Paperquake (25 page)

If she hadn't decided to go to the Chance Street shop that first day, would one of her sisters have found the letter from Hal? Or had it been meant only for her? Mr. Koch's books with Laela's diary entry and Hal's name inside were on her desk even before she'd found the first letter. Her topic—the 1906 earthquake—had already been assigned by Mr. Koch, the grandson of Laela and Hal.

Violet sighed and turned over in bed. The pieces of this mystery were as baffling as one of Jasmine's lateral thinking puzzles.

Then Violet sat up suddenly.
Maybe that is what this is!
she thought wildly. Maybe the pieces of the puzzle didn't fit together in the way she'd been trying to fit them. Maybe the meaning of all that had been happening would become clear if she could shift the pieces into a different perspective.

The story of Hal and Verity and Laela had shown her how the past had parallels in the present. Not just parallels between Violet's own life and Verity's, but other parallels, too. The letters from Hal and the diary entries had taught Violet to believe in parallels and to see past her own situation to
other
parallel situations. Like the earthquakes that happened then and now. Like the dreams of bridges.

Violet pushed back her quilt and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Beth!"

There was no answer. Violet peered into the darkness. She saw the peak of Beth's witch's hat on the floor. She heard Beth's deep, even breathing. Beth was fast asleep.

Cautiously Violet edged out of bed, stepping around her sleeping friend. She went to her desk and opened the drawer, withdrew the packet of letters and diary entries, then switched on her desk lamp. She read them through, trying hard to forget all the previous connections she'd made.

A man lies dead in a cabin on the side of a mountain,
she thought. But the man wasn't the sort of stalwart backpacker you imagined, and the cabin wasn't a house. Nothing was what it seemed to be. You had to let your preconceptions drop away; you had to look at the facts in a new light before the puzzle pieces dropped into place.

She read Laela's description of her dream about the golden bridge. She reread it. She read the date:
November 1, 1906.

She glanced up at her own calendar hanging from a nail above her desk.

The light shifted. A puzzle piece dropped into place.

Violet climbed back into bed and pulled the quilt up to her chin. She was trembling with excitement and apprehension.

Laela's dream entry was dated November 1. Violet's calendar showed that the next day's date was November 1. In Laela's dream the golden bridge had begun to sway and fall when the sun was directly overhead at high noon. In Violet's dream she had also known it was exactly noon.

Was something going to happen at noon the next day on the Golden Gate Bridge?

Maybe the parallels meant nothing. Maybe she was misinterpreting them. But maybe she wasn't, and so much was at stake, she couldn't just ignore her fears. Something had to be done. Worse than that—
she
was the one who had to do something.

Violet lay in bed trying to think what to do. No one could stop an earthquake from coming. She couldn't just tell her parents and hope they would take over and fix things. She could hardly ride through the entire Bay Area on her bike, a modern-day Paul Revere, warning people to evacuate their homes.

What
could
she do? How could she make sure that no one was on the Golden Gate Bridge at noon the next day?

She stared up at the ceiling for a long, long time. Finally, just as sleep overtook her, she hit upon a plan. It was daring, it was outrageous; it was also illegal. And yet, she told herself, she'd already embarked on a life of crime, hadn't she? Was this plan really so much worse than stealing a letter from a museum exhibit?

Yes,
whispered her conscience, but she quieted it by falling asleep. And in the morning when she awoke, she knew there was no time to lose.

 

At breakfast Greg and Lily were making plans for the day. "It's such a lovely autumn day," said Lily, "I thought we could pack a picnic and drive over the Golden Gate Bridge to the scenic overlook before we take Sam home. It's a touristy thing to do, but fun, and on such a clear day we'll be able to see for miles. How does that sound, kids?"

Violet, entering the kitchen with Beth right behind her, stopped in the doorway and stared at her mother in horror.

Sam grinned. "Sounds cool to me."

"Remember, Mom, Rosy and I have to be at school from nine till ten to clean up the gym," Jasmine said. "But we can go after that."

