by Kari Maaren
He stood up, forcing her to scramble to her feet as well; otherwise, she would have been left craning her head ridiculously far back. “You know,” said Roland, “you’re the same age as me, so you can stop acting all superior.”
Without realising it, he had handed her a card she could play. “Actually,” she murmured, leaning in towards him, “I used to be about five and a half months older than you. I was gone for eighteen months. I guess that makes me two years older now. I have more life experience. I know more about what’s going on. I’ve had longer to get over my resentment. My resentment is gone! I’m trying to help you, and Mel, and me. So stop … being … so … difficult.”
She poked him in the chest, hard, on all the words after “stop.” Roland was giving her the same look everyone seemed to be giving her lately: the one that said she had sprouted antlers in the middle of the conversation. “Life experience,” said Roland in what he may have meant to be scoffing tones.
“Fifteen wars,” said Freddy. “Six revolutions. I was a midwife twice. I’ve hunted lions. I own a tiny gun that shoots bolts of electricity. If you stop being a dork, I’ll let you use it.”
Roland stared. “A tiny gun…?”
“Ask me tonight,” said Freddy. “Not here. We’ll figure things out together. The sooner you stop thinking of me as the person who insulted you yesterday, the sooner we’ll start making progress.”
“You didn’t change in a day,” Roland told her. She knew he knew what had happened to her, but she remembered having problems with the time travel herself. It just wasn’t easy to wrap your head around.
“You’re right,” said Freddy. “It took longer than a day. You’re going to have to take the short course. Please stop hating me and start cooperating. We’ll save a lot of time.”
The courtyard was beginning to empty out. Freddy wondered which hedge Josiah was hiding behind. A few smokers were watching them, but she doubted they could see much of what was going on. She kept her eyes on Roland.
“I don’t hate you,” he said finally.
“You do a little,” said Freddy, “and okay, I understand that, but you need to get over it. I am sorry for what I said yesterday.”
For the first time in weeks—or, for her, years—Roland smiled. It was a pinched, grudging smile, but it counted.
“You don’t remember what you said yesterday,” said Roland.
“Something something I wish you’d never moved in something something I hope you go blind,” said Freddy.
It took her only about a second to see she had made a mistake. She should have pretended she didn’t remember what she’d said yesterday. It didn’t matter that she was apologising. It mattered that she had said it in the first place. Roland’s expression had been opening out; now she saw him close himself off again. “That’s right,” he said flatly. “You did say that, didn’t you?”
“Roland—” started Freddy, but he was already turning away. “I’ll talk to you tonight,” he said. “But you’re not as superior and all-knowing as you think you are. Stay away from Josiah. You’re going to be the one who screws everything up. You always are.”
She stood there and watched him walk away. There was no use shouting things after a deaf person who wasn’t looking at her. I don’t think I’m superior and all-knowing, thought Freddy, hoping it was true.
21
The rest of the day was agonising. She wanted it to end, and it didn’t. She may have lived through an extra year and a half the day before, but today felt almost as long, and there wasn’t even any ploughing involved.
Math class crawled. Ms. Liu had lost control of the students, and people talked freely over her desperately cheerful explanations of geometry. The only person paying attention was Cathy, who had probably been given a grades ultimatum by her parents again. Freddy noticed that Roland’s interpreter was getting visibly frustrated. Roland was forever turning to stare out the window, not the best move for someone who couldn’t take in the lecture while looking away from it. He also turned occasionally to glare at Freddy, who was sitting next to Josiah.
“He’s going to burn holes straight through my head with his eyes,” said Josiah as Ms. Liu wittered on about pi. “I didn’t quite catch what you were haranguing him about at lunch.”
“He wants a pony,” said Freddy. “He claims he would keep it in our backyard and ride it around the park on weekends. It’s very sad.”
Ms. Liu eventually gave up and just assigned them about twice as much homework as usual, then let them ignore it for the rest of the period. Freddy got through hers quickly. She had a feeling there wouldn’t be much time for homework tonight.
