The Unseen (5 page)

Gussie tried for the cutesy dimpling smile that got her out of trouble with most people. But it wasn't going to work with Xandra. Particularly not this time, when she'd been up to something she'd done before and had promised she was going to stop doing.

“I didn't hide,” she whimpered. “I didn't hide until you were coming and I was scared. And I didn't hide the alligator. It hid under my robe 'cause it was scared too.”

Before she could go on, Xandra had her by the shoulders and was shaking her so hard that her curly hair flipped and flopped like a shaken dust mop.

“I've told you and told you to stay out of my things, Gussie Hobson,” Xandra said through clenched teeth. “Do you hear me, you little brat?”

“Okay. Okay. Don't hurt me.” Gussie looked terrified. “Here, take it back. Take back your old alligator.” Pulling away from Xandra's grasp, Gussie almost, but not quite, ducked the slap Xandra aimed at her as she threw the alligator on the floor and ran from the room.

As Xandra watched her go, she knew she was in trouble. The little creep would tell on her for sure and probably lie about it too. She'd probably say that Xandra hit her, which wasn't true—at least not exactly. Maybe she had more or less tried to hit the little troublemaker, but she was pretty sure she had mostly missed. But if Gussie said she'd been hit, there was going to be trouble. People tended to believe the worst about Xandra, and the best about their Darling Little Gussie. Even their mother, who, as a lawyer, wasn't supposed to make up her mind about who was guilty without hearing all the evidence. The chances were Xandra would be grounded, which meant Clara would pick her up after school and she'd have to go straight to her room and stay there all evening. So there would be no way she could smuggle Belinda into the basement.

She went back to the window seat and threw herself onto it, thinking about how unfair it was going to be. Gussie would tell her side of the story, and the whole family, all the siblings as well as the parents, would be mad at Xandra and she'd probably get some horrible punishment, like having her allowance cut in half, besides being grounded for a whole week.

X
ANDRA WENT DOWNSTAIRS
the next morning expecting the worst, but to her surprise nothing was said about what she'd done, or hadn't done, to Gussie. Nothing at all. Of course they were all in their usual rush to get to work and to school, but that didn't really explain it. The only explanation, Xandra decided, was that Gussie just hadn't gotten around to telling yet. Of course, that didn't mean she wouldn't as soon as she had a good chance. But then again, maybe nothing more would be said about it. Xandra didn't mention the Gussie problem the next morning when Belinda whispered that, yes, she could go home with Xandra after school.

That afternoon the bus ride was strangely quiet. Two bus rides, actually—downtown as usual and then the transfer. “No. I can't,” Xandra had said when Belinda had
asked if they would be taking the 3:15 bus that went directly to Heritage Avenue. “I have a bunch of stuff to do after class, so I'll probably be too late. Let's take the downtown bus, like always. Okay?”

Belinda said okay, and later on the bus she didn't ask any questions about the time-consuming things Xandra had supposedly been doing. She didn't, in fact, say much of anything and neither did Xandra. Xandra was busy thinking about things she didn't feel like mentioning, like for instance the real reason she hadn't wanted to take the Heritage Avenue bus, where she would probably have seen other kids she knew. The time passed slowly until the second bus came to a stop and there they were, standing on the Heritage Avenue sidewalk only about three short blocks from the Hobsons' house.

Glancing around quickly to see if anyone was watching, and then feeling embarrassed about doing it, Xandra said, “So, what you want to see is just the place where I found the feather? Right?”

“Oh yes.” Belinda's eyes widened. “Can we go there right now? Right away?”

Xandra nodded. “Sure we can.” She paused, looking around as if trying to make up her mind. “Well, there are a couple of ways to get there from here. We could go right on up Heritage Avenue, or we could take this shortcut. Well, actually it's more of a long-cut, but it's a lot more interesting. It goes down Wildwood for a block or two and then through the edge of the forest. Which way would you like to go?”

What she didn't mention was that the first way would lead past the homes of several people she knew, and then
right down the Hobsons' driveway, where, at this time of day, someone would be sure to see them. She didn't mention it, but she somehow had an uncomfortable feeling that she might as well have. Belinda's level gaze lasted a moment too long before she said, “You choose. You must know the best way to get there.”

So that was why they started off down Wildwood, where, after the first house or two, there were mostly vacant lots before the road ended in a graveled path that led into the forest. Into an acre or two of young second-growth trees, where the road dwindled away just before it reached the edge of the deep forest.

They didn't talk much at first; in fact Belinda tended to hang back, walking a few steps behind Xandra, but as they reached the trees, she caught up and said, “I thought you said the reason you couldn't take me to where you found the bird was because you weren't supposed to go into the forest.”

Xandra nodded. “That's what I said, but I meant I wasn't supposed to go very far into it, and this way we don't have to. We're just going to go up here along the edge of the trees and then we'll cut back toward the houses. We're almost there now.” And then to change the subject she stopped to point out a dangerous hornets' nest, and a little farther along, the remains of a mockingbird's nest. And that led to telling about the baby mockingbird.

When she told about rescuing and raising a baby mockingbird that had fallen out of the nest, Belinda's cool disinterest faded away. “We do that sometimes,” she said eagerly. “We rescue baby birds.”

