Hamish X Goes to Providence Rhode Island (25 page)

“No,” Mr. Kipling said.

“Didn't he know?” Mrs. Francis asked.

“I don't know whether he knows or not, Isobel,” Mr. Kipling answered. “He was extremely rude to me.”

“What?” Mrs. Francis was aghast.

“And he told me to buy a map,” Mr. Kipling added. “Does anyone have any money?”

“What's money?” asked Xnasha.

“Not now,” Mimi said irritably. “No, we ain't got no money.”

“I'll go in there and give that boy a piece of my mind,” Mrs. Francis said indignantly.

Mimi laid a hand on the woman's arm. “No.” Mimi caught Cara's eye and grinned fiercely. She jerked her head towards the store. “We'll handle this.”

The teenager was still sitting with his feet up on the counter, leaning back in his chair, reading his comic book, when the door beeped again. He looked up to see Mimi and Cara standing on the other side of the counter. In their hands they held their fighting sticks. Taking in their Guard uniforms, the boy snorted derisively. “What's the deal? You guys selling cookies or something?”

“We want a map,” Mimi said simply.

“They're over there.”

“We don't have any money,” Cara said.

“Then yer outta luck.”

“No,” Mimi said. “You are.”

“What are you little brats gonna do …?” He didn't get the rest of his sentence out before Mimi and Cara smacked the boy's feet with their fighting sticks. Caught unawares, the boy tipped backwards and slammed flat on his back behind
the counter. Mimi vaulted over the counter, landed with her feet on either side of the boy's head, and pressed her stick into his chest, pinning him to the ground. Cara sat prettily on the counter, checking her hair in the tiny mirror at the top of a rack full of cheap sunglasses.

“Hey,” the boy whined. “What's the big idea?
Glork!”
The glork was a result of Mimi jabbing her stick into his throat.

Cara smiled and tried on a pair of sunglasses with thick white frames. “Mimi isn't happy.”

“Who's Mimi?”

“The girl with the stick in your throat.”

“Oh.” He gulped. “Why isn't she happy?”

“Our friend asked for a map. You were rude.”

“He didn't have any money.” The boy flinched as Mimi snarled at him. “Listen, there's only twenty bucks in the till. Take it.”

Cara laughed sweetly. “No, silly. We don't want to steal your money. We just want a map. Oh … and an apology.”

“Take the map. Take it!”

“And?”

“And I'm sorry.”

Cara smiled. “That's so nice of you. I think I'll take these sunglasses, too.”

“Take them,” the boy whimpered.

“Put 'em back,” Mimi growled.

“Oh, Mimi,” Cara pouted. “You are just no fun at all.”

Cara picked a map off the rack. “Thanks so much. C'mon, Mimi.” Mimi removed her stick from the boy's throat. Jumping back over the counter, she went and joined Cara at the door.

The teenager jumped to his feet. His face red, he shouted, “I'm calling the cops! It's all on camera!”

“Are you sure you want to tell everyone how two little girls kicked your butt?” Cara said, smiling.

The boy looked from her to Mimi and back and made his decision. “Don't tell anybody.”

“We won't.” Cara laughed and went out the door.

Mimi snarled at the boy and waved her stick. The boy hid behind the counter. Mimi shook her head. “So sad.” She turned and left the store accompanied by the beeping of the chime.

Armed with the map, they checked their location and plotted their route into the centre of Providence, where ODA Headquarters was located on a residential road inappropriately named Angell Street.

Chapter 25

They had come ashore in the wee hours
⁸⁰
of the morning. The light pollution from the city prevented them from seeing the stars up above. Xnasha was only slightly disappointed. They had moored the submarine in the port of Providence in the shadow of a rusty freighter. Mr. Kipling felt confident that the ship they chose to hide behind was a derelict waiting for scrap. No one would be paying much attention to it, and so it was unlikely that the Atlantean craft would be discovered.

“It probably won't matter much,” Mimi said. “We ain't likely comin' back fer her.”

