She had never had a cat for a pet.
It blinked at her and turned to study Edmund, so Matt looked around.
The front half of the A-frame, where they had entered, rose all the way to the ceiling. Halfway to the back of the cabin, there was a loft with a ladder leading up to it; Matt saw a bed up there, and some other furniture in the dimness beyond.
In the front half, a tan cloth-covered couch stood against the left wall, with a sixties-era wooden coffee table in front of it. Overburdened bookshelves and a television/VCR on a stand stood in front of the right wall. A worn, braided rag rug covered the floor between them.
Past the couch was a little dining/office area, with a computer desk by the left wall and a gray card table by the right. Three brown folding metal chairs surrounded the available sides of the card table.
Below the loft were the cabin’s kitchen, bathroom, and closet. In the center of the rear of the kitchen stood a small Franklin stove on a sheet of fireproof material; its stovepipe rose up through a hole in the loft before hitting the ceiling.
The bathroom door stood open. Matt could see that it was a lot like a bathroom in an RV: small and ingenious in its use of available space under the severely slanted ceiling.
Head-high shelves ran along the walls in the two-story part of the house. On the shelves dolls stood shoulder to shoulder and stared down at them. Baby dolls, Barbies (one wearing a space suit), porcelain dolls in antique outfits, tiny dolls that resembled cartoon characters, rag dolls, including a tie-dyed Raggedy Ann, action figures representing comic book heroes and villains, foot-tall dolls of Star Trek characters, a gypsy doll, a doll from India, a small Scottish doll wearing a kilt and playing bagpipes—too many dolls to see all at once, and all of them stared down at Matt.
“Okay,” said Deirdre, when Matt had stared back at the dolls for more than a minute. “Please take a seat. Want some coffee? How about tea?”
Edmund went to the couch and sat down. “What kind of tea do you have?”
“Black tea, lemon zinger, peppermint, some other herbal stuff I stole from the restaurant. Do you have a favorite?”
“Peppermint sounds great,” he said.
“Matt?”
Matt shook her head. She couldn’t win a staring contest with dolls. They never blinked. Dolls? In Julio’s memory of Deirdre, there was nothing about dolls. Just this stoic, sturdy girl who liked to beat people up.
“I like the regular kind of tea, if you have milk and sugar for it,” Matt said. “Thanks.” She went over to the couch and sat down next to Edmund. She leaned against him, and he dropped his arm around her shoulders.
What would these dolls say if she talked to them? Maybe she’d find out more than was fair about Deirdre, so she better not try it. One of the porcelain dolls had a such face, though, with wide brown glass eyes, her painted lips open to show two tiny teeth, as though she were about to speak. Matt’s hands itched to pick her up.
The cat jumped on the couch and curled up against Matt. Which was confusing. If the cat didn’t want to be petted, why had it come so close? She opened dream-eyes and stared at the cat, wondering if she could get a clue to what it wanted.
She hadn’t tried looking at animal dreams before. Or if she had, maybe she had gotten the same result. Nothing. Wrong frequency dreams.
In the kitchen, Deirdre stored her leftovers in the refrigerator, put water into a teakettle and set it on the stove, got mugs and tea bags out of a cupboard and put them on a tray. Then she came to the living room. She carried one of the metal chairs over and sat facing them across the coffee table.
“The cat,” said Matt.
“Guess he likes you.”
“But he doesn’t like to be petted?”
“No. He just likes to be close. Is he bothering you?”
“No.”
“Good. If he is, just flap your hand back and forth fast in front of his nose, and he’ll leave. Or bite you.” Deirdre smiled.
“Great,” said Matt.
“Deirdre, why did you come here instead of going back to Guthrie?” Edmund asked.
“I did go back one time. I took Andrew. My boyfriend, later my husband, now my ex. I took him to meet Nathan. Nathan didn’t even recognize me at first.” She stared at the floor and shook her head. “So strange.”
“He told us you came back. He said he talked to you,” Matt said. “He showed us a picture of you grown up.”
“He what?”
