Extraordinary October

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Extraordinary October Page 16

by Diana Wagman


  She pulled out more shoes, more and more, hundreds of shoes it seemed like, piling them on the floor around our feet, tossing them over her shoulder into the back. Her plastic bag was like Mary Poppins’ carpetbag—more fit inside than seemed possible. Finally, she gave a little “ah ha!” and brought out a boot exactly like mine. It could have been mine, if I didn’t know they were both home in my closet. She reached inside the boot all the way down to the toe and shook the shoe. I heard a faint, metallic tinkling.

  “Got it,” she said. “Here.”

  She pulled something out of the boot in her closed fist. She turned to me and opened her hand. I know my mouth fell open. In her open palm was a necklace exactly like my necklace. Exactly.

  “Look familiar?” She cackled. “Let’s trade.”

  “No.” Hers had to be fake or something. It had come out of an old shoe.

  “They’re just the same.” She dropped hers into my palm. “See? Except yours means they know exactly where you are at every minute. Mine will protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “Your dad thinks you’re going to school, right?”

  How did she know? I held up the other necklace. It looked just like the one I had around my neck, but the one in my hand was cool, and the one around my neck was warm and getting warmer.

  The old lady tapped my shoulder. “Excuse me, your Highness. Look out the back window. Someone wants to keep track of where you’re going.”

  I ignored that she had called me ‘your Highness’ and twisted around to look back. A large black crow was flying along behind us, not too close, but definitely following us. As I watched, another one swooped in beside it. And through the window I heard the crow in front saying, “Look! Shiny things!” and the one in back say, “Don’t get distracted. Follow the necklace.” I looked at the bag lady, the shoe fairy, with alarm.

  “What do I do?”

  “Change with me,” she whispered.

  The man in the stocking cap turned around to look at us again. I tried to hide behind the seat, but the shoe fairy shook her head. “He’s nothing special,” she assured me. “Unless you think petty crime is special.” Then she looked at me. “You would know that if you tried. Look at him. Really look.”

  I stared at the back of the guy’s head. I began to get pictures, his donut for breakfast. His girlfriend sleeping. The pile of wallets and cell phones and crap he had stolen. He was a purse snatcher, not a troll. I could see his thoughts—and if I listened I could hear them. I smiled at the shoe fairy, but she nodded behind us.

  There were five crows behind us now. My hands were shaking as I took off my necklace and handed it to her. I put on hers and she put on mine. The new necklace was cool against my skin. The shoe fairy winced as she fastened the old one around her throat. “Hot, hot, hot,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I said. “But…” I had so many questions I didn’t know where to begin.

  All the shoes and clothing and stuffed animals were magically back in her bags as she smiled at me and patted my leg again, “Tell Walker hello.”

  “Walker. You know Walker. Oh, tell me, how do I find him?”

  “You know.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You know exactly how.” She tapped her forehead. “Think about it.” The bus slowed and stopped at a corner. “This is my stop!” She wheezed as she stood up.

  “Wait,” I said. “Please.”

  She nodded at the crows. There were more of them, a small flock circling the bus. “Thank goodness those birds aren’t very smart.” She waddled up the aisle.

  “Thank you,” I called to her, “Thank you. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Survive,” she said.

  She got off the bus slowly, as if her knees were bothering her, like any old woman. She started down the sidewalk and stopped and tottered over to the curb. I watched, curious, as she reached in her bag and pulled out a beat up green sneaker and dropped it on the side of the road. One shoe. The bus pulled away and I turned to watch her walk in the opposite direction. Miraculously, the crows followed her.

  18.

  School. It sounds just plain wrong to say it, but I was thrilled to be there. There was no way every student, teacher, administrator, guidance counselor, secretary, janitor, and cafeteria worker could be a fairy or a troll or possessed by demons. In fact, as I walked up to the big double doors, I reveled in the tedium and predictability. The ugly brick building was the same as always; the same cliques were gathered on the lawn out front; the same grass was dying trampled under their feet. I grinned as I started up the stairs, then I noticed that my fellow students seemed to be looking at me. All of them. The girls were watching me and whispering to each other. The boys were definitely checking me out. Jacob the jock whistled long and low.

