“Haven’t you heard?” said Mia. “Her parents had already booked a family vacation over spring break. They’re making her go, and she can’t come to Sweden.”
I let out a low whistle. And I thought I had problems. At least I was going. Then it hit me – just because something wasn’t perfect didn’t mean I had to feel miserable. I’d make this trip work.
I’d spend every moment I could with my friends, and as for Sookie, well, she’d just have to find a way to keep herself amused on Aunt Hildegaard’s farm.
So I made a deal with myself, a deal to have fun no matter what. Then the clouds in the sky rolled away and the sun lit the courtyard outside the cafeteria. Sun shone through the glass doors, lighting up the drab cafeteria and shooting rays onto our table.
But while my friends basked in the warmth, my body gave a slight shiver. I couldn’t help remembering that good things around here were never what they seemed.
CHAPTER 7 - Always be Prepared
“YOU’RE NOT GOING to need that bathing suit,” I told my sister for the tenth time.
“But Mom said Aunt Hildegaard has a farm by a lake.” Sookie tried stuffing the suit into her bulging plaid suitcase.
“It’s still too cold for swimming here, and Sweden’s by the Arctic Circle. That lake’s probably frozen over,” I explained. “Ms. Dreeble told us to pack warm sweaters and our winter jackets.” I checked out my sister’s suitcase. There wasn’t room left for a sock let alone a coat. “Is that Buddy’s cage?” I asked, suddenly suspicious of the shape of one of the dresses jammed inside her luggage.
“No hamsters are allowed on the plane,” Mom said, coming into Sookie’s room. She pulled out Buddy’s cage and, holding it in one hand, went to Sookie’s desk and started shoving papers and coloring pens and books and clothes to one side. Then she placed Buddy’s cage on the desk. “I promise to take good care of him. There, now you’ll have room for a coat and swimsuit.”
Sookie stuck out her tongue at me when Mom’s back was turned, and then she went over to her desk and started scribbling. “Okay, but I’m going to give you a list of instructions. Buddy likes to sit in the sun in the morning, and this is the music he likes to listen to when he spins on his wheel.” Sookie picked up a different colored pen and kept writing.
“He likes caraway seeds for breakfast,” Sookie said, “and greens for lunch. And he likes sunflower seeds for dinner.” She kept on writing. Mom would have a full-time job taking care of that hamster. I backed out of the room and left them to it.
I figured I could carry my coat on the plane, and that would leave more room in my suitcase. Except, I didn’t need a whole lot of room – I stared at my almost empty closet.
“Maybe you’d like to pack these?” Mom brought bags into my room and pulled out a new jacket, a sweater, a cool pair of jeans, and a huge shoebox. “Oh, Mom, I always wanted a pair of these.”
They were those suede boots with soft lining that felt like cozy slippers when you put them on. They were gray and high enough for me to tuck in my jeans. “I love them.”
“And you’ll need spending money,” said Mom. “I’ll let you be in charge of Sookie’s money as well.” Mom handed me kronor, the Swedish currency. “The rest are in traveler’s checks. You should give those to Aunt Hildegaard for safekeeping.”
“What’s Sweden like?” I asked.
Mom’s face grew warm as she basked in the happy memory. “The summer I spent in Sweden was wonderful. Warm – but not too hot – and so peaceful. I remember the lake and sky being such a beautiful blue. And the northern lights …” Mom said excitedly. “I saw them three times that summer, and I’ve never seen them since.”
Then Mom grew thoughtful. “Your Aunt Hildegaard must be getting on,” she said. “I’ve just realized – she was quite old when I was a girl. Cat, you’ve got to promise me that you two won’t be any trouble. You’ve got to keep a close eye on your sister so she doesn’t wear your aunt out.”
Just then there was a shriek in Sookie’s room. Then she came running in and started an excited babble. “I just looked up Sweden in a book my teacher gave me. Did you know Santa’s reindeers live there? Oh, Cat, we’ve just got to see them – as soon as we get there. Do you think any live on Aunt Hildegaard’s farm? This is stupendous!
“And in Stockholm there’s a butterfly house you can visit any time of year – we’ve got to go to that.” Sookie started dancing in a circle. “And there’s a fantasy park just for kids with a statue of Pippi Longstocking,” she almost squealed in delight. “We’ve got to go there too.”