“Except you had short hair, and you were wearing a dress.”
“How could he show you a picture of me? I don’t get it. Nathan knows how to use a camera?”
“No, it’s magic. The house can make stuff appear.”
“Remember the furniture?” Edmund said.
“Oh, yeah. It can make people appear too? Solid?”
“Not solid, but their images. Matt taught it how to do that.”
Deirdre raised her eyebrows. Matt shrugged.
“Huh.” Deirdre frowned. “Short hair? I guess I did go through a short hair period while I was in school. No wonder he didn’t know me.”
“And you got a lot taller,” Matt said.
“How could you possibly know that?”
Matt sucked on her lower lip, then glanced up at Edmund.
“Nathan showed us an image of you as a kid, too,” Edmund said. “He was introducing you guys to Matt.”
“And I had that dream,” Matt said.
Edmund rested his hand against Matt’s head. “The house gets in her dreams,” he told Deirdre. “I never told her the story of Julio and the demon-guy. The house gave her a dream about it.”
“Holy shit,” Deirdre said. She narrowed her eyes and stared at Matt. “The house gives you dreams? I don’t remember it doing that to people before. Do you, Ed?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t sleep over when we were kids. I had a dream the first night I spent there a couple months ago, but it was just a regular weird dream. Matt’s dream was like reliving our history.”
“How would that work?” Deirdre asked.
Matt gazed at the braided rag rug on the floor for a little while. Then she glanced up. “I dreamed I was Julio. I dreamed the kidnap by that demon-controller guy, and the rescue, and everything in between, and the stuff afterward.”
“Do you read minds? Or is it like some kind of fortune-telling?”
“The house put the dream in my head.”
Deirdre’s hands clasped each other, the fingers interlacing. She rested her chin on her crossed thumbs. “I don’t understand this—” she began. The teakettle shrilled.
Deirdre ran to pull it off the burner. She poured hot water into three mugs, dropped tea bags into the mugs, took a small pitcher and a sugar bowl out of a cupboard and filled the pitcher with milk, put spoons and paper napkins onto the tray, then brought the tray over and set it on the coffee table.
“The house gave you a true dream,” Deirdre said.
“It seemed true,” Matt said, “and Edmund remembers some of the same things, so I guess that’s right. It gave me a dream about Suki before we went to find her, too.”
“What about me?”
“You were in the Julio dream. I dreamed I was your coat. You held on to me when the whole world kept singing to me to let go. You saved me.”
Deirdre sat back and studied Matt.
“And I—and he touched your face near your mouth, because you were talking and he wanted to feel the words, they kept him grounded, and you said, ‘Okay, yeah, just don’t cover my mouth. I need to breathe.’” Matt’s voice shifted higher and younger as she quoted Deirdre.
Deirdre touched the corner of her mouth, her eyes soft. Then she blinked and focused on Matt. “That’s right. That’s what I said.” She frowned, her brows fierce. “How could the house know all that stuff? We weren’t even there when that happened.”
“The house talked to Julio after. It touched minds with him. They shared memories.”
Deirdre shivered. “I didn’t kn
ow the house could do that. It’s kind of creepy. Why would the house tell you that stuff, anyway?”
“It likes me. It knows I’m helping Edmund find his friends. When we couldn’t find Julio on the map, Edmund and Suki talked about this whole Julio-demon thing, but they wouldn’t tell me what happened, so the house said it would. It gave me the dream.”
Deirdre made a ticking noise with her tongue against the roof of her mouth, then leaned forward. “Here’s your tea, Matt,” she said, choosing a green mug with gold scribbles on it. She handed over a napkin and spoon.
“Thanks.” Matt set the napkin in her lap. The mug was hot in her hand. She dumped milk and sugar into the tea as Deirdre handed a blue mug to Edmund.
Deirdre said, “The house likes you. Edmund likes you. I’ve got to figure Nathan and Susan do too, right?”
Matt stopped blowing on her tea and gazed at Deirdre.
