Bloodstone
Page 34
“Who? Oh, the guard at the checkpoint? Well, it can be a little complicated getting in and out of Dead—I mean, the part of town where I live. They don’t let people in unless they have business there.”
“Or live there.”
“Right. Or live there.”
She stirred her ice cream, making it soupy. “So the people who live there can’t get out, either?”
“That depends. The zombies—” Fear flickered across her face at the word, so I backpedaled. “You know, the people they call the ‘previously deceased.’ They can’t come and go whenever they feel like it. Someone has to sponsor them, get a permit, before they can leave.”
“That’s paperwork?”
“It’s one kind of paperwork. If someone from outside wants to visit where I live, they need to get permission from the city, and that’s the kind of paperwork he was talking about. It’s sort of like getting a visa when you travel to another country.”
“Do you have to do that?”
“Nope. I’m a different classification, a demi-human, so it’s easier for me. I just have to show my ID card. They swipe it, and I’m through.” I wouldn’t go into the intricacies of traveling outside of Boston. “Piece of cake. You saw how easy it was.”
“Mom thinks I’m one of those. What you just said you are.”
“A demi-human.”
“I heard her talking to Dad last night. She was crying. She said it would kill her to take me to Deadtown to live. So I . . .”
Ah. “So you thought you’d make it easier on her by coming to Deadtown yourself.”
Brimming tears spilled from one eye, then the other, as she nodded.
I slid out of my seat and scooted in beside her, catching her in a hug. She pressed her face against me.
“You know how moms worry about everything, right?” I said, stroking her hair. “Your mom doesn’t know what will happen yet. Nobody does. And nobody is going to make you live in Deadtown if you don’t want to. Your mom and I won’t let them.”
“Are there kids there?”
“Some. Tell you what. One of these days, we’ll do that paperwork and you can come for a visit. A sleepover, if you want—and if your parents will let you.” I gave Maria a hug and then reached for my ice cream dish. “We’ve got even better ice cream over there.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. Zombies are big eaters. It’s junk food heaven.”
Her smile was more genuine this time. “Maybe that’s why Mom doesn’t want me to live there. She’d freak if she knew I was having ice cream for lunch.”
Oh, Maria. I could guarantee that Gwen would be freaking over far more than a late-morning sugar rush.
For several minutes, I watched my niece eat her sundae. “You want to tell me about your dream? The one you called me about?”
She licked the last drops of peanut butter sauce from her spoon. “I don’t remember it as much now. But it wasn’t like those other dreams I told you about. I wasn’t flying or running or swimming. It was . . . I remember there was this mist with different colors. It was so pretty. And a lady came through. She said you needed help. Everything else is kind of fuzzy. There was something about the aquarium, but I don’t know how that fit in. Anyway, I woke up really worried about you.”
“You had your mom call to make sure I was okay.”
Maria nodded. “She said she left you a message, and when she went to yell at Zack to hurry up in the bathroom, I tried calling you, too. I wanted to tell you about the dream before I forgot it. But you weren’t there. All day at school I felt kind of sick, but then after I got home Mom told me you’d called back. She acted like I was silly to worry about a dream, but she seemed kind of mad, too.”
Maria had saved my life by answering Mab’s dream-phone call—and she didn’t even know what the dream phone was. Mab had called her an impressive child, and she was, but she was also a confused little girl. Gwen might not like it, but I owed Maria an explanation of what happened.
“So let me tell you about that dream. Your mom’s part of the family—mine, too—is called the Cerddorion. We’re part human, but we’re also more than human. And that means we can do some cool things.”
“Like shapeshift?”
“Yes, that’s part of it. We can also communicate with each other while we’re asleep. When we were your age, your mom and I called it the dream phone.”
“Mom did?” Maria squinted at me skeptically.
“She did. Your mom loved the dream phone. We used it to keep talking about stuff—you know, school and music and boys—after your grandma told us to go to sleep.”
“That’s so cool.”
“You know those pretty colors you saw? Everyone who’s Cerddorion has their own special colors. When you’re asleep and you focus on somebody’s colors, you can contact that person.”
“But how can you do that if you’re asleep?”
