A couple of kids approached from the other end of the block, and he pocketed the paper again. Well, whatever. He’d try to work with Nan, and if she wasn’t having any, he’d be outa there the first sight of the moon tonight. And if only one could go—then, well, at least he’d tried to share.
When he got to school he saw her lurking around the library building, and he fought against disgust. Geez, she was weird. Not that she looked all that weird. A plain, skinny girl with two thick, orange braids, and kind of nerdy clothes, like from some super-cheap discount store. It was the way she kind of lurked around the edges of walls and things, staring out of the sides of her eyes, then if you met her gaze, she looked down at the toes of her crummy shoes. Gave him the creeps.
Does she expect me to act like some kind of spy, he thought in disgust, and he walked straight across the quad toward her.
She darted quick glances from side to side, as though somebody was about to jump her. He was going to make a sarcastic comment about commando raids when he recalled McKynzi Kerne and her gang ragging her, calling her Nanny Goat and such stuff. Maybe she was on the lookout for them. So he only said, “Hi. Read the book?”
She nodded, her blue eyes puffy and her mouth tight. He knew he had puffy eyes as well, from not being able to sleep. She didn’t seem about to say anything, so he said, “Want to go?”
Her mouth thinned and her eyes closed a second, then once again she nodded. Short and tight.
Maybe this nerdy kid wanted to go as badly as he did.
Some kids yelled with laughter not far away, and Nan flinched, then gave him this weird, worried look, like she didn’t want to be seen talking to him. So he stared up at a bulletin board about Presidents’ Day, and said quickly, “Look. How about if we meet here at school, at midnight. It’s full moon tonight—and it should be good and up by then. Can you do it?”
“I’ll be here,” she said in a flat voice. “Midnight.”
And she hurried away like an army of orcs was after her. Joe wondered if going anywhere with this girl was going to be a big mistake.
o0o
At first Nan was afraid she was going to cry when—after all her worries all night long—Joseph Robles offered to meet her and do the spell together, as if nothing else in the world had been in his mind.
The magic must be working already, she thought. Making him act decent. Yeah. That has to be it; kids in her experience never acted friendly, or nice. Wherever she went, it was like she came with an invisible sign on her forehead saying Pick on me!
So all she had to worry about now was getting away from the Evanses safely.
Through every class Nan tried to think about what—if anything—she should take along. In all the magic stories she’d read, the lucky kids who got to go always disappeared at once. Well, here she was, with hours to plan for—and she couldn’t think of much that she’d want from this world. That she had, anyway.
Instead, her mind went straight to daydreams and plans about what she’d do once she got there. First thing, of course, was to rescue that Prince, because that was what they were being brought for. Then...learn some magic, and change herself from being ugly. Then she’d get a roomful of gorgeous dresses to wear with her beautiful new face. And then she’d make a huge castle, all for herself, her rich belongings, and her pets, for she’d have a million of them. Any stray she saw would be instantly adopted, and she’d never again have to ask anyone’s permission.
Or did they have dogs and cats? Nan didn’t know, but if she had magic, she could always bring some from Earth. She’d eat what she wanted, when she wanted, and travel where she wanted, and no one ever, ever, EVER would tell her what to do, ever again.
And she would only come back if she had lots and lots of power. She’d only come back if she could get revenge. She enjoyed thinking about REALLY being able to sweep down on the Evanses, and the Wheelwrights, who’d been ten times worse, and all the other places she’d been forced to stay after her mother left her in a park when she was just a year old, and disappeared. Making thunderstorms and hurricanes happen inside their houses—taking all their belongings so they’d have to be poor and hungry, and see how they liked it. All those old, familiar thoughts sped through her mind, making her shiver with delight. I’ll really be able to do it!
Picturing the results scared her a little. Is that breaking my promise? No, she told herself. She’d just be teaching them a lesson. That, and warning them just what might happen if they picked on any kid again. Yeah. Thinking of it that way made it feel pretty good. She’d be protecting some future kid forced to stay with them...
