Some Kind of Happiness (23 page)

She drifted into a strange museum, somewhere in the heart of the castle. In this museum people gazed at priceless artifacts kept in pillars of glass. The people wore jewels and thick white powder on their faces.

Whispers followed the queen wherever she went.

The museum people stared after her. The queen's skin crawled with fear.

“What do you suppose went wrong?” they whispered. “I thought this orphan girl was to become queen and save us.”

“I must have read the signs wrong,” came a cold voice. “For this girl is nothing like what I thought.”

The queen whirled to find the voice. The smooth white statue she had passed only moments ago turned its creaking head. Its blank white eyes turned blue and dazzling.

Despite her fear, the queen held her head high. “Who are you?”

“I am one of the ancient guardians of the Everwood.”

The queen wanted to flee, but she did not. “I am the queen of the Everwood.”

“Not anymore,” said the ancient guardian. The curve of her stone head melted into a fall of white hair that reached the ground, and in her hand she held an ancient brass key.

The queen ran until she entered a hall of mirrors, and soon she got turned around. Everywhere she looked, she saw reflections of herself—but they were all wrong.

She saw a blinking light and thought it might point the way to freedom. Turning corner after glass corner, she followed the light for hours.

When she at last stumbled into a dark room with one small window, she realized that the light was merely a flickering candle in a dim corner.

She turned to flee, but the path of mirrors had disappeared.

Instead she saw a heavy wooden door, and she heard in its lock the turn of a key.

NOW PLAYING: SUPERVISED MOVIE NIGHT!

I imagine the words flashing over the front door of Hart House in bright lights, like at an old-fashioned movie theater.

It has been twelve days since Grandpa found us with the Baileys.

(Twelve days since I saw Grandma crying while Grandpa injected her with a syringe.)

I peek out the curtains to watch my aunts' cars pull around the circular driveway.

Do they orchestrate such things, or are they so in sync that they arrive together without even trying?

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A HART

• You know instinctively when you are supposed to do something, especially when it involves other Harts.

Approximately fifteen seconds after Stick parks her car, Gretchen barrels into my room, jumps onto my bed, and yanks me into a hug.

“So. These past couple of weeks?

“Yeah?”

“They've su
cked
.”

“Agreed.”

Gretchen releases me and sits up. “So what's been going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what have you been
doing
without us around? Almost two whole weeks without the Everwood? Ugh. I miss the darn trees. And, wow, never thought I'd say
that
sentence. Anyway, I've been dying of boredom, in case you're interested. But I complained about it so much that Mom decided we needed a project, and now the kitchen is painted. So, yippee.”

I say nothing about my appointment with Dr. Bristow. “I don't know. I didn't do much, really. Helped at the clinic a couple of times. Went shopping with Grandma. Got some new dresses.”

“Uh-oh. Where are they?”

I nod at the closet. “Like, six of them.”

Gretchen takes one look at the dresses and scowls. “Barf. What are you, some chick from the fifties?”

“Grandma said I looked like her. I actually kind of like dresses, you know.”

“Yeah, but you can't wear dresses in the Everwood. She should have gotten you hiking boots. Or a safari hat!”

“I don't think we can go to the Everwood anymore.”

“Well, this whole grounded thing, blah blah blah, it's not, like,
forever
. They're just being stupid about the Baileys. But after tonight, I bet—”

“Seriously, Gretchen. They don't want us back there anymore. Grandpa told me this is for real.”

Gretchen stares at me. “Not even in the Tower?”

“Maybe. But I mean, they'll be watching us from now on. We can't go wandering off anymore.”

“They'll think we've abandoned them.”

“Who?” (I know who.)

“Frank and Joy and Cynthia? The Travers family, come on.”

I try to care about what Gretchen is saying, but I am so tired. Maybe now she and my cousins can care about the Everwood for me. They never seem to get tired like I do. “Maybe we should abandon them. We could leave them to rest in peace.”

Gretchen's face hardens. “Finley Hart, you don't mean that. We're not finished cleaning the house yet!”

The queen did not want to abandon the lonely wizard ghost and his family.

But with the Everwood so changed, with the unending howls coming at night, the queen knew that whatever came next, it could not involve her friends. They were safer without her.

She could not risk the ancient guardians' wrath.

So the queen held her head high and endured her dark prison.

“Queens,” she told herself, “are not afraid of sacrifice.”

“Finley? Hello?
Finley.
”

I jump when Gretchen flicks my knee. “Huh?”

