The Book of Dares for Lost Friends (15 page)

BOOK: The Book of Dares for Lost Friends
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“Are you
sure
you want the spirits to do that? If it were me, I wouldn't want them untying things so close to my skin,” the guy said.

“Why not?” Drew said.

“Because of the energy required to move the laces. To overcome gravity and inertia and the power of non-belief.”

“What's that?”

“That's what you're thinking. That they won't do it. So they'll have to blast through your brain. Because it will happen. The laces will be untied. And then the ankle wings will fall to the ground and get contaminated.”

Lanora smiled in spite of herself. The guy was a master of manipulation. But why was he going to all this trouble?

“Okay. Take them off. No, not you, Val. Tasman should do it,” Drew said.

Tasman? What kind of a name was that, Lanora wondered. She had to see what he looked like. It ought to be safe. They were busy with their ceremony. She adjusted her hood. She slowly raised herself up until she could just barely peek over the top of the wall.

Tasman wasn't cute, Lanora decided. Not by any real standard. His hair was too wild. His expressions were unpredictable. His ears were crooked. Although that could have been because of the way he bent over Drew's feet. He seemed clumsy. He couldn't get the laces untied. Val came forward to help. Val always wanted to help. Drew kicked at his sister. Val stepped back. Tasman smiled at Val.

It was a brilliant smile.

It was painful to see.

The knots were undone at last. Tasman lifted the ankle wings up above his head, as if he were making an offering to the sun. The light, dappled by the leaves of the trees, shone upon the black and the white. The feathers stirred to life. Was it the wind? Or did another sort of power animate them?

Lanora wished Tasman would put on the ankle wings. She wanted him to run like the wind to deliver messages from the gods. She wanted him to bring one to her. To tell her that everything would be okay.

Because if all those things happened, then maybe it would be.

 

Twenty-five

Val did something she never in a million years expected to do. She thanked her little brother. In public. While they were walking home from the park.

He nodded his head to accept her gratitude. “I'm happy to be a hero. It's what I was born to do. But if I won't get the ankle wings back, you should probably give me something else.”

Val wondered what that should be. “Maybe a different kind of wings? Like those?” She pointed to a little girl dancing along the sidewalk with fairy wings looped to her shoulders.

“I was thinking cold, hard cash.”

Val reached in her pocket and took out a quarter.

Drew shook his head. “Is that all you think they're worth?”

Val sighed. He had her trapped. “Okay. I'll give you more when we get home. We'd better hurry. I don't want Mom mad at me for being late again.”

“Mom and Dad will understand when we tell them,” Drew said.

Val grabbed Drew's shoulders. “You can't tell them. Remember you swore not to tell any parents. That includes ours.”

“Not even if they get mad?” Drew said.

“Especially if they get mad. Come on. Let's race. Then we won't be late.”

They ran the last three blocks, through the lobby, and up the stairs. Drew got to their apartment first. “Ha-ha! I beat you. I told you I was a hero!”

It wasn't a fair contest. Her backpack contained the weight of global history; all he had in his was what he hadn't wanted to eat for lunch.

Mom greeted them at the door. “Dinner's ready.”

They took their usual places at the round table in the dining alcove. As she sat down, Val shifted her chair so she could be in kicking range of Drew. Her dad moved it back. Drew grinned.

“You look very pleased with yourself. Did something good happen at school?” Dad said.

“What good thing could possibly happen at school?” Drew said.

“Maybe you learned something interesting?” Mom said.

Drew leaned forward and whispered loudly. “I did. But not at school.”

Val glared at Drew.

“So what did you and Val do after she picked you up?” Mom said.

Drew looked at Val. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Mom was instantly suspicious.

Val couldn't believe her brother couldn't come up with a better lie. “I rescued Drew from prison and we hid from the bloodhounds.”

“Let your brother talk,” Mom