Timescape (8 page)

“What if she
was
there,” David said. “And she
didn't
get off ?”

Dad didn't say anything, and his silence was awful. Finally, he said, “You know, guys, we saw him, Bob. We could just as easily not have seen him. It was a fluke that we did. We were helpless to do anything.”

“Don't you want to
know
?” David said. “Don't you
have to
?”

“Of course I want to. As much as you do. But it'd drive us crazy thinking about it, wishing for things that can never be.” He looked from David to Xander.

“Like Grandpa,” Xander said.

After Dad's mother had been kidnapped into the worlds, his father had spent a couple of months going in and out of the portals looking for her. Eventually, he'd taken the family away, fearing for their safety and his own sanity.

Dad nodded. “I don't know the whole story. Maybe he saw things like that and it got to him. Let's agree that's not going to happen to us, okay?”

Xander turned his gaze back to the portal door. His lips were tight, not liking any of it. Then he said, “Okay.”

Dad gave David a sad half smile. “Are you all right? Not going to cry?”

“Give me a minute.”

“We need to get you thawed out,” Dad said playfully.

David could tell he was making an effort to change the subject, lighten the mood.

“Want a bath?”

“Steaming hot,” David said, going along with him. “For three days.”

“You'd turn into a raisin,” Xander said.

“Better than the Popsicle I feel like now. Toria's okay?”

Xander frowned. “
She
is, yeah.”

“What do you mean,
she
is? Xander?”

“Jesse got hurt.”

“What?” David said. “How? Is he all right?” His voice was high, and broke on the last word.

“It was bad,” Xander said. He brought his heels down from the bench, rose, and sat where his feet had been. “There was lots of blood. Keal took him to the hospital.”

“The hospital?” David said. He slid himself out from Xander's head, which clunked down on the floor.

“Hey,” Xander said, rubbing the back of his skull.

David got to his feet. “Dad, we have to go.”

“I don't think . . .” Dad studied Xander's face. “I don't think there's anything we can do, Dae.”

“Dad!”

“Let's at least wait until we hear from Keal,” Dad said. “See what's up.”

David dropped down onto the bench. He covered his face with his hands. What finding himself alone on the deck of the
Titanic
couldn't do, what the icy waters of the black Atlantic couldn't do, what being dunked over and over with barely a breath couldn't do . . . Jesse's injuries did: David began to cry.

CHAPTER
sixteen

WEDNESDAY, 7:39 P.M.

Jesse.

David pictured the old man's face. Skin like a favorite pair of jeans, all wrinkly and worn. Eyes like a gypsy's crystal ball: they saw more than your physical appearance; they seemed to see inside, to your heart. And he had a way of making you feel he liked what he saw. He always said just the right thing to make you feel better. He had offered them hope when they needed it. He was an ally—a friend who truly understood the house and what they were going through. Around Jesse, David felt less lonely, less alone in this mess. Jesse had come to help them . . . and now look.

Dad whispered, obviously to Xander, “Was it Taksidian?”

“Toria thinks so,” Xander said. “They saw someone standing in the shadows over Jesse. Then Taksidian went after Nana.”

No one spoke. David wept.

After a minute Dad said, “Is that why you came over, after I told you not to?”

“I wanted to help David,” his brother answered. His sneakered toe tapped David's hip. “I got to thinking . . . he's been through so much, I couldn't stand
not
helping.”

There was silence, and without looking, David knew his dad and his brother were staring at each other.

“Dad,” Xander continued, “I'm ready to fall over, and Dae's been through more than I have. I just—”

“Okay, okay,” Dad said. “I get it . . . but it almost turned out pretty awful.”

Softly, Xander said, “Sorry.”

David sniffed. He squeezed his eyes tight, letting the last of his tears roll down his cheeks and pool against the fleshy part of his palms. He said, “Don't you even care about Jesse?”

