He scans the street for anything out of the ordinary and hurries toward the end of the block. He crosses the street to the tiny green space where young mothers watch their children climb the monkey bars, or push them in their tiny swings. He finds a tree to lean on that provides both shade and a clear view of his block. One of the mothers eyes him suspiciously. He smiles at her, but she glances at her child as if to warn him to stay clear.
He waits, taking sips of his water, the seconds crawling by. And then, from the other end of the block, turning off Broadway, two long black cars, sparkling in the August sun, roar down 175th Street. These aren’t the beat-up black sedans of the gypsy cab drivers. They are shiny black, with tinted windows and glistening silver hubcaps. The cars stop in front of his building and from each vehicle emerge two men, dressed head to toe in dark suits, sunglasses shielding their eyes. They look up and down the block. One gazes directly at Ray, and even though he is several hundred feet away, shrouded by the shade of the park tree, it feels as though the man sees him, gazing right into his soul. A chill brushes his spine and he shrinks farther into shadow. Three of the men disappear into his building. The fourth waits by the car.
That’s when he spots her. His mother. Hurrying around the corner of the block. What is she doing home? Her shift doesn’t end for two hours. The shop is only a few blocks away; had someone called her? The nosy old lady? Then he remembers. The computer, her cell phone, it’s all on the same account. She must have been alerted that someone had logged in. And that someone, she surely knew, was him. She stops at the corner when she spots the black cars. She hesitates and he wonders if she’ll run. No, she would never leave him. She walks toward the building, head down, trying not to be noticed by the man in black. He’s turned the other direction, and Ray thinks for just a moment that his mom will make it past. But the man turns as she heads up the front steps to their building.
The man notices her and takes off. He doesn’t even hesitate, as if he knows who she is. He grabs her by the arm and pulls her down the steps. Ray drops his bottle of water and starts forward. He has to protect her. The man drags her to the car. She takes a swing at him, but his mother is tiny and the man grabs her wrist as he would a child’s. He tosses her into the back of the second black car. Ray is running now. He starts to shout but thinks better of it. He needs to surprise the man in black, knock him to the sidewalk, open the door, and make a break for it with his mom. He’ll promise to listen from now on, to never, ever defy her again.
He crosses the street, against the light, dodging honking cabs, running as hard as he can. The moment his foot hits the sidewalk, there is a blur from his right, someone moving fast. And that someone’s shoulder is in his gut and he’s lifted off his feet and forced up the sidewalk out of view of the man in black.
“Hey,” he starts to shout, but it comes out “Hehhhhh . . . .” as the air is knocked out of him. The two of them hit the sidewalk. His elbows scrape painfully on the cement.
“It’s too late!” Ray looks up in surprise at who has tackled him. A boy, about his age. “Nothing can be done.”
Ray pushes him off. The boy is skinny to the point of looking starved. His uniform is dirty. He has brown hair but with traces of red. “Let me go!” Ray shouts and jumps to his feet. The man’s still guarding the car in which his mother has been put. The other men emerge from the building. They look up and down the street. As their eyes swing in his direction, the boy pulls him to the ground.
“Do not be foolish,” he hisses. “We must run.”
“I can’t leave her,” Ray says. He is crying. “It’s my fault they came.”
“It does not matter,” the boy says. “They always come.” The boy pulls him away, half-dragging him across the sidewalk. From the ground, Ray sees the legs of the dark-suited men spreading out, going up and down the street. Searching. For him.
Ray thinks back to what his mom always told him. “If anyone ever comes for us, just run.” These are the bad people she’d feared. And though it rips out his insides to leave her, he knows he has to do as she told him. He makes a promise to himself that he will come back for her one day. He will save her. But not today. Today, he will obey her and run.
He and the boy slink along the sidewalk, ducking behind parked cars on the crowded Washington Heights street. Passersby look at them strangely. One in particular glances from him and the boy and back to where the men advance. Ray sees something in the man’s eyes. “Please, no,” Ray says to the man. But the man smiles, a nasty grin, and he shouts, “They’re here! Over here!”
The boy takes off, dragging Ray with him. The man shouts even louder. “They’re here! They’re here! I want my reward.” Ray and the boy round the corner. Ray hears one of the men ask the traitor, “Which way?”
“Only if I get my reward.”
“You’ll get something all right. Tell us where!”
“That way.”
Ray and the boy dodge people on the street. A police officer eyes them suspiciously as they zip past. “Stop them!” comes a shout from up the block. The officer joins the chase.
“This way,” the boy says, and he makes an abrupt turn into the entrance of a subway station. Down the stairs they fly. Ray takes the last four in one leap, stumbling at the bottom. They sprint through the station. Ray bumps a man with a briefcase and it pops open, papers flying, the man letting loose a string of curses.
The boy leaps over the turnstile, Ray at his heels. A transit worker shouts, “Hey!” Ray glances back and sees the police officer and the transit worker climbing over the turnstiles, the men in black right behind them.
They run down the platform. A train is pulling into the station and the boy shouts, “No!” The train slows to a stop and the doors bang open.
