Wood Sprites (28 page)

The alarm woke Louise. She lay in the darkness for a minute, confused. Then she remembered that it was Shutdown and Pittsburgh was back on Earth. They had gone to bed early so they could spend all night trying to reach Orville, assuming that he was the Wright listed in the phone book. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness and she made out Jillian sitting on her bed, sheets piled around her, face illuminated by the screen of her phone. A quiet voice said, “All circuits are busy, please try again later.” Jillian grunted as if hit, and her fingers moved on her phone’s keyboard.

“Go back to sleep,” Jillian said after her third attempt got the same error message. “I’ll wake you up if I get through.”

“I want to stay awake.”

“If I don’t get through before three, you’re going to have to take over trying to get through. We have to keep trying until midnight tomorrow.”

April had said that it was unlikely they would get through during the first few hours, but it was upsetting to think that three hours might go by without success.

* * *

It was still dark when Jillian woke Louise. “I didn’t get through. I never even got a connection.”

“April got to the border Saturday; she’ll get in,” Louise said with more confidence than she felt. She glanced at the clock. It was three-thirty. Jillian had let her sleep an extra half hour. They needed to be awake for school at five-thirty. Louise reset the alarm.

By failure number seven, Jillian was breathing deeply.

The world was strangely quiet as Louise sat dialing her phone. It seemed as if the whole world were holding its breath, just as afraid for her sister as she was.

* * *

At four twenty-three, the phone clicked instead of immediately giving Louise a recording. Her heart leaped up and then sunk down to her toes as it gave a standard busy signal. She hung up and redialed. It clicked, and after a moment of silence, gave a busy signal again. Her heart had done the same dizzying loop of up and down and back to rest.

* * *

“Oh, you do have a phone!” Iggy said when they met him at the subway platform shortly after eight. It had become a ritual at some point that Iggy walked with them to school from the subway station.

“Doh!” Jillian hit dial to try yet again. “Everyone has phones, even the Amish.”

“Isn’t that against their religion?” Iggy asked.

“I report it, not explain it,” Jillian stated.

Jillian’s phone suddenly connected, and a man spoke over her phone. “Hey, this is Oilcan. My life imploded, and I’m not going to be home until
probably
Wednesday. I ran over my headset. It’s in a zillion pieces that not even Tinker could fix. If you really, really need to talk to me, call Tinker. Be warned that she’s in full Godzilla mode. If you don’t have Tinker’s number, call Roach.”

They stared at Jillian’s phone for several heartbeats.

“Normally you leave a message after something like that.” Iggy pointed to the still connected phone.

“That’s not the right number.” Jillian disconnected the call.

“Ah, okay, I was wondering. Those sound like gang names. And headsets? Only bikers use those.”

Jillian glanced to Louise as she put her phone away. “I’ll have to look up the right number later.”

“So.” Iggy bounced in place. “Are you psyched?”

“Huh?” Louise said.

“Tomorrow you start flying!” Iggy meant for the play.

Jillian swore slightly as the twins traded glances. They had totally forgotten about the play again in the flood of other concerns. Because of the bombing, all the school activities had been pushed back a week, including the sixth-grade class play. They’d made up for lost time on stagecraft with after-school sessions. They hadn’t had access to the stage, however, until last week. It meant they spent the first few days moving pieces of the sets into place, assembling them, and testing their blocking.

Jillian and Iggy started to practice lines, which left Louise to consider Oilcan’s answering machine message. They still didn’t know if this man was their cousin, Orville. They’d scripted out a series of questions that they could have asked to establish his identity. If he wasn’t going to be home during the Shutdown window, then they could only leave a message. Should they without knowing if this was really Orville or not?

It was painful to feel exactly nine years old.

* * *

“We could just say ‘Alexander is in danger’ and not give any other information on her, not even her gender, and if it isn’t Orville, he’ll have no idea who we’re talking about.”

They’d hidden themselves in the girls’ restroom to discuss the problem before the homeroom bell rang.

“I don’t know. Two kids call and leave a message about elves kidnapping your cousin—who’s going to believe that? It’s going to sound like a joke.”

“We can have Tesla leave it.” Jillian dropped her pitch to the gravelly tone of Tesla’s original deep voice, before they changed it to sound like Christopher Robin.
“Ohayougozaimasu, Orville-san.”

“That could work, but do we say who is going to kidnap Alexander? Sparrow is a double agent working inside the Wind Clan. We don’t know whom she’s working for or why. It isn’t Windwolf; he’s a target, too. And Sparrow probably isn’t going to carry out the kidnapping herself.”

“I know! I know!” Jillian cried. “Okay. We’ll call Lain.”

“What? Lain?”

“She’s Alexander’s aunt.”

“But she might not know that. Esme didn’t want April to tell her about Alexander.”

“While Esme was still on Earth.” Jillian wrapped her arms around Louise. “If I were leaving Earth like that, I would know that I was never coming back. And that I would never see you again. I would want the last time we’re together to be all good memories—and that certainly wouldn’t work if I dropped a shitload of crazy on you.”

Louise shuddered at the idea of losing Jillian. “So, you think that Esme would have left a note or something that Lain could read after they’d said good-bye?”

Jillian nodded. “I would. A big long sappy note of everything that hurt too much to say.”

“Like what?”

“You know. Like how I was going to miss waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and knowing that I wasn’t alone. And how scary everything was going to be without you with me. You’re the brave one. I couldn’t do half the things we do without you leading the way.”

“Me? Brave?”

“Yeah!” Jillian squeezed her hard and then let her go, embarrassed. “Anyhow, I’m betting Esme did tell Lain before she jumped.”

The homeroom bell rang, ending their moment of privacy.

“Okay,” Louise said. “We’ll call Lain.”