Dad's fingers clamped over his knee. “Of course we do, Dae. There's just nothing we can do for him right now.”

That got David crying again.
Nothing we can do
: that seemed to be the King family slogan these days. Was everything they'd done to make things better—creating the MCC to log and plan their missions; going over time and again searching for Mom; fighting off the cops, Taksidian, Phemus—was everything pointless, like running in place as fast you could? Or did they have to work that hard just to keep from losing ground—without those efforts, would they be way worse off by now? It was a depressing thought. If just surviving took everything they had, drained them like cheap batteries, what would they have to do to actually accomplish anything? How much effort would it take to find Mom? And did they have it to give?

Dad whispered, “Xander, go run David's bath, please.”

Xander nudged David with his feet as he pulled them off the bench. Then he squeezed David's shoulder. “It'll be all right, Dae.”

The door opened and closed.

Dad let him cry. David knew what he was thinking: that he was overtired, overwhelmed, and overreacting. So he was surprised when Dad sat beside him, put his arm around him, and said, “I like him too, David. I hardly know the old guy, but he feels like he belongs, doesn't he?”

David wiped tears and snot off his face. He rubbed his sloppy hands over his jeans. “He's family.”

Dad frowned and nodded. “He's blood. And he's the only other person in the world who understands what's happening here.”

David smiled thinly. “He doesn't think we're crazy.”

Dad ran his fingers through David's hair. “We're not crazy . . . this house is.”

Footsteps pounded in the hallway. The door flew open, and David almost cried out. Toria leaned in.

“What now?” David said. He was teetering on the edge of tears again. He felt worn and thin, like a bicycle tire ready to burst.

Please, Lord, nothing else right now. I need a break.

He realized Toria bore a broad smile, which fell away when her eyes found his face.

“What's the matter, Dae?” She leaned over his knees to hug him.

“
Everything
, Tor.” Once it was out, he recognized the truth of it. There were so many big things pressing down on them he didn't even want to list them. It was, as he'd said,
everything
.

“Nana's sleeping,” Toria said. “She was just going to ‘catch her breath' is what she said, but she's out cold.” Toria leaned close to David and whispered, “She snores.”

David couldn't help a little smile.

Toria's eyes flashed wide. “Xander said you were on the
Titanic
! Is that true?”

“Yeah, but we didn't see Leonardo DiCaprio.”

She punched his shoulder. “I know the difference between a movie and real life.”

David rubbed the spot she'd hit. Those hard little fists hurt. “I'm glad
you
do,” he said, “because I don't think I do anymore.”

Dad leaned into him. “How about that bath? You'll feel better when you're warm, clean, and rested.”

All of that sounded like heaven, but David said, “I doubt it.”

“Maybe get some food in you. When was the last time you ate?”

David shook his head. “I can't eat.”

Dad stood and guided Toria out the door. “Go see if there's anything in the kitchen. I'll be there in a few minutes. I'll bet we can come up with something David will eat, huh?”

“Oh yeah, I'll bet,” she said running off.

“How can she be like that?” David said. “Like everything's okay?”

“Nana's sleeping on her bed,” Dad said. “Instead of getting sucked away.”

“To the
Titanic
,” David said. “That's where she would have gone.”

“Right,” Dad said. “But she's not there, thanks mostly to you. That's something to be happy about.”

“I guess.”

“You're tired, Dae. Come on, let's get you feeling better.”

CHAPTER
seventeen

WEDNESDAY, 8:09 P.M.

David did feel better. A little. He sat in the bathtub with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. He rested his chin on one of his knees, watching the bubbles Xander had added to the water slowly dissolve. Steam drifted off the surface, making him feel like he was simmering. That brought to mind a joke Robbie, his best friend from Pasadena, had thought was hilarious: Two cannibals were eating a clown. One said to the other, “Does this taste funny to you?”