“We’re not getting on?” Ray asks. They push through the crowds toward the end of the station.
“No.”
“Where are we going?”
The doors close, and the train starts to pull out of the station. Ray begins to feel strange. Everything seems to slow down. “Fight it!” the boy says. The train has come to a stop again, making no sound. All the passengers who had disembarked are frozen on the platform. He and the boy are the only two moving at all, but they barely can. It’s as if they are running underwater, the air around them thick and soupy.
“What’s happening?” he asks, trying to shout. His mouth will hardly move.
The boy turns to face their pursuers. Ray fights through the soup to turn with the boy. There is no police officer now, no transit worker. Just the three men in black, charging down the platform. The men get within about twenty feet and stop, which strikes Ray as curious. Why don’t they just grab them? “We must try our powers,” the boy says, grunting out each word.
“I don’t understand,” Ray responds. But something tickles at his memory, an image from long ago. A man dressed like these men, stopping them in front of their home. His mother’s terror. His father lying in the snowy yard as the evil man approaches. Then his fear and rage and the explosion that came from within. He remembers that and he thinks of his mother being thrown into the back of the car and the men swarming like cockroaches looking for him. And his rage grows.
He steps forward, the soupy air parting before him. He stands shoulder to shoulder with the boy. “Keep away from us!” he shouts, and the men laugh. One of them holds a peculiar-looking machine. Another draws back his hand as if to throw something. He flings his hand forward. The tiny boy does the same. But whatever the man hurls is stronger and it knocks Ray and the boy back. It feels like he’s been punched in the nose. Blood trickles to his lip. The fury explodes within him. He leaps to his feet. The boy shakes his head trying to clear it. Ray steps toward the approaching men. He doesn’t understand what is happening, but he trembles with power. He draws back his hands like the men did, as if he knows exactly what to do. He flings whatever is within him at the men and it’s as if an invisible truck smacks them. Backward they fly, tumbling head over heels down
the platform, the machine shattering on the concrete. The train starts moving again. The passengers unfreeze. People scream when they see the men crumpled on the platform. Some run. Others huddle around the men and call for help.
“Holey moley,” the boy says beside him. He’s gotten to his feet as the chaos erupts and he stares at Ray with eyes wide. The police officer who had been chasing them appears but is distracted by the downed men. “We must go,” the boy hisses, and he turns and runs to the edge of the platform. He looks back and motions for Ray to follow. Then he jumps onto the track.
Ray hesitates for just a moment. He glances back at the men. The officer spots him and rises to give chase. Ray sprints to the edge of the platform, jumps down, and follows the mystery boy into the dark bowels of Manhattan. His mother, and life as he knew it, are gone.
CHAPTER 4
Gallahad
Ray and I emerged from the Sharing just long enough for me to say, “I’m so sorry,” before we passed out. And when I awoke, the boys were still asleep but Grandmother was alert.
Are you OK, my sweet?
Yes, Grandmother. My head ached as Ray’s memories came back in a rush. Did you see who the Supreme Leader is?
Grandmother sighed. Yes, dearest.
So he did all this? He changed everything and now rules the whole world?
It appears so.
We need to go back right now and undo it. Let’s find the elf while they’re sleeping. Ray was sprawled on the floor where he’d collapsed. A blanket had been placed over him, a pillow tucked under his head. Ivan-I-Am-Not was draped across a broken-down recliner next to Ray. He snored softly.
We need to learn more first, Carol. We need to know what your uncle did so we can properly undo it. Or else things could change in even worse ways.
How can things be worse? His mom was kidnapped right in front of him!
I saw, dear. That’s why we must find out more. We also need help navigating the city to get to the elf.
Just open a portal to him.
He’ll vanish the moment he sees me.
He knows you?
Of course, dear. I’m the one who had him banished.
I groaned. How in the world were we going to get help from an elf with a grudge?
Ray stirred and bolted upright. He moaned and held the side of his head. “I feel like I’ve been beaten.” Ivan-I-Am-Not awoke and rubbed his eyes, which widened at the sight of us, as if maybe he thought he’d dreamed our arrival. I wondered what he’d done during the Sharing.
Ray’s eyes were moist and I felt guilty. We had forced him to relive the worst moments of his life. I wanted to give him a hug. I wanted to tell him things were going to be all right. But that certainly wasn’t true, at least not any time soon. We needed to find that elf first. And then I would have to defeat my uncle. Again. And if he had figured out how to change history itself, perhaps he’d grown so powerful I would no longer be a match for him.
“You’ll feel better soon,” Grandmother said to Ray.
“Do you have anything to eat?” I asked. My stomach rumbled and I felt lightheaded.
Ivan-I-Am-Not crossed over to a small cupboard and took out a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a can of green beans. He slathered some peanut butter on the bread and dumped the beans into two beat-up metal bowls. “Here you go,” he said.
I grimaced but was so hungry I scarfed the food down anyway. Grandmother ate daintily.
“Are you two on your own?” I asked. They were rail thin. No wonder, if that was all they had to eat.
