by Andrea Engel
“All knowledge comes when you are ready to hear it,” he said matter-of-factly.
“That’s what people keep saying. I’m ready—let me hear it.”
Thelo was silent for a long moment. Too long, Sadie thought.
Sadie crossed her arms. “Fine. I’ll drop it…for now. So you were asking about my day. It was more of the usual. Go to class. Avoid Dave. Go to my next class. Avoid Dave some more. Try not to die of humiliation.” She kicked a small stone free from the dirt road. “We did a project, and no one liked my idea, so I stopped helping. Then they had the nerve to say I wasn’t being a team player. Me? Not a team player? I had an idea that was out of the box, and no one would give it a chance.”
As soon as “chance” left her lips, she transported to the edge of the treeline on the other side of the village. “Okay, great. Where did he send me now?”
She walked out from the tree cover into an open field. Many branches lay on the ground, while other branches were coming out of them at strange angles. They looked like they were covered with those fake candle flames she’d seen at the mall. They were ablaze with a deep mauve glow but not hot to the touch or burning the ground. It was a marvelous sight. She soon realized they were vines, with about eight tiny heads each. She realized they were not only alive, surprisingly, but also active.
Spectacular! They’re all talking at once, but I can’t understand what the heck they’re saying.
“Hello,” Sadie said. The group continued to talk over one another. “Hello,” she said a little louder. Still no response. “Hellooo!” she finally yelled, waving her arms.
They all turned at once to look at her. “Well, you don’t have to shout,” they replied in unison.
“Sorry. You didn’t seem to hear me. Who are you guys anyway?” asked Sadie.
“We’re the Slugs.”
“Slugs? Really?” Sadie pinched her face together as if she were smelling something foul.
“Yes, we’re the builders of Mystashan,” they said with pride, “although we haven’t built anything in quite a while. We used to build all the time when Thelo was around. Now he’s off doing so many other things, and we can’t seem to get anything done.”
Sadie relaxed her face, realizing that their name on earth had little to do with anything here. It was an experience listening to them speak the same words in many voices at the same time. Her ears rang while she adjusted to their high-pitched frequencies.
“He’s asked us to build another Atrium, grander than the last one. He has some new crystals that the Habnaws found in their tunnels. He’d like to set up a new grid, but we can’t figure out where to begin.”
“Why not? You all seem to speak together. Why can’t you build together?”
“Speaking and building are two different things. We may share the same voice, but when it comes to ideas, we each have our own opinion.”
“Oh, boy.” Sadie scratched the back of her head. This should be interesting. “You have to figure out how to work together.”
“That’s the problem. We can’t. Not without Thelo. In the past, he’d tell us exactly what he wanted, and we would do it. Without him, we talk in circles and can’t agree on anything. We don’t like anyone’s ideas. Except our own, of course.”
“Maybe I can help,” Sadie offered.
“You? How are you going to help?” They all swiveled their heads away from her and laughed derisively.
After their rudeness died down, she decided to try again. “How about you break up into groups and see if each group can come up with one idea?”
“Hmm.” They argued back and forth about this for a while, but it didn’t get them anywhere.
“Come on,” said Sadie. “It’s getting late. Can’t you give it a try?”
“Fine. We’ll try it your way, but we highly doubt it’ll work.”
As the sun began to set, their glow turned a fiery yellow. Each vine set went off to its own section of land, away from the others, their light forming a giant circle.
Sadie stood in the middle. “There’s only one rule to make this work,” she told them. “You have to vote on someone else’s idea. You can’t vote on your own.”
The vines bickered at first. Sadie roamed around, stopping to listen in at each group, reminding them of the one rule. Without being able to vote on their own idea, they were able to pick one at last. Each group held a vote, and its majority won.
It’s working.
“I need every group’s idea but not at the same time.” Sadie took a stick and made a grid in the dirt with thirty rows. When I point at your group, tell me your winning idea, and I’ll write it down here.”
When Sadie had all the new choices written down, she said, “Each group pick an idea from this list without picking your own.”
Soon there were six ideas. Sadie worked with the Slugs to keep whittling away at the list until they finally had the winning solution. It had taken three hours of back-and-forth disagreements, but she finally had brought them all together. “Wow, you guys did it. See?”
Not one Slug had given up through the grueling decision-making. They didn’t all concur at first, but they worked together and came to an agreement.
“We’ll start on the Atrium tomorrow. Thank you, Sadie.”
“You’re welcome,” Sadie said to…Banyan apparently.
“Hi, Banyan.” Sadie wasn’t fazed by her transportation. She was getting used to all the shifting around. She also had gotten used to the arrival of her crystals and celebrated each one. She felt that familiar weight manifest in her pocket. She loved getting them and finding out the word they sent her.
“Cooperation.” Nice. I’ve gotta remember I can’t always get my way.
Red flashes appeared in her periphery. She turned.
“Banyan, what are those flashes? I don’t understand…When am I going to find out what they are? The blue and green ones feel good, but the red ones scare me.”