She looked up from the last problem to find Cathy watching her.
“What?” said Freddy.
Cathy gave a nervous little giggle that set Freddy’s teeth on edge. “You do that so fast. I wish I could.”
“It’s just math.”
“Sooooo, like, Rochelle said she barely touched you yesterday, and you fainted. Is that true? You look okay today.”
Freddy kept her face blank. She wondered how long Cathy had been so dim and why she hadn’t noticed before.
“Whatever Rochelle says,” said Freddy, shrugging.
“Only she thinks you’re going to lie to the principal about her. You won’t, right?” Cathy leaned forward. “I mean, there’s no use getting Rochelle in trouble just because she doesn’t want to be friends with you any more. Right?”
Freddy looked at the clock. This period was never, ever going to end.
“Right?” said Cathy.
“I don’t care about Rochelle,” said Freddy, “okay? If she doesn’t bother me, I won’t bother her.”
“That’s perfect,” said Cathy. “Can you help me with the first problem? It doesn’t make sense.”
Between Roland’s deadly glowers, Cathy’s inane questions about easy math problems, and Josiah’s occasional hints that he was on to her, though he clearly wasn’t, Freddy felt she was on the verge of genuine insanity. The bell had never sounded so wonderful.
“I notice you haven’t been able to get into your locker,” said Josiah as they packed up. “Do you even have your flute?”
“I’d taken it home with me. It’s in my bag,” said Freddy. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Roland signing viciously at Josiah. She thought she caught a Stay away from her and perhaps a twist your head off, though the latter was more a spontaneous gesture than it was an actual sign in ASL. A worm of irritation with Roland crept back into her mind. So much had changed for her. Nothing at all had changed for him.
The other flute players watched her warily as she entered the band room. Everyone watched her warily now. The entire school was treating her like a bomb on a timer.
For some reason she couldn’t remember at all, she had, on Monday, taken her flute home but left her music folder in her locker. She sat down in her usual spot at the end of the second-flute section. Chin, on her right, was a first flute. She turned to her left. “Can I share with you?” she asked Hubert.
He dropped his instrument. “What? Me?”
“Yeah, I can’t get into my locker,” said Freddy. “So can I?”
There was a distant part of her that knew this was the first time in her life she had ever spoken directly to Hubert. No one spoke directly to Hubert. He was sort of like an alien. You never knew how he was going to react, so it was safer to pretend he wasn’t there. He went beyond Josiah levels of weirdness to an uncanny zone occupied only by the select few. He was far too weird to be bullied. But she needed to share music with someone, and he was sitting next to her, and to be fair, Filbert had been slightly weirder than Hubert.
Hubert, still facing straight ahead, swivelled his eyes around towards her. “Does. Not. Compute. Danger! Danger! Okay, you can share, but don’t breathe on my music stand.”
“I won’t,” said Freddy.
She turned away to see Chin regarding her in amazement. “What are you doing?” whispered Chin.
/> “Uh,” said Freddy, “sharing Hubert’s music?”
Chin gaped at her for a moment, then shook her head and went back to sorting through her own folder.
Band seemed to last almost as long as math. They were doing a medley from Cats, and they sounded like, well, cats, though not in a good way. Freddy hadn’t practised the flute in so long that her embouchure had turned to mush. She could barely make a sound, and most of the sounds she did make were squeaks. Hubert and Chin winced every time she played. Fortunately, no one else was much better except one of the clarinetists, who had been playing since she was six, and a tenor saxophonist who had, in fact, got rhythm.
Ms. Bains told them to pack up fifteen minutes before the class should have ended. She often did. The unfortunate result was that since even the slowest packing-up job ever couldn’t have taken more than five minutes, Josiah had ten more in which to make his usual scene. “How’s it going, Keith?” he said clearly, his voice cutting through the subdued chatter. “Thrown anyone headfirst into a wall lately?”
He just never stopped. Freddy decided to spend the next little while staring at her watch. The date and time on it were both completely wrong, but perhaps she could will it to force time to move faster.