“It’s sort of like meeting the in-laws, isn’t it?” Deirdre said. She dumped three spoonfuls of sugar into her tea and stirred. “I like you too, and I don’t even know you. If the house thinks it’s okay to tell you stuff like that, it’s got to mean something.”
Matt sipped tea. Strong, in spite of the sugar and milk. Sweet and bitter and smoky on her tongue. “So will you come home with us?”
“What?” Deirdre’s eyes widened. She blinked. She blinked again.
“You never answered my question,” Edmund said. “Why here? What are you looking for? Are you running away, or running to something? Maybe it’s none of my business,”
Deirdre pursed her lips. “I’ve lived here seven years. There’s work here, and I love my work. I help things heal. Animals are great, you know? They never expect you to be anything except what you are. I’ve got just enough money to manage things. I know everybody in town now, and I know where to get anything I want. Sometimes I’ve got to drive a ways to get it, but I know where it is. I’m settled.” She thought about that for a minute, then drank tea.
“Do you ever take a vacation?” Matt asked.
Deirdre smiled at Matt over the top of her mug. “Last year I went to Crater Lake.”
“So do you have vacation time coming?”
“I’m my own boss. I have a couple surgeries scheduled for tomorrow morning, three other animals boarding that I should keep an eye on, and people have appointments every day.” Her brow furrowed. “‘Are you really inviting me to go back to Guthrie with you?”
“Yes,” said Matt.
“Why?”
“Don’t you want to see Suki again? Or Nathan?”
Deirdre put her mug down and ticked with her tongue again, a thinking sound. “I’m curious, and I’m still mad at everybody for leaving me, except I feel guilty about leaving Nathan, which doesn’t make it easy to go back. Susan was the only girlfriend I had while I was a teenager. But that was a long lime ago. Jeeze, why mess with it now? I’m fine as is. Calm and collected. Maybe even serene. Who wants to go stir up a bunch of old mud?” She looked toward the front door. “But then again, something strange happened the other day. Which reminds me.”
She went to the fridge and pulled out the leftovers box she’d gotten from the restaurant.
The cat rose to its feet on the couch, alert and staring at the box.
“Not for you, Mr. P.,” Deirdre said. She slipped out the front door and closed it behind her before the cat mobilized. When she returned a moment later, her hands were empty.
“Your coyote?” Edmund asked.
Deirdre sat again, and nodded. “Or some other creature. I’m not sure the coyote comes back. But there are hungry animals out there. I know I shouldn’t get in the habit of feeding them. It interferes with their natures. But she was …” She shook her head.
She chewed on her lip for a minute, then said, “Edmund, can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure. What would you like?”
“Will you—will you show me some magic?”
He smiled. “You looking for anything specific? I’m out of the habit of showing off.”
Deirdre glanced around the cabin. Her gaze roved along the shelves of dolls. Slowly, she stood up, went over, and picked up a four-inch-tall G.I. Joe soldier doll, extremely detailed and poseable: he had elbow, knee, shoulder, and hip joints, and his waist and head could turn. Some of the camo color on his uniform was chipped and scuffed. Deirdre bent his arms back and forth, her forehead pinched into a frown, then walked over and handed him to Edmund.
He cradled the doll in his palm. After a moment, he gave it to Matt.
—Hi,—she said.
—Greetings,—the doll said. —Name? Rank? Serial number?—
—Matt. Human. I don’t have a serial number. Do you?—
—I used to. Back in the mud days. I had a name, a rank, a serial number, and lots of adventures. I’ve been in deep freeze for a long time now, though. Wait. Jonny. My name was Jonny.—
Matt glanced at Edmund, then at Deirdre. Deirdre was giving her a total-attention stare.
—Did you ever think about walking around on your own?—Matt asked Jonny.
—Think about it? I dreamed about it, longed for it. I don’t have any good enemies right now, but I wouldn’t mind a recon mission.—
—Why don’t you give it a try?—
—You mean—His arm turned slowly. His elbow bent. He straightened both arms, bent both elbows. He sat up.—You mean—I could have been doing this all along?—
—I don’t know,—Matt said. She set him carefully down on the coffee table.