A breeze lifted up the willow’s branches, but no answer came.
“Banyan?”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
What Would We Do Without Music?
Finn ran his fingers through his thinning gray hair. “What did you say? I don’t think I heard you correctly! You saw her and didn’t wake me? That can’t be true.”
Basset cowered on his knees. “This was the first good night’s sleep you’ve had since we left our cabin, Mr. Finn.”
“Are you kidding me? Sleep? You think I need sleep? This is much more important than closing my eyes for a few hours. This is what we came here for. I cannot believe this…what with the magnitude of our situation. You are in serious trouble.”
Finn’s jaw began the familiar clenching. The heat rose in his face. He grabbed Basset by the neck and choked him with one hand, pushing him halfway up the wall. It was only when he looked into the smaller man’s eyes—saw the strain and bulging, the silent pleading for his life—that he dropped him. Finn rubbed his hand, trying to ease the ache. “You’re lucky I still need your assistance, or I wouldn’t have stopped myself.”
Basset shivered, still kneeling on the floor. “I meant the best for you is all. I always do.” He coughed out his words.
“The best thing for me is figuring out how to get there. I need to know the second she passes this way again. We have to be quicker this time, or I won’t be able to see how she goes. If one toe hits that driveway, I want to know about it.”
Basset got up, and Finn grabbed the front of his shirt. “Fail to inform me of her arrival again, you sniveling saboteur, and you’ll be in the ground.”
Basset’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, Mr. Finn. It was an unforgivable mistake.”
“You bet your life it was. Where’s breakfast?”
There was a tense silence in the house over the next two days.
Finn waited with growing frustration as Basset sat silently nearby.
“Damn it! Where is she?” I’m weary of all this waiting. I want to get there and get this done yesterda
y. All this rain doesn’t help me either. If I hear one more plop on the roof, I will scream.”
Basset sat on the dusty floor without making a sound.
Finn found Basset’s face more disturbing than usual. It reminded him of too many things he didn’t care to contemplate.
Another unproductive day passed.
It was Finn’s turn to sit in the chair by the kitchen window and wait for the girl named Sadie. He had carved each dawn in the wooden wall. He knew it had been three days since Basset had made his near-fatal error.
It hadn’t dared rain since Finn’s threat. The predawn sky was full of dark hues, and this would be one of those horrid sunny days that bore into his eyes and pores. Sunglasses didn’t do a thing to help him.
Finn played at being patient. The hours rolled by. Basset came downstairs for a few minutes then went back up. Finn heard the unmistakable sound of a foot on the driveway.
In a flash, he was on all fours beneath the splintered window ledge, edging toward the door. After scaling his way up by the handle, he turned it and eyed around the corner, where he saw her in the middle of the backyard. She hadn’t heard him.
I’d rather she not see me, but if she does, I always have plan B.
He kept a respectable distance, but his primary goal was to keep her in sight. That way he could observe how she traveled.
With his best stealth on, Finn barely crunched the twigs and leaves that threatened to give him away.
He watched her sit by that mangy willow. He waited for the moment of revelation, and then he was there.
I know that hat! I should kill him where he stands. What is Mr. Felix doing here? I need to find out.
“Hello, Sadie.”
“Ugh, not you! I could have lived without seeing you again.”
You and me both, Finn thought. Curious, though. I wonder what he did to you. The acoustics were good, so Finn could hear everything.
“Why are you always in the same navy suit? What’s up with that?”
Ha. Good question, Finn pushed his left ear forward.
“I’m a simple man. I found what worked for me, and I stuck with it. Sadie, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
“I think we got off the way we were meant to. All I want to do is sit here quietly with Banyan. I’m trying to forget a rough weekend, and you’re in my way.”
“You might like what I have to tell you.”
“That’s not possible.”
Finn leaned so far forward on all fours that he nearly fell on his face. They’re about to spill it. Any time now would be nice.
“Give me a couple of minutes, and then I’ll go. I have the answer to your question.” He placed his Fedora on the grass.
“Okay. You have two minutes.”
Are you kidding me? Can’t you see he’s trying to get one over on you?
“We overlap the human world at this very spot. You, Sadie, come from a long line of individuals who protect both worlds from harm.”
“Yeah, right, and how do you propose I do that?”
Really? All out of ideas already, little girl?
“Didn’t you feel drawn here? Don’t you feel there’s a purpose in it? In time you will see. For now I will leave you.” He picked up his hat and tipped it toward her. “I respect our time, and mine has run out.”
Respect? That’s fascinating, Mr. Felix. Not.
“Wait, I can spare a few more minutes. Tell me more. How am I supposed to…”
Where did…Oh, right. He never could give a complete answer.
“…protect them? Ooh, that Mr. Felix. He gets me so angry, Banyan.”
“Angry” isn’t really the best word for it!
Finn sat back on his heels and waited for her to transport. Any minute now he would know the secret. Was it a password? A key? A knock on that stone over there?
He watched how she sat there and spoke inanely to the tree. Maybe it was to herself. Difficult to know with Banyan.