Sookie pulled her patch up over her head. “There are no pirates, but there’s something even more astounding: Vikings!”
As my kid sister kept babbling, the first few days I’d planned in Sweden were going up in flames. Our aunt wouldn’t be meeting us until we went to the town close to her farm. I was stuck with Sookie until then, and my friends and I talked about going sightseeing in Stockholm. There was no way I wanted to take Sookie to do that dumb kid stuff. We all wanted to go to Gröna Lund, the big amusement park Zach had heard about.
Maybe we could get Sookie to go to bed early and leave her at the hotel. Then Sookie said, “And the sun stays high in the sky starting in spring. It doesn’t set until about ten at night there, so we can stay awake really late.”
“Well, it’s plenty dark here, missy, and it’s time for you to go to bed. We have to get up very early to drive to the airport.” Mom ushered Sookie out of my room. “I think we’d better have one more look at what you’ve packed before you go to sleep.”
After they left, I sat down on the hard window seat and stared out past our backyard fence. Grim Hill loomed in the distance, and I’d never seen it appear so undisturbed. Not a single weird light flashed back from the hill – or any strange clouds. Instead, a crescent moon hung low in the clear night sky, and the trees on the hill were hidden in shadow.
I fiddled with the silky white feather I always kept on a thin silver chain clasped to my waist. I unhooked it and was about to dump it in my drawer, and then hesitated. Even though I wasn’t going to need glamour protection in Sweden, I’d promised Lucinda I’d always keep it with me. I slipped the chain and feather into a pocket in my suitcase.
When it comes to fairies, you always want to be prepared.
CHAPTER 8 - Journey into the Unknown
THE AIRPORT BUSTLED with activity. For the third time, Mr. Morrows and Ms. Dreeble tried hustling us into an organized group, which wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. A bunch of parents and even the Greystone sisters had come to see us off. There was too much hugging, and too many “I’ll miss you’s,” and too much frantic searching for passports.
And too much Sookie! When our teachers were assigning seats for the plane, Ms. Dreeble joined me in the crowd.
“We’re trying to find a third person to sit with you and your sister,” Ms. Dreeble said. “But if you can find two other friends to sit with you, we’ll put you in a center aisle.”
I looked over my shoulder at my kid sister. She stood there with her plaid suitcase, wearing her floppy wool hat. Why would any of my friends want to sit with her when even I didn’t? Then a feeling of guilt crept up on me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to sit with her, I just wanted to hang out with my friends more. Amarjeet and Mia had secured a row of three seats right in front of Mitch, Rabinder, and Zach. Mia and Amarjeet glanced at me anxiously, and then at the guys. And waited …
“I’ll sit with you, Cat,” Jasper said, and he waved to Sookie. Excited, she waved back.
“You’re a good friend,” I shook my head. “You do realize you’re in for twelve hours of Monopoly.” But Jasper just shrugged his shoulders. I still needed one more person.
“I’ll sit with you,” Clive said. I turned in surprise. He just smirked and said, “Uh, I’m a big fan of Monopoly. I, uh, love the game.”
Ms. Dreeble thanked us and rejoined Mr. Morrows at the counter where they finalized the seating.
&
nbsp; Amarjeet and Mia sent sympathetic looks my way before they got Amanda on board for the third seat. The next twelve hours were going to be filled with Monopoly and listening to Clive tell us how we should play the game. This was going to be a really long flight.
We joined Mom and the Greystones for one last goodbye. As Mom hugged Sookie for about the thirtieth time, Lucinda took me aside.
“Cat,” she said, uncertainty creeping into her voice, “I’m not quite sure how to tell you this, so I’ll just say it. Be careful.”
I liked that Lucinda spoke to me like an equal. Perhaps this was because she’d had to age seventy years in mere hours after she was released from the fairy world. But still my throat tightened. “Is it Sookie?” I wished more than ever that my little sister was staying behind under their watchful care.
Lucinda shook her head and in a hesitant voice said, “It’s nothing clear, but I’ve been having a recurring dream that could be a warning.”
My heart thumped in my chest.
