Meeting

by Nina Hoffman

  The kitchen looked disappointingly normal. It had a white stove, a white refrigerator, pale gold countertops, wooden cupboards, and a stainless steel sink. The teakettle on the stove was red and still steaming. A brown clay teapot and some teacups sat on the table near one of the straight-backed chairs. A white plate held pale brown cookies that looked pretty darned generic.

  A gold-skinned stranger stood by the counter, shaking sugar from a box into a sugar bowl. He looked up as they came in and flashed a smile. He had curly blond hair and green eyes. He was tall, slender, and handsome, and he wore a green shirt with a black leather vest over it. His jeans and boots were also black.

  Who is that? Maya thought. He had a look that reminded her of Benjamin, but she didn’t think she had seen him before. She would have sketched him if she had; she liked how he looked.

  It’s Evren, Rimi thought. He comes to your house every Saturday night. You never noticed him before?

  No, Maya thought. She had never seen him before, she was pretty sure, because she was always studying people at Music Night. If someone had been there every time, and she hadn’t noticed him—

  He is strange. That’s why I watch him. He sings, but no one seems to hear him, and nobody ever talks to him. He looks around a lot. I like watching him. He moves past people and they don’t even seem to know.

  He’s invisible! Maya thought. But we can see him now?

  I can always see him, but invisible would explain why other people don’t notice him. Hmm, Rimi thought. He has always been twizzly, and no one else has been.

  “Well, hi, there.” Candra flashed her own wide smile.

  Ms. Janus said, “Candra, this is—”

  “Cousin Evren?” Gwenda said. Maya glanced at her. Gwenda looked astonished.

  “That’s right,” said Ms. Janus. “Evren Janus, Candra Andersen.”

  “A great pleasure.” Evren took Candra’s hand. He didn’t shake it, just held it and stared into Candra’s eyes, his smile never slipping.

  “And Maya Andersen and Peter Andersen,” Ms. Janus said.

  “Of course,” said Evren. He finally released Candra’s hand and turned to share his smile with Maya and Peter. “Nice to meet you.” He winked at Maya.

  “Hi,” she said. If a guy was invisible all the time and over at her house, he probably felt like he knew her, but she didn’t know him. Weird.

  “Evren’s going to join us for tea,” said Ms. Janus.

  “Right, I was just getting down the sugar.” Evren finished filling the sugar bowl and put away the box. He brought the sugar bowl to the table. “Cream, Viv?”

  “Yes, please,” said Ms. Janus.

  Evren got a carton of half-and-half out of the refrigerator, poured some into a creamer, and added it to the array of dishes on the table. Everybody sat down. Evren sat between Candra and Ms. Janus.

  The chamomile tea was pretty nasty. Maya added sugar and cream to drown the flavor. She and Rimi both watched for side effects and didn’t find any.

  The cookies looked plain vanilla and tasted like licorice.

  “So, Evren, how old are you?” Candra asked. She had touched her lips to her teacup, but she hadn’t actually drunk any of it.

  “How old do you think I am?”

  “No fair,” said Candra. “Either I guess right, or you’re insulted. Give it up, buddy.”

  “I’m nineteen. How old are you?”

  “Seventeen. Are you going away to college?”

  “Not this year.” He smiled at her.

  “So you’re hanging around here? What do you people find to do all day?”

  “We work,” said Evren.

  “Work at what?” Candra asked.

  “Most of us are in the family import-export business. Many of us work out of our homes.”

  “My clothes pals’ parents are part of our business,” Gwenda said.

  “You guys ship clothes around the world?”

  “Clothes, other goods, passengers. We facilitate various kinds of travel,” said Evren.

  “Could you get me to Europe?” Candra asked.

  Evren frowned, and Ms. Janus shook her head. “Our clientele is pretty specialized,” she said. “We might be able to help you arrange a trip—”

  “But not any better than Travelocity or Expedia,” Evren said.

  “Too bad,” said Candra.

  The talk turned to trips people had taken. They ate all the cookies. There was lots of tea left.

  “Welp,” said Candra eventually, “we’ve got innocent pumpkins to murder or deface.” She stood up. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for showing me your closet, Gwenda.”