  “Whoa, girl,” he said. “What happened to you?”

  “Nice ink.” A skater dude commented looking at my leg.

  “Your parents let you do that?” A nerdy girl couldn’t help but ask.

  I answered honestly. “Nothing they could do about it.”

  “Awesome,” Jacob said.

  “I love your skirt.” Rose sidled up next to me and linked her arm in mine.

  “Yeah. Great…skirt.” Jacob actually blushed.

  “Down, boy.” Belinda laughed at him.

  Okay, after being invisible for most of my school life, it felt surprisingly good to be getting so much attention. Of course looks don’t really matter and being a couple inches taller, a few pounds thinner, and even having flowers tattooed on my calf, did not change who I was as a person. If they liked me now, they should have liked me then. But in high school, that’s not the way it works. In my experience, to be noticed and popular you have to have all the shallowest attributes: clothes, hair, figure. I’d gone through twelve years of school mostly anonymously and I can admit I liked the envy and the admiration I was seeing on everyone’s face. Plus, the sensation I created wasn’t because I was a princess of anything or about to be a queen, it was just because I was hot.

  “See you at lunch,” Rose said as we split to go to our respective classes.

  Another popular girl, Audrey, appeared at my side. “You’ve been hiding out,” she said. “But now we can get to know each other.”

  She was very pretty and I knew she was smart too—in all the honors and AP classes—but she had snubbed me in English the beginning of the year and laughed at an overweight girl in gym class and generally been awful to everybody and I wasn’t going to let this opportunity go by.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I really don’t hang out with high school students.”

  The look on her face was priceless. The other students tittered. I sauntered down the hall. Jacob panted after me.

  “Hey,” he said. “Wanna ride home after school? I have my car.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. Was he kidding?

  “Or get together to study tonight?” He tried again. “We both have to do the WWI paper, right?”

  “What’s your name again?” I watched him deflate. “You still go to school here? Weren’t you supposed to graduate last year? Or the year before?”

  He was crushed. His jock friends whooped and laughed and I have to say I felt lousy. I mean he really was a jerk and a cliché jock, but he didn’t deserve that. And my mom had been saying all year that the reason he was so mean to me was because he liked me and didn’t know how to say it.

  “Hey.” I touched his arm and he jumped. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m busy today. But thank you.”

  “Okay. Another time.” He grinned.

  My mom would’ve been proud.

  My mom. Thinking about her reminded me of everything going on in my real life—whatever life that was. At school I had slipped into every girl’s fantasy, but it was time to snap out of it.

  The first bell rang. I scanned the group once looking for Green, but figured I’d find him at lunch for sure. As I hurried through the halls, kids stepped back for me
. The crowds seemed to part. There was something about me that height and a new skirt did not explain. The tattoo—which wasn’t a tattoo—was part of it, but there was more than that. I tried to smile at everyone and felt like a queen smiling at her subjects. I slipped into my first class just as the second bell rang. I was grateful for fifty quiet minutes to be alone with my thoughts. I checked my phone. Nothing from anybody.

  “I know graduation is only three months away,” Mr. Fleming was saying, “but this is no time to slack off. C’mon, people!”

  He went into a boring story he had told us before about someone who got their college acceptance rescinded because of lousy second semester grades. Whatever. I tuned him out. What had the shoe fairy meant when she said I knew how to contact Walker? I couldn’t remember him telling me anything to do—except giving me his cell phone number like anybody else. The windows were open in the class and I could hear some birds outside. Really hear them.

  “Pretzel crumbs,” one twittered.

  “Corn chips,” another peeped.

  “I love eating at the high school.”

  I laughed out loud and Seth, the guy in front of me, turned around. I smiled at him and he blushed. I’d known Seth since second grade, but he looked at me as if he’d never seen me before.