“Shut up, you freak,” said Keith.
“Did I say something problematic?” asked Josiah. “Isn’t it funny how even though someone else hit the wall, you were the one who ended up with brain damage?”
Freddy gazed raptly at the watch as Keith threw himself on top of Josiah, who had doubtless known he would. Josiah did like collecting bruises. It was becoming kind of boring. The class dissolved into chaos. Freddy thought she caught a glimpse of Cuerva Lachance’s coat swirling past the band room door, but it happened so quickly that she couldn’t be sure.
* * *
Freddy’s inability to get into her locker did leave her with one advantage. She had been lugging her bag and coat around all day, which had been annoying at the time but also meant she had her bag and coat and could be out of the school the instant the bell rang. While Josiah was still trying to disentangle himself from both of Keith’s fists and a trombone or two, Freddy was dashing across the school’s front lawn towards the entrance used by the Deaf kids. She hoped Roland wasn’t long.
He wasn’t. He must, she thought, have been trying to get home quickly so he could barricade himself in his room again. Todd and Marcus weren’t with him. They didn’t live as close to the school as Roland and Freddy and had to take public transit to get home.
When Freddy fell into step beside him, Roland threw her a disgruntled glance but didn’t comment. He turned very deliberately away from her. The way he kept making sure he couldn’t see anything she said was beginning to bother her. She had to make him understand about Three, but she wouldn’t be able to if he just wouldn’t look at her.
She kept an eye out for Josiah, but they seemed to have outdistanced him for now. It was Mel who caught up with them first. She would have had to go several blocks out of her way to meet them on the way home. She was puffing enthusiastically, her face shiny and red. “Did anything happen? Are we in trouble yet?”
“Not yet,” said Freddy, “but it’s coming soon. He still won’t listen.”
“I’ve been thinking about it all day,” said Mel, bouncing along beside them, “and brainstorming in my notebook and everything, but there are still big chunks of stuff missing. You told me everything?”
“Pretty much everything,” said Freddy, a little guiltily. She hadn’t mentioned Mika or Ban. She kept telling herself she wasn’t sure why, but that wasn’t quite true. The fact that Cuerva Lachance could walk around invisible was bothering her. It was bad enough that they had discussed aloud the fact that Roland was Three. Freddy didn’t want to give away everything she knew. It was possible the key to this whole situation was in something she had already seen or heard.
Roland was still looking away from both of them. Freddy wondered how he could see where he was going. “Has he been like that all day?” said Mel. “It’s denial, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” said Freddy. “He’s still mad at me. Maybe you can get through to him.”
“I’ll try,” said Mel, but then Cuerva Lachance was there, stepping out of the air in front of them, right in the middle of the park. All three of them stopped together, even Roland, who had been staring off to his left and must only have been able to see her out of the corner of his eye.
“I was in a swimming pool,” she said. “Which of you is Three?”
They stood in a row, watching her. Freddy had to stop herself from letting her eyes slide towards Roland. If he gave himself away now, it would be his own doing, not hers.
“Come on. You can tell me.” She gave her fingers a persuasive little waggle. “I’m very good at keeping secrets. Mostly because I forget them immediately, but nobody has to know that.”
The sun was just barely peeping out from behind the perpetual cloud cover. Freddy wasn’t sure why she was noticing that. Cuerva Lachance stood in the weak sunlight, smiling and seemingly simply naively interested. Freddy had rarely found her more menacing.
“There are kids in the playground,” murmured Mel. “She doesn’t … do things … when people might notice, does she?”
Freddy wasn’t sure how she’d given her sister such a wrong impression of Cuerva Lachance. “Josiah isn’t here,” she whispered back. “Anything could happen.” Roland made a move as if to walk on across the park, then stopped again. Cuerva Lachance wasn’t a very big woman, but her presence was as solid as a brick wall. All she had to do to hold them back was stand there in her hat and trench coat and not do anything scary.
