“Unharmed? Cobb ripped out my heart, and I feel like I’ve been outside with no coat on for all of January.”
Aunt Primrose and Riley looked at each other and started to giggle.
“What are you two laughing at? Did I mention that I don’t need to breathe anymore?”
“And, don’t forget, you’re starting to smell bad.” Riley chortled. Aunt Primrose covered her mouth with a large hand.
“I don’t see what’s so funny. You can go back, but I’m dead. I’ll be stuck in Nightside forever.”
Aunt Primrose stopped laughing and moved closer to him. “Who’s been filling your head with that utter nonsense? Surely you haven’t been listening to that rag of a boy, Cobb, all this time.” Her stern demeanor returned somewhat. “Take off your shirt, and let’s see how dead you really are.”
Dekker struggled out of his shirt, and Aunt Primrose leaned in close to inspect his wound. She poked and prodded with one sausage-like finger inside the hole where his heart had been.
“See? I told you,” Dekker said. “All I feel is a tiny tickle. I’m pretty well dead, aren’t I?”
“You’re quite saucy for someone in your condition. We should be glad of that, I suppose. It’s probably what’s kept you from dying completely.”
Riley tried to look into Dekker’s chest cavity. “Auntie, aren’t you sort of freaked out by all of this? You should be back at your house doing, well, doing your stuff, shouldn’t you?”
She looked over her shoulder at Riley. “What stuff? Knitting and napping? I don’t see why this should bother me any more than it does you.”
“But Auntie, you’re so old.”
Aunt Primrose snorted. “That’s right, I’m old. Older than you can imagine. And old people are tough. Do you know how I survived? By being tough.” She leaned down to look closely at Dekker’s chest again. “Now tell me, does this hurt?” Aunt Primrose squeezed something inside the cavity, and fireworks exploded inside his brain.
“Owww!” he yelled as he tried to squirm away, but her strong arm held him. Gradually, the pain subsided. “What did you do that for?”
“Fortunately for you, you have a tiny bit of heart left, enough to keep your spirit at least partially tethered to your body. I had to make sure you could still feel it.”
Dekker rubbed his chest gingerly. “Well, I did.”
“There’s still hope for you then. Come along, you two, up onto the jigger. Quickly now. We’ve spent enough time in the dark, especially you, Dekker. If we don’t get you home soon, your mother is going to start asking questions you don’t want to answer.”
“Won’t she be asking questions anyway?” said Dekker.
“First things first, young man. Take the other end of the pump lever, Dekker. Moving will keep you from getting any stiffer.” Dekker put his shirt back on, and he and Riley climbed up onto the handcar with Aunt Primrose’s help.
“Riley, you are to sit in the front and smell for flowers. You must tell us the instant you smell them, or we shall miss our stop.” Aunt Primrose resumed her position at one end of the pump lever, and Dekker took the other. Soon they were clipping along at a decent pace. Riley sat very straight at the front, legs crossed.
Dekker took a breath and lowered his voice. “What is this place, really?”
“You do deserve some sort of answer, I suppose. Think of it this way: just as a button holds two parts of a shirt together, Button Hill is one of the places that holds the world of the living firmly in place against the world of the dead. The borderland is thin here, so thin that some places appear in both Dayside and Nightside.”
“Like your house and the train station,” Dekker said.
“Indeed. My duty is to keep those two sides in balance and manage the passage of the dead from one side to the other.”
“Then why couldn’t you help me before?”
“The Nightclock is one of the powers that be, an old power. It cannot be bargained with. Once it had marked you and Cobb, I could no longer interfere until your agreement had run its course. When you foolishly wound the skull, the old well passage between the sides must have opened briefly, long enough for Cobb to slip through and take your sister. Watery places are the most commutable, like the pond in the garden. Regardless, if it weren’t for Captain Tom, I don’t think you’d be in as fine shape as you are.”
“Oh,” said Dekker.
“I smell them!” shouted Riley. “It’s just like your garden back home.”