David smiled, not at the joke, but at the memory of Robbie. They'd attended different schools but had been on the same soccer team for four years. They'd go to movies, have sleepovers, play practical jokes on Xander and Robbie's sister Cambria. But the best thing was that they'd practiced soccer together at Arroyo Seco Park until they'd become an unstoppable one-two punch as star midfielder and striker. One of them would cross the ball to the other, who would snap it into the goal.

Not only had David not played soccer since coming to Pinedale, but his prospects of ever playing again looked bleak. The middle school didn't even offer it. Besides, who could think of sports when his whole world revolved around rescuing his kidnapped mother and just surviving to see another sunrise? It was a rare treat to simply
think
about something other than the craziness of this house. Since moving in, some danger or another was always challenging him, whether he was in one of the far-off worlds or not.

He blew at the bubbles and watched them break apart. He didn't take many baths these days, but this one hit the spot. When he'd first climbed in, his skin had tingled almost painfully. He'd actually felt the warmth reach his muscles, then his bones. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, but he had turned on the hot water twice to keep the water steaming.

The bath reminded him of better times, a long time ago in Pasadena: Mom was home, his friends were a short walk away, his team had won their last game—or not, it was fun either way. Strange how you didn't really appreciate ordinary things until you didn't have them anymore.

When Dad had announced a few months ago that they were moving to Pinedale so he could take a job as a school principal, David had known their lives would change. He just never could have guessed how drastically different they would become.

David closed his eyes and concentrated on the here and now. Silence. Warmth. Less than an hour ago he had nearly drowned in water so cold that if it weren't salty, it would have been ice. That water had churned, turning the air into a cold, misty spray. By the time he and Dad had plunged into the ocean, most of the ship's lights had gone out, leaving everything black. The sky had a smattering of stars, no moon; the water had appeared dark as oil. Screams and yells had filled the night like the howling of forest animals moving in for a kill.

A noise startled him. He opened his eyes to see Xander slipping into the bathroom. His brother closed the door and pressed his back to it. He wore fresh clothes. His hair was damp and sticking up everywhere. He must have taken a shower in Mom and Dad's bathroom.

David's heart stepped up its pace, the way it had done when Toria had burst into the antechamber. He realized that he was
expecting
the next emergency. That's how constant the onslaught had been.

“What?” he said.

Xander said, “Dad wants us in bed right after dinner.”

David relaxed. “Good.”

“
Not
good,” Xander said. He stepped into the small room, lowered the toilet lid, and sat on it. “We have things to do.”

“Like what?”

Xander gaped at him. “Mom?” he said, as if he'd had to remind David of the importance of a beating heart. “We gotta get those walls back up, the ones Phemus knocked down. We have to fortify this place before it all starts up again.”

David realized he and Xander were in sync, both of them expecting trouble to come any second. But they were handling it differently. He wanted to enjoy the calm; Xander wanted to use it to prepare for what David had just thought of as the next emergency. He wondered if Xander had any specific trouble in mind. He said, “What starts up again?”

“The attacks. Taksidian, people from other worlds, the cops, like the ones who arrested Dad yesterday . . . who knows what else. You don't think they're going to stop now, do you?”

“Aren't you tired? You told Dad you were ready to fall over.”

“I am. But Dae, we'll sleep when we're dead.”

The expression startled David. “Where'd you hear that?”

Xander shrugged. “
I'll Sleep When I'm Dead
, pretty cool movie with Clive Owen.”

A movie. Of course.

“Well,” David said, “that day may come sooner than you think.” He propped his cast on the edge of the tub and dipped his head into the water. He flipped his head back, knowing he was splashing Xander but not caring. He pushed his hair off his face and spat out a stream of water.
Sleep when we're dead.
His brother was losing it.

“It will if we don't take care of business,” Xander said. “They know we're weak, Dae. Tired, scared. We're down a man. And Keal's out with him. We're vulnerable, we're . . .”

David returned his head to the water. When he came up, Xander was still talking.