Story Time (4 page)

Ma laughed noisily. "Eight o'clock!" Then she lowered her voice. "You mean tonight?"

Cornelia looked down at her. "That is what I mean. Bring a checkbook or a major credit card."

"That doctor of yours, he must be a hard worker."

"We Whittakers are all hard workers. That is how we built this county. My husband is made of the same stuff."

Cornelia swiveled and pointed to a table piled high with copies of a book. "I have written this acclaimed profile of my grandfather and my father. It's titled
The Whittakers of Kings County: A Biographical History.
It is required reading at the school. You may purchase your copy now for twenty dollars." She held out her enormous hand and waited.

Ma gave Pa a meaningful look. Pa smiled nervously, reached into his wallet, and handed over a twenty-dollar bill. Cornelia in turn handed him a copy of
The Whittakers of King's County: A Biographical History.

Pa stared at the alternating purple and yellow letters of the title. He dared to ask, "Now, who were they again?"

Cornelia's jaw ground silently for several seconds. She finally explained, through clenched teeth, "They were the founding family of King's County. Your local royal family, if you will. They donated this great library to you, the common people."

George looked up at her. "I just read an Internet article about the Whittaker family."

Cornelia's smile returned. "Did you? How nice."

"It said the library wasn't really donated. It said the county got stuck with it in a bankruptcy foreclosure."

Cornelia's smile vanished. "It was wrong."

"But the Internet article—"

"The Internet is a very ›‹reliable source for anything except pornography." Cornelia looked George up and down. "You're very small, aren't you? Unhealthily so. We'll have to get you started on protein shakes right away."

Ma interjected, "Let's not forget about little Kate, ma'am. Our granddaughter is here, too. Kate Peters." Cornelia looked at Kate as Ma added, "She's a singer. A real good one."

Cornelia returned to her seat. She smiled at the girl in the white dress, and they exchanged a smug look. "Is she? Where has she sung? In New York, perhaps?"

Ma laughed. "No. In the backyard."

"Oh? Yes, of course. In the backyard." Cornelia picked up a list and checked it "Has she been accepted into Whittaker, too?"

Kate had a desperate flash of hope. She thought,
Please, please, no.

But Cornelia found her name. "Ah, I see. She lives at the same address as George Melvil."

Ma confirmed, "She sure does!"

"So that's how she got in." Cornelia looked Kate up and down. "How very fortunate for you. Like a poor ragamuffin girl in a fairy tale who has no hopes and no future, but who suddenly gets a magical opportunity." Cornelia pointed to the next child in line as she told Kate, "Do try to make the most of it."

A skinny boy walked into the lobby from the glass elevator closest to the entrance, designated Elevator #1. He was dressed in tan slacks with a blue blazer and a purple-and-yellow striped tie.

"That's the other kid on the poster," George whispered.

The boy announced, "I am ready now, Mother."

Cornelia smiled at him. Then she looked over at Kate and George and scowled. "Remember: Dr. Austin will see you two tonight at eight o'clock Now take your seats with the other new students. It's time to start."

Kate and George joined the flow of children and parents into a cordoned-off area of the lobby. Approximately one hundred children and parents, all well dressed and enthusiastic, hurried to find seats. Kate and George took two chairs up front, letting Ma, Pa, and June fend for themselves.

Cornelia stood behind the podium, and the girl and boy from the poster sat behind her. As soon as the noise subsided, Cornelia addressed the crowd. "Let me begin this meeting by saying congratulations to all of you. You have been identified as the academic elite of King's County. The crème de la crème. You must forgive my husband, Dr. Austin, for not being here to greet you personally. He is in Washington, D.C., meeting with representatives of the United States Department of Education." She paused, which compelled some members of the audience to applaud weakly.

"You may applaud if you wish. I am used to being interrupted by applause. Often. But in order to communicate more effectively, I find it useful to have a signal that indicates when applause is appropriate and when it is not. This is the signal." She turned the palm of one large hand over and flurried her fingers in a "Gimme, gimme" gesture.

Kate looked around for Ma and muttered, "I guess a flashing
APPLAUSE
sign in the library would be too undignified."

