The Magic Half (11 page)

Why? What was the point?

She had Molly and magic. She didn’t need to have the treasure, too. Finding it was the good part anyway. She had the special—her brothers could have the extra.

Robbie made a farting noise. “What are you— catatonic? Wake up!”

“It’s the stolen stuff,” she said quietly. “I found it.”

Ray sat up like he’d been jerked on a string. “What?”

The boys scrambled across the lawn, bumping into each other as they knelt beside her. “Where?”

“Here. It was under this board.” Miri pointed to the rotting plank.

Together, her brothers’ wide eyes moved from the battered metal box to the weed-choked hole. Ray whistled softly. “Wow.”

“Mir,” said Robbie, “How’d you know—?”

“It was here?” Ray looked at her with awe.

Miri couldn’t resist torturing them. “I just had a feeling,” she said mysteriously. “I was sitting in the car this afternoon, and all of a sudden, I had a vision of where it was.”

“Aw, come on, don’t give us that,” began Ray, but Robbie hit him on the arm.

“Shut up. Don’t argue with her.” He turned to his sister respectfully. “Can we open it? Huh?”

“Sure,” said Miri, enjoying her power. She didn’t tell them she had already opened it.

Robbie reached out, but Ray was quicker. He yanked the lid off unceremoniously. The familiar rotting smell wafted up as they stared into the mess of brown lumps. “What’s this? Looks like dog turds,” he said, poking them with his finger. “But hey— check it out—jewelry!” Ray pulled out the watch and then the other pieces, and laid them reverently on the grass.

“Whoa,” Robbie said quietly. For a long moment, the two boys stared in silence.

Then Ray said, “How much you think we can get for them?”

“They’re antiques,” said Robbie. “People pay a lot for antiques.”

“Thousands?”

“Maybe,” said Robbie. “Hey look, a ring!” He picked up the ring. “It’s gold.”

“Got to be worth something.” Ray sounded like he had a college degree in jewelry.

Miri watched as Robbie inspected one of the wads of brown paper. “Ray,” he said, slowly peeling the mess apart. “Dude.”

“Huh?” Ray was prying open one of the lockets. “It isn’t dog turds.

It’s money!”

Miri leaned over. In the middle of the wad, you could see that the paper had markings on it. It did look like dollar bills. And it made sense that Horst would keep money in his secret hiding place.

Ray dropped the locket and picked up a brown lump. “Money,” he said softly. “Think we can spend it?”

Robbie fingered the lump. “Maybe. Maybe if we dry it out. Or maybe we can sell it to people who collect old money.”

Ray grinned. “Yeah! It’s probably worth even more that way! We can get an iPod!”

“Or an Xbox,” said Robbie dreamily. “Or both.”

“Sure. We’re rich!” Ray rubbed his hands together and cackled gleefully, like a cartoon villain. “Rich, rich, rich.”

Robbie stopped. He looked at Miri, his round blue eyes thoughtful. “But it’s yours, really,” he said.

“What?” Ray stared at him in astonishment. “You’re crazy! It’s not hers!”

“She found it,” Robbie said stubbornly. “Finders keepers. That’s fair.”

Robbie always worried about fair. Miri suddenly remembered the time the police officer visiting her first-grade classroom had run out of traffic-safety coloring books right when he came to her. Robbie had been so outraged he had drawn a special traffic-safety coloring book, just for her. She still had it. She smiled at him. “I don’t really care about the stuff,” she said, thinking of the glasses tucked in her shirt. “I just wanted to find it.”

He wasn’t convinced. “Yeah, and you did. So you should at least take something. Take the pin.”

“Yeah,” agreed Ray, nodding eagerly. “The pin’s pretty.” He held it out to her. “See, it’s got a girl on it. You can have it. We’d probably have enough for the iPod without it.”

“No. I don’t want the pin,” Miri said. “But guys. Don’t you think you should find out who it belonged to? Maybe they’re still alive.”

They looked at her resentfully. “No way,” said Ray, after a moment. “This stuff has been here for almost a hundred years. Whoever it belonged to is dead for sure.”

Robbie nodded. “Got to be.” But he didn’t sound quite so certain.

“What if it’s only been, like, seventy years,” Miri argued. “The owners might still be alive.”