It’s got to be over an hour now. My eyes hurt from watching all this nothing. I need to move. It’s either cross to the treeline or pull every last hair out of my head.
The girl got up and climbed the hill.
Does this mean you’re not transporting? Come on now!
Finn closed his eyes for a second and saw red linings peppered with images of violence and mayhem: broken arms, twisted necks, and uprooted trees. His overheated brain threatened to blow any second. Where the hell is Basset? To be so angry without any release maddened him.
He moved into the shadows.
She froze, seeming to detect a change. She stared back, directly at him.
Act Three
Three Sides of the Story
Made of all shapes that flit and sway,
And mass, and scatter in the breeze,
And meet and part, open and close;
Thou sister of the clouds and trees,
Thou daintier phantom of the rose.
—“Shadow,” Richard La Gallienne
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
The Night the Children Left
The girl smiled to herself and folded her gloved hands in her lap. She’d had her first lovely evening out with her parents in society. She wore her best dress with the crinoline peeking out underneath. Her bright-white gloves and the hat her father had bought her the last time he had traveled on business accentuated the outfit. The crinoline tickled, and the gloves took some getting used to, but it was her first time at the Eagle Lake Country Club, and she felt fancy and grown up now that she was eleven. Even the heavy rain couldn’t dampen her delight.
The rain came down in torrents. She didn’t understand how her father could see anything through the windshield with streams of water obscuring the glass.
The car’s back tires swerved out of the line they’d been steadily following on the road. That was enough to wake her twin brother, who immediately turned his head to the left to observe her, his eyes wide. Her mother’s breathing quickened, and the girl could tell she was nervous.
She understood why her mother reacted as she did, but the girl knew that panic didn’t serve her own mind. It only drained her of her resources and ultimately her choices.
She silently called out for help, and a flash of knowing came to her. This was moments before her world changed. Her fingers tingled, and a calm strength flowed through her. She felt she might be strong enough to protect all the people in the car, the ones she loved the most.
The sound of the road changed to a muted grating, and she felt that telling little bump as the road shifted. They were headed onto the overpass known as Clover Bridge.
The car swerved, first once and then more often. Despite the girl’s early decision to disregard her nerves and worry, they gnawed away at her stomach. It was no longer a conscious choice. Driving through this storm—after all was said and done, had this evening out been worth this harrowing experience?
She sang a soothing prayer song under her breath. She did it for her much-loved brother, who hid his face in his hands and burrowed under her arm. She felt his fear coming in pounding waves. By doing so, she somehow lost the ability to sense what her parents were feeling. Although she hadn’t meant to separate from them, she felt a keen responsibility to care for her brother, whatever the eventual outcome. She tried her best to sneak a peek into the future—not very far…just enough to get to the other side of the bridge—but there was nothing. What a time for her sight to leave her.
A sweet giant of a white dog materialized behind her father’s seat, almost in her lap. No one seemed to notice, but a wave of peace flooded through her again. She was amazed to see her brother’s head pop up as he pointed a finger at the dog. He definitely saw it too. What do you know? We’re related after all. She found herself letting out a little giggle despite the situation, which grew more treacherous by the second.
The headlights of the oncoming traffic penetrated the water-covered windshield. She wondered whether their end was near. Was this why she saw the dog? Did
it represent something about the grave or the afterlife? Before she finished that thought, the dog moved closer and encircled the two children with its expansive paws. Metal scraped on metal as the car crashed through the barrier. Gravity exerted its force within seconds.
They were floating through darkness. She heard her thoughts along with the beating of her heart. Where are my parents? Are they in this darkness too?
She moved through mist. Her brother’s voice cried out in the distance. Truth be told, the softness of the white fur felt like all that stood between her and eternity. She put her head on the dog’s chest and fell asleep.
When she opened her eyes, she was in a large bed, comfy as could be. The sun came with liquid-gold highlights through the slatted window, showing off her now-white hair. They somehow had lived through the night.
Her brother’s anguished cries echoed from a nearby room. Were her parents with him? She couldn’t sense them. She left the comfort of the soft blankets and ran to him. Fear rose in her heart when she saw the terror in his eyes. He didn’t seem to know her at all.
The giant white dog that stood guard over her brother began to change shape. Moments later a shiny, jewel-laden, scaled creature stood where the dog had been. The scaled one had a kind face, assuring her that all would be well. “My name is Thelo. Do not be afraid. You are safe.”
Where was she? Was she dead? Was this the long dream of the afterlife? Why was her brother so afraid?
As she tried again to comfort him, he scrambled from her arms and crumpled into the far corner of the bed and wall, as far away from her as he could get.
“Why are you so upset, Finn? Don’t you know who I am? It’s me: Rose.”
CHAPTER SIXTY
This Man Needs a Melody
From between the broken slats, Finn and Basset took turns watching for the girl. They didn’t expect her once it was dark, but who knew? The two men kept up their vigil even in the wee hours, though Finn forbade the use of light.