Cornelia continued. "It is my great pleasure to introduce the president of the Whittaker Magnet School student body—who also happens to be my son—Cornell Whittaker Austin. We all call him 'Whit.' Whit is, at this moment, being actively recruited by representatives of Princeton and Harvard."

Kate muttered to George, "For what? The varsity geek team?" But George would not laugh. Or smile. He stared straight ahead.

"Whit is also the leading science student in the school and the inventor of an astonishingly lethal new superweapon that would make his grandfather and great-grandfather proud. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, with no further ado, let me present my son, and Dr. Austin's son, Cornell Whittaker 'Whit' Austin!"

Cornelia gave them the applause signal.

Whit stepped up to the podium. His face showed no emotion. His eyes betrayed none of the intelligence so recently ascribed to him. He began to speak in a clipped, precise voice. "It is my duty to inform you today about the great library in which we sit and the great family that built it.

"Schoolchildren learn at an early age about the man President Ulysses'S. Grant called 'the Thomas Edison of death.' They learn how Cornell Whittaker Number One took rusting Civil War cannons, melted them down, and turned them into modern weapons of mass destruction, including the first cluster bombs and the first aerodynamic nerve-gas canisters."

Kate leaned toward George. "I wonder if that's how they ask to go to the bathroom here: 'I have to go Cornell Whittaker Number One' or 'I have to go Cornell Whittaker Number Two.'"

George ignored her. But Whit did not. He suddenly stopped, narrowed his eyes, and studied her for a long moment, making Kate fidget in her chair.

Whit then resumed. He pointed behind the audience to the entranceway. "A brief history lesson: Andrew Carnegie, the nineteenth-century robber baron, near the end of his life, decided to build a series of public libraries as monuments to himself."

Here Whit looked up, apparently reciting by heart. "When Andrew Carnegie came to King's County, waving his money around and expecting the people to grovel before him, Cornell Whittaker Number One told him that we neither wanted nor needed his money to build a library. Indeed, we would build our own library and, I quote,
We
will pay for it.' These words are now inscribed in Latin above the library entrance,
'Id pendemus.
' We will pay for it."

Whit left the podium and strolled toward the entranceway, forcing the audience members to turn with him. "My great-grandfather spent his own fortune constructing the Whittaker Library, the great building in which you now sit. He vowed that it would be twice the size of any library Carnegie had ever constructed. It would contain books on every subject known to man
except
the subject of Andrew Carnegie. Finally, it would contain a four-thousand-foot mosaic, the mosaic that you passed today on the way in here, depicting Andrew Carnegie burning in hell." Whit looked at his mother, and the audience followed his gaze. She was blinking back tears.

"My great-grandfather donated his magnificent library to King's County. The county changed the name to the King's County Library Building, but to young and old, rich and poor alike, it will always be the Whittaker Library Building."

Cornelia leaped to her feet and gave the applause signal with both hands. Whit bowed slightly, then sauntered back to his seat. He looked at Kate and cocked up one eyebrow.

Kate looked away, appalled. She whispered to George, "Can you believe this kid?"

Cornelia returned to the podium. She informed the audience, "It is genetically astounding that the same family should be blessed with both a spellbinding orator and a gifted dramatic actress. Unfortunately, you will not have the privilege of watching Heidi Whittaker Austin in one of her acclaimed Story Time performances today. But many who have seen them swear that they are as good as anything on Broadway, in New York."

George finally spoke. "Isn't that redundant?"

But Kate was no longer listening. She became aware, in her peripheral vision, of anonymous teachers scurrying around. Kate thought she glimpsed her music teacher from Lincoln among them, but she dismissed that thought as impossible.

Cornelia Whittaker-Austin finally finished speaking, gave the applause signal, and adjourned the meeting.

As soon as they got back to the house, Kate dragged George to the computer hutch and commanded, "Pull up that school district website again."

George accessed the site without difficulty and soon had an updated version of the district map. He was not at all surprised by what he saw, but Kate was shocked. The brave face she had put on at the library crumbled as she stared at the computer screen.

The Whittaker Magnet School's boundaries had changed. The octopus had grown. And their house—indeed, their entire block—had been swallowed by its longest black tentacle.