“It’s not hard, but it takes some practice.”
“So . . . the lady I dreamed about was real?” She frowned. “And you were really in trouble?”
I nodded. “Thanks to you, she was able to help me. And here we are having ice cream together. So, you see, everything worked out fine.”
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Mab, and she’s your great-aunt.” Time to tread carefully. I didn’t want Maria getting all curious about Mab if Gwen wasn’t okay with it. “But Mab and your mom don’t get along.”
“That’s why Mom got mad?”
“Probably. Did you tell her about the dream?”
“I just said I dreamed about an old lady who told me you were in danger.”
“Well, you see. Your mom didn’t like it that Mab contacted you without her permission.” Careful, careful. “Mab is a good person. I don’t know what happened between her and your mom, but you didn’t do anything wrong by letting her into your dream, okay?”
“Because I helped you.”
“Right. You helped me out a lot.”
Maria smiled at that. “Can you show me how to do the dream phone?”
“If your mom says it’s okay.” At this point, there wasn’t really anything Gwen could do to prevent Maria from experimenting with the dream phone, but I wasn’t going to encourage it behind Gwen’s back, either. “Speaking of your mom, I think we should call her now, don’t you?”
Maria bit her lip, thinking, then nodded. “I guess so. She’ll be worried when I don’t get off the school bus.”
Except try making a call when you don’t have a mobile phone. Maria was supposed to carry one of those kids’ cell phones for emergencies, but she’d left it home because she didn’t want to turn it on and find it filled with frantic messages from Gwen.
I was the one who’d have the pleasure of talking with a frantic Gwen. But I could handle my sister.
I asked the waitress if there was a pay phone nearby. She scratched her head, as if trying to remember what a pay phone was, and then she said I could use the restaurant’s phone if it was a local call and I was quick.
I was glad about the “quick” part when Gwen’s voice exploded over the line. “Where are you? Where’s Maria?”
“We’re in an ice cream shop near Downtown Crossing. Everything’s fine, Gwen.”
“Put her on.” Gwen’s voice thrummed with anger. It seemed like a good idea to let her calm down before she spoke with Maria.
“She’s on the other side of the room. It’s okay, I can see her. But I’m using the restaurant’s phone and I promised to keep this short.”
“Her school called this morning to report that she was absent. I’ve been sick with worry ever since. Do you hear me? Sick!” Gwen voice kept creeping up the scale. It was a full octave higher than when she’d answered the phone. “When I called your apartment to see whether you’d heard from her, do you know who answered?”
“Gwen—”
“You tell that old bitch she is not to go anywhere near my daughter. Not in dreams, and not in the waking world. Got that?”
“We can talk about that later. Right now—”
“Do. You. Understand?”
“Yes. Yes, Gwen, I do. Now, let’s figure out how to get Maria home.”
“Wait for me at South Station. I’ll be on the next train. No, damn it, I have to be here when Zack gets home from kindergarten. All right, I’ll pick him up and then drive in—”
“Listen, there’s no need to haul the boys into town. It might be easiest if I drop her off at Nicks office.”
“He’s not there. He’s at a training seminar all afternoon.”
“Okay, then how about I bring her out there? You and I need to talk, anyway. Let’s do it at your house instead of in the middle of Boston.” I didn’t have the proper permit to go all the way to Needham, but I didn’t care.
“You’re right, we do need to talk. Again.” Gwen’s voice barely contained her anger. “All right, are you driving or taking the train?”
I hadn’t picked up my Jag from the shop yet, so I told her we’d take the train.
Working out the details calmed Gwen down. Before we hung up, she said, “You should’ve called me earlier. But thanks for taking care of Maria. Tell her I love her.”
“I will.”
And I did. Maria rolled her eyes like she’d been practicing for just such an occasion, but she also looked pleased and a little relieved. And very, very ready to go home.
20
AS THE TRAIN PULLED INTO NEEDHAM HEIGHTS STATION, Gwen stood tiptoe on the platform, scanning the passing windows. Maria and I both waved, and as the train screeched to a stop, Gwen came over to our car.
