by Suzanne Weyn
Emma watched Lucy go into the house, her shoulders slumped with disappointment. Emma was feeling equally low. She didn’t want to stay in 1892. She’d miss her family and friends — especially Keera. And Roberto! She’d barely gotten to know him.
The bench she was on suddenly buzzed with a vibration. Surprised, Emma looked around and gasped.
The music box was back, sitting on the bench, without a scratch on it.
EMMA SAT on the quilted bedspread that covered the creaky old-fashioned brass bed in Lucy’s room. Lace curtains fluttered gently in the breeze from the slightly open window.
Both of them stared at the music box, which now sat in the middle of the bed. At the moment it seemed peaceful enough — just an ordinary music box.
“I can’t believe it came back,” Lucy said as she paced.
“It seems to have a way of doing that,” Emma remarked, thinking of how it had mysteriously returned from the garbage can. “I could have sworn the garbage truck carted it off, but it showed up back in my room.”
“I don’t understand,” Lucy said. “Garbage what?”
“Lucy, you might not believe this, but, I’m not … from here.”
“What are you talking about?” Lucy asked, completely puzzled.
“I know it sounds unbelievable, but it’s true. Somehow, Alexa dragged me through this little mirror.” Peering into the oval mirror, Emma saw only her own eyes peering back at her.
“Is that possible?”
“I know it doesn’t sound possible,” Emma admitted. “But she appeared in my room and then turned herself into a sort of vapor.”
“Perhaps we should go back to the theater,” Lucy said.
“And talk to Alexa!?” Emma yelped. Why would they ever want to see her again?
“She might know how going through the mirror works. After all, she was able to do it to get to you.”
“That’s true. But she’s so scary.”
“If we stay together, we can handle her,” Lucy said.
“She’s so strong, though,” Emma said. She wondered if Alexa’s amazing strength came to her from the music box. Now that they had it, would they be stronger than Alexa?
“You would really give me this music box?” Lucy asked.
“If it was in my power to give it to you, I definitely would. Really,” Emma said.
“Let’s get another look at it.” Lucy picked it up from the bed and lifted the lid.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Emma asked doubtfully.
“How else will we figure out how to get you home?” Lucy said as she wound the key to start the music.
“Good point. I don’t know.”
The music of “The Blue Danube” filled the room. Lucy set the open box with its gently spinning figures back on the bed.
Da-da-da-da DUM Dee-dum dee-dum Da-da-da-da DUM Dee-dum dee-dum
The sound of that music panicked Emma. “Close it, Lucy! Close it right now.”
“No! You gave it to me. It’s mine now!”
“We don’t know whose it is yet,” Emma argued. “It might still be mine, and I’m saying to keep it shut.”
Emma was so caught up trying to persuade Lucy to shut the music box that she didn’t even notice when the pace of the music first began to speed up. But the strange vibration caught her attention and she jumped away from the bed, startled. The vibration’s buzz grew louder and louder. “What’s happening?!” Emma cried, her voice trembling.
Lucy had flattened herself against the wall by the door. “I — I d-don’t know!”
The music was becoming unbearably loud, and the girls clapped their hands over their ears, cowering away from the noise. Then, tiny male dolls began to stream from the box; their frantic shouts were a high-pitched whine.
“They’re getting bigger!” Emma cried, terrified, as the small music box men began to grow.
Lucy lunged for the door and rattled the knob. “It won’t open!”
The little woman doll stepped out of the box last. She’d already grown to full size, and was bent forward, laughing.
“The Blue Danube” blasted.
The room was filled with the music box men, who shuffled around, seeming not to know where to go.
Emma found Lucy and gripped her arm.
“What do they want?” Lucy cried frantically.
“I don’t know!” Emma said. “Let’s get out of here.”
The music box men and woman knocked books from the shelves and threw furniture across the floor. They didn’t seem to want anything but to destroy everything in their path, and they slowly made their way toward the girls, who were cornered against the door.