Eight hours later, at 7:45
P.M
., Kate, George, Ma, Pa, and June returned to the Whittaker Building. They again traveled in two cars. June parked in the same spot by the river. Ma and Pa, however, parked in the library driveway.

As soon as she saw the VW camper, Kate rounded on June. "Please explain to us, June, why we are walking up Mount Everest again when there are parking spaces right in front of the door?"

"I couldn't have known that, Kate. I knew we could park by the river because we did it this morning."

"Yes. Yes, so let's do it again tonight. Even though there are no cars around for blocks."

George was not listening to their squabbling. He was entranced by the building looming before him. He spoke with a touch of fear. "Check out the library now."

Kate and June looked up. As the sun set, the Whittaker Building took on a dark aspect, as if it had been carved out of one huge rock from the netherworld. June recoiled visibly and stopped walking.

George stopped with her. He whispered, "It's only a building, June. Admittedly, it's a scary one, but it's only a building."

But June would not move. George turned to Kate. "Please, Kate. We can't do this without you."

Kate, who had stopped five feet ahead of them, muttered, "There's a news flash." She walked back and told her mother, "Come on, June. Like he said, it's just a building. It's not like it's a ... Greek marketplace or anything."

George gave her a piercing look.

Kate added, "And we'll all be together, the whole time. You'll be perfectly safe in there."

June breathed deeply and began walking again.

Kate led them to the driveway, where they picked up Ma and Pa. Then she led the entire group inside, through the glass doors, past the fiery mosaic, and into the empty lobby.

They bunched into Elevator #1. Kate pressed the button for the top floor and silently read the sign, 8
TH
FLOOR—PRIVATE OFFICES
. They rode up quietly, watching through the elevator's glass walls as the floors passed. When the doors opened, the group stepped out into a wide carpeted hallway. To her right, Kate saw a bright light pouring out of a doorway and heard a high-pitched electrical sound.

Kate glanced at her family. Ma and Pa wore clueless grins. George now seemed as frightened as June. He and his big sister were clinging to each other like two-year-olds.

So Kate led the way to the open door, leaned forward, and peered inside. There, sitting on a high stool, was Dr. J. Kendall Austin. Or his head, anyway, just like in the portrait hanging in the lobby—a large head with neatly groomed gray hair and a neatly trimmed gray beard. But the rest of Dr. Austin was gone, hidden beneath a blue shower curtain that extended all the way to the floor.

Around him fluttered Cornelia Whittaker-Austin, still wearing her mink stole. She was picking away at his beard with a buzzing electric trimmer.

Kate waited a moment and then cleared her throat with a timid sound, a sound many decibels below that of the trimmer. When she got no response, she leaned farther into the room, into the man's peripheral vision, and tried to get him to notice her.

He noticed her.

Dr. Austin let out a startled shriek and snapped his head left, causing the trimmer to plow through his beard like a runaway lawn mower. Cornelia shrieked, too, and pulled madly at the electrical cord until it popped out of the wall socket.

Kate was still frozen in the doorway when the man gained control of himself enough to bark at her, "How dare you sneak in here! Who are you? What do you want?"

Kate stared, petrified, at the disembodied head above the shower curtain. Then she took two small steps forward, like Dorothy advancing toward the great and powerful Oz. She managed to say, "Eight o'clock appointment"

Dr. Austin regarded her coldly.

Cornelia, who had been brandishing the unplugged trimmer like a stun gun, now lowered it. She looked Kate up and down and demanded, "Where are the others?"

Kate turned and saw, to her dismay, that she was alone in the room. She held up one finger in a "Wait a minute" gesture, stepped back out into the hallway, and hissed, "Get in here! All of you!"

George moved cautiously into the room. Ma and Pa followed. June was too frightened to move at first, but she was also too frightened to remain outside. She finally sidled in, but just barely, and hung back by the door.

Dr. Austin made a hand gesture that created a rolling billow under the plastic curtain. "Come closer. I am, of course, Dr. Austin. I believe you have already met my wife, Mrs. Cornelia Whittaker-Austin."