by Jane Kelley
The Captain drank from the glass. “You read too many books. You know that?”
“They’re your books.”
“I know. But I don’t read them. I just sell them.”
“Like the bowl,” Tasman said.
“That’s right. Like the bowl. Now, quit daydreaming and write up that crap we got today.” The Captain stood up and walked toward the back room.
As he passed a stack of boxes, he paused. He placed his hand against the second box. It was completely wrapped in tape. He looked back over his shoulder at Tasman.
“Don’t you want new boots?” he said.
“Why? I’m never going out again,” Tasman said.
“Tarnation,” the Captain said. He pounded his fist against the box. The stack leaned precariously. Tasman jumped up and raced over to help the Captain keep the boxes from falling.
When he placed his hand on the second box, he stared at the Captain. “What’s in here, anyway?”
“I don’t know. What’s the label say? Alabaster canopic jars.”
“That’s not your writing,” Tasman said.
“Bah.” The Captain straightened the stack. “What do you know about it? Nothing. Now get to work.”
But Tasman had recognized the scrawl. It was his grandfather’s.
Twenty-four
On Monday morning, Drew tied on Mercury’s ankle wings with triple knots. He kicked his legs up in Val’s face to show her.
“You shouldn’t wear pieces of dead animals to school. You’ll upset the other kids,” Val said.
“They aren’t pieces of dead animals. Live birds voluntarily gave Lanora their feathers,” Drew said.
Val knew she could never win an argument with her brother. She had to figure out another way to persuade him to give her what she needed to help Lanora. So Val skipped soccer practice to get Drew from his after-school program.
He wasn’t glad to see her. “You’re too late. During lunchtime, I permanently attached Mercury’s ankle wings to my legs.” He danced and dashed ahead, as if he were a messenger for the gods. To his disappointment, no one noticed him. This was New York City, where even movie star gods and goddesses didn’t receive more than a ripple of attention from the vast human sea.
A stoplight made him wait at the corner. Val caught up with him. “I have money for ice cream.”
“Why would I trade a superpower for something that melts?”
“Because ice cream is real.”
“So are these.” Drew danced again. “Besides, there’s ice cream at home.”
“Old boring vanilla with ice crystals,” Val said.
“I love ice crystals. Crystals are another source of power.”
“Hmm,” Val said. That was what she needed. Something more powerful than Drew’s imagination. She knew of only one thing. She took her brother’s hand and turned him to the right.
“Why aren’t we going to the park?” Drew said.
“Why should I do what you want when you won’t do what I want?” Val said.
“Because what I want is fun and what you want is dumb,” Drew said.
“We’re going someplace much better than the park,” Val said.
They headed west along 86th Street and crossed Amsterdam Avenue.
“Are we going to the other park?” Drew said.
“You’ll see,” Val said.
He paused to tighten the laces of the ankle wings. She didn’t wait. He had to run to catch up.
“I don’t think you know where you’re going. I think you are leading me astray. After we walk in circles for an hour, you think I’ll be tired and you can overpower me.”
“Nope,” Val said.
“I warn you that I have hidden supplies of energy. Three people had birthdays today so I am full of cupcakes.”
“I’m not trying to make you tired.”
“Then where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” She was taking him the long way around to build suspense. They walked three more blocks, the last two because she got a little lost for real.
Then there was the sign. ANTIQUITIES FROM THE SHIPWRECK OF TIME
“Wow, look at that.” Drew ran ahead, but he waited for Val to come before he dared to go in the yard. The wedjat seemed to wink at them. A large crow croaked a warning as it flew away from the upstairs railing. The setting was perfect for persuading Drew—except for one thing. The rusty gate was chained shut. A piece of paper was stuck to a nail. GONE FISHING
Val rattled the chain. No one came to the gate. Not even Mau.
Drew pressed his nose against the grimy window. “Wow,” he said again when he saw the statue with the chiseled nose.
“How could the Captain go fishing? There’s no place to fish around here,” Val said.
“Actually the Hudson River has excellent fishing, unless you plan on feeding what you catch to a pregnant woman.”
A pair of feet wearing tattered slippers stuck out from behind the trash can labeled RECYCLED PAPER. Val didn’t recognize them until she saw the frayed part of his jeans.
“What are you doing out here?” Val said.
“The Captain locked me out.” Tasman jumped up and stood in such a way so that she couldn’t stare at his feet.
“Why?” Val said.
“He didn’t appreciate the way I unpacked some of his boxes.”
“Did you find it?” Val said.
“I’m getting closer,” Tasman said.
“That’s great,” Val said.
“Yes. Except it meant he didn’t want me in the store while he went fishing.”
“Is he really fishing?” Drew said.
“No. That’s his way of saying that he is in search of treasure,” Tasman said.
“Buried?” Drew said.
“If by buried you mean in the dirt, then no, but if by buried you mean hidden to the unobservant, then yes.”
“Who are you?” Drew said.
Val thought Tasman would answer that question with a speech about the composition of his cells and what he had for breakfast. But Tasman just said, “A friend of your sister’s.”
“Did you know she is a thief?” Drew said.