Maria went down the steps a little hesitantly, but when Gwen opened her arms wide she flew to her mom. Gwen folded her into a hug as if she’d never, ever let go again. I waited, standing off to the side, giving them their moment.
“Or live there.”
“Right. Or live there.”
She stirred her ice cream, making it soupy. “So the people who live there can’t get out, either?”
“That depends. The zombies—” Fear flickered across her face at the word, so I backpedaled. “You know, the people they call the ‘previously deceased.’ They can’t come and go whenever they feel like it. Someone has to sponsor them, get a permit, before they can leave.”
“That’s paperwork?”
“It’s one kind of paperwork. If someone from outside wants to visit where I live, they need to get permission from the city, and that’s the kind of paperwork he was talking about. It’s sort of like getting a visa when you travel to another country.”
“Do you have to do that?”
“Nope. I’m a different classification, a demi-human, so it’s easier for me. I just have to show my ID card. They swipe it, and I’m through.” I wouldn’t go into the intricacies of traveling outside of Boston. “Piece of cake. You saw how easy it was.”
“Mom thinks I’m one of those. What you just said you are.”
“A demi-human.”
“I heard her talking to Dad last night. She was crying. She said it would kill her to take me to Deadtown to live. So I . . .”
Ah. “So you thought you’d make it easier on her by coming to Deadtown yourself.”
Brimming tears spilled from one eye, then the other, as she nodded.
I slid out of my seat and scooted in beside her, catching her in a hug. She pressed her face against me.
“You know how moms worry about everything, right?” I said, stroking her hair. “Your mom doesn’t know what will happen yet. Nobody does. And nobody is going to make you live in Deadtown if you don’t want to. Your mom and I won’t let them.”
“Are there kids there?”
“Some. Tell you what. One of these days, we’ll do that paperwork and you can come for a visit. A sleepover, if you want—and if your parents will let you.” I gave Maria a hug and then reached for my ice cream dish. “We’ve got even better ice cream over there.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. Zombies are big eaters. It’s junk food heaven.”
Her smile was more genuine this time. “Maybe that’s why Mom doesn’t want me to live there. She’d freak if she knew I was having ice cream for lunch.”
Oh, Maria. I could guarantee that Gwen would be freaking over far more than a late-morning sugar rush.
For several minutes, I watched my niece eat her sundae. “You want to tell me about your dream? The one you called me about?”
She licked the last drops of peanut butter sauce from her spoon. “I don’t remember it as much now. But it wasn’t like those other dreams I told you about. I wasn’t flying or running or swimming. It was . . . I remember there was this mist with different colors. It was so pretty. And a lady came through. She said you needed help. Everything else is kind of fuzzy. There was something about the aquarium, but I don’t know how that fit in. Anyway, I woke up really worried about you.”
“You had your mom call to make sure I was okay.”
Maria nodded. “She said she left you a message, and when she went to yell at Zack to hurry up in the bathroom, I tried calling you, too. I wanted to tell you about the dream before I forgot it. But you weren’t there. All day at school I felt kind of sick, but then after I got home Mom told me you’d called back. She acted like I was silly to worry about a dream, but she seemed kind of mad, too.”
Maria had saved my life by answering Mab’s dream-phone call—and she didn’t even know what the dream phone was. Mab had called her an impressive child, and she was, but she was also a confused little girl. Gwen might not like it, but I owed Maria an explanation of what happened.
“So let me tell you about that dream. Your mom’s part of the family—mine, too—is called the Cerddorion. We’re part human, but we’re also more than human. And that means we can do some cool things.”
“Like shapeshift?”
“Yes, that’s part of it. We can also communicate with each other while we’re asleep. When we were your age, your mom and I called it the dream phone.”
“Mom did?” Maria squinted at me skeptically.
“She did. Your mom loved the dream phone. We used it to keep talking about stuff—you know, school and music and boys—after your grandma told us to go to sleep.”
“That’s so cool.”
“You know those pretty colors you saw? Everyone who’s Cerddorion has their own special colors. When you’re asleep and you focus on somebody’s colors, you can contact that person.”
“But how can you do that if you’re asleep?”
“It’s not hard, but it takes some practice.”
“So . . . the lady I dreamed about was real?” She frowned. “And you were really in trouble?”