“Space cadet. I said we can't let the Baileys clean everything on their own.”

I wonder what Jack has been doing since Grandpa yelled at him, what he has been thinking. Does he understand that none of this is our fault?

I hear movement on the stairs and jam my notebook under my pillows.

Grandma can dress me and watch my every move, but she will never get her hands on my notebook.

Dex and Ruth race into my room and start jumping up and down.

“Free Willy! Free Willy!”
they scream.

“Oh God. Have mercy, ye tyrants.” Gretchen collapses into a heap on the floor. “They've started this whole whale obsession thing. To torture me. Obviously.” She lifts her head up and growls at the twins. “What about
Peter Pan
? Or
The Great Mouse Detective
? Or, I don't know,
any other movie in the world
?”

Ruth crouches down and shouts in Gretchen's face: “WHALES.”

“Hey-ooo, kiddos!” Uncle Nelson yells up the stairs. “Rug rats! Little rascals! Snot faces!”

“Ewwwww!” Dex and Ruth squeal.

“Come on, we're starting the movie!”

“This is cruel and unusual punishment,” Gretchen complains. “I'm starting to see this movie in my
dreams
!”

“And what do you think you'd see in your dreams if
Grandpa made you clean the toilets with a toothbrush?” Uncle Nelson calls back.

“Poop dreams!” Ruth shrieks.

Dex tugs us toward the door. “Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry.”

As Gretchen stomps down the stairs, she whispers to me, “We are not finished talking about this, Finley. Meet me in the kitchen at nine thirty. Say you need a glass of water or something. We'll discuss.”

I nod. “Okay, sure.”

But I already know I will not.

At nine o'clock I claim to have a headache and am allowed to escape to my bedroom.

All the way to the stairs I can feel Gretchen watching me. She probably feels betrayed; I cannot blame her.

But she will see soon enough that it is safer for me to stay away from her, from all of them.

I am a bad influence.

I am a stubborn stain on a white rug.

Besides, I really do have a headache. I have had one all week.

(Instead of sleeping, I listen to it pound and I count the booms.)

(Tick, tick.)

(Tick, tick.)

HE QUEEN SAT, LOCKED AWAY
.

The poison inside her was spreading, and she worried it would never stop.

A crow-shaped shadow darkened her window, but when she went to look, all she could see was fog, thick and deadly like smoke.

It seeped through the walls of the Great Castle and settled in the queen's blood. It sat heavily on the branches of the Everwood trees, and coated the abandoned watchtower with gray slime.

The air in the Everwood turned rancid and sour. With every breath she took, the queen's lungs burned.

Whatever wickedness lay at the heart of the Everwood, whatever had been turning the trees gray and drying out their leaves, was getting worse.

The queen peered out her window. She sifted through the fog with her fingers, as if she could push it out of the way.

“I must find the source of this cloud,” said the queen. “I can clear the Everwood. I can heal it. I can.”

But the more desperately the queen clawed through the air, the more a sharpness in her chest tugged, sending spikes of pain through her body.

She looked down, gasping, and saw thin spools of darkness seeping out of the place over her heart.

The darkness unfurled into the fog, twisting, growing.

And the imprisoned queen understood: This fog was not natural, nor was it evil magic.

It was her.

The darkness inside her had escaped. It was no longer a secret, and it would never be again.

She looked out at the dying trees and remembered the snake's words, so long ago:
The Everwood is not as strong as it once was; your darkness will bring out its own.

As the crow had warned her, she was too late.

W
HILE
G
RANDMA IS NAPPING ON
Sunday, I hear the call of Jack's mourning dove and casually make my way to the living room windows, even though my heart is now a wild drum.

Jack is across the river, mostly hidden by the trees. He waits a minute, then makes the mourning dove call again, then runs back to his house.

Avery agrees to cover for me, and while she's talking to Grandpa about her latest painting, I sneak outside to check the Post Office.

Inside, just like I hoped, I find a note from Jack:

My queen—

Don't worry. I was careful by the Post Office. No one saw me.

How are you? Not to be weird, but I've been watching your house from over here. Seems like no one's coming over as much as they did before.

Cole and Bennett and me, we've been working on the Bone House when we can, but it's not the same without y'all. We used to go over there by ourselves all the time, but everything's different now.

Meet me at the Bridge tonight. Midnight. You need to get out of the house.

Don't be scared. But I know you won't be.