“Val?” Tasman looked at Val with new respect.
“She snuck into my bedroom in the middle of the night to steal Mercury’s ankle wings.” Drew pointed to his legs.
Tasman’s eyes widened. Then he smiled at Val.
She was glad he understood why she had brought Drew here.
“That’s terrible. How did you stop her?” Tasman said.
“With my gun. I would have shot her, too. Except that she is my sister. And she likes marshmallows.”
“I’m glad you showed restraint. It would have been a shame to waste the marshmallows on her,” Tasman said.
“Have you been in that store?” Drew said.
“Many times. I even sleep there. If a person can sleep in the presence of millions of eyes.”
“Watching you?” Drew said.
“Leading words like ‘imagination,’ ‘insubordination,’ ‘incantation.’”
Drew thought that was hysterical. “What grade are you in?”
“I think, at the present time, I’m in 1st, 8th, 10th, 5th, 9th, and 17th.”
“I mean, at school,” Drew said.
“As I said: 1st, 8th, 10th, 5th, 9th, and 17th are the levels I’ve achieved in my various studies. In case you’re wondering, I’m only in 1st grade at following directions.”
“You don’t go to school?” Drew said.
“If by ‘go’ you mean actually set foot in a brick-and-mortar structure, then no, I don’t.”
Drew considered this for a moment. “Either you are very smart. Or very dumb.”
Tasman laughed. “I fear that I am the latter. But you are very smart.” Tasman pointed at Drew. “That’s why you arranged this meeting.”
“I did?” Drew said.
“Of course. You know why Val wants Mercury’s ankle wings. You’re all in favor of that noble caus
e. But you thwarted her to make sure she brought you here to join our crusade.”
Val shook her head vigorously at Tasman. How dare he invite Drew in? He obviously didn’t have a little brother.
“Right.” Drew stood up as tall as he could.
“You swear to support our crusade, and to not tell parents, and to eschew personal possessions?” Tasman said, raising his right hand.
Val smiled. No way would Drew know that “eschew” meant “give up.”
“Yes. Except Mercury’s ankle wings,” Drew said.
“Come on, Drew.” Val kicked a rock. It clattered against the trash can.
“They’re mine. Lanora made them for me. And she won’t be making me anything else because Val got Lanora mad at her and she never comes over.”
“I didn’t get her mad at me.” Val stepped menacingly toward Drew.
Tasman stood between them. He put his hands on Drew’s shoulders. “It’s because of Lanora that we need Mercury’s ankle wings.”
“You mean she really is under a spell?” Drew whispered.
Tasman nodded solemnly.
“Poor Lanora,” Drew said.
“So you see why we need to help her,” Val said.
Drew squatted down so he could stroke the feathers. “Will I get them back?”
“Yes,” Val said.
Tasman shook his head. “We can’t promise. We don’t know what will happen. But if you let me have them, you might get Lanora back.”
“How? What are you going to do with them?” Drew said.
Tasman whispered loudly in his ear. “The mysteries have yet to be revealed.”
“Then how do you know what to do?” Drew whispered.
Tasman pointed to the wedjat.
It slowly swung back and forth, even though none of them could feel a breeze.
Drew frowned and stroked his chin as if he had a beard. Finally he said, “Okay.”
Val immediately started untying the ankle wings before he could reconsider.
“Wait!” Drew slapped her hands away.
Val hadn’t expected him to change his mind so soon.
Tasman put one hand on Drew’s wrist and the other on Val’s. “Drew’s right. The transfer is important. It requires a special ceremony.”
“At the Bower,” Drew said.
“At the Bower?” Neither Tasman nor Val wanted to go there.
But Drew danced away from the shop and along the sidewalk. “At the Bower.”
* * *
Lanora never went to the park. Too many kids hung out there. She had to avoid kids. The ones in middle school might have recognized her. And it would have been painful to see the younger ones. The ones in their princess costumes. The ones who still believed in happy-ever-afters. The ones who still had a chance. The ones who hadn’t yet made the mistake of ignoring their friends and throwing away their good luck charms.
Did Lanora really believe her demise was all because of the lilac butterfly? Of course not. But she did believe there was only one way to stop from wondering if that were true. She had to go back to the Bower and dig it up.
She was just about to climb over the wall to enter the park when she heard a little boy say, “I don’t want to give them to Val.”
There was no mistaking Drew. Lanora quickly ducked down. She pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt.
“Why not?”
Lanora didn’t recognize this voice. It belonged to an older boy.
“Yeah, why not?”
This was Val.
“She doesn’t know anything about ceremonies,” Drew said.
Lanora smiled. Val didn’t. She had to be coached along every step. But that was okay. Val was much better at other things, things that Lanora was terrible at. Things like being loyal. And fearless.
“And so how would you arrange for the transfer of the object? Considering that we lack sacrificial altars and we really aren’t interested in any kind of bloodshed, even if it’s metaphorical.”
Who was this guy? Why was he there with Val and Drew? How had Val met him? Nobody like that went to M.S. 10.
“Come on, Drew. Tell us what you want to do,” Val said.
“Welllllll,” Drew said.