I nodded. “Thanks to you, she was able to help me. And here we are having ice cream together. So, you see, everything worked out fine.”
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Mab, and she’s your great-aunt.” Time to tread carefully. I didn’t want Maria getting all curious about Mab if Gwen wasn’t okay with it. “But Mab and your mom don’t get along.”
“That’s why Mom got mad?”
“Probably. Did you tell her about the dream?”
“I just said I dreamed about an old lady who told me you were in danger.”
“Well, you see. Your mom didn’t like it that Mab contacted you without her permission.” Careful, careful. “Mab is a good person. I don’t know what happened between her and your mom, but you didn’t do anything wrong by letting her into your dream, okay?”
“Because I helped you.”
“Right. You helped me out a lot.”
Maria smiled at that. “Can you show me how to do the dream phone?”
“If your mom says it’s okay.” At this point, there wasn’t really anything Gwen could do to prevent Maria from experimenting with the dream phone, but I wasn’t going to encourage it behind Gwen’s back, either. “Speaking of your mom, I think we should call her now, don’t you?”
Maria bit her lip, thinking, then nodded. “I guess so. She’ll be worried when I don’t get off the school bus.”
Except try making a call when you don’t have a mobile phone. Maria was supposed to carry one of those kids’ cell phones for emergencies, but she’d left it home because she didn’t want to turn it on and find it filled with frantic messages from Gwen.
I was the one who’d have the pleasure of talking with a frantic Gwen. But I could handle my sister.
I asked the waitress if there was a pay phone nearby. She scratched her head, as if trying to remember what a pay phone was, and then she said I could use the restaurant’s phone if it was a local call and I was quick.
I was glad about the “quick” part when Gwen’s voice exploded over the line. “Where are you? Where’s Maria?”
“We’re in an ice cream shop near Downtown Crossing. Everything’s fine, Gwen.”
“Put her on.” Gwen’s voice thrummed with anger. It seemed like a good idea to let her calm down before she spoke with Maria.
“She’s on the other side of the room. It’s okay, I can see her. But I’m using the restaurant’s phone and I promised to keep this short.”
“Her school called this morning to report that she was absent. I’ve been sick with worry ever since. Do you hear me? Sick!” Gwen voice kept creeping up the scale. It was a full octave higher than when she’d answered the phone. “When I called your apartment to see whether you’d heard from her, do you know who answered?”
“Gwen—”
“You tell that old bitch she is not to go anywhere near my daughter. Not in dreams, and not in the waking world. Got that?”
“We can talk about that later. Right now—”
“Do. You. Understand?”
“Yes. Yes, Gwen, I do. Now, let’s figure out how to get Maria home.”
“Wait for me at South Station. I’ll be on the next train. No, damn it, I have to be here when Zack gets home from kindergarten. All right, I’ll pick him up and then drive in—”
“Listen, there’s no need to haul the boys into town. It might be easiest if I drop her off at Nicks office.”
“He’s not there. He’s at a training seminar all afternoon.”
“Okay, then how about I bring her out there? You and I need to talk, anyway. Let’s do it at your house instead of in the middle of Boston.” I didn’t have the proper permit to go all the way to Needham, but I didn’t care.
“You’re right, we do need to talk. Again.” Gwen’s voice barely contained her anger. “All right, are you driving or taking the train?”
I hadn’t picked up my Jag from the shop yet, so I told her we’d take the train.
Working out the details calmed Gwen down. Before we hung up, she said, “You should’ve called me earlier. But thanks for taking care of Maria. Tell her I love her.”
“I will.”
And I did. Maria rolled her eyes like she’d been practicing for just such an occasion, but she also looked pleased and a little relieved. And very, very ready to go home.
20
AS THE TRAIN PULLED INTO NEEDHAM HEIGHTS STATION, Gwen stood tiptoe on the platform, scanning the passing windows. Maria and I both waved, and as the train screeched to a stop, Gwen came over to our car.
Maria went down the steps a little hesitantly, but when Gwen opened her arms wide she flew to her mom. Gwen folded her into a hug as if she’d never, ever let go again. I waited, standing off to the side, giving them their moment.
