A Kiss in Time (23 page)

J
ack! Meryls banging on my door. I look at the digital clock, and the number burns my eyes.
Seven oclock. In the morn-

ing? Seven
AM
shouldnt even exist, especially in summer. Go away! I yell. Its important! Mom wants you
downstairs. And Ill be there in an hour or three.

Its about Talia!

Talia. Id forgotten about Talia and the news, but now it all floods backthe euphoria of
loving her, the agony that shes leaving, that Ill lose her.

Jack! Give me a second, okay?

When I get downstairs, Mom and Dad are both there. Both. Wheres Talia? Mom holds up a
newspaper. Its open to an article called Leads Sought in Case of Missing Bel- gian Girl.

Its Talia, Meryl says. Shes a runaway. Did you know, Jack? Mom asks. No. I mean, yes, sort
of. I mean, not exactly. What, exactly, Jack? Dad asks. Did you help this girl run away from her family? You didnt . . . kidnap her? It wasnt that way, I say. What way
was it? Dad asks. This sort of thing could ruin your whole life, keep you out of coll Must we make everything about college, Evan?
Mom says. The girl clearly wasnt kidnapped. Did she look kid-

napped to you? She was having a great time. I give her a grateful look, and she says, Why
dont you just tell us what happened, Jack? I nod. Theyll find out, anyway. But you have to sit down, and you have to believe me. Dad grumbles that hes not sure he can believe me about anything now, but Mom gestures for him to sit. I pour out the whole story of Talia and me,
and how we met, and how we escaped. At the end of it, he says, Thats impossible.

I wouldnt believe me, either, not if I hadnt been there and seen it with my own eyes. But
its true. There was a castle and a king and a queen, and Travis wanted to try on the
crowns, and there was this princess. It was Talia.

Its not that we dont trust you, Jack, Mom says. Its just that it seems so Look! I hold up the newspaper. This picture they put of her. Its not a photo. They didnt have photos then. Its an oil painting. And look
what shes wearing.

I point. In the portrait, Talias wearing a crown. Hey, Meryl says. Heres the story again.
Channel six is running last nights interview, but the reporters saying, The man, mad with grief, claims that he comes from another world,
another time.

And theres Talias dad. He has no crown on, but other than that, he looks pretty much like
the Burger King againespecially in his robe. Its that red and gold curtain material they
wear only in pictures of royalty.

I turn to Dad. Do many of the guys you hang with dress like this? Im telling you, hes a
king. When Talia and I saw the report last night Last night? Mom says. You saw the report last night? Uh-oh, Meryl says. You knew about
this last night, and you did noth-

ing? Dad demands. Jack, I knew you were irresponsible, but Im not being irresponsible, not this time. Talia wanted to call her dad, and I agreed she
should. But I was scared, too. I was worried theyd think what you thought, that I
kidnapped her or something. So I wanted to wait until you were here and ask you what to do.

You wanted what?

I guess it sounds lame now, not doing something right away, but you hear all the time
about teenagers getting interrogated by the police without their parents there and even confessing to stuff they didnt do just because the police think theyre guilty, and I
dont know, I just thought maybe youd know the right thing to do. You usually do. So I told
Talia we should wait.

You thought that I could help you? Well, thats . . . something. Dad looks surprised, and
for the first time since I got up this morning, maybe the first time in a year, that line
he gets between his eyebrows when he talks to me disappears. He looks at the television
where, once again, King Louis is crying. The line returns. But now, I believe we must call
and reunite this man with his daughter.

Mom nods. Why dont you go get Talia?

I start toward the study. Im surprised Talia isnt already awake, considering shes been up
and eating pancakes hours before me every day. But maybe, like me, shes trying to put off
calling her dad for as long as possible. Maybe she doesnt want to leave.

I knock on the door of the study. Talia?

No answer. I knock louder. Talia? Wake up, sleepyhead!

Nothing. Talia?

I try the door. Locked. Why locked? She wouldnt lock it. Im not even sure she knows how to
use the lock. I beat on the door, screaming, Talia! Talia! Talia!

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!

She fainted yesterday. What if it happened again? Or she choked? Passed out? Talia!