"And, Beth, of course you are welcome to come with us," Lily said with a smile. "That is, if you won't mind helping out again at the shop. The new sign is being hung outside today, and I want to make sure it's done right. 'Jackstone Florists.' It should look great."

"There's also more cleaning to do before the new refrigerators and display cases are delivered on Monday," Greg added.

"I'd love to help," said Beth. "Let me just call my mom and see if it's okay with her."

Violet felt as if her tongue were stuck to the roof of her mouth. "N-no!" she burst, out. "We have to stay home today."

"Are you sick, Baby?" asked Greg. "Or just tired? Come let me feel your forehead. I hope you kids didn't stay up all night partying."

"Oh, dear," said Lily worriedly. "Maybe it's not such a good idea, Greg, her sleeping up in the attic like this. I'm sure it's colder up there than in the alcove. She's already caught a chill."

"No, I haven't," said Violet desperately. "It's just that-well, listen, everybody. I think there's going to be a big earthquake today. I
know
there's going to be! We have to stay home."

"Vi!" shrieked Rose. "You can't know that!"

"Yes, I can. I do know it. You'd know it, too, if you'd just—"

She broke off as her father cleared his throat. "Now, Baby," Greg said reprovingly. "Do you really want us to cancel our plans just because you're afraid of earthquakes?"

"Yes!" she cried. Then she pressed her lips together and looked beseechingly at her sisters and Beth and Sam.
Help me out,
she thought.
You read the letters, too.
She would have to get them alone so she could tell them how she'd figured out the date and time. Then they'd believe her. She glanced at the clock by the stove. Already 8:30. There wasn't much time left.

"It's natural to be worried about earthquakes," Lily was saying soothingly as she brought a basket of bagels to the table. "With all the little ones we've had lately and all the talk about them, it's no wonder you're frightened, honey." She brought a plate of lox and a tub of cream cheese to the table and sat down. "Help yourselves everybody."

"Even Vi's science project is about earthquakes," Jasmine added.

"Just remember—little quakes let off steam," Sam offered, spearing a piece of lox with his fork. "We don't have to worry about big quakes as long as we have little ones. That's what my dad says, anyway."

"Sounds like a good theory to me," Greg said.

"Me, too," said Rose.

"
Please
let's stay home," begged Violet.

"No, dear." Lily shook her head. "But how about this? If you're really worried, you may stay home by yourself. You can work on your paper for school. In fact, maybe you should. Have you finished it yet?"

"Nearly." Violet spread cream cheese on half a bagel and bit into it. It was no use trying to convince her parents. But after breakfast she would tell the others.
They
would believe her.

But they didn't. Up in Jasmine and Rose's bedroom while the two girls hurriedly braided each other's hair, Violet showed the others Laela's diary entry and told them about her realizations of the night before. "The date is the same," she finished. "I think it's a sign."

Jasmine shook her head. "I think you're taking things too far."

Rose sighed."
Really,
Baby. Get a grip." She fastened an elastic band around Jasmine's thick braid with an audible snap.

Even Sam just sat looking faintly embarrassed, as if he thought Violet were making a fool of herself. And maybe she was. Only Beth looked worried.

Violet appealed to her friend.

"Look at the date on this entry, Beth!" she insisted. "It's November first, same as today. And the time—with the sun directly overhead, that would be noon! You know how at first I thought all the parallels between Verity's time and mine were there to warn me about murderers or heart failure, but—"

"You've got a huge ego, Baby," reproved Rose. "Always thinking things are about you!"

"But that's what I'm trying to tell you," cried Violet. "It's bigger than that!" She put her hand on Beth's arm. "Don't you get it? We might be driving across that bridge at noon on our way to have a picnic, and there will be other people, too. On a beautiful day like this, loads of people will be out on the bridge. There are always kids skating or walking across, and joggers—not to mention all the cars crashing and burning and falling. Do you want people falling to their deaths? Do you want
us
to be on that bridge, too?"

"I just don't know what to think," Beth murmured.

Flames,
remembered Violet.
Children running from the ruins.
Could the wreckage be a car? Could the shadow children be not ghosts but specters of a disaster yet to come? "
Help us!
" cried the little girl. Was Violet the one who could help?