  The assistant principal, Ms. Garcia, knocked and entered. I held my breath, remembering when Trevor had come into class behind the principal, but Ms. Garcia just whispered something to Mr. Fleming and waited.

  “October?” he called. “You’re needed in the office.”

  The class did not look surprised. Any girl with a tattoo and an attitude like mine (even for one day) was obviously looking for trouble. I left my backpack on my desk and followed Ms. Garcia, and this time thirty-one pairs of eyes watched me go.

  Four days ago I had run out of class because of an itch. That itch was the beginning of the end of my old life. That itch had turned into this tattoo. And four days ago in this hallway, scratching my bare foot desperately, I had met Walker. Where was he now? Would I ever see him again? I tried to summon him with my mind, but I saw only a swirl of colors and heard only silence. I thought of his arms around me, the kiss I had felt in my knees, in my whole body. The kiss that had truly made the earth move. His blond curls, his ultra blue eyes, the v created at the neck of his button down shirt. That was all coming in loud and clear. I put one hand on the wall to steady myself.

  “Come along,” Ms. Garcia said. “Don’t dawdle.”

  I blinked back to reality. Her little feet in sensible black pumps clicked against the floor. I shuffled along behind. She was the academic assistant, the one who called your parents when you were flunking and gave out the awards when you won. That reminded me of Green. He was always winning some award or other.

  “Hey Ms. Garcia,” I caught up to her. “Do you know which lunch period Chris Lee has? Or what class he’s in now?”

  “Chris? He has first lunch.”

  “Thanks. He’s…helping me with my biology.”

  “He’s a very good student.”

  We had reached the office door. As she pushed it open, she smiled at me. Her eyes were kind and she reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze as I went past her. My stomach did a flip-flop. In tenth grade Aaron Goldsmith had been called out of class because his dad died in a car crash. I was going to be sick. Could my mom be dead? Was that why I hadn’t heard from her?

  Dad got to his feet when he saw me. “October, thank God you’re all right.”

  “Is Mom okay?”

  “What? Sure. Uh… you didn’t answer your phone…” He trailed off.

  “I turn my phone off in school.” I smiled at Ms. Garcia. “I’m supposed to.”

  “Of course you do.” Dad didn’t smile. “You forgot your lunch.” He thrust a brown paper bag toward me.

  I wanted to give him a hug and squeeze my father back into this body—because that was definitely not my dad. He hadn’t once called me “kiddo” or “pumpkin.” He never brought me my lunch if I forgot it. And blotches, those same red welts, were popping up on my hands. I stepped away from him and noticed him staring blankly at my necklace.

  Ms. Garcia noticed it too. “That’s quite beautiful,” she said.

  “Thank you. It was a birthday gift—from him.” I couldn’t quite bring myself to say ‘Dad.’

  “Did you take it off for any reason?” the Dad-thing asked me.

  “Oh,” I said as if I just remembered. “Right. I took it off to wash my face. My make-up smeared.” I lied, but I wanted him to think it was still working. “Left it in the ladies room. Thank God it was still there when I went back.”

  “Leave it on,” he said sternly. “I mean it. Do not take it off. Do you hear me?”

  “Okay, okay. I—”

  “Well, then—all cleared up,” Ms. Garcia interrupted, trying to avoid an unpleasant family moment. “I understand your worry, Mr. Fetterhoff.” She walked us to the office door. “We have lots of parents calling to check in.” She turned to me. “You could check your phone between classes, just to set your father’s mind at ease.”

  “Good idea.” I turned to go. “Bye, Dad. See you later.”

  “Wait,” he said. “Your lunch.” He handed it to me. “Be sure to eat every bite.”

  In your dreams, I wanted to say. Instead I took it, smiled, and waved as I left.

  The hallway was deserted and I leaned against the wall and breathed deeply the sour smell of school. The hives on my hands disappeared as quickly as they had come. The shoe fairy had been right, the old necklace was a tracking device because obviously the Dad-thing had lost me and gotten worried. My phone—in my backpack in the classroom—was on. I knew he hadn’t tried to call or text me. He was keeping close tabs on me, but I didn’t know why. I had made my promise and I hadn’t broken it—so far.