“This dream is about a fairy tale that used to frighten me as a child – the story of Hansel and Gretel. In my dream they are far off in the distance. I can’t quite make out their faces, but there’s a girl that looks a bit like you, Cat, and a boy holding her hand in a malevolent forest. And I hear the witch cackling behind the trees.” Lucinda shook her head. “I used to wake up scared before I remembered that it was just a dream. Now, it’s a feeling of mild dread I can’t shake.”
Hansel and Gretel? That wasn’t so bad. Except now that Lucinda mentioned it, my own dream was about a dark and dangerous-looking forest. I said warily, “Do you think that dream has something to do with the trip?”
I took a breath and waited.
Lucinda fastened me with a stare. “There’s no way to say for sure. I just want you to stay alert. Did you bring your feather?”
I nodded. I wasn’t wearing it, but it was still in my suitcase.
At that, relief washed over Lucinda’s face. “Good.”
Then Mom came over and hugged me again. “Have a wonderful trip,” she said.
“Thanks.” I hugged her back as I watched Lucinda and Alice Greystone. Lucinda was smiling again, and Alice waved goodbye. We were getting away from Grim Hill, so I was sure I wouldn’t even need the feather. But if it made Lucinda feel better, I’d keep it close by.
As we gathered to go through the security gate, Sookie let out a squeal of alarm. The security guard did a surprised double take. Ms. Dreeble and Mr. Morrows rushed toward us, and my friends all looked at us at once. My face burned.
“Shh,” I hissed. “What’s wrong?” On the other side of the gate, Mom’s expression flashed with such alarm she may as well have shouted, “Let’s pull the plug on the whole trip.”
Sookie said, “Cat, I just saw something scary.”
The security guard became alert and flashed his eyes across the concourse.
“What? Where?” I said in confusion.
“In the future,” Sookie said, and the security guard’s wary expression changed to annoyance as he shook his head.
“Maybe your new glasses are playing tricks on you.” I tried getting her to change the subject.
“No.” Now Sookie sounded irritated. “I’m telling you I can see stuff that’s going to happen.”
“Shh, you can’t see the future,” I said as blood raced through my veins. Mr. Morrows and Ms. Dreeble arrived.
I must have said that kind of loud because Zach shouted, “Cool, can I try those glasses on?”
Then my friends laughed, and for a second I thought Sookie was going to get mad, but she smiled and said, “Please keep them. They just get in the way.” She handed the glasses off to Zach, and we watched him model them for everyone. Personally, I thought Amanda laughed a bit too loudly. At least Sookie settled down, and our teachers drifted to the back of the line. Mom looked relieved and waved to us as we finally passed through the gate.
But as we headed toward the departure lounge, I whispered to Sookie, just to be sure, “Did you mean you think you’re in danger?”
Sookie shook her head and said with a sniff, “No, Cat. You’re the one who’s in danger.”
CHAPTER 9 - Land of the Midnight Sun
AFTER WE LANDED near Stockholm, we stumbled exhausted from the plane and onto an airport transport bus that would take us into the city center to our hotel. Sitting on the bus, I was pretty amazed. Stockholm was like nothing I’d ever seen.
As we traveled over bridge after bridge, Ms. Dreeble explained, “Stockholm is an archipelago of thousands of islands, with the fourteen main islands connected by bridges.”
Houses crept down to the water’s edge where the ocean and canals met the city; they were old red-brick houses, some made of yellow and orange stone. All the houses had high-pitched roofs. The tiny wood-framed windows puzzled me until I realized that this was a cold climate, and the last thing you’d need were big, drafty windows.
The ground still had a dusting of snow in the middle of April, and along the water’s edge were tree-lined pathways and cafés with iron gates and balconies.
Narrow cobblestone streets spread like a labyrinth behind the houses. I squirmed excitedly in my seat as I ached to go out and explore. My sister snoozed beside me on my left, and Jasper snored softly to my right. Someone in the back was snorting annoyingly loud, but when I turned to complain, I realized it was Mr. Morrows. Then I stifled a huge yawn – it had been almost twenty hours since I’d slept.
When the bus pulled up outside our small hotel, I stepped out into the lemony sunlight. Even though it was eight at night in Sweden, there was still daylight. But it was cold, and unlike the chill in our town, this cold had a dampness that seeped into my bones. I hugged my coat closer as a groggy Sookie asked, “Are we there yet?”