Thinking things like that got her painlessly through the rest of the day.
o0o
“Gonna come to basketball practice tomorrow?” the voice cut through the incredible noise on the bus, and invaded Joe’s thoughts.
He looked up into the familiar, tanned face of Terry Cowan, his best friend.
Ex best friend, Joe thought silently.
“Wake up, Robles,” Terry said, poking him. “Whadya do, stay up all night watching those dumb pirate movies on TV last night?”
Joe fought back the old embarrassment and said, “You used to watch them, too.”
Terry snorted. “Yeah. When I was nine, and didn’t know any better. Listen, we need someone who’s fast on the court, and I know your mom finally let you off the hook with those trumpet lessons. Look, you’re really good, so, why don’t you join the team?”
Joe studied Terry for a moment. Familiar face—turned into a stranger. Joe still couldn’t believe how much Terry had changed. They used to do everything together, riding all over town on their bikes just having fun, video games, drawing pictures of superheroes, and planning how to fight mega-villains with the powers they’d get after finding mysterious artifacts.
Until one day Terry suddenly said all that stuff was babyish, stupid, and why didn’t they try out for b-ball that summer?
Joe stared at Terry. Words about the book, the magic, flowed through his brain, to die before they were spoken. Three years ago, Terry would have listened.
Joe shook his head. No use thinking of that.
Terry wrinkled his forehead. “Hey. Why do you look like that? You sick or something?”
“Nah. Tired, that’s all,” Joe said. Not real, he’d said. It’s not real, it’s babyish. If I told him about the book now, he’d probably say the same thing.
“Well, what about basketball practice?” Terry persisted. “Will you come?”
Joe shrugged. He didn’t care about basketball one way or another. It was fun to play when he was playing it, but he forgot about it as soon as he was off the court. “If I’m around, I’ll come,” he said finally.
“See ya tomorrow,” Terry said, grinning in triumph.
o0o
Nan raced through the afternoon chores, reveling in the fierce joy she got when thinking, this is the last time I’ll ever have to do THAT stupid job. She forced herself to sit still during dinner, then she raced through the evening chores.
Alone in her room at last, she packed an extra change of clothes into her school bag. She didn’t want to take any of those ugly thrift store clothes, picked to be sturdy through many washings and not for looks or fashion, but she didn’t know if the magic would put them right with Blackeye, or if they’d have to travel a ways first.
Bed time was worse than the long dinner hour. Staring at the clock moving slowly was horrible, so she read the little book all the way through again. That used up time. Finally, finally, eleven o’clock came, and the sound of the TV from the Evanses’ bedroom ended. The house was asleep.
At eleven thirty she slid the little brown book into the bag, along with her reading flashlight and the extra set of batteries she’d bought just a week ago.
She sat down to wait for the half-hour before midnight.
o0o
“What do you think you’re doing?” Mar Tee’s voice ripped out at Joe, and he whirled around.
His sister s
tood in the kitchen door, grinning at having caught him.
Joe swallowed a strong desire to punch her, and he shrugged. “Sneaking some hot chocolate. So?”
“What’re all those cans on the counter for?”
“Because I was looking for another brand, big nose,” Joe said impatiently. “Why don’t you go take a hike?”
Mar Tee grinned nastily. “You make some for us both, with LOTS of whipped cream, and maybe I won’t go tell Mom.”
“Nice try, but I’ve been blackmailed by you before. Remember?”
Her grin changed to her usual mean look. “You’re supposed to be in bed—” Mar Tee started.
“So are you,” Joe cut in swiftly.
“I’ll say you woke me up with your noise. After all, my room is right overhead.”
“So go get in it, Martha,” Joe shot back.
Mar Tee opened her mouth, closed it, then whirled around and disappeared. He heard her footsteps pounding in the direction of the stairs, and knew she was going straight up to tell their parents. Not that Dad would care. He worked all day, he came home, watched TV, then slept. Work, TV, sleep. All he wanted was quiet.