“We?” Xandra asked. “You and your grandfather?”

Belinda nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Me and my grandfather. He's very good at finding baby birds and raising them.”

Xandra waited, hoping to hear more about what the grandfather was good at, but Belinda only turned away and went on walking. They were almost through the grove of small trees when Belinda asked, “Do any of your brothers and sisters”—she paused long enough to let her smile say she remembered what Xandra called them—“I mean your siblings, like the forest? I mean, do they go there with you?”

“No,” Xandra said quickly and firmly. “Not with
me
anyway. Two of them, the two that are twins, go exploring in the forest sometimes, just because they aren't supposed to. And just so they can try to scare me by pretending to be experts about all sorts of dangerous things that might live there. Things like snakes and mountain lions.”

Belinda nodded. “Oh yes,” she said. “I think I heard about your twin brothers. I heard some girls talking about them in the cafeteria.”

Xandra wasn't surprised. She was used to hearing girls rave about what great jocks and how cute her twin brothers were. She shrugged and sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “All the girls are crazy about them, but all I can say is, they can have them.”

She might have had more sarcastic things to say about her “gorgeous” twin brothers, but just about then they reached the place where the path led out of the forest and right up to the Hobsons' back gate. Up to the gate, then, after a careful check to be sure no one was in the yard—no Hobson siblings and not even Otto, the gardener—Xandra quickly led the way across the lawn, around flower and herb beds, and then they were there. Right there in the
basement, where the white bird had disappeared, leaving behind the enchanted feather.

Nothing had changed since the miraculous disappearance of the bird. Once inside the door, they had to make their way through the huge storage room among the boxes and trunks and all kinds of sports and household equipment, including every kind of vacuum cleaner that had ever been invented. As Xandra led the way through the piles of junk, Belinda hung back, looking from side to side. She seemed interested in all of it, particularly the vacuum cleaners. “Broken?” she asked. “Are they
all
broken?”

“Some of them might be.” Xandra shrugged. “My mother kept getting different kinds, hoping somebody in the family would get interested in using them. But finally she just gave up and hired a cleaning service.” She shrugged again. “Come on. What we came to see is back here.”

It was then, while Belinda was hanging back to inspect the vacuum cleaners, that Xandra began to have some serious second thoughts. Here she was letting an almost perfect stranger in on one of the most important secrets of her whole life. A stranger who at the moment seemed more interested in boring housecleaning stuff than in secret hideouts and enchanted creatures.

“Why?” Xandra asked herself. “Why should I let her in on my secrets?” But right then, while she was still whispering the question, she knew the answer. Or perhaps felt it more than knew it. Felt the answer as a feathery warmth against the skin of her chest. Putting her hand over the spot where, beneath her blouse, the feather hung on its string, she nodded. Belinda was there because of what she
had said and done when she saw the feather. How she had known immediately how important it was, and how, before Xandra had told her anything, she had begun to talk about Keys and who got them and what they could do.

So instead of trying to get rid of Belinda, Xandra pulled firmly on the back of her ratty old jacket. “Come on,” she said. “We're not there yet. You have to duck under those heat vents first and then go on around behind the furnace.”

At last Belinda tore herself away from the vacuum cleaners and followed Xandra back into the dimly lit area where in cages of different shapes and sizes all Xandra's orphaned and wounded creatures had lived. And where now, as always, she immediately began to feel better, calmer and less impatient.

“Well, here we are,” she started to say when she noticed that Belinda was staring, looking from side to side in a strange, intense way. In the dim light her wide-set eyes glowed with excitement, or fear, or maybe some of each.

“You kept all your animals here?” she asked. “Without anybody knowing?”

Xandra shrugged. “Well, mostly they didn't know. Or didn't care—at least not as long as they didn't have to do anything about it.”

“And where are they now, the animals?” Belinda whispered.

“Some of them, like the kittens, I found homes for. Like I told you, some of my family are allergic, so I couldn't have them in the house. But most of the rest of them just grew up or got well and flew away or ran away into the forest. And I let the wild ones go on purpose, at least more or less.
I don't think wild things ought to be penned up. Anyway, what you came to see, the place where I found the feather, is right over there. In that box.”

Xandra approached the empty carton slowly and solemnly. “Here it is,” she told Belinda. “See, the bowls are still there. This one was for water, and this one had brine shrimp in it. I haven't moved anything since …” She paused and then went on dramatically. “Since the white bird disappeared into thin air.”

Belinda reached out slowly and carefully to touch the bowls, one after the other. Then she put her hand, palm down, on the straw at the center of the box. “Is this where it sat? Where it left the feather?”

Xandra nodded.

Belinda raised her hand, studied the spot where it had been, and then looked around the basement. “And the door was still closed the next morning when the bird was gone?”

Xandra nodded again.

Belinda turned in a slow circle and then came to a stop. “And the feather?” she asked. “You still have it?”

Xandra put her hand over the spot on her chest where she could feel the feather's shimmering warmth. “Of course,” she said. “It's still right here on this string.”

Belinda held out both hands and slowly and carefully Xandra pulled the string over her head and even more slowly put the feather into Belinda's hands.