“Nah, it takes at least a hundred years for metal to rust out like that. We did oxidation in science last year,” said Ray. Now he sounded like he had a college degree in rust.

Miri puffed her cheeks full of air and let it out slowly. There was nothing she could say, nothing that would not reveal her secret journey to Molly’s world. “Well,” she said finally, “I found it, so I have some say in what happens to it. And I say you should ask Mr. Guest.”

“Huh? Mr. Guest? That old guy? Why?” said Robbie.

“ ’Cause he might know who the stuff belongs to,” said Miri.

They stared at her, obviously wondering why she cared more about strangers than about them getting rich. Robbie’s eyes narrowed. “Mir,” he began, “really. How did you figure out where it was?”

Uh-oh. Time to go. “I’m a witch,” said Miri. She rolled her eyes around.

“You’re a loon,” said Ray. He turned to his brother. “Do you think Mom would really let us get an Xbox?”

Miri stood up, and the glasses rattled down to the waistband of her shorts. Her hand in her pocket touched the thin strands of the pink gold bracelet. She had what she needed. It wasn’t going to be long now.

Hope it’s not too late,
said her brain.
Shut up
, she said again, walking across the lawn.

CHAPTER
12

H
ORST BROUGHT HIS FACE
close to hers. Thin streams of sweat leaked down from his oiled hair, and his flabby cheeks were grayish pink. Miri took a step back. She didn’t want his sweat to get on her glasses and wreck them. But he caught her T-shirt up in his fist and pulled her toward him. His slablips opened and he growled, “Who said you could take my stuff? Who?”

Miri woke with a jump. Horrible! Her heart was thumping, and she peered anxiously into her dark room. Was he hiding in the shadows? Slowly, her mind limped back to the real world: it was just a dream. Horst had been dead for years. She hoped.

She shivered and turned on the lamp next to her bed. What time was it? She couldn’t see across the room to her clock, so she padded to her desk. 4:45. The sun would rise soon. What a relief. She had been waking up all night long, chased by Horst from one dream to another. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the memory. Horst was worse than any nightmare monster in the world. Well, almost. Two Halloweens ago, Ray had a zombie mask that had completely freaked her out. She dreamed about that thing every night for a month. Okay—Horst was a close second then, with his streams of sweat and grayish skin.

Climbing back into bed, Miri gave up on sleep. She propped herself up on her pillows and looked at the corner of the room where she had found the glass lens. What if I hadn’t found it? she wondered. Or was it my destiny—I
had
to find it on that particular day? Miri, girl of destiny. Yeah, right. How could it be my destiny? I only saw the glass when I was sent to my room. And I was only sent to my room because I hit Ray. And I only hit Ray because he tripped me. What if none of those things had happened?

She wedged the pillows under her head and thought. Maybe there isn’t one thing that
has
to happen. Maybe there are a bunch of different possibilities for every minute. Miri closed her eyes and tried to picture it. Maybe time is like being in a hallway with four doors; if you open the one on the right, you’ll end up in another hall with four more doors. But if you chose the door on the left, you’d end up somewhere else entirely. So what happens changes all the time, depending on what people choose. Miri pulled her sheets up to her neck as a breeze curled through the little room.

But all the 1935 stuff has already happened, so I can’t change it, because it’s in the past.

But maybe the past can change, too,
the voice in her brain countered.
Think of the frying pan chipping the
floor. It became the past.

But if the past changes, wouldn’t that make everything different in the present? Miri wondered.

Maybe it is different, and we don’t even know it.

Her eyes clicked open. That was a weird idea. That would mean that the past didn’t have to turn out the way she thought it did.

It could turn out better.

Or worse.

Okay, so what happened in the past changes because I went there, like when I dropped the frying pan. But what if it changes so that Molly’s lens isn’t in my room two days ago? What then?

Then it will be erased. From inside me, too. I won’t know anything about Molly because it will not have happened.

Not knowing about Molly? That would be the worst of all.

It’s
got
to happen.

Everything’s got to turn out just the way it has. Unless Horst has—

Grimly, Miri began to chew on her knuckle. She didn’t want to think it. But she had to. I can’t change it if he’s already killed her, she thought. But let’s say—let’s say he hasn’t done anything—yet. Then I can change history. I’ll change it by bringing Molly home.

Her knuckle hurt from all the chewing it had had lately. Miri took an experimental bite of her thumbnail. Not so good, but better than nothing.