Finally, Mom shows up with a hairpin. We pick the lock, and I open the door.

The room is empty.

I
am in blackness. It is not like sleep but like being inside a coffin, away from everyone,
everything, closed in with no light anywhere.

Was this what it was like when I slumbered before? Do I slumber again?

No. I am certain there were no dreams in my three hun- dred years sleep. But were there
visitors? Did the fairies check on me or did Malvolia herself? Did they see me?

In the still, black nothingness, I return to sleep.

S
he must have left, Mom says. She was probably anx- ious to talk to her father, and she
locked the door to keep you from finding out she had left. She wouldnt do that, and shed tell me if she did.
But I wonder if thats true. Talia was hot to call her dad, and I stopped her because I was
afraid. But maybe she wanted to call so bad she sneaked out and found a pay phone. After
all, shes already run away once.

I hear my cell phone ringing in my room. Thinking its Talia, I bolt out the door.

Talia? Dude, youre in a big mess. Travis! Travis, calling from Europe. Where are you? Do
you know anything about Talia? I know King Kong and his goons tracked me down with the tour, and theyre trying to torture me for infor- mation. I keep telling them I
dont know anything. They finally let me use my phone, so Im calling you. Youve got to make
her call home.

Shes not here. She didnt go with you? No. Are you with her parents? Im with her dad in
Brussels. Its been a super barrel of laughs, let me tell you. Sorry. She hasnt called there? Its been all over the tele-

vision stations here. Here, too. They all think shes with you, but they dont know who you are. They keep calling you the American youth.

My sister Meryl comes in. Shes carrying something in her hand, two somethings. The first
is Talias jewelry box. Her jewelry box! Shed never leave without that, so she must be
coming back.

I cant see what the other object is, on top of the box. I walk closer.

Jack? Jack, are you there? Yeah, Im here. Shes not with me, Trav, honest. Im standing in
front of Meryl now. I pick up the object on top of the box. Its long and slender and looks hundreds of years old, and even though
Ive never seen one before, I know exactly what it is.

Its a spindle. I have to go, Trav. Ill call you later. I close the phone. What is it? Meryl demands.

She hasnt called home, I say. Now Moms joined Meryl in the kitchen. I think shes been
kidnapped.

Kidnapped? Mom says. Thats impossible. I looked at the windows in that room, and theyre
not broken. They havent even been unlocked. And we have alarms on the doors.

A witch wouldnt need to break a window or, if she did, she could fix it.

A witch? Meryl says.

I nod. Her father and his goons arent going to be able to find her. We have to go to
Euphrasia.

W
hen next I waken, it is daylight, and I am alone. I feel the mattress beneath me. It is
not made of rub- ber, nor filled with air. As I run my hand over the coarse ticking (for
there is no sheet), I feel a small, sharp pain. A pinfeather! The mattress is made of down!

I look out the window. At first, all I see is blue sky and a large chestnut tree shadowing
the grass. Then my eyes grow accustomed to the light, and I make out shapesa holly bush,
the thatch of a cottage roof hanging down, and in the distance below, the spire of a
castle.

I am home! I am in Euphrasia!

E
uphrasia? my mom says. Were back in the kitchen, telling Dad. Thats where shes from. Her
country. I remember Talias words: She took me to her cottage on the highest hill in Euphrasia, where I used to
picnic with Lady Brooke.

But theres no way she could be back in Europe, Mom says. She couldnt get a flight out that
late, even if she left the second you went to sleep.

My parents still arent believing the magical princess stuff. I know. I know it sounds
crazy. But Im not saying she took a commercial airline.

What are you saying, son? my dad asks.

I feel completely stupid telling him what Im thinking. It is stupid, thinking Malvolia
took her through some por- tal to Euphrasia. Its more than stupidits crazy. But so is a princess who sleeps for three hundred years only to be awakened by a doofus
like me. Crazy things happen.

Just not to Dad. Still, I have to try and make him understand. She said the witch was
taking her to Euphrasia, yester-

day when she fainted at Fairchild. I thought she was crazy. I told her so. But now shes
gone. Shes gone, and its my fault for not believing her.