Joe swiftly shoved into his backpack all the food he’d selected, leaving a nice clean counter. If their mother did come down, she wouldn’t see any hot chocolate, or anything else. And that was all she cared about.
Grinning, Joe ran softly up the stairs two at a time, pausing only to listen for voices in his parents’ room. Sure enough, Mar Tee was in there, tattling away.
He shoved his backpack under the bed, yanked off his clothes, and got under the covers. Presently he heard the creak of the floorboards outside his room, and the door opened. His father stuck his head in, said nothing, then withdrew and shut the door. Low voices. Mar Tee’s whine, “But he was.”
Then Mar Tee’s door slamming, more creaks, then silence.
As the silence lengthened, it filled with more subtle sounds. The bump and rattle of the furnace in the basement—the muted murmur of the TV in his parents’ room. Benny’s breathing.
Joe slid out of bed and stood gazing at his little brother. He looked so small there, sleeping with his fingers curled. Joe’s heart squeezed. He bent and kissed Benny’s cheek.
Remembering what some teacher had said once about people hearing things unconsciously, he bent close again, and whispered in his brother’s ear: “Hang tough. You can do it. Make Mom listen to you!”
Benny shifted, murmuring something unintelligible, and turned away.
“I’ll try to come back. See if you want to go. Heck, you can even bring Jordan.”
Benny thrashed about, and Joe stopped talking, afraid his brother would wake up. He stood quietly, hardly daring to breathe, and soon the little kid’s breathing was deep and even again.
Joe stepped back soundlessly, then looked around the familiar objects in his room. All those pictures he’d made of imaginary places, taped up on his walls. The books he’d collected. Everything ghost-lit by the rising moon through the window.
Time to go.
He picked up his shoes, his coat, and his backpack, eased the door open, and tiptoed down the stairs.
He paused on the landing to listen just once more. Silence.
He pulled his jacket and shoes on, his gloves ready in his pockets. Then he opened the front door, careful to make sure the knocker didn’t tap. Hunching into his coat against the icy outside air, he carefully eased the door shut.
Then he started to run.
Four
Running like that when the temperature must be about a million below zero made Joe’s mouth and lungs ache like fire, but he didn’t slow until he reached the corner across from the school.
There he stopped, trying to quiet his noisy breathing, and scanned back and forth so sign of the police who usually cruised the area for gangs and vandals.
Glad his jogging shoes were silent, he crossed the street fast. Then he came the surprise: the gate was locked. Of course, stupid.
He stood with his gloved fingers curled in the chain link, and tried to review the other entrances to the school in his mind. Then a ghostly figure appeared in the dark hallway just inside the gate.
“Climb over,” came Nan’s voice in a low, urgent whisper. “Fast. The cops come around every few minutes.”
Joe shoved his toe into a chain-link square and clambered up. The unmelodic ching of the fence under his weight seemed as loud as a bomb in his ears. Soon as he got to the top he jumped over. Landing lightly, he looked this way and that. Nothing.
“We can see the moon from the quad, just barely,” Nan said in a low voice. “It’ll be behind the library soon.”
“Library—” Joe repeated, walking fast beside the wraith-like girl. “Don’t you think we should return the book to the library before we go?”
Nan shook her head violently.
“Why not? We’d be stealing it otherwise, and besides, why not give some other kid a chance to go? I mean, if it works,” he corrected himself self-consciously.
“Did you leave a note?” Nan asked.
“What?” he asked, confused by the abrupt change of subject.
“A note. At your—your home.”
“Nah,” Joe said, feeling even more self-conscious. “I mean, I considered it, but they wouldn’t believe it anyway.”
“Good,” she said. “I didn’t, either. I don’t want to risk anyone coming after us. If they find the book, and put it together with us, and say the spell, they might come just to force us back.”
Joe hadn’t thought of that. The bitterness in her voice made him feel uncomfortable.
“Look,” he said. “Have you really thought about this? Not about leaving, but about what we might be going to.”