* * *

Mr. Howe was standing in the hallway with Miss Hamilton. They had Elle with them plus the two boys, Darius and Carlos, who were playing Wendy’s younger brothers. Darius had been picked for John because he was the best of all the fifth-grade boys at remembering lines after Iggy. Carlos was the smallest of the boys and thus had been picked to play Michael, the baby of the Darling family.

“Girls, there’s been a change in plan. The flying instructor is here. They’ve installed the wires for the play, and you’re going to be spending today learning how to use it.”

Jillian breathed out a curse that only Louise could hear.

“Today?” Louise asked fearfully.

A weird side effect of playing with the spells was that the residual magic seemed to be giving Louise horrible nightmares. One of the recurring ones was Jillian falling, and it had them both a little edgy about the flying.

“Yes, we were originally scheduled for last Wednesday but . . .” She paused as the sentence led her to the bombing. The teachers seemed reluctant to discuss it, as if they had been repeatedly told not to bring it up.

“But I thought it was moved to tomorrow,” Louise said.

“There was a conflict in schedules, and we got bumped to today. Go down to the theater with Mr. Howe.”

He held up his hand to check them and stepped into 502. “Behave!” Mr. Howe growled at his class. “I’ll get a full report, so don’t think I won’t know.”

With that warning, he led them downstairs. The twins followed, exchanging glances that spoke volumes. The flying instruction was a full-day affair. Jillian was better at lying, but she was going to be strapped into a harness and suspended from the ceiling all day. Louise would have to be the one to call Lain.

* * *

The flying instructor was a giant. He towered over the twins and was nearly a foot taller than even Mr. Howe.

“I’m Rob Noble. I’m with Flights of New York. In the next two days I’ll teach you how to operate the equipment and help you choreograph the entire play. I’ve done hundreds of productions of
Peter Pan
, so I know the characters and I know the scenes. I can give you complete blocking instructions or I can just make suggestions. This is your production, not mine. Today we’ll get you comfortable at flying and then choreograph everything but the fight on the
Jolly Roger
.”

He held a harness that was a belt with wide suspenders and straps that looped through the legs. The reinforced back had one large ring. “We’ll be using these flying harnesses, and only them. Safety is very important, so never try to hook the wire to something like a belt or a piece of clothing and expect it to hold. The harness goes under a costume. It can’t be dyed or painted, because that might weaken the material. You’ll want a T-shirt on under it; you don’t want it up against your skin. Stage manager?”

Louise put up her hand when she realized he was asking who was acting in that position.

“Okay. Before any practice or performance, it’s your responsibility to check the harness for wear. If it looks like it’s fraying or breaking in any way, you have to tell your teachers that it can’t be used. I’m leaving lots of spare harnesses with your teachers, so don’t try to jury-rig something. Do you understand?”

Louise nodded.

“I will be double-checking the equipment, too,” Mr. Howe said.

“The more eyes on it, the better.” Mr. Noble pointed to a dangling rope. “Yesterday we installed the equipment and tested it. This here is called a flying wire.” He took out a flashlight and pointed it up to the ceiling to show where it connected and then followed its path down to a complex set of pulleys and cams. “It’s controlled by what we call a lift line. It used to be that for every flyer, you would need one or two humans on this line. We now have these robots that we will be programming in the choreography. It will be a little tedious, so you have to be patient, but once we have the movement entered, it’s actually easier and safer for the flyers.”

He tucked away the flashlight. “Who is Peter?”

“I am.” Jillian moved up to lean against Louise.

The instructor did a double take. “Oh! Twins! I think you’re going to be the smallest Peter I’ve worked with.”

Jillian put her hands on her hips, jerking Peter’s boldness up like a shield. “Size has nothing to do with talent!”

He grinned. “Of course not. Have you ever taken dance classes?”

“Yes.” The twins had taken a variety of dance classes at the YMCA.

“I take classes at the Dance Conservatory.” Elle stepped forward with ballet flourish. “I’m playing Wendy.”

“Good, good, that will help. Let’s get you into your harness.”

Louise took her place at the lighting board. She needed a stool to reach the array of monitors and switches. Mr. Noble had linked the lift operator robots to the stage’s computer. By design, the board was out of sight from anyone in the audience. Half-blinded by the lights on the stage, the teachers wouldn’t be able to see her if they stayed with the actors. Louise took out her phone and dialed Lain’s number. The call went through, but the line was busy. She hissed out a swear word. She wouldn’t be able to use an auto-dialer since she had to stay focused on the flyers while they were in the air. She couldn’t drop everything if the auto-dialer connected unexpectedly. She tucked her phone among the various buttons, switches, and slide controls. She hit disconnect and then redial.

* * *

She found a rhythm to her work. The action suggested a melody to her, so she would write a section of song, dial Lain’s number, program in the newest flight movements, check her phone’s screen, tweak the lighting, and disconnect from the busy signal. Carlos and Darius as Michael and John Darling were going to stay comic relief as they struggled with the flying. Jillian and Elle astounded Mr. Noble with the speed at which they learned the basics. He shifted them from the simple single harness that they started with into a three-point harness that would allow more complicated movements.

“Who designed your sets?” Mr. Noble asked as they started to program in the choreography of Peter’s secretive arrival at the Darling nursery.

“Louise did.” Mr. Howe’s focus was wholly on Jillian as she cartwheeled through the air, fifteen feet up. “In fifth grade, we turn everything over to the kids. Louise designed them and the class built them.”

“Really? Wow.” Mr. Noble gave a tip of a hat to Louise while keeping his eye on Jillian. “Your set is amazing for flying. Most productions forget about the three-dimensional aspects of the play and just do one level. And I really like the New York skyline twist. Never saw that before.”