Lanora smiled. She wondered what Drew would come up with. His imagination was pretty intense. She inched along the wall, a little bit closer to where they were.
“I think that Val should kneel down in front of me, press her forehead to the ground three times,” Drew said.
“Three times?” Val said.
“Okay. Nine times,” Drew said.
“That’s more!” Val said.
“And then, if the laces come undone, she can be allowed to remove Mercury’s ankle wings,” Drew said.
Lanora had forgotten all about the ankle wings. They were so old, they had to be falling apart. She could understand why Drew might want to play with things like that. But why would Val bother with them? And why would that guy?
“Are you sure you want the spirits to do that? If it were me, I wouldn’t want them untying things so close to my skin,” the guy said.
“Why not?” Drew said.
“Because of the energy required to move the laces. To overcome gravity and inertia and the power of non-belief.”
“What’s that?”
“That’s what you’re thinking. That they won’t do it. So they’ll have to blast through your brain. Because it will happen. The laces will be untied. And then the ankle wings will fall to the ground and get contaminated.”
Lanora smiled in spite of herself. The guy was a master of manipulation. But why was he going to all this trouble?
“Okay. Take them off. No, not you, Val. Tasman should do it,” Drew said.
Tasman? What kind of a name was that, Lanora wondered. She had to see what he looked like. It ought to be safe. They were busy with their ceremony. She adjusted her hood. She slowly raised herself up until she could just barely peek over the top of the wall.
Tasman wasn’t cute, Lanora decided. Not by any real standard. His hair was too wild. His expressions were unpredictable. His ears were crooked. Although that could have been because of the way he bent over Drew’s feet. He seemed clumsy. He couldn’t get the laces untied. Val came forward to help. Val always wanted to help. Drew kicked at his sister. Val stepped back. Tasman smiled at Val.
It was a brilliant smile.
It was painful to see.
The knots were undone at last. Tasman lifted the ankle wings up above his head, as if he were making an offering to the sun. The light, dappled by the leaves of the trees, shone upon the black and the white. The feathers stirred to life. Was it the wind? Or did another sort of power animate them?
Lanora wished Tasman would put on the ankle wings. She wanted him to run like the wind to deliver messages from the gods. She wanted him to bring one to her. To tell her that everything would be okay.
Because if all those things happened, then maybe it would be.
Twenty-five
Val did something she never in a million years expected to do. She thanked her little brother. In public. While they were walking home from the park.
He nodded his head to accept her gratitude. “I’m happy to be a hero. It’s what I was born to do. But if I won’t get the ankle wings back, you should probably give me something else.”
Val wondered what that should be. “Maybe a different kind of wings? Like those?” She pointed to a little girl dancing along the sidewalk with fairy wings looped to her shoulders.
“I was thinking cold, hard cash.”
Val reached in her pocket and took out a quarter.
Drew shook his head. “Is that all you think they’re worth?”
Val sighed. He had her trapped. “Okay. I’ll give you more when we get home. We’d better hurry. I don’t want Mom mad at me for being late again.”
“Mom and Dad will understand when we tell them,” Drew said.
Val grabbed Drew’s shoulders. “You can’t tell them. Remember you swo
re not to tell any parents. That includes ours.”
“Not even if they get mad?” Drew said.
“Especially if they get mad. Come on. Let’s race. Then we won’t be late.”
They ran the last three blocks, through the lobby, and up the stairs. Drew got to their apartment first. “Ha-ha! I beat you. I told you I was a hero!”
It wasn’t a fair contest. Her backpack contained the weight of global history; all he had in his was what he hadn’t wanted to eat for lunch.
Mom greeted them at the door. “Dinner’s ready.”
They took their usual places at the round table in the dining alcove. As she sat down, Val shifted her chair so she could be in kicking range of Drew. Her dad moved it back. Drew grinned.
“You look very pleased with yourself. Did something good happen at school?” Dad said.
“What good thing could possibly happen at school?” Drew said.
“Maybe you learned something interesting?” Mom said.
Drew leaned forward and whispered loudly. “I did. But not at school.”
Val glared at Drew.
“So what did you and Val do after she picked you up?” Mom said.
Drew looked at Val. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Mom was instantly suspicious.
Val couldn’t believe her brother couldn’t come up with a better lie. “I rescued Drew from prison and we hid from the bloodhounds.”
“Let your brother talk,” Mom said. “Tell me more about this nothing.”
Drew smiled. “Well.” He scooped a bite of potatoes onto his fork. He waved it in the air. He pointed it at Val. “Val took me to meet a boy.”
“A boy?” Mom leaned forward. “From her school?”
“No. He doesn’t go to school,” Drew said.
“Is he homeschooled?” Mom said.
“He’s smarter than that,” Drew said.
“No matter how smart he is, he still needs to go to school.” Mom put down her fork and stared at Val.
Val quickly crammed potatoes into her mouth. It would be rude to answer any questions with her mouth full. Unfortunately it didn’t take long to chew mashed potatoes.
“How did you meet him?” Mom said.
“At a bookstore,” Val said.
“Where does he live?” Mom said.
Val shrugged.
“I know,” Drew said.