“Mimi! Try to be a little more positive!” Mrs. Francis admonished. The older woman had managed to scramble up onto the pier with the help of the Guards and Mr. Kipling without falling into the water, which was a miracle in itself.

Xnasha looked around at all the electric lights shining down on the ships and twinkling across the harbour from
the houses of the city. Her mouth hung open in wonder. “It's so beautiful.”

“Beautiful? It's a stinky old port,” Cara said.

“You just don't understand.” Xnasha laughed. “I've spent my whole life wanting to come to the surface, to see for myself. To see the sky.” The Atlantean woman raised her hands into the air. “It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen.”

From then on, as they trooped through the streets of the sleeping town in their quest, first to find a map and then to find ODA Headquarters, Xnasha continuously exasperated them with her exclamations of wonder at the most mundane things. A lamppost, a car, a fire hydrant: all could elicit a gasp of awestruck wonder from Xnasha. They were delayed for a full half-hour while she marvelled at a stray cat that wandered out into the middle of the road. Mimi tried to be patient, but she finally had to put her foot down. Xnasha reluctantly agreed to keep moving despite her desire to examine every new thing the surface world had to offer. After three hours and several wrong turns, they arrived at last at Angell Street and the Headquarters of the Orphan Disposal Agency.

The house was a shock. Mimi had expected a fortress, a tower, or perhaps a dark and foreboding palace of evil. Instead, ODA Headquarters was a simple white house on a pleasant tree-lined street. The garden was well tended, full of pink and white petunias. The lawn was green and lush, lovingly trimmed and surrounded by a white picket fence. A cobblestone path led to a brightly painted green door. On the gate, a small brass plaque announced discreetly:

World Headquarters

Orphan Disposal Agency

No Peddlers!

No Junk Mail!

Mimi and Cara looked at the sign, their faces blank.

“This is ODA Headquarters?” Cara asked.

“Oh, my,” Mrs. Francis said. “It looks just, well, fine!”

“Those are lovely petunias,” Mr. Kipling pointed out.

“I don't know.” Mimi shrugged. “I guess I was thinkin' it would look, ya know, more evil.”

“Oh no,” Xnasha said softly. “This place is evil enough. I can feel it. All of your world is strange to me, but I feel something here. This is a bad place.”

“She's right,” Cara agreed. “Listen …”

“Listen to what?” Mimi demanded. “I cain't hear nothin'.”

“No, you can't because you won't stop talking. Really listen!”

Mimi scowled but kept quiet, straining to hear any sound in the silence.

Cara whispered, “See? There are no birds. No squirrels. Not even an insect.”

Cara was right. Mimi hadn't noticed the change, but once it was pointed out to her, it was obvious. The house was dead despite its pleasant outward appearance. Mimi looked up and down the street. The houses were unusually quiet. No children played in the front yards. The windows were empty and dark. The whole street seemed to be dead, yet the grass and the trees were green and lush. But they looked more like props in a stage play than living things. Even the sunlight seemed sterile. The whole street was a facade built to hide the sinister intent of the ODA.

“What do we do?” Cara asked. For once, she was ready to defer to Mimi's judgment.

“I don't like this place at all,” Mrs. Francis fretted.

Xnasha's wide blue eyes gazed at the front door of the house. “We shouldn't be here,” she said, her voice the barest whisper. “This is an evil place.”

A murmur of assent rippled through the Guards. Mimi straightened her shoulders. “Yup. This is an evil place. But we all knew what we was gettin' ourselves into when we signed up. This ain't no time ta turn tail. Anybody who don't wanna go in, now's the time to leave and nobody'll think no worse of ya. I, for one, have to go in. They got my friend Parv in there, and I know they got friends of yers in there
and family, too.” She paused to look Cara in the eye. “I gotta go in there 'cause I know Parv'd do the same fer me.”

Mrs. Francis dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. “That was lovely, dear.”