Freddy heard pounding footsteps on the grass behind her, and she barely stopped herself from turning to look. She knew who this would be. “Damn it, you’re slippery,” Josiah gasped as he staggered over to stand next to Cuerva Lachance. One of his eyes was puffy, and his nose was leaking blood. His presence, however, seemed to suck some of the tension out of the air. They’re less strong when they’re together, Freddy thought, startled. They balance each other out.
“Okay, listen,” said Josiah when he’d got his breath back, “it’s been fun tiptoeing around each other today and pretending to be all crafty, but we know you know which of you is Three. All we want is for you to tell us so Three can make the choice. It’s a painless process. It’ll be over in seconds. You’re being ridiculous; just tell us.”
“Nope,” said Mel, “we’ll pass.”
He flung out his arms. “Why?”
“Mysterious reasons,” said Cuerva Lachance. “I like those.”
“Not so mysterious,” said Mel. “We just don’t want to.”
“Freddy?” said Josiah.
She shook her head. “No deal.”
“But you’ve seen,” said Josiah, exasperated. “The choice is nothing. It doesn’t hurt Three.”
“I still say no,” said Freddy, “thanks.”
Josiah narrowed his eyes at her, then turned to Roland. “What about you?”
He couldn’t have been following the whole conversation, as he hadn’t been looking at Freddy and Mel, but he had gathered enough. He said, “Go away.”
“You know we can’t do that,” said Josiah.
“I don’t know anything,” said Roland, “except that I want you to go away.”
Josiah and Cuerva Lachance looked at each other. Again, there was that odd sense of something relaxing, becoming less dangerous. They should have seemed more dangerous when they were working together, but it was just the opposite. Rain was beginning to mist down over the park, sparkling in the sunlight. Freddy looked for the rainbow and found it arcing over the trees.
Cuerva Lachance smiled again. “All right.”
Mel, predictably, was the one who gave away her surprise. “All right how?”
“All right.” Cuerva Lachance flung out her arms in a woebegone gesture. “You win. We give up. It’s all over. Alack the day. We shall never learn who Three
is. We shall go far, far away and weep on an iceberg, just because we can. I hope there are squirrels on our iceberg. Life is less colourful without squirrels. Come on, Josie, dear; let’s crate up the grand piano.”
“Alas,” said Josiah in wooden tones.
Mel opened her mouth. Freddy’s elbow shot out and clipped Mel on the shoulder. Two days ago, she would have been aiming for her sister’s side, but the extra height had caught her off guard. Ignoring Mel’s yelp of pain, Freddy said, “Okay.”
This time, it was Josiah who betrayed surprise. His eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Yep,” said Freddy. “You want to go. We want you to go. Everybody wins.”
“And you believe us when we say we’re going?” asked Cuerva Lachance, doing her habitual head tilt.
“Let’s pretend we do,” said Freddy.
Mel opened her mouth again. This time, Freddy smacked her on the back of the head.
“Fine,” said Josiah. “Let’s go home and pretend to pack up all our worldly belongings.”
“Fine,” said Freddy. “Let’s go home and pretend to let our guard down.”
Freddy, Roland, and Mel stood together and watched Cuerva Lachance and Josiah walk across the park towards the house on Grosvenor Street. “They’re going to outsmart us,” said Mel.
“I think so,” said Freddy, “but why do they have to? What’s so urgent about getting Three to make that choice?”
They turned to Roland, who had, at last, been looking at them as they spoke. “Any ideas?” said Mel, signing along.
His face had again drained of colour. “You shouldn’t have talked to them at all. You keep making that mistake. I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to talk to you about this tonight … or ever. We can’t talk about it! We have to treat it as if it’s not real!”
“Cally and the couch,” said Mel. Freddy nodded.
Roland blinked. “What’s Cally and the couch?”
“We had a cocker spaniel,” said Freddy. “She died when I was nine. She used to hate baths. Whenever someone said the word ‘bath,’ she would jump up on the couch and bury her head in the cushions. You can’t see me … I’m not here.” She had the uneasy feeling she had once behaved like this, too, but there was no use in worrying about that now.