can’t anybody else answer the door around here?”
Belle had turned away to gaze at the pool. Willa stomped to the front door and swung it open.
“Yes?” She froze.
An immense man covered in tattoos filled the doorway.
“Does Tengu live here?” he asked.
“Argus!” Tengu bounded past Willa and pumped the man’s hand. “How are you, you big galoot?” Barely reaching the man’s elbow, Tengu squinted up at him. “Less hair, I see. And more flab. Still working out?” He punched the man in the belly. The man didn’t move a muscle.
“Sure, when I can,” he answered. “You said you had a job for me?”
“We do,” replied Tengu. “If you don’t mind coming out of retirement for it.”
The man smiled ruefully. “Being retired is all right for a hundred years or so, but after that it gets a little boring. I need something to do.”
“Excellent,” said Tengu. “Come in! Come in!”
The big man had to duck his head to get through the doorway. Tengu led him into the parlour, and Willa followed.
“This is Willa,” announced Tengu.
The man bowed, giving Willa a view of the tattoos that covered his bald head. They were eyes, and one of them winked at her.
Willa gasped. Tengu chuckled. “Willa, meet my good friend Argus. You said you wanted someone to keep an — eye — on things, right? Well, Argus is the best man for the job. Check it out!” Tengu spun the big man around to reveal a dozen more eyes staring back at her.
“He’s got eyes in the back of his head!” exclaimed Tengu.
“Wow,” said Willa simply.
“That’s not all,” Tengu went on. “Roll up your sleeves, Argus.”
Argus sighed wearily, but he took off his raincoat and rolled up his shirtsleeves. His arms were covered in eyes, real eyes, set into the skin. Each eye was looking around independently of the others; they were all gazing in different directions.
“How many are there?” Willa asked.
“A hundred. Give or take.” Argus rolled down his sleeves and sat on the sofa. As he did so, Willa caught a glimpse of his ankles. He wasn’t wearing any socks, and above his sneakers she could see more eyes. Some were peering up at her, but others were closed.
“They’re asleep,” explained Argus. “They rest in shifts, so I’ve always got a few eyes awake and watching.”
“Twenty-four-seven!” crooned Tengu with delight. “And his hearing is fantastic too. He can hear a hummingbird spit from three blocks away! Argus can be our watchman. He’ll keep track of everything that goes on and report back to you.” Tengu gave him a friendly slap on the back, and Argus flinched.
“Did I hit an eye? Sorry, old man,” said Tengu.
Argus smiled shyly. His eyes were tired but kind, and even though he was a big man, his movements were slow and gentle. He was getting on in years, not as old as Horace, but still pretty old.
“What’s it like?” Willa asked. “Seeing with all those eyes?”
He smiled. “It’s not really like seeing. I … absorb my surroundings. It just pours in from all sides.” Then he sighed. “It’s a little tiring, truth be told.”
Willa decided she liked him. “When can you start?”
“I have already,” he answered.
“
What do you mean?”
Argus took a deep breath. “Since I arrived, a chubby lady tiptoed down the hall into the kitchen, the old gentleman in the last room there has his ear to his door and is listening to our every word,” he threw Tengu an uncertain look. “There are odd noises coming from the room Tengu came out of.…” Tengu started in surprise, shooting Willa a nervous look.
Argus went on. “I know there are fairies living here, I can tell by the fairy dust on the mantle, but they’re staying out of sight. The spider in that bowl up there took a peek and has decided she doesn’t like me. Eighteen ants have come out of a hole in the floorboards and are moving along the wall, heading for some muffin crumbs under the sofa. I can hear beetles in your walls too, the clock over the mantle has wound down, a kettle is boiling in the kitchen, and … you have a pool in the backyard?”
“Yes,” answered Willa.
“Someone just fell into it.”
Willa raced around the house, with Tengu and Argus close behind. Belle’s wheelchair sat empty at the side of the pool, and there were ripples in the dark water.
“BELLE!”
Willa ran up to the edge and stared into the murky depths. Her entire body tensed. She felt an impulse to jump in after her, but it was followed by a wave of nausea and fear. She stood rooted to the ground as Tengu and Argus joined her.
“She’s a mermaid, Willa. She’ll be okay,” said Tengu.
Willa took a breath. “Yes, of course, but… How long can she stay under?”
A white shape appeared in the depths, grew larger, and Belle’s head broke the surface, strands of green goo adorning her silver hair. She was grinning.
“Come on in, the water’s fine!”
“Omigosh! Belle!” Tengu and Argus were both covering their eyes — quite a challenge for Argus — and backing away. It was only then that Willa noticed Belle’s clothes scattered all over the ground.
“Nothing like skinny-dipping!” Belle cackled wickedly.
Tengu dragged Argus away with him. “Come on, let’s find you a room to stay in.” They broke into a run, escaping into the house.