He rose to his feet. He walked several steps forward, pivoted, and walked back.
“Mrrrr?” said Pepe, inching to the edge of the couch, blue eyes fixed on the walking doll. Matt grabbed the cat before it could pounce. It glared up at her and made grumpy sounds.
Jonny marched to the edge of the table and saluted Deirdre.—Sergeant Box reporting for duty, sir.—
Deirdre returned his salute. She blinked and stared at Matt. “How did you do that?” she whispered.
Matt shook her head. “I didn’t do it. He did it. I just talked to him. He says he’s Sergeant Jonny Box and he used to have lots of adventures.”
“Jonny,” Deirdre said. “That’s right.” She rubbed her eye. Then she put her hands down in front of the doll. “I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t do adventures the way I used to.”
The soldier climbed up onto her hand. He gripped her thumb.
“He’s awake now? Will he stay awake?” Deirdre asked Matt. “What am I going to do with him? I can’t—I don’t—” Her face twisted in distress.
—I’ll go back to guard duty, sir,—the soldier said, saluting her again.
Matt translated for him.
“Oh. Thank you, Sergeant.” She walked to the shelf she had taken him from and held her hand up to it. Jonny climbed off her hand and straightened to attention.
“At ease,” Deirdre said.
He shifted into another position.
She stared at him for a long moment, then went back to her chair, “Oh, Matt. Could you do that with all of them?”
“I don’t know. Some things are more awake than others. The stuff people spend the most time with gets its own consciousness. I guess you must’ve played with him a lot, huh?”
Deirdre nodded. “He was my favorite. Those G.I. Joe dolls were really sturdy and well made. They could take a lot of punishment.” She shot the doll another glance. It didn’t move. “Is he still awake?”
“I don’t know. I think he’ll settle down again. Things are used to only being used some of the time. It’s how they live. I don’t think they mind it. Did you want me to talk to anything else?”
Deirdre looked around again, studying each doll in turn. She paused two or three times in her survey, but finally shook her head. “I’d feel horrible having to leave them alone again. Do they tell you stories?”
“Sometimes,” Matt let go of the cat. It jumped down off the couch, gave her a glare, and stalked away. “Most things like to talk. I like to
listen. Works out pretty good.”
Deirdre smiled. “Well, thanks. Thanks a lot.”
“Is that what you wanted, or would you like something else?” Edmund asked.
“No, that was just great. Matt did that? You didn’t do it.”
“That’s right,” Edmund said. “I could have made him move, but I don’t have Matt’s gift, which is the gift to let things move for themselves.”
“What do you have?”
He glanced at Matt. “I haven’t done an inventory lately.”
“You can float. You can fly. You get mad really good. You can turn into things, you can help things, and you can talk to things, too.” Matt turned to Deirdre. “He knows how to listen. He can throw dust in the air. He’s really good at that. And he does this dowsing thing. That’s how we found you, with a map and a fishing weight. I love that trick.”
“Sure doesn’t sound like the stuff you used to do.” Deirdre said.
Edmund shrugged and smiled at her.
“He can probably still do a bunch of that stuff. He just doesn’t. You would if you had to, wouldn’t you?” Matt asked Edmund.
“Sure.”
“He could do requests, I bet.”
“That’s okay. I don’t know what to wish for, and from what I’ve seen, wishing’s kind of dangerous anyway.” Deirdre checked her watch. “Hey. I’m glad you guys came. I better return to my regularly scheduled life now, though. I have to get up early tomorrow for surgery, and I’ll need to shower before and after. I only have enough hot water for one shower at a time. It takes about two hours to refill. One of you could shower tonight, and one could shower later in the morning tomorrow, unless you’re going to take off bright and early. Are you leaving tomorrow?”
Edmund looked perplexed.
“We will if you come with us,” Matt said.
Deirdre shook her head, smiling. “Tell you what, I’ll sleep on it. Let me show you how everything works.”
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