“What do you mean?” she demanded, in a not-particularly-friendly voice. “You’re not afraid they’ll turn out to be squid-people, or something?”
Her tone said: You’re scared.
Joe bit back a nasty retort. “Not likely.” He shrugged. “Because squids live undersea, and these guys sail ships. Also, I can’t see a centaur teaming up with squids.”
She made a muffled snort, almost a laugh.
“Of course, we may be in for some weird foods. Which is why I brought some chili and stuff, just in case. Until we could get magic to make us some of ours, or whatever.”
“So what’s your problem?” she said.
“It’s not mine, it’s, well, ours. If we both go. And I want to,” he added hastily, when he saw her stiffen up. “But rescuing somebody—well, this place doesn’t sound like pretty unicorns and fairies and—”
“Let’s. Go,” she cut in. “Now. Before anything happens to stop us.”
Joe shrugged, biting back a medium-hot reply of his own. We’re in this together, he reminded himself. So maybe one of us should act decent.
Nan stuck out her hand, a jerky movement that was somehow both wary and aggressive. “So we don’t get separated. In case it’s like a whirlwind, like in some of the stories.”
“Oh. Yeah. Good idea,” Joe said.
Her hand was thin, with callused palms and rough knuckles. She gripped his fingers with an uncompromising toughness, then said, “Let’s do the words together.”
“Right. Uh, Narnday-ell,” he stumbled over the word, feeling suddenly even more foolish.
Right beside him, Nan said smoothly, “Narndael en arnda hyt teldehr ehr...” As if she’d practiced a hundred times.
Reassured, Joe gabbled the rest of the line in order to catch up with her, then he matched her speed and pronunciation on the second saying. On the third, he heard tension entering her voice, and he felt cold all of a sudden. Very cold. It’s not working...
“Teldehr ehr!” they finished.
And Joe’s brain said Nothing happened while his eyes registered a completely different scene.
Instead of night, and the familiar school quad, they stood in dusk on a sandy beach. Deep blue ocean stretched to the horizon. Just as Joe thought We blew
it, and we’re now in California, something brilliantly golden splashed from the seawater and jetted upward into the sky, crying on fluting high notes. Joe made out the shapes of long, streamer-tailed birds before they disappeared against the indigo sky.
Nan pulled her hand from his, pressing it tightly against her mouth.
“I’ve never seen any birds like that before, even on National Geographic,” Joe exclaimed. “We did it. We really did it!”
“Gee. I’m disappointed. No thunder, dizzying winds, or even smelly smoke,” Nan said in a super-casual voice, but her eyes glittered—and when she looked away, she dashed her thin wrist across her face in a defiant gesture.
“This is great,” Joe said, pretending not to notice. “It’s even warm.” He pulled off his winter gloves, and stuck them into his coat pocket. Then he shrugged off his coat and slung it over his backpack. “Shall we look around?”
“We should try to find them,” Nan said.
“Yeah. Right. So where do we go?”
They looked around more slowly.
The sandy beach was not very wide. Maybe half the length of a football field away, a line of dark green indicated closely growing shrubs and trees. In the dusky light, Joe couldn’t tell if the tree-shapes were familiar or not, outside of being green. In either direction the white sands stretched. And behind them lay a sea, silvery-blue in the light of a sinking sun.
“It’s not red.” Nan pointed. “It’s pale gold.”
The sunset colors ranged through all the blue-spectrum, with little red. Just above the forest line, where the sky was already a deep indigo, winked bits of colored light—stars. In no constellations either of them had ever seen.
Joe sucked in a deep breath. The air smelled of dust, salt-tang, and an herb-scent he couldn’t identify. “We’re here. I think I’m beginning to really believe it.”
Nan returned his smile, the first really friendly gesture she’d ever made, then she turned away, pointing toward the brush. “I think that may be a trail. Maybe we’d better take a look before it gets totally dark.”
Barefoot Pirate Page 3