“How can we get out of here?” Lucy squealed. “The door is stuck fast!”
The music played even louder, and it seemed to make its way into Emma’s brain. It made the room spin. Emma clamped her hands over her ears again as colors spun inside her head. She had to make it STOP!
HAD TO MAKE IT …
had to … make it …
had to …
stop
WHEN EMMA opened her eyes, she was on the floor in the bedroom. Her forehead ached, and when she touched it, she flinched from the pain. Something had hit her, or maybe she’d simply fallen down and banged her head.
Where were the music box creatures? Where was Lucy?
The only thing Emma could think to do was to head for the theater. She hoped she remembered the way. The thought of going back there terrified her. But what other choice did she have? The scary ballerina, Alexa, was the only one who knew about the music box, and Emma couldn’t think of anyone else who might know what the music box men had done with Lucy — or how to get her back.
Emma tried the door and was happy to find it was no longer locked. She made her way through the silent house. All the furniture was broken and thrown around. The paintings on the walls were now on the floor. It was clear that the music box people had made their way through, destroying everything they touched. She hoped Lucy was all right.
In less than fifteen minutes, Emma was within several blocks of the theater and could see the building. On the outside, everything looked quiet enough.
The front door was locked, so Emma went around to the side. Stretching high on tiptoe, Emma looked through a first-floor window into a hallway. A shadow slid across the wall. Someone was in there!
The window was halfway open. Emma wondered if she could squeeze through.
It took a small jump for Emma to get to the window ledge and pull herself up. It was tight, but Emma managed to maneuver through until she was in.
Emma stood in the hallway, breathing hard and wondering what to do next. Frightened though she was, there was no going back now. She hurried through the hallways until she came to the main stage area. From the wings of the theater, she stared.
All the other people from the stage were gone. Only Alexa stood onstage, dressed in her blue tulle Sleeping Beauty costume. Emma stepped out onto the stage to confront her.
“You!” Alexa cried angrily. “Where have you been? Have you brought me my music box?”
“It’s not yours,” Emma said. “It belonged to Sonia Rubenya.”
“But Sonia couldn’t handle it,” Alexa replied. “She let it possess her until it danced her to death.”
“It would have done the same to you,” Emma told her.
“No, it wouldn’t,” Alexa disagreed. “I’m stronger than Sonia was. I could have controlled the music box.”
“How would you do that?” Emma asked.
“By giving my heart and soul to it,” Alexa replied. “All I want is to be the greatest dancer alive. The music box can do that for me. And the music box protects me. As long as I am its master it will stop anyone who attempts to get in the way of my greatness.”
“But I possess the music box now,” Emma stated firmly.
“No one possesses the music box,” Alexa countered. “It possesses the dancer of its choice. All it cares about is the dance. It chooses the o
ne who is the greatest dancer.”
“That’s why the music box chose me,” Emma pointed out to her.
“You? A dancer? Ha!” Alexa scoffed. “Greater than I am?”
“Maybe not now, but someday I might be,” Emma said.
Alexa folded her arms defensively. “The music box does what it needs to do on my behalf.”
“Then why did it come to me?” Emma asked.
Alexa scowled at Emma. “You touched the box. You broke the bond. The music box no longer wanted me. It found you.”
Fury swept across Alexa’s face. “Do you know what it’s like to trip on your own feet when only hours ago you were the greatest ballerina in the world!? I had to get that box back. I tore through Sonia Rubenya’s diaries looking for all I could uncover about the music box. Then, one day, I discovered the way.”
“What did you find?” Emma asked.
“Sonia wrote about the day she first saw the music box in a little building called the Haunted Museum while she was in London. She picked up the music box to examine it and was sharply scolded by the owner of the place, a woman wearing robes and heavy jewelry. Her name was Belladonna Bloodstone.”
Emma gasped. She remembered seeing that name over the front door of the Haunted Museum: OWNER BELLADONNA BLOODSTONE. She must have been a descendant of the original owner.