Sam cleared his throat. "Even if we do believe you, Vi," he said, "the problem of what you can do about it is the same. Like, even if you stay home today, what about all those other people? Are you going to stand at the entrance of the bridge and hold up a sign saying 'Go Back or Else!'?"

"People will think you're cracked," said Jasmine. "Come on Rose. We're already late." She and Rose left the room.

"I don't care what people think," declared Violet, and realized that in this case it was true. "Of course there's a chance I've got it all wrong. But what if I don't? I'm not willing to take that risk." There were the children to save, and all the other people. There was her own family to save—and her friends.

"Oh, Vi." Beth looked torn. "The picnic will be fun. It's so unlikely that anything will happen ... You know I want to be on your side, but—"

"I am not driving over that bridge. No way."

Violet and Beth looked at each other. Violet felt near tears. "Well, how about if we take BART?" suggested Beth. "Will you come with us then, Vi?"

"No." Violet shivered at the idea of being on the train under the bay when the quake hit.

"How about the ferry?" asked Sam. "Then if there's a quake, we'll just bob around."

"Yeah, good idea," said Beth. "Let's go ask your parents. The ferry will be more fun, anyway! I haven't been on one for years, and we can even eat our picnic while we're out on the water." She jumped up and ran down the stairs.

Violet hadn't said she would go on the ferry, but she followed her friends downstairs. When Lily agreed they would go to San Francisco by ferry as long as Violet came, too, Violet felt she had to say she would. But that still didn't help the people who would be on the Golden Gate Bridge at noon.

Beth and Sam watched morning cartoons, laughing uproariously, while they waited for Jasmine and Rose to return from cleaning up at the school. Lily and Greg drank coffee at the kitchen counter and talked about their new shop. Violet sat on the front steps, squinting up at the sun. Every minute it moved higher in the sky. At noon it would be directly over
head. What would happen then to all the people on the bridge? What would happen to the children?

Only one thing might help those people, and Violet was going to try it. But she wouldn't tell her sisters or Beth or Sam. No sense getting them in trouble if things went wrong.

She waited until her sisters returned and everyone was downstairs, almost ready to leave for Jack London Square, where they'd get the ferry across to San Francisco. She didn't want to put her plan into action too early. Then she said, "I've got to go to the bathroom. I'll be down in a minute."

Jasmine and Rose looked exasperated. "We'll wait in the van," said Greg. Beth hesitated at the foot of the stairs, almost as if she sensed that Violet was not going to the bathroom at all. Violet longed to have Beth at her side now, as they had been together in so many games before.

But this was not a game. And Violet knew she must act alone.

She gave Beth a little smile. "I'll be right back," she said, and ran upstairs to her parents' bedroom. She sat on the bed. She reached for the telephone, then drew back. What if her call could be traced to this phone? She didn't dare—her parents would be in terrible trouble.

It was already 10:25 now. There was very little time. She sidled down the stairs, pressing against the wall. Her sisters and Beth and Sam were laughing as they followed Lily and Greg out of the house. Violet edged down the hallway, raced through the dining room to the kitchen, opened the back door, and slipped out. Then, bending nearly double to avoid being seen, she skittered past the bushes and around the next-door neighbors' house. Breaking into a run, she tore through several backyards to the next corner, where there was a pay phone outside a little Chinese grocery.

Did she have enough money? She felt in her pockets and came up with only a dime. But wait—you didn't need money to call 911.

She pressed the buttons, holding her breath.

The dispatcher answered immediately. "Hello, what is your emergency?"

For a second Violet couldn't speak. She felt as if her voice were frozen in her throat. "Hello?" repeated the voice urgently. "What is your emergency? Can you hear me?"

"There's a bomb," Violet whispered into the receiver.

"Excuse me? Can you speak louder?"

"A bomb! On the Golden Gate Bridge." There. She'd done it.

"May I have your name, please?" the dispatcher asked quickly.

"You don't need my name. But it's true, I know it! There's a bomb set to go off on the Golden Gate Bridge—at noon. At noon today! You need to close the bridge, get everyone off!"