“Oh, brother!” Mimi rolled her eyes. Her little speech finished, she turned and lifted the latch on the wooden gate and stepped onto the path that led to the front door. Everyone held their breath, waiting for lightning to strike, sirens to wail, and alarms to sound, but none of these things happened. Mimi resolutely walked up the cobblestones to the brightly painted front door.

Bravery and cowardice are delicately balanced emotions. A drop of fear distilled into the middle of a crowd is like a poison that taints the souls of all, causing a ruinous rout and a catastrophic defeat. A little morsel of bravery can sustain an army. Seeing Mimi's courage roused the others to action. They moved to follow.

Mimi climbed the three shallow steps to the porch. Lying in front of the door was a black mat that read “Welcome” in big white letters.

“We'll see about that,” Mimi muttered under her breath. Feeling the others coming up behind her, she reached out and grasped the simple brass doorknocker, bringing it down once, twice, thrice.
⁸¹
The sound echoed behind the door. Xnasha and Cara joined Mimi on the porch with Mr. Kipling and Mrs. Francis right behind them.

For a full minute, they waited. There was no response. Mimi raised her hand to try knocking again but stopped when she heard a woman's voice saying faintly, “I'm
coming! I'm coming! Oh, dearie me.” Footsteps shuffled to the door. With a rattle of locks, the knob turned and the door opened. Mimi's hand fell to the stun pistol at her hip. She prepared for a fight.

She found it hard to conceal her surprise when the door opened to reveal the sweetest little old lady one could ever imagine. Standing there, her flower print dress faded, a threadbare pink cardigan over her shoulders, the old woman smiled, her face a nest of pleasant wrinkles with a pair of twinkling blue eyes as its centrepiece. Mimi had never known either of her grandmothers, and just looking at the woman in the doorway seemed to fill that void in her life. As the group waited, the old woman raised her wire-framed bifocals from where they dangled from a chain around her neck and placed them on her face.

“Oh my,” the old woman said. “Oh my. What have we here? Is it Halloween? I've completely forgotten to get candy. Oh dear.”

The woman's voice was soothing. Mimi found the tension melting away. She dropped her hand from her pistol. Part of her mind was aware that she should be careful, suspicious, but that part seemed very far away, a tiny voice in the distance.

“Excuse me, ma'am. We was lookin' for somethin' … somebody else.”

“Really? Oh, well. It's been so long since I've had visitors. Are you sure you wouldn't like to come in? I have just finished baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies and I'm sure I won't be able to eat them all myself.” The old woman smiled hopefully.

Once again, Mimi heard the tiny voice shout its warning, but she ignored it. “That's sounds mighty good.” Mimi
glanced at Cara and saw the same bemused smile she was sure was present on her own face. “If it ain't too much trouble.”

“Not at all.” The old woman smiled again, revealing neat, even teeth. “Come right in.”

Mimi moved forward to enter the house, but someone grabbed her arm. She turned to find Xnasha, her eyes wide with alarm, holding her back.

“Mimi,” Xnasha hissed urgently. “You can't go in there!”

“Why not?” Mimi felt vaguely angry at having been delayed from entering the pretty little house. “I'm gonna have some cookies.”

“Yes, Xnasha,” Mrs. Francis scolded. “You shouldn't be so rude.” Xnasha looked into the housekeeper's face and saw the same dreamy look in the older woman's eyes.

“It's a trap,” Xnasha insisted. “You can't go in there.”

“Nonsense!” Mr. Kipling held his arm out for Mrs. Francis, who took it. “Let's get some cookies.”

The old woman's eyes narrowed slightly. “What's the problem? Those cookies are waiting.”

Mimi snarled and pulled her arm away, suddenly flooded with anger. “Let go a me! You just want all the cookies fer yerself.” She stomped up the steps and into the house before Xnasha could grab her again. Cara followed quickly afterwards, trailed by the other Guards. Xnasha stood by, unsure of what to do. The old woman smiled, but the smile held no warmth. “What's the matter, dear? Don't you like cookies?”