“When Sonia returned to Boston, the music box was delivered to her,” Alexa continued. “She assumed that the strange Miss Bloodstone felt bad about scolding her and was making a gift to apologize.”
It wasn’t difficult for Emma to make the connection between this story and her own.
“After Sonia died, I just knew that the music box was responsible for her sudden greatness,” Alexa continued. “I was the first one to find her dead in her dressing room. I took the music box and hid it so no one else would find it. In no time, I became a prima ballerina. I was dancing like a dream, and then suddenly it disappeared, and I could barely take two steps without stumbling.”
Emma realized that the day she touched the music box in the Haunted Museum must have been when it left Alexa and came to her. “How did you find out it was with me?” Emma asked.
“I traveled all the way to London to find Belladonna Bloodstone in her Haunted Museum. I told her that the music box had abandoned me but that I could see, in my dance mirror, where it was.”
“Where was it?” Emma asked.
Alexa colored red. “It was with you, of course. Idiot!”
“When you told her this, did she think you were insane?” Emma asked.
“Not at all,” Alexa replied, calming down. “She wasn’t one bit surprised. Miss Bloodstone sold me a potion that allowed me to come through the mirror to get you and the music box.”
“But we went through the music box,” Emma said, puzzled.
“It doesn’t matter. Wherever the music box’s master is, that’s where it goes,” Alexa explained.
Da-da-da-da DUM Dee-dum dee-dum Da-da-da-da DUM Dee-dum dee-dum
Emma looked sharply toward the back of the theater where the familiar music was playing. “And here I am,” Lucy said as she walked down the center aisle, holding the open music box. “The little dancers consider me their master now.”
“Impossible!” Alexa cried. “You!?”
Lucy nodded. “Look at this!” Still holding the open, playing music box, Lucy twirled gracefully down the aisle as she spun in rapid turns, and then leaped high through the air. “I could never dance before,” she said with a mix of delight and disbelief. “Not even a little. I just wanted to be a dancer.”
Lucy clutched the music box to her chest. “Give us the potion you bought from Miss Bloodstone. I was standing in the back. I heard what you said. Let Emma go home through the mirror.”
“Never!” Alexa shouted.
Lucy slowly opened the lid of the music box. Da-da-da-da DUM Dee-dum dee-dum Da-da-da-da DUM Dee-dum dee-dum
“You are standing in the way of what I want,” Lucy threatened.
ALL RIGHT! All right!” Alexa gave in, backing away. “Follow me.”
Lucy and Emma trailed Alexa to her dressing room, where she took a jar of black waxy goop from her vanity table. “That’s the potion?” Emma said to Lucy in a whisper.
“It had better be,” Lucy replied.
“Come with me,” Alexa commanded. They followed her to a dance rehearsal room in the theater. A floor-to-ceiling mirror covered the far wall.
Alexa faced Lucy. “If I send her back, do you promise to give me the music box?”
“Do you promise not to hurt people with it?” Lucy replied.
“I can’t control the music box,” Alexa said. “It has a mind of its own.”
“If you can’t control it, you shouldn’t have it,” Emma said.
“Lucy, if I don’t have your promise that you will give me the music box, you will never get this potion,” Alexa insisted, holding the jar of black goo over her head.
“Really?” Lucy asked calmly as she grabbed for the jar in Alexa’s hands and got it away from her. “How do I use this?”
“I won’t tell you!” Alexa snapped.
Da-da-da-da DUM Dee-dum dee-dum Da-da-da-da DUM Dee-dum dee-dum
“You’re annoying me again,” Lucy said, holding the lid of the music box ajar to let it play.
Alexa scowled and jumped in an attempt to get the jar back, but Lucy was taller and she couldn’t reach it. Emma grabbed Alexa’s arms. Without the strength from the music box, Alexa couldn’t break free.
“You rub the potion on your wrists,” Alexa answered reluctantly.