  “Thanks for your hospitality,” Peter said to Ms. Janus.

  “You’re welcome. It’s a pleasure to have a visit from such a gentleman,” said Ms. Janus.

  “You’re Bran’s mother, right?” Peter asked.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “He’s in my class at school. He’s kind of hard to talk to, though.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Would you tell him I’m not his enemy?”

  “Sure, Peter. Or you could tell him yourself.” She crossed the living room, headed down the hall, and knocked on the first door. “Bran!”

  “What?” said a grumpy voice.

  “We have visitors.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m hiding.”

  Ms. Janus turned to them and shrugged.

  “Oh, well,” said Peter. He waved and they left. Gwenda came down the stairs with them and outside.

  “Lahish,” Gwenda murmured as they crossed the lawn toward the Andersens’ house.

  Interesting, thought Rimi.

  “So, like Candra said, we’re having a pumpkin carving party now,” Maya said to Gwenda. “Do you want to come? We don’t have a pumpkin for you, but you could help me with mine.”

  “That’s all right, Maya. I don’t know if I want to watch people torturing vegetables.” She smiled. “It’s not part of our tradition.”

  “You wouldn’t tell me last night whether you guys celebrate Halloween.”

  “It’s an interesting time of year,” Gwenda said.

  “Why’s that?” asked Candra.

  “People say ghosts walk on that night, and the walls between the universes are thinner. You can see strange things you don’t see other times of year.”

  “Neat,” said Peter.

  “Do you believe things like that?” Candra asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Gwenda frowned. “I haven’t met any ghosts, but I’ve talked to people who say they have.”

  “Double neat,” said Peter. “What was it like?”

  “You’d have to ask them. I can’t describe it well enough.”

  “Forget that,” Maya said. “Do you guys dress up for Halloween? Do you trick-or-treat?” Maya wasn’t sure when you were too old to trick-or-treat. Stephanie had said she wanted to keep doing it until she was twenty-one. “Face it,” Steph had said, “when else can you run around being scary and get candy for it? Why ever give this up?”

  Maya got the crushed-glass-against-your-skin shiver she felt whenever she thought of Steph’s future plans. Then she shook her head and looked at Gwenda, who was here now, and alive.

  “Some of the little kids dress up because their classes at school are doing it, but we’re not supposed to, really,” Gwenda said. “We’re supposed to just stay home. I’d like to go trick-or-treating sometime.”

  “This year,” Maya said. “Come with me.”

  Gwenda looked into Maya’s eyes. Rimi sent out a tendril and teased a lock of Gwenda’s hair, and Gwenda, the first person besides Maya to meet Rimi when Rimi hatched, smiled. “Maybe I will.”

  THREE

  Monday morning the alarm shrilled, and Maya woke and stared at the ceiling. Yesterday she’d been up to her arms in seeds and pumpkin slime, slinging strings of pumpkin guts at Peter and Candra in the kitchen, and now she had to go back to normal life. School.

  Her shadow rose and stre
tched into a vaguely humanoid shape against the air. It waved at Maya.

  Her shadow. Rimi, her alien friend who was part of her. Normal would probably never happen again.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Maya said. She sat up and glared at the clock.

  Rimi went to the closet, opened it, and pulled out a green shirt with a frog on the front.

  “I guess,” Maya said. She stood, shucked off her nightgown, and held out her arms. The shadow brought her the shirt, and she put it on. “I’m not sure I should be letting you make my fashion choices.”

  I see you more than you do, Mayamela, Rimi thought.

  “But your eyes are different,” said Maya.

  I like to like what I’m looking at.

  “You have a point. But a lot of other people are looking at me, too, and—heck with it.” Maya pulled on underwear and jeans. She put on socks and shoes, then shoved her sketchbook and pencil case into her backpack. She turned toward the door.

  You’re forgetting something, Rimi thought.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah.” Maya headed back to her desk and picked up her homework, school notebook, and textbooks and added them to the pack. “Thanks.”

  She opened her door and found Peter standing in the upstairs hall. He turned and raced for the stairs. “Mom! Maya’s talking to herself again!” he yelled as he clattered down the stairs ahead of her.

  “That’s allowed,” said their mother. “You do it, too.”

