Night's Favour (40 page)

“Sure.
 
Scarlett.
 
I’m —”

“Adalia.
 
I know.
 
My Mom told me.”

“Elsie?”

“Yes.
 
She said I’m not going to die.”

Adalia stared at Birkita through the glass.
 
“Wow.
 
You’re going to die?”

“No, she said I wasn’t.”

“Scarlett, what are you sick with?”

“They say it’s cancer.”

Even Adalia had heard of cancer.
 
It was on the TV all the time.
 
“How does Elsie know you’re going to live, Scarlett?”

“Mom said she’s got a plan to get a man here who can help.”

“A man?
 
Like a doctor?”

“No.”
 
Birkita looked a little confused.
 
“That’s the super weird thing.
 
He’s just some guy.”

“Well, how’s he supposed to help then?”

“I don’t know.
 
She told me to look up,”
 
and Birkita’s face scrunched up, “‘Lysogenic virus reproduction’ on the Internet.”

“What’s that mean?”

“You know what a virus is?”

“Not really.”

“Hm.
 
Well, sometimes you get sick, right?
 
Like with a cold?”

“Yeah.
 
I get sick.”
 
Adalia thought about it for a moment.
 
“I get to stay home from school.”

“Lucky.”
 
Birkita frowned.
 
“Going to school, I mean.
 
I don’t get to go to school.”

“You’re the lucky one!”
 
Adalia laughed.
 
“It’s so boring!
 
There’s teachers and all they do is talk, blah blah blah, about stuff.”

Birkita’s mouth quirked.
 
“I remember.
 
I used to go to school.
 
Before, I mean.”

“You stopped?
 
Because of the cancer?”

“I guess.
 
My mom has a man who comes here and home schools me.
 
And I have the Internet.”

“Is the cancer caused by a… by a virus?”

“No.”
 
Birkita shrugged.
 
“But the man has a virus that’s going to help.”

“How?”

“Well, the virus is like a secret agent.
 
And it’s going to get inside the cancer, and take it over — bang!”

“Won’t that make you sick?”

“I hope not.
 
It takes me a long time to get better if I get sick.”

“Is the man sick?”

“Mom said no.
 
He’s got this virus, but it makes people better.”

“Really?”
 
Adalia looked doubtful.
 
“You think that’d have been on the TV or something.
 
What’s his name?”

“The man?
 
It’s a silly name.
 
Valentine.”

“Valentine?”
 
Adalia’s mouth fell open.
 
“I know Valentine.
 
He’s super nice.”
 
She reached for Prancer on the table.
 
“He gave me Prancer.
 
She’s a magic horse.
 
But he never said anything about being able to make people better.”

“Hm.
 
It might be a different Valentine.”

“I never met anyone named Valentine before.”
 
Adalia looked at Prancer.
 
“It’d be funny if there were two Valentines.”

Birkita looked at Prancer.
 
“What happened to your pony?”

“Valentine said she belonged to a girl who had an accident.
 
But she grants wishes.”

“That’s silly.
 
Nothing grants wishes.”

“I tell you what.
 
I’ll wish something for you.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll wish for Valentine.
 
To come here.”

The memory came sudden and sharp, and she gave a little cry before sitting on the ground.
 
Birkita rushed forward to her side of the glass, putting her hands on it.
 
“What is it?”

“Valentine.”
 
Adalia started to cry.
 
“I don’t think he can come here.”

“Why not?”

“He — he was trying.
 
To save me.
 
Some men came.
 
They — Mandy — Oh.”
 
She stopped.

“Adalia?”

Adalia looked up, tears on her face.
 
“I don’t think Valentine’s ok anymore, Scarlett.
 
I don’t think he’s ok at all.”

“Why?
 
How?”

“Some men came, and, and, they used guns.
 
They hurt Mandy, and they hurt Valentine, and he fell from the helicopter, and I’ll never see him again.”

Birkita stood on the other side of the glass as Adalia cried on the ground.
 
“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.
 
You’ve been stuck in here.”

“I know.
 
But I’m sorry anyway.”
 
Birkita took one of her hands away from the glass but left the one there.
 
“Look, I can’t go to where you are.
 
I’ll get sick.
 
But — if you touch the glass.
 
It’ll be like I’m there.”

Adalia sniffed, but climbed to her feet.
 
She walked up to the glass, and put her hand against the glass where Birkita’s was.
 
There was a chiming sound, and the glass lit briefly, freezing their pictures in place.

“There.”

“What?”
 
Adalia stepped back from the glass, looking up at it.
 
“What just happened?”

“It took our photo.
 
Even when we’re asleep, you can press on the glass in the corner, and it will light up and show you the photo.
 
If you ever need a friend, you can look at my picture there.”
 
Birkita looked down at her feet.
 
“If you need a friend.”

“I —”
 
Adalia pressed the glass in the corner, and a picture popped up of Birkita, her hand on the glass.
 
She saw that her eyes were sad, even though she had a small smile on her face.
 
“Thank you, Scarlett.
 
I need a friend.”

“You should still do it.”

“Do what?”

“Wish.
 
For Valentine.”
 
Birkita nodded at Prancer.
 
“I have a lot of toys, but I don’t have a single magic one.
 
If it really is magic, this is what it’s for.
 
Getting impossible things.
 
Don’t wish for him to come here for me.
 