Lucy handed the jar to Emma, who opened it and immediately turned her head away. “What a stink!” she exclaimed.
She smeared the goo on her wrists and waited. Emma’s whole body tingled, and she felt somehow less solid.
Suddenly dizzy, she staggered toward the mirror.
The room spun.
Emma’s right arm melted into a stream of white vapor. “Oh!” she shouted. It was so scary to have her arm disappear like that.
Da-da-da-da DUM Dee-dum dee-dum Da-da-da-da DUM Dee-dum dee-dum
It was the last thing Emma heard as she melted completely into vapor.
Emma strained to see in the jet-blackness that engulfed her. Where was she?
From the hallway, a light clicked on. Instantly Emma saw that she was in Madame Andrews’s dance studio.
Relief flooded her. She was home! But she wasn’t alone. Had the music box people come through with her?
“Who’s out there?” Emma called.
Roberto came into the studio. “Emma!” he cried, thrilled to see her. “Are you all right?”
Emma examined herself in the mirror. All her body parts had made it through. She patted herself thoroughly, just to be sure she was solid. “Yes! I’m fine!”
“Everybody is out looking for you! A group met up here to organize a search party. I only came back to get my backpack.” He held up a key ring. “Madame Andrews lent me these so I could let myself in. She’s out searching, too. What happened to you?”
“How long have I been gone?” Emma asked.
“You’ve been missing for most of the day. Don’t you know that? Where were you? Why didn’t you call or text anyone?” He lifted his cell phone to display the many texts he’d sent trying to find her. “Did you lose your phone or something?”
“You’ll never guess where I’ve been,” Emma said.
“Try me.”
“I was in Boston, in 1892,” Emma said, still not quite believing it herself. “They didn’t have wireless back then, so I couldn’t answer my phone. How could you ever guess that?”
“No, that’s not something I would have guessed,” Roberto agreed, staring at her with a puzzled expression. “Did you fall, maybe? Something has affected your brain.”
Emma didn’t know what to say. How could she expect anyone to believe what had really happened? It might be easier to tell everyone she’d fallen and then wandered back
to the dance studio.
“How did you get into the dance studio?” Roberto asked as they headed for the front door. “The place was locked when I got here.”
“Uh … I don’t know,” Emma said. “It’s all so foggy. I just don’t know.”
“Why are you dressed like that?” Roberto asked, taking in the long gown Emma still wore.
It was time to think fast. “Uh … the last thing I remember is the school play. I was trying out for it and they asked me to wear this costume. That’s the last thing I remember.”
“Maybe you tripped on the long hem,” Roberto said.
“Yeah, that’s probably it.”
When they stepped through the door, Roberto took out his phone and called Emma’s parents. “They’ll be right here,” he told her.
“Do you think you’re well enough to try out for dance team tomorrow?” Roberto asked Emma as they waited for her parents to arrive.
“No. Definitely not.”
“But you’re so talented.” Emma realized that Roberto wasn’t looking at her with that crazy gaga expression he’d worn when the music box was playing.
“Maybe you could dance to your music box again,” Roberto said. “You danced so well to it the other day.”
Emma imagined how it would be if she had the music box back. “I’m not really sure what happened to that music box,” she told him.
“Really? That’s too bad. Do you want me to help you look for it?”
“No. Don’t worry. I never really liked that thing anyway.”
Of course, she was happy that the music box was gone.
But was she? Really?
WHERE HAVE you been?” Emma’s mother cried when Emma climbed into the backseat of the family car. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Emma said. “Hungry.” She realized she hadn’t eaten all day.
“We were so worried! You didn’t answer your phone, and that nice boy, Roberto, came by and said you hadn’t showed up in dance class. What are you wearing?”
Emma glanced in the rearview mirror of the car and caught sight of the ruffle-collared old-fashioned gown of Lucy’s she wore. “I was in Boston! In 1892. I thought I’d never get home. That music box had a real ballerina in it, who appeared in my bedroom last night. She pulled me back through time and —”