  “But she’s having whole conversations,” Peter said. “I just mutter.”

  “Shut up, brat. Why were you listening at my door? Don’t you have better things to do? Anyway, we’re allowed to do whatever we like in our own rooms as long as it doesn’t destroy anything or hurt anyone.” Maya pushed past Peter and scooped oatmeal out of a pot on the stove and into a bowl, added milk, raisins, and brown sugar. She ate standing up.

  “Maya, who were you talking to?” Mom asked.

  “My shadow,” said Maya.

  Mom turned to Peter. “What’s wrong with that?”

  Peter looked at Maya’s shadow. Rimi waved a shadow arm at him, and he jumped.

  Stop it, Rimi! Maya thought. We’re not allowed to let anyone else know about you!

  Rimi settled into a distorted monochrome version of Maya, hunched over the bowl she held. I’m tired of being a secret, Rimi thought. I want to play with Peter.

  It’s not my decision, Maya thought.

  “Mom, did you see—” Peter began. “No, of course you didn’t.”

  “It’s time to go, Peter,” Mom said. “Grab your stuff.”

  Peter took his lunch and backpack and followed Mom out the backdoor to her car. They were off to elementary school, where Peter studented and Mom taught.

  Maya glanced at the clock. She had ten minutes to run to middle school and settle into her chair in the back row of Mr. Ferrell’s homeroom. She dumped the rest of her oatmeal into Sully the golden retriever’s food bowl, put it out on the back porch next to his water dish, then rinsed out her bowl and stuck it in the dishwasher. Her father and Candra had already left for the high school. Everybody scattered in the morning.

  Maya’s shadow clumped over the food in Sully’s bowl before Sully could get to it. Maya felt ripples in her stomach as Rimi absorbed the oatmeal. Maya shimmied her shoulders to shake off a shudder. She was still getting used to Rimi’s new form and the things it did. Rimi wasn’t really a shadow; she liked to eat. She didn’t have much substance, though. Sometimes what she ate went straight to Maya’s stomach, or, worse, into Maya’s mouth, where Maya had to taste it. Rimi liked tasting things that weren’t food, and she was all about sharing the experience. Sometimes that was a good thing; Rimi tasted clouds, butterfly-wing dust, fire, happiness. Sometimes it was just dreadful, to the point where Maya had to throw up. Rimi had learned to edit what she shared. Sometimes.

  Today Rimi was probably eating because she thought Maya needed to eat.

  Maya pulled on her coat and backpack, grabbed the lunch she’d packed the night before, and ran out the front door. She dashed for school, right past Janus House, without stopping to say hello to Sarutha, who was sitting on the verandah with her backstrap loom attached to one of the posts. The teacher often sat facing the street, working on projects whose uses Maya was just beginning to learn. Maya waved and ran. She’d see Sarutha after school.

  Maya slowed as she ran past a store called Dreams & Bones. It was a bookstore/comic store/anime DVD rental/ café only a block and a half from home. Peter loved it. Maya had been inside several times before school started, but never since. She liked the anime and movie tie-in toys, and she loved paging through the manga and comic books, but she was scared of the proprietor. He looked about fifty, tall, thin, and wiry. He wore his long black hair in a braid down his back, had intense black eyes under craggy brows, and dressed in dark, nondescript clothing. Every time he stared toward her, Maya had felt sad and strange, and she didn’t know why. And he kept studying her, more, she thought, than he watched the other customers. Maybe he thought she was shoplifting? She couldn’t tell. Still, it made her uncomfortable.

  Even though the store was full of wonderful creamy-colored wooden shelves crowded with things she could have spent hours looking at, she stayed away after those first few visits.

  I want, Rimi thought as Maya peeked in through the window. The café part was up front, five small tables with ladder-backed chairs grouped around them. Part of the window showed the inside of the pastry case, with doughnuts and Danishes laid in rows on paper doily – topped trays. The store wasn’t open yet, but yellow light glowed in the back, where the books were.

  Want what? Maya wondered. She hadn’t gone into Dreams & Bones since she and Rimi had bonded.

  Don’t know. Inside that place—some kind of energy. A taste I tasted before. I sisti strange flavors. Want to explore.