The boys hesitated, looking at each other before Ray answered. “Our leader disappeared a few days ago. We think he was taken by the White Stripes.”
“An adult?” Grandmother asked.
Ray nodded.
“What’s his name?” I asked. I thought of my father or Mr. Winters or any of the other Defenders who might exist in this world. Perhaps even Ramon. Maybe he didn’t die in this reality. If the Defenders were never formed, we would not have lost him during our mission to save Dad in the Dominican Republic. The mission never would have happened. It was all so confusing.
“He goes by Gallahad,” Ray answered. “We don’t know his real name, but he’s kind of a genius. He messed with their machine so it not only stops the people with power but also detects them. Gallahad wants to find people like us before they do. That’s how we found you.”
Something tickled my memory. Why did that name sound familiar? But I knew no Gallahad. “I thought maybe it was someone we knew.” Then something occurred to me. Why hadn’t I thought of it earlier? “Hold on,” I said excitedly. “Grandmother, I can make a portal to anyone I know. We can find Dad. Or Mr. Winters.”
“But what if your dad works for the Supreme Leader?” Ray asked.
I put my hands on my hips. “Dad would never do that!” I shouted. “Take it back right now!”
“OK, OK,” Ray said. “I’m sorry. I take it back.” I scowled at him anyway.
“I don’t think a portal will work, dear,” Grandmother said.
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t know these versions of your father and Mr. Winters. And they won’t know you. So there’s no connection.”
My very own father wouldn’t know me? That was nearly as terrible as losing him altogether. “But you said you could make a portal to the bad elf. How’s that possible?”
“Because we live so long, dear. We existed and knew each other before your uncle changed everything.”
That made sense, but I still wanted to try. I concentrated on Dad’s face, his goofy smile, him calling me Angel Butt. I summoned every ounce of power I could. The portal shimmered, but no one appeared. It was a window to nowhere. I did the same for Mr. Winters. Nothing. Grandmother shook her head. “I’m sorry, dear. They may very well be here, but not as you know them.”
I tried hard not to cry. “What do we do then?”
Grandmother turned to the boys. “We need your help getting to the elf.”
“You know where he is?” Ray asked.
“The disturbance emanated from the lower part of the city,” Grandmother said. “I know exactly where that is. He’s lived there since he was exiled. We were almost neighbors. I used to keep my eye on him to make sure he didn’t cause trouble, but that was nearly two hundred years ago.”
Ivan laughed. Ray sniffed, “Right.”
I glared at them. “You don’t believe her?”
“You’re telling me she’s been alive for two hundred years?” Ray asked.
“More like five hundred, young man,” Grandmother said evenly.
Ray rolled his eyes.
“Oh, so you just saw an elf appear out of thin air,” I said, “but you’re not willing to believe she can live for hundreds of years?”
“It doesn’t matter what they believe, dear, as long as they help us.” Grandmother turned to the boys again. “You will help us, right?”
Ray sighed. “Show me where.”
Grandmother shuffled across the platform and stopped in front of a huge subway map on the wall, one that showed all of Manhattan and the surrounding boroughs. Someone had drawn on the map, making notes, as a general might when drawing up a battle plan. The lower part of Manhattan was divided from the rest of the city with a thick red line, below which was written “Forbidden Zone.” A star with “we are here” sat over 34th Street, west of where I knew Macy’s stood. Or used to stand. I wondered if the store existed in this world. If there was no Santa, there’d be no Miracle on 34th Street, my favorite movie. No Santa Land on the eighth floor of Macy’s. No kids waiting to sit on the Big Guy’s lap. So much magic gone from the world.
Grandmother put her finger on the star and traced it past the red line, deep into the Forbidden Zone. “Here,” she said.
Ray gasped. “We can’t go there.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“That’s the Supreme Leader’s territory.”
“He owns that whole part of the city?�
� I asked.
“It’s where his government is and the White Stripes all live.”
“And where they take prisoners,” Ivan-I-Am-Not whispered. “Men in black constantly looking for enemies. For us.”
“That’s where we need to go,” Grandmother said sternly. “There has to be a way.”
The boys shook their heads no, but I caught them exchanging a quick glance.
“You know how, don’t you?” I asked.
Ray dropped his chin to his chest and sighed. But he pointed to the thick line. “We can’t go through.” He looked back toward the subway tunnel. “But we can go under. They closed off the subways to the Forbidden Zone for security reasons. One train in, one train out. But there are tunnels and old stations they don’t know about.” He motioned around us. “Like this one.”
“OK, then,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Ray hesitated. “We’ve only gone so far. There are rumors about monsters. Ones like us who refused to serve the Supreme Leader were forced underground and live in darkness, eating rats and whatever else they can find. It transformed them into something that’s not . . . human.”
A chill crept along my spine, like a rat skittering across a subway rail. I thought again of my father. He would never submit to someone as evil as his brother. Maybe he had been forced to hide. Maybe he was now a monster. I shuddered at the image of him chasing rats through the tunnels.
Christmas Carol & the Shimmering Elf Page 4