“Yep,” I said, stifling another yawn and helping her with her suitcase.
Rock music drifted from up the street where there was a stadium. The hotel valet greeted us with, “God dag,” which I figured meant “hello,” then in English he explained about the music. “This is the entertainment district. It can be quite busy late into the night.”
“Cool,” a bunch of us said.
Ms. Dreeble and Mr. Morrows didn’t look as excited.
The air smelled crisp from fresh snow, and there was also a salty tang from the Baltic Sea. Funny, but I got a sort of hollowness in my stomach, as if my brain was just now taking in that I was a long way from home. But that feeling quickly passed as we were each assigned to our rooms for the night.
It was supposed to be three to a room, but a hotel person ordered a small cot to be brought in for Sookie. Amarjeet, Mia, Sookie, and I sleepily trundled up sixty steps to our room. There weren’t elevators, and we had to drag our luggage up the steps.
Our room was small with cheery floral wallpaper, and we had to stash our suitcases under the beds. It was hard work convincing Sookie to brush her teeth, and I could tell Mia and Amarjeet were already getting annoyed with her as a roommate. When Sookie and I came back from the bathroom, I overheard Mia whispering, “We won’t be able to stay up late and talk about the guys.”
“Yeah,” complained Amarjeet. “Sookie will either let something slip accidentally … or on purpose.” Fortunately, Sookie was too sleepy to figure out they were complaining about her. As a matter of fact, no one had to worry about overheard gossip when we turned out the lights. Despite this being the first night without parents, once we slipped under the heavy feather quilts, it didn’t matter that the last weak rays of sunlight still shone through our shuttered window. Or that thrums of electric guitars and banging drums reached the fourth floor of our hotel from the streets below.
We all fell instantly asleep.
I’m falling. I tumble head over heels and splash! I’m plunging into icy water. My body submerges deeper and deeper in the aching cold, and I realize I’m descending toward my doom …
I awoke with a start. Sookie had pulled the quilt off my side of the bed, and I’d rol
led into a shivering ball. I tugged the quilt back, but I tossed and turned unable to drift back to sleep.
This was definitely a recurring dream. Lucinda had said that recurring dreams could be warnings. But her dream was about Hansel and Gretel. What kind of warning could that be?
Then there was Sookie. What did she mean at the airport about seeing danger in my future? My stomach churned. When it’s dark and you’re the only one awake, it’s like the whole world weighs heavily on your shoulders.
With blurry eyes, I checked my watch on the nightstand. I had reset it to Swedish time when the plane had landed. It was four-thirty in the morning – a world record for me, as I wasn’t exactly an early riser. Neither was Sookie, and she snored softly while I lay under the quilt, worrying and waiting for everyone else to wake up.
I must have eventually drifted back to sleep because a knock on our door woke me. “Time to get up,” came Ms. Dreeble’s voice from the corridor. “We’re going to have a breakfast meeting in the dining room. Rise and shine and be downstairs in twenty minutes.”
Amarjeet groaned and Mia yawned. Sookie remained unconscious. We quickly washed up, and I yanked on the new jacket Mom had bought me. Mia and Amarjeet headed for the dining room as I tried hauling Sookie out of bed. She was unhappy about it, but I wasn’t about to be late after promising Ms. Dreeble that I would be more responsible.
As we raced down the endless steps, it occurred to me I wasn’t feeling worried anymore. The daylight seemed to put everything into perspective. Dreams are just symbols of whatever is on our minds. I was in Sweden and I knew there were lots of forests and waterways here. Big deal. And given all the bad fairy magic Lucinda had faced, she’d naturally have bad dreams about fairy tales. As for Sookie …
But I didn’t have time to consider what was going on with my sister because we arrived in the hotel dining room ten minutes late and had missed the opening of the meeting. You could sense the excitement in the air when Sookie and I took a seat at an empty table. Amarjeet and Mia had joined Amanda, leaving only one available seat at their table. Everyone was grouped in fours, and I winced, wondering if my sister would be my only partner for our stay in Stockholm.
Grim Hill: The Family Secret Page 4