Get him to come here so you know he’s ok.”

“You don’t want him here for you?”

Birkita sighed.
 
She reached up, and pulled at her hair.
 
The wig came off, showing her bald head.
 
“I don’t think there’s any hope for me, Adalia.
 
It’s been a long time coming, but I’m just tired.
 
I don’t know if I can keep it up.”

“What happened to your hair?”

“They give me drugs, to help fight the cancer.
 
It made my hair fall out.”
 
Birkita gave a sad little smile.
 
“My real hair was black.
 
Not like this wig.”

Adalia looked through the glass Birkita.
 
“I don’t think you need the hair, Scarlett.
 
I think you look pretty just as you are.”

“You think so?”

“I think so.”
 
Adalia held Prancer close to her chest.
 
I wish Valentine is ok.
 
I wish he could come here.
 
I wish he could take me away
.
 
She looked up at Birkita, the sad lonely girl on the other side of the glass.
 
And I wish he can make Scarlett better.
 
She doesn’t want me to wish for that, but I want it anyway.
 
She’s my friend.

“Are you ok?”
 
Birkita looked concerned, a small frown crossing her face.
 
“I didn’t mean to get all heavy on you.”

“I’m ok.”
 
Adalia looked around her room.
 
“What’s there to do here?”

“Not much.
 
I watch a lot of TV and surf the Internet.
 
We could watch TV together.”

“I guess.
 
What do you want to watch?”

“Whatever you like.
 
You turn on your TV, and I’ll turn on mine.
 
We’ll watch the same channel, and we can talk about what’s happening.
 
We don’t have to be in the same room.”

Adalia smiled.
 
“That’s a good idea.”
 
She clicked on the TV, and started to flick through the channels.
 
“I haven’t seen this one before.
 
It’s called Dr. Phil.”

“Ugh.”
 
Birkita shook her head.
 
“He’s not a doctor.”

“He’s not?”

“No.
 
Well, he’s got a PhD.
 
But it’s not in medicine.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Birkita laughed.
 
“It’s ok, I didn’t either at first.
 
But I have a lot of time to read in here.”

Adalia stared at the face of Phil McGraw on the TV.
 
“Doctors help people.
 
Does Dr. Phil help people?”

“Sometimes.
 
I dunno.
 
I guess.”

“That’s what I want to do when I grow up.”

“You want to be on TV?”

Adalia laughed.
 
“No!
 
I want to help people.”

Birkita looked at her for a few moments.
 
“I don’t think you need to wait until you grow up, Adalia.
 
I think you’re doing it already.
 
Ok — great.
 
Dr. Phil it is.”

They sat back on their individual beds, and talked, and laughed, and joked about the people on the Dr. Phil show.
 
Prancer sat on the bedside table next to Adalia, keeping watch.
 
Adalia really hoped Prancer could grant wishes.
 
She didn’t want her new friend to die.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

John woke with a start in the predawn light.
 
The chair he’d been sitting in had grown hard and cold overnight, it felt like the damn thing had fused to his spine.
 
He was sitting on the porch of Danny's house, and the chair was some old torture device repurposed as a rocking chair.
 
He’d hated it almost instantly, and the feeling was obviously mutual: he’d barked his shins against it twice just trying to sit down, and when he managed to seat himself it had whacked him in the back of the head as the seat leapt forward.
 
He’d have to talk to Danny about her choice in outdoor furniture when this was all over.

Sooner or later, this would all be behind them.
 
He’d be able to get whatever was going on with Val straightened out, convince those two crazies inside he was just some guy, and they could go down and share some laughs over a brew.
 
Everything was funny in hindsight.

John put his hands — carefully, or the damn thing would smack him again — on the arms of the rocking chair, and stretched forward.
 
Getting to his feet, he arched his back.
 
It popped a couple of times.
 
He turned his head around to look at the chair.
 
There were movies about possessed things, like that movie — what was it,
Child’s Play
?
 
He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a serial killer stuck inside the frame of that damn chair.
 
It wasn’t natural how sore he was.
 
He turned back around and looked out over Danny's front lawn.

That’s when he saw Val.

He was lying facedown, buck naked, covered in blood.
 
John hoped it was Val, because finding a strange naked guy on the lawn would just add too much weird to an already off-the-chain situation.
 
John was running before he realised it, grabbing Val by the shoulder and turning him over.
 
He looked a mess, some big wounds —
Christ, is that what bullet holes look like?
— in his neck and shoulders.
 

“It’s me, buddy, it’s John,”
 
he said.
 
“Let’s get you inside.
 
Wouldn’t do for either of us to be seen out here like this, what with you being naked.”
 
He tucked his arms under Val, and heaved him up.
 
“Christ, you’re heavy.
 
Come on buddy.
 
Let’s get you up.”
 
John walked, stiff-legged, back up to the house, and kicked on the front door.
 
“Hey!
 
Open the door!”

There was no response.
 
He kicked again.
 
“C’mon guys!
 
It’s Val!
 
He’s hurt!”

John heard the scrabble of the lock being drawn, and Danny yanked the door open.
 
She took one look at Val, then stepped aside.
 
“In the lounge.
 
Put him on the couch.”

“Isn’t Carlisle sleeping there?”

“She’s awake.
 
Been awake for hours.”
 
Danny shut the door behind him, then led him down the hallway to the lounge.
 
“Here.”