“This is our stop,” announced Aunt Primrose. Dekker let go of the handle. “No, keep pumping,” she instructed.
“I thought you said to stop,” said Dekker, a look of confusion spread across his face.
“Watch and learn, young man.” She rummaged in her cloth bag and gently withdrew a clutch of small pink flowers, open in the shape of little cups. “Ah, here we are. The archway we are about to pass through will take you to the place your spirit is drawn to most strongly. If what you want is to go home, then home you shall be. But first you must avail yourselves of the Oenothera.” She gave each of them a handful of the pink blossoms.
“Huh?” Dekker said.
“Did they teach you nothing of importance at your city school? Oenothera is Latin for evening primrose. It is a powerful plant, beautiful but common, and has been used for centuries by those in need of crossing over.”
“I don’t see any arch, Auntie.”
“Patience, child. Evening primrose is a pathway to sleep. It’s essential for crossing back safely to Dayside. Unless you care to chance going back the way you arrived? I warn you, the return trip is somewhat less agreeable.”
“Less agreeable? No thanks! What do we do?” asked Riley.
“Eat these blossoms, both of you. The arch will know the place to which you are connected. You will travel there, wherever that is.” She looked into Dekker’s eyes. “It only works if you have a living spirit.”
“That’s why Cobb needed my heart.”
“What does that mean, Auntie?” asked Riley.
“It means it is a worry for another time. Now, be sure to respond to the flower with honesty, young man. I can help you within my own territory. What is to be found elsewhere, I cannot say.”
The cheer Dekker had felt vanished, and suddenly he felt very alone. He swallowed his handful of pink blossoms. They tasted of licorice and left a smoky taste in the back of his throat.
“I see it!” cried Riley. Not far ahead, a tall archway made of a single row of stone blocks curved over the tracks. It looked ancient and seemed oddly out of place standing in the middle of the field, connected to nothing.
Riley looked back at her brother. “I better see you on the other side. You promised you would play beauty salon with me.”
Dekker tried to smile, but his face felt frozen, and he wasn’t sure if his smile looked like a smile at all.
Aunt Primrose put a hand on Dekker’s shoulder. “You have a hard road ahead if you come back to Button Hill. But I can teach you, if you can stand it.”
Dekker nodded. “Thanks. For everything. I mean it.”
She nodded. “See you soon, Dekker.” She popped a flower into her mouth as they passed under the arch.
Dekker realized this was his chance to escape Button Hill and go back to his home in the city. Or anywhere, really. Anywhere he could imagine. He closed his eyes and tried to picture his old room, but he couldn’t keep it in his mind. What he saw instead was the house at Button Hill. He took a breath, and warmth spread through him as if he were in a bathtub that was filling with hot water. The feeling shocked him—as if he’d been cold forever. He thought about his mom and his sister and Aunt Primrose. When he opened his eyes, he smiled. Ahead of him, the dawn glowed in a watercolor sky.
Twelve
The sun rose over the trees at the side of the yard, and a robin chirped from the roof of the house. Dekker looked around. Riley and Aunt Primrose were standing beside him in the garden.
“We made it,” he said. Riley burst
into tears and pressed herself against Dekker’s chest. He put his arms around her awkwardly.
Aunt Primrose cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but before we can go on, we need to take care of one small but important matter.”
“What’s that?” he said, looking up from his sister’s hug.
“The issue of your living death. It won’t do for anyone to see your current condition. And I expect your mother will be home at any moment, if she’s not already here.”
“She’s not coming till the weekend,” cried Riley.
“Young lady, you may have arrived in daylight, but do not assume you have been on the other side for one night only. There are some places that are always in darkness.”
“No wonder I’m so hungry,” Riley moaned. She started rooting through her backpack. “Hey, where are all my fizzing candies? And where’s Cuddles?”
“What do you mean, my living death? Like, I’m a zombie? You never told me that’s what was going to happen!”
“Oh dear, I thought you understood,” Aunt Primrose said, her eyes intent on a bush with yellow flowers. “That is the unfortunate consequence of returning from Nightside without your heart.”
Aunt Primrose snipped off a sprig of yellow flowers with her shears and held it near Dekker’s chest. “No, too dainty.”
Dekker sank to his knees. “This can’t be happening.”
“Why ever not? It happens to more people than you may realize. Think about Uncle Doug with the skin condition.”
“No way. He’s dead too?” cried Riley.
“Undead is different than dead. It’s an important distinction. Hmm, these might do—yes.” She turned to the tomatoes on the other side of the path and twisted off a green one the size of Dekker’s fist. She presented it to Dekker. “Your replacement.”
His head was reeling. “Wait, it’s all going too fast. I’m dead, then I’m undead, and now you’re replacing me with a vegetable.”
Aunt Primrose gave him a scornful glance. “Not you, only your heart.” She turned to Riley. “Go inside and fetch your brother a clean shirt and a pair of pants.”
“Aww, but I want to watch this part. And what if I see Mom?”
“Manners, please. Your mother will find out eventually, but try to avoid her if you can. I trust you both hung all your clothes properly, as you were asked?”
Riley kicked at a pebble with her toe. “Fine, I’ll go.”
“Try the box marked clothes in my closet,” muttered Dekker.
Aunt Primrose waited until Riley had dashed up the path to the house, then said, “Your most pressing problem is that your body is decaying. Only by some power of Nightside that I do not fully understand, and by your own formidable stubbornness, have you hung on for this long. Remove your shirt. This tomato will temporarily restore some of your body’s liveliness. You have to replace it every day; we’ll tell your mother you’ve taken an interest in gardening.”
“You’re replacing my heart with a green tomato?”
“You need it to survive until we can retrieve the rest of your heart. I believe we may be able to get it back. Plus, tomatoes are robust. You should be thankful they grow so plentifully here. Or would you rather watch your arms and legs rot over the next week or two?”
“Okay, I’ll do it—I was only kidding.”
“It may feel a bit uncomfortable while it takes root.” Aunt Primrose guided the stem into the cavity in Dekker’s chest, then pushed the tomato firmly into place. He felt a stab of pain, but he gritted his teeth and kept quiet. “There, all done,” Aunt Primrose said.
Almost immediately Dekker felt his chest getting warmer, and a terrible itch spread across his skin. He reached to scratch it, but Aunt Primrose slapped his hand away. “Leave it,” she said. “You’re likely to make something fall off. In Dayside time, you were nearly dead for days. Dekker watched in amazement as the hole in his chest slowly closed, leaving a fuzzy patch of green in its place.
“Pay attention now. There are some things you must remember if you want to survive. Most important, your body no longer takes well to ill-considered behavior. The surest way to rot off a toe or ear is to indulge in bad behavior. Some say you can even reverse the process by performing acts of kindness.”
“No way—you’re making that up.”
Aunt Primrose arched an eyebrow. “Have it your way then. Try something nasty and see what happens.”
“Sorry.”
“Your summer study program begins immediately. Now that you belong as much in Nightside as you do here, you are susceptible to all sorts of new dangers. You must learn to confront them if you wish to retrieve your heart.”
Dekker’s eyes widened in alarm. “Not a Nightside school like Harper went to!”
Aunt Primrose raised one eyebrow and looked sternly down at him. “Whatever gave you such a preposterous idea? Harper is a creature of both night and day, and as such attended what schools her parents saw fit. For now, you belong to the day, and I shall be your tutor. This isn’t a game, young man. Oh,” she said, snapping her fingers, “and no more eating, and especially no drinking, and keep out of the shower. You must stay as dry and bacteria-free as possible. Getting wet or filling your belly is the quickest way to pick up an infestation of maggots or bottle flies.”
Dekker grimaced. “That’s just sick.”
Riley raced back into the garden. She dumped a clean T-shirt and a pair of jeans at Dekker’s feet. “What’d I miss?”
“None of your business,” snapped Dekker. Aunt Primrose glared at him. “I mean, nothing, dear sister. Thanks for the clean clothes.”
Riley curtsied. “You’re welcome, zombie boy.”
Aunt Primrose stepped in front of Dekker and looked sternly at Riley. “There’ll be none of that from you, young lady, especially around your mother. Your job is to help your brother conceal his condition. He did save your life, after all.”
The sound of barking came from the house, and they heard the door slam. “Are you there, kids?” Dekker’s mom called from the verandah.
“We’re here, Mom,” answered Riley.
Aunt Primrose inspected Dekker before he went in. “You’re getting some color back; that’s a good sign. But if your mother starts to notice, you’ll have to say you’re sick, and stay in bed for a few days until you liven up a bit. We’ll have to think of an illness for you to contract. Diabetes might do the trick. Possibly liver disease if your face stays so yellow.”
“What?”
“No time to waste. Let’s get you inside before you get too much sun. Heat is your enemy as well.”
Ranger bounded through the raspberry canes and put his paws up on Dekker’s shoulders. After thoroughly licking Dekker’s face, Ranger ran around in a little circle, then lay on his back and waited for Riley to rub his tummy.
Dekker gulped. “Well, here goes nothing. Time to see Mom.” He turned to Aunt Primrose. “Thanks for everything.”
“Humph,” she said, looking pleased. “The sunflowers need tending, and since neither of you is in any condition to help me, I shall have to do them myself.” She turned and walked away.
Riley gave her brother’s arm a quick squeeze. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
When they entered the kitchen, their mother was setting out a plate of fried eggs and toast for each of them. “How was your week with Aunt Primrose?” she asked. “I tried calling, but no one ever picked up.”
“Pretty boring,” said Dekker.
“Yeah, Auntie made us hear all about Button Hill, and me and Dekker had chores in the garden, plus there were panties in the bathroom that were the biggest ones I ever saw—for real, Mom!”
“Enough,” their mom said, smiling. “Oh, before I forget, someone called for you this morning, Dekker. A girl. It was right after I got here. The antique phone in the basement kept ringing and ringing. I didn’t even think it worked anymore. It’s pretty early for friends to be calling.”
“A girl? I don’t have any frien
ds who are girls.”
His mother wrinkled her brow, trying to remember. “There was a lot of static on the line, but I think she said her name was Harper. She said something about a music box too. Dekker, did you hear me? Are you feeling all right? You look pale.” She stretched out her hand to feel his forehead, but he leaned back, out of reach.
“It’s nothing to worry about, Mom. I didn’t sleep so good while you were gone,” said Dekker. Riley snorted, and he scowled in her direction.
“Oh honey, you were worrying.”
“Will we be able to go home soon?” asked Dekker.
His mother bit her lip. “Well, we’re going to be here for a while yet.”
“How long is a while?” Dekker asked, tilting back on the legs of his chair.
She took a deep breath, and suddenly she looked small and nervous. “How do you feel about starting school in Button Hill? My classes are going well, but I found out I’ll have to take more in the fall.”
Dekker groaned. “This is so not fair. What about my life?”
At that moment Aunt Primrose came into the kitchen and made a hiccuping sort of sound, like she had swallowed a laugh. “Now Dekker, none of that. You heard your mother. What must be, must be, and complaining will be of no help to anyone.”
Dekker’s mom’s cell phone began to buzz. “It’s work,” she said. “I have to take it.” She stood up and left the kitchen through the swinging door.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Aunt Primrose turned on him. “What’s this about you having a life? I think that may be overstating things, or have you forgotten already? A life is precisely what you lack. You ought to thank your lucky stars for a built-in excuse to stay put.”
“I get it, Aunt Primrose.” Dekker spoke more quietly. “I just wish things could go back to the way they were.”
She put her callused hand gently on his shoulder. “I am sorry for that. But your old world is gone now, and you’ve got to put it behind you. Now, what’s this about a girl calling you?”
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