  It wouldn’t be long before he figured out the necklace wasn’t working anymore. If I was going to find Green and then Walker, I had to hurry. I thought about the fairytales I’d read as a kid, Cinderella, Snow White, the Snow Queen, hoping for some clue how to solve this mess. I wished I could just kiss Walker and we would wake up in a world without Madame Gold, but I had kissed him and he had kissed me and nothing had happened except to get me all hot and bothered. The shoe fairy, like a witch by the side of the road, had given me a gift, but unlike the princess in a fairytale I hadn’t done anything in return. I’d been mean and told her to move. “Sorry,” I whispered. “Survive,” I thought I heard her say again. I would do my best.

  I threw the lunch bag in the trashcan and headed for the science rooms. Green could be there with the other smart kids taking AP Chem or something-ology. My cell phone vibrated. Already, I thought. The dad-monster was checking on me already. I got out my phone and looked at the number. It was one I didn’t recognize. I took a deep breath and answered anyway.

  “Hello?”

  There was static. I almost hung up, but then I heard my mother’s voice.

  “October?”

  The connection was terrible.

  “Mom!” I almost started to cry I was so relieved to hear from her. “Where are you?”

  Every other word was dropping out. “…Helping… a special mushroom… Madame Gold…” Then she said something about meeting her somewhere.

  “Where? Where?”

  “You know…”

  “I can’t understand you.”

  “You … out…. Danger here… Have to go.” And she hung up.

  I didn’t have a clue where to meet her. She said I knew, but I knew nothing. Being taller and having red hair didn’t make me any smarter. I had to find Green, and he would help me find Walker and Walker would help me find my mom. He had to.

  I ran to the chem labs. Empty. It was hours until the first lunch period. I went up and down the hallways looking in each classroom. What if Green wasn’t at school? What would I do?

  As I ran past the school’s front doors, I saw my father getting out of his car and heading back in.
He had already figured out the necklace wasn’t working. I looked around. There had to be somewhere to hide. Obviously not in a classroom. Not outside under the breezeway where I was likely to be seen. I ducked into the library and forced myself to walk nonchalantly past the librarian and turn into the stacks. Then I bolted to the shelves farthest from the door. The fluorescent light that had gone out over my and Trevor’s heads was on again. For once, the school had fixed something right away. And I really wished they hadn’t.

  The light flickered, gave a pop, and went out. Just as it had before. Had Trevor done that before? Had I just done it myself? Was it some troll ability to make the world as dark as possible? I looked at the next light and wished it would go out too. I concentrated. It went out. Awesome, I thought. Truly awesome. I began to concentrate on the next one.

  “If you make them all go out, it’ll look suspicious.”

  I jumped. Green stood behind me with another armload of books. I should have thought of looking for him in the library—the perfect place for a nerd to spend his time.

  “You can make them go on, too.” He smiled up at me. “Hello, October.”

  “Green. I mean, Chris. I’m happy to see you.”

  “You are? Nice to see you too. We have to leave now.”

  “I’m supposed to meet my mom.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “But I don’t know where.”

  Green cocked his head and looked at me with a funny, quizzical expression—like a dog. “You don’t?” he asked.

  “The phone kept dropping out. And there was a ton of static. I couldn’t understand her.”

  He continued to look at me, puzzled.

  “I didn’t hear what she said.”

  “But she’s your mother.”

  “So?”

  “You two have always had a good connection.” When I frowned, he continued. “Think. October, you know exactly where she is. Just think about it.”

  That was exactly what the Shoe Fairy had told me about Walker. I closed my eyes. I tried to concentrate on my mother. A picture began to emerge. She was standing shin deep in water and there were cattails and grasses all around her. A marsh of some kind. It looked vaguely familiar, but it could have been any marsh in the world.

 

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