Jack . . . My mom rubs my shoulder. We can look around the neighborhood. She cant have
gone far without a car. But if we dont find her, I think youll have to accept that she ran
away again.

She didnt, I say. She wouldnt run away, and she especially wouldnt run away and leave
this. I gesture toward the spindle. And all her jewelry, too.

Hey, heres what I was looking for, Meryl says from the computer. She points to a Wikipedia
article shes been reading.

Not now, Meryl, Dad says. Hes taken out one of Talias necklaces and is examining it.

No, listen for once! She reads, Carlo Maratti drew ridicule at the end of his life for
claiming to have been the art master to Princess Talia of Euphrasia, a nonexistent
country. And then, one day, he lost his memory entirely. That was Talias art master.

I dont understand, Dad says. He holds up a sapphire to the light. So, Carlo Maratti died in 1713. Jacks telling the truth, Dad. Shes really from the
seventeenth century. Shes really a princess, too! If youd talked to her, youd know its
true.

Dad looks at the computer screen, then at the necklace. Dana, maybe we should listen to
the boy.

What? I say. What? my mom echoes. He seems pretty sure of himself, and besides, I wouldnt mind seeing the place. What place? Mom asks. Euphrasia. It sounds fascinating. So you
actually believe me? I forget for a second how upset I am about Talia. Im glad my dad doesnt know how Wikipedia works, that anyone can
just add stuff, that Meryl could have put those sentences in the article.

You believe what youre saying, dont you? Dad asks me.

I nod. Talia told me that Malvolia would take her to a cottage on the highest hill in
Euphrasia.

But why cant we simply call her parents and tell them to check there? Mom asks.

I think of the empty air mattress, the pillow with the indentation of Talias head. The
spindle.

Because I may need to be there, to rescue her.

W
hat do you want from me? The words are a cry to the room, to no one, to Malvolia, whom I
know is there somewhere, looming like a black bat. But there is no answer. Is she away? Would she
take me here, all the way to Euphrasia, and simply leave me, free to come and go as I please? It is impossible. It is
too simple.

And yet I hear no sign of Malvolia. Indeed, the room is perfectly silent, silent as only
Euphrasian rooms are. Amer- ican rooms always had noise, the blare of the television, or
even at the dead of midnight, smaller sounds, like the tick of a clock, the buzz of a
computer, or the constant whoosh of air-conditioning.

There is no air-conditioning in this cottage, Malvolias cottage, but it is cool
nonetheless, for it is high up in the Euphrasian hills and is shaded by a chestnut tree. I breathe in the fresh air, Euphrasian
air which has not been pro- cessed or filtered in any way. It smells like my childhood,
and I sigh as I remember Mother and Father. After the sigh is true Euphrasian silence. Can
the cottage be empty? Dare I chance walking about?

What have I to lose? And the cottage is small. Surely, if she were lurking, I would hear
her. She would hear me.

I rise.

I am still dressed from last night, in a pair of blue sleep trousers and a T-shirt. My
feet are bare, and I step lightly on the unpolished wooden floor. I tiptoe to the door,
which has a window in it, and then stand by that window, gaz- ing out. No one in sight,
not even a shepherd boy with his flock. I will leave. I will go to my family.

I glance behind me. No one there. I open the door. Going somewhere, Princess?

E
ven though I say its not necessary, Mom insists we drive around the neighborhood, looking
for Talia. We even look at the nearest Trailways bus station and ask if theyve seen her. I
didnt even know there was a Trailways bus station, I tell Mom. What are the odds that
Talia would find it? But Mom says we should leave no stone unturned.

So when weve finally turned every stone (and havent found Talia), we head back home and go
online to order a plane ticket.

Get two, Dad says. Two? One for me, one for you. I heard Dad before when he said he wanted
to see Euphrasia, but I didnt think he was serious. The thought of ten plus hours on the plane with Dad doesnt do it for me. Dont you have work or something?
I ask him. He always has to work. He shrugs. I can move some things around. But I can go by myself. I
went by myself before. The last time you went on a trip by yourself, my dear little sister says, you sneaked away from the tour group, went to a nonexistent country,
and kidnapped the heir to the throne. So, understandably, Dads worried about what will
happen if he sends you back.