Okay. But what about Horst? If he ran away because he—Miri took a breath—did something bad to Molly, then he wouldn’t run away if she kept him from doing it. And if he didn’t run away, he might just take the glasses out of his buried box some time between 1935 and now. And then it wouldn’t be there for her to find yesterday. And then she wouldn’t be able to go get Molly. She couldn’t allow that. No matter what, she had to have the lens so she could go back to get Molly. And what about the lens that was on her wall in the first place? She had to make sure that one was put up, too. Right now, it was somewhere in Molly’s room. She hoped.

Okay. Fine. When she went back to 1935 to get Molly, she’d put one lens up on the wall, put the other one back under the barn floor, and then she’d make Horst run away.

How the heck was she going to do all that?

Getting the lenses in the right places—that didn’t seem too hard. But getting rid of Horst? Impossible.

The first businesslike call of a bird sounded outside. It was nearly day. She was glad to leave night and dreams behind. She hoped Horst wouldn’t hang around in her dreams for weeks the way the zombie had.

Hey. Wait.

In Miri’s mind, a tiny idea began to flicker to life. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, Mr. Guest had said. Sweating like a pig. Scared half to death.

Miri sat up straight. It wouldn’t be a ghost that scared him, because she was going to make sure that Molly didn’t become a ghost. But maybe she could make Horst scared enough to run away anyway.

The idea grew bigger, and Miri smiled. It could even be fun.

• • •

“What time is it?”

“It’s ten minutes after the last time you asked me,” her mother replied. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I want my glasses.”

“They’re not ready yet.”

• • •

“Mom, when are we going to
go
?”

“Stop pestering me. We’ll go soon.”

“How soon is soon?”

“An hour. Stop pestering me.”

“An
hour
? Please, can we go before that? I’ll wash the dishes for a week.”

“Why are you so crazy to get your glasses?”

“Because I am. Please, Mom. Please, please, please.”

• • •

“How many more miles?”

“Not another word, Miri.”

“I thought we had to be nice to Miri, Mama,” piped up Nell.

“I
am
being nice. I’m taking her into town even though it’s not convenient for me to go right now. That’s nice.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“Right. Butter me up.”

• • •

“That’ll be $114.62, Mrs. Gill.”

“Lord. Miri, you may not break these.”

Miri nodded. Sure, Mom.

“Thank you kindly, Mrs. Gill. You all have a nice day.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s go home.”

“Miri! Can you say thank you to Mr. Deetz?”

“Thanks, Mr. Deetz. The glasses are very nice. Let’s go home.”

• • •

“Okay. First thing is lunch. Miri, will you make a couple of PB and Js for the girls? I’ll make quesadillas for you and the guys.”

“Mom, I really have to do something right now. I don’t need any lunch—”

“Not so fast, sister. I drove you into town because you
had
to get your glasses. Seems only fair that you help me with lunch. This house is not a restaurant, you know, and I am not—”

“Okay, okay, okay. Jeez . . .”

“Stop sighing.”

• • •

Miri tossed the last cup into the dishwasher. She wished she hadn’t said that bit about washing the dishes for a week. At least it was over now. She ignored the crumbs and spilled milk on the counter and ran up the stairs to her brothers’ room.

Robbie and Ray were conveniently outside, excavating the barn in search of further loot. The wads of rotting money had been set out carefully to dry on the top of Robbie’s dresser, but Miri didn’t stop to inspect. She had to hurry. Every moment could be the one she was dreading, the one she had to stop from happening. Quickly, she made her way to the closet. She had to dig through layers of magazines, computer paper, folders, shoes, socks, ripped T-shirts, and skateboards before she finally found the lopsided canvas sack that contained old Halloween costumes. She yanked out a Darth Whatever mask and a big pink bag from the year Robbie had been an eraser and threw them on the floor. Where was the stupid thing? This was taking too long. She turned the bag upside down and shook it until costumes rained down—and then she jumped, because there it was, grinning up at her. Ray’s zombie mask. It still gave her the creeps. Miri forced herself to reach out and pick it up. Yuck. She tucked it into her shirt, shivering as it touched her skin, and was just turning to go when she stopped. The CD player. She opened the top and saw that the Deathbag CD was still in the machine. Sound effects. She picked up the player and ran out of the room.