  Later, Maya thought. She ran on to school.

  Students milled in front of Hoover Middle School. The building was all yellow brick and wide windows. Parents pulled up, and students slammed out of cars without a backward glance. First bell hadn’t rung yet, apparently. Maya glanced at her watch, which definitely said eight fifteen. She should be in homeroom by now. “Hey, Helen,” she called to a red-haired girl she knew from language arts class. “What time is it?”

  Helen got out her cell phone and checked. “Ten past eight.”

  Dad must have sneaked through the house and set all the clocks and watches five minutes fast. He did this every once in a while. It always made Maya mad, but then she was glad when she actually got where she should be on time. “Thanks,” she yelled, and ran into the building. Belatedly, she pulled out her own cell phone. She hadn’t had it long enough to be used to it. When she opened it, it asked her whether it should update the time. She pressed the YES button and saw that according to the gods of cell phone timing, it was still eight ten, as Helen had said. She turned off the phone, shoved it back in her pocket, and headed down the hall to her classroom.

  After settling in her seat in the back of homeroom, she took off her watch and reset it, three minutes fast instead of five.

  You could ask me what time it is, Rimi said.

  How would you know? Maya thought.

  Time weaves through most things here. There are different times here and there, but I can find the right stream.

  Okay. Next time I’ll ask you. Could you be an alarm clock?

  Wake you at a specific time? Of course, Rimi thought.

  Whoa. Gotta think about that, but coolness. Maya strapped her watch on and glanced sideways at Benjamin, in the desk to her left.

  Today he was wearing a black hoodie with thin white lines wandering over it. Up close, it looked like a topographical map, but from a distance, it looked gray, which was how Maya felt about Benjamin. If you didn’t look hard, you might not notice how interesting he was.

  “Hey,” she muttered.

  “Hi,” he said, and then, “Ke dey ee dun?” How have you been?

>   “Shtru,” she said, which meant okay. Part of her training was learning Kerlinqua.

  She leaned forward to peer past Benjamin at Gwenda. Gwenda was wearing a red skirt with straw-yellow petticoats that made it stand out. It was hemmed with lace. She had on a pale yellow shirt and wore a dark green webwork jacket over it. She waved one finger at Maya and smiled, shaking her charm bracelet.

  “All right, people, settle down. Answer when I call your name,” said Mr. Ferrell from up front.

  Maya got out her sketchbook and a couple of soft lead pencils. Mr. Ferrell called her name, Andersen, almost first, so she could focus on drawing while he went down the rest of the list. She sketched the row of chairs in front of her, adding the people sitting in them after she’d gotten good outlines of the furniture.

  She was concentrating on getting just the right shine in Helen’s red-blonde hair when Benjamin hissed at her. She glanced at him, and he nodded toward her sketch pad, where another of her pencils was moving across her drawing, flowing in faint shadows below the chairs in the picture.

  FOUR

  Maya cocked her head and watched Rimi add to her drawing. Would Maya have drawn those same shadows? She wasn’t sure. Teamwork shifted the focus of the picture. Maybe that made it better. Rimi was skilled, with a wonderful flow of line and evenness of pressure that made her shadows look sculpted. Maya hadn’t seen Rimi draw before.

  Maya wanted Rimi to draw a picture from scratch. Rimi had a lot of strange senses Maya didn’t even have names for. Maya could borrow Rimi’s sight (how did Rimi see?) and taste (yuck!) and sometimes even smell (the world was full of things that smelled awful when you got close to them!). They hadn’t shared other senses yet. Obviously Rimi saw shadows, but what about the rest of it?

  Benjamin hissed again, and Maya grabbed Rimi’s pencil, then looked up. A girl a couple of rows in front of them had turned and was staring back at her. It was Sibyl Katsaros, a slender dark-haired girl with glasses that magnified her gray-green eyes. She was wearing a green dress, when most of the girls in the room wore jeans, and she had a golden scarf wrapped around her neck.

  Maya smiled and shrugged. She hadn’t spoken with Sibyl in school yet. Gwenda had warned Maya when Maya first sat with the Janus House kids that being with them would kill her chance at a normal social life, but Maya figured the benefits outweighed the risks.