by Diana Wagman
“Enough!” I had never heard my mother sound so imperious.
He started to say something more, then he bowed his head. “We’ll leave you, your lowness.”
They all kind of bowed and began to walk away. My mother said goodbye wistfully, with such sorrow in her voice that it hurt me to hear it.
“Wait!” I said.
All three stopped and turned to me. I wanted to say don’t leave, or don’t leave my mother, or don’t leave her so unhappy, but none of that was exactly right. I wanted to ask them who they were and why I felt drawn to them. Instead I just shook my head. The girl bent over me and smiled.
“I see the resemblance,” she said. “When the time comes, ask Russula what you should do.” She looked up at my mom.
“Her name is Ruth,” I said firmly. “Ruth Fetterhoff.”
She backed away. My mother put her hand on my shoulder. She was smiling, but tears were spilling down her cheeks. When I looked back, the three visitors were gone. We got in the car and kept driving, my parents very subdued. During the trip, whenever I asked who those people were or why my mom had been crying, she and my dad both said I’d been sleeping and dreamed it. A couple years later, I was spending the day in my mom’s lab and I learned Russula was the name of a rare and particularly beautiful family of mushroom. I asked my mother if that was really her name and she just laughed.
That encounter came back to me as I was speeding down Beverly Boulevard in a red VW with a girl named for a mushroom. Enoki looked a lot like those people at the rest stop so long ago. Trevor did too, come to think of it, and maybe that was why he gave me such an anxious feeling in my stomach. Except he wore shoes and went to school and there was no mushroom called a Trevor.
“Where are you taking me?” She didn’t answer. “Let me out!”
“Can’t,” she said. “I have my orders.”
The green lights continued. We were going faster and faster.
“My parents will call the police.”
She shrugged. I tried another tactic.
“Where’s Trevor? I want to see him.”
“I know what’s best for Trevor. Eenie meenie miney mo and you are not it.”
“Are you really his sister?”
She sneered. “A lot of people think you’re hot stuff, but I don’t.” She grunted a kind of laugh. “To me you’re just a weirdo. A freak.”
“That’s funny, coming from you, Stinky.”
“Do you have any powers at all?” she continued. “You’re not beautiful. Or strong. Nothing special that I can see.”
I didn’t know what she meant by powers and maybe I wasn’t special, but I was not going to be killed or kidnapped or sold into white slavery—whatever this dirty, smelly girl had in mind. Breaking every bone in my body was preferable to that. She slowed a little to turn a corner and quickly I opened my door and jumped out of the car. I expected it to hurt worse than it did. Must have been the adrenalin because I was on my feet in a flash and running down the street away from her. I heard the screech of her brakes and the high whine of her little car going fast in reverse, but I was not worried. I was fast. Faster than I had ever been before. I ran five blocks and I wasn’t even tired. Fear, I decided, was a wonderful thing. It made me faster, stronger, able to leap tall buildings in a single—BAM! I was tackled from the side. I hit the sidewalk hard, knocking all the wind from my lungs. Then I was dragged off the sidewalk and down an alley. The pond scum smell was stronger, mixed with dumpster garbage. I struggled, but the two people who had me were strong. I saw their bare feet and hairy toes, shaggy hair like Trevor and Enoki.
“Let her go.” It was Enoki’s voice. They dropped me hard on the alley cement.
Enoki squatted beside me. “You didn’t have to do that. We’re here. We have arrived at our destination.”
She gestured at a small neon sign reading, “The Underground” over a gray door. She gave me a hand up and even brushed me off. Her two friends or whatever they were waited.
“We’re going to a bar? I’m not old enough.” Plus it was mortifying to be in my pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.
“Trevor’s waiting.”
She dragged me behind her through the gray door. Loud heavy metal music pulsated. I was in a club filled with people dancing. It smelled like a locker room crossed with that disgusting pond odor. It was dark with only a couple of red and blue lights moving around in time to the music. Everybody held drinks or bottles of beer. And quickly I realized everybody looked the same. Not like they were all indie or grunge or metal types who shopped at the same stores, but truly they all looked alike as if they were all related. Short, muscled, dark hair, eyes and skin in various shades of olive. Their faces were different and some were taller or thinner than others, but they were incredibly similar. They all looked like the people at the rest stop. And Enoki. And Trevor.
Where the hell was I? A family reunion?
Enoki pulled me toward the bar. A tall, narrow cage, hung in the corner. Inside I saw a skinny, pale, very tall and angular blue-haired girl in a bikini—definitely not related to the people below her—inside the cage. She was in very skimpy clothing and her skin looked lavender, the color of a fading sunset. She would have been beautiful, but the bartender, a giant Enoki-type, offered her a beer and she shook the bars desperate for it. She wanted that beer, badly. I could see it. It was like a drug. She reached between the bars for the bottle. The bartender pulled on a rope, raising the cage higher above the crowd. She kept reaching for the beer.
“After you dance, sweetheart. Dance first. Then beer.”
Reluctantly, but obediently she began to dance and the crowd went wild. She was stunning to look at, but so different than the bar patrons and they jeered and insulted her with words like “waif” and “stick” and “fairy.” Fairy seemed to be the worst word of all. The girl danced with her eyes closed, opening them only occasionally to make sure the bartender still had her beer.
A cry went up across the room. I fought my way there. Another slim, tall person—a guy with curly green hair and blue skin—was in another cage. He was so drunk he couldn’t stand up and everyone stood around laughing at him. They splashed him with beer. Someone stood on a table and poured a drink onto the floor of his cage and everybody cheered as he lapped it up. Like the girl in the cage, he would do anything for that drink.
“Hey,” I said. “Stop it.”
The group turned to me. They looked me up and down. They frowned. A girl said, “You smell funny.”
Me? The place smelled like a hill of fertilizer soaked in beer. “Leave him alone,” I said.
“He likes it,” the girl said. “We’re just giving him what he wants.”
“And you wonder why your dad is fat?” A guy spoke in my ear.
I turned. It was Trevor.
“Wanna’ dance?”
His face was hard and smooth and not like it was at school. I felt the usual weird pull toward him, but when he took my hand I felt something else—something a lot like fear.
“What did you mean about my dad?” He didn’t seem to hear me. He pulled me into the center of the room. He was dancing, but I wasn’t.
“Do you know where Luisa is?” I shouted. “Your sister said you know.”
“Dance with me.” He smiled and his face softened. “Then we’ll go. I promise.”
He put both hands on my waist and drew me to him. The rhythm of the music was pounding, so loud and deep I could feel it in my feet and up into my stomach. I couldn’t help but move to it. Trevor nodded, grinned. Some friend of his danced over and handed him one of the neon drinks. Trevor took a big sip and licked his lips. The drink made his tongue glow in the dark. Then he offered it to me.
“No thanks.” I wasn’t interested in drinking. Especially after seeing those desperate models.
“Please?”
His friend stayed next to him, watching me.
“No, really. No thanks.”
“It’s delicious,” Trevor said.
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nbsp; “Not tonight.”
“You’ll like it.” He pushed the drink toward me. “I bet you’ll love it.”
He held it under my nose and I have to admit it smelled fantastic. Like fruit and chocolate and whipped cream and butter cookies, the best dessert in the world, plus the faint scent of the forbidden. It was intoxicating. I looked down into the frothy, electric pink concoction. How could anything that smelled so good be bad for me?
Trevor called to everyone. “She’s about to take her first drink ever!”
A girl stopped to watch. And a couple of guys. Pretty soon a whole crowd was gathered. I looked at their faces, all with pointy chins and big brown eyes, all wearing the same expression they had when they watched the girl in the cage. Enoki was there too. She and Trevor exchanged a smile.
“Who is she?” someone asked.
“My future,” Trevor answered.
“She’s October,” Enoki said. “The one and only October.”
There were some exclamations, a couple of ahs and ohs. I’d never gotten that reaction before. They backed up, made a circle around us. Trevor held out the drink. I wanted to take it so badly my hands trembled. But I hesitated.
“C’mon,” Trevor said. “For me. I just want to see what will happen.”
I thought maybe a drink would help me. People said alcohol calmed the nerves. And I was more than nervous.
“Hand it to me,” I said to Trevor.
He smiled, the crowd leaned forward, and I brought the glass to my lips.
“Do this,” Trevor said, “and I’ll be yours forever.”
He shook his shaggy hair back and his eyes glittered in the dim light. He put his warm hand on my hip and I got that funny, anxious feeling again. Nervous.
“Then we’ll go?” I asked.
“Of course. If you want to.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I want you. I want you so much.”
It felt good to be wanted. He was cute, strong, and had fallen in love with me the moment he saw me. I never thought anyone would feel that way about me. I lifted the glass. Enoki led the crowd in a chant, “Drink. Drink. Drink.” They were smiling, nodding, and clapping and as I looked around I thought they all looked lovely. It was good to have friends. I wanted them to like me. One drink and then I would go find Luisa. One drink just to help me relax. I smiled back.
“No!”
I looked up. It was the girl in the cage. “No!” She said again. The bartender growled and threw a beer at her. It hit the floor and broke. I was shocked to watch her slurping alcohol off the pieces of broken glass. When she looked at me again, her tongue was bleeding. “Don’t start,” she whispered to me.
Then, all the way on the other side of the room, I saw a small person hop up on a stool. Green! What was he doing here? He was too small and way too young to be in this crowd. He waved and gestured for me to follow him.
“October!” he called.
My head cleared. Following him seemed like a very good thing to do. I handed the glass back to Trevor.
“I have to go.”
Trevor was instantly furious, his rage turning his face purple. “We were having so much fun!”
My hands itched. I looked down. Once again they were covered in red welts. I looked across the crowd at Green. He was like an island and I was drowning. I needed to get to him.
“See you tomorrow in school.” I didn’t listen to Trevor’s reply and swam through the crowd toward Green. Enoki tried to grab me, other people pulled at me, hanging onto my clothing, but I brushed them off. I heard the girl in the cage scream. I didn’t look back.
Green ran up some stairs leading out of the club and I took them two at a time. “Green!” His shiny black hair flashed under a single hanging light bulb in the dark hallway. “Chris! Wait!” He went through a door and let it shut behind him. I pulled it open, stepped through, and suddenly I was falling blind through warm sand. The same sand I thought I’d been in when I ran into the school wall with Walker. I tried to call Green’s name, but my mouth filled and I choked. I coughed and waved my arms frantically. Then I smelled Chinese food.
10.
The smell of Chinese food—that delicious, oily, soy saucy smell—saved me. I’m not kidding. I took a deep sniff, relaxed, and the sand melted away. I opened my eyes and found myself in the booth of my favorite Chinese restaurant. The same red vinyl seat covers, the same thick white tablecloths and squat glass jars of hot mustard and duck sauce. I saw the waiter I’d known since I was a little kid, Mr. Bob, in the back by the kitchen. This was the only restaurant my parents would go to and I had always loved it. Everything looked completely normal, but I knew it couldn’t be. How had I gotten there? Where was the club? My mouth was watering. The peanuts I’d eaten back in my room seemed like a year ago.
A dog barked. I knew dogs weren’t allowed in restaurants. It barked again and I heard its toenails clicking toward me on the tile floor. “We’re here,” the dog said. “Hey, hey, here we are.” First I’d been able to understand birds, now I was translating dog speak. I loved animals, but no one could talk to them for real. I turned and looked over my shoulder. Walker was walking toward me with a fluffy, black dog at his side. I was so happy to see him. Relieved, safe, all those good feelings he gave me. And then I was just confused. What the hell was going on?
The dog jumped up beside me on the bench and licked my face. “Nice to meet you, happy to see you, isn’t this place great?” and its tail was wagging. It had the sweetest dog breath I’d ever smelled.
“Down, Oberon, down,” Walker said. “On the floor. Sit.”
Oberon got off the bench and sat obediently, but I didn’t need to translate to understand the dog didn’t want to. He was wiggling back and forth, his tail going ninety miles a minute. I gave him a pat on the head and I saw that the red bumps on my hand were gone.
Walker sat down across from me. He smiled and his blue eyes were filled with concern.
I didn’t want to, but I started to cry. “What’s wrong with me?”
“You need to eat.” He gestured for Mr. Bob. “Isn’t this your favorite place?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m trying.”
He took my hands and my breath caught in my throat. That touch. That tingle only he produced.
“Tell me,” he said. “What happened to you tonight?”
I tried to stop crying, but the tears kept falling. “I met this girl, Enoki, Trevor’s sister, and she told me she’d help me find Luisa, but I jumped out of her car and then she pulled me into a club. A horrible club and everybody looked like her except these poor skinny alcoholics in cages.”
Walker spoke quietly and his eyes narrowed. “In cages?”
“The bartender made this poor girl dance before he’d give her a drink. And she did it.” I didn’t tell him about her licking alcohol off the broken glass, it was too awful. “The guy did whatever they asked too, just so he could have a beer.”
Walker squeezed my hands so hard it hurt. He was furious.
“We should call the cops,” I said. “It’s not right. It isn’t. I tried to stop them.”
“You did? Oh, October.” The way he looked at me made me blush.
“But then Trevor was there, and he and everybody wanted me to take a sip of a drink, this bright, glow in the dark kind of drink. It smelled so good and I almost did, almost, I wanted to, but then I saw Green—Chris Lee, you know, from the experiment—and I followed him out and I fell into this sand.” I shook my head, that couldn’t be true. “And I ended up here.” I looked around. “That club must be nearby. Maybe through the kitchen? In the alley behind?”
Mr. Bob walked up to the table with a tray of food. I was mortified when my stomach grumbled. Mr. Bob put down all my favorite dishes, Kung Pao Tofu and Garlic Spinach and Sesame Noodles. He put a dish of beef and broccoli on the floor for Oberon. Maybe Oberon was a service dog.
“October.” Mr. Bob smiled at me. “Eat. Talk later. Eat now.”
That�
��s what he had always said when I was a kid. I guess I was a chatterbox. But hearing the familiar phrase just emphasized all the craziness that was going on. The tears began again. Mr. Bob handed me another napkin.
“What is going on?” I said. “I’m hearing voices. I’m falling through sand.” I looked around. “None of the people in this restaurant look normal. Except you, Mr. Bob, and you, Walker. And since when do you allow dogs in here?”
It was true. The other tables contained the oddest collection of diners. Skin rusty brown, or gray like a kitten, or almost green, or very pink, wild hair, weird noses and everybody tiny and short or long and tall. There were a few exquisitely beautiful people, something like the poor creatures in the cages, but healthy and happy and drinking tea. It was not a clientele I had seen there before, and my parents had been taking me to Big Wok since I was born.
Mr. Bob said, “I’ll get you more napkins. You’re going to need them.”
Walker spooned food onto my plate. “Here,” he said. “Have a bite at least.”
I picked up my chopsticks thinking I’d have one polite bite, but once I started I couldn’t stop. I was ravenous. It was so good and he was right, the food made me feel better. It was hard to cry and eat at the same time.
“Whose voice?” Walker asked. “Do you know whose voice you hear?”
“It must be me, my inner voice, but it doesn’t sound like me. She keeps telling me to go find Luisa and that I know where she is. She also said Luisa is missing because of me.”
“Don’t listen to that voice.”
“It’s ridiculous, right? It’s just guilt speaking. I wish I could find Luisa.”
“But you can’t. You shouldn’t.”
I looked at him.
“They’ll find her,” he said.
He sounded so sure. I took a deep breath. I put more food on my plate. Walker hadn’t eaten anything. “Don’t you want something?”
“Save me some noodles.”
“Better eat them fast.”
He laughed. And, even as confused and worried as I was feeling, I did too. I decided whatever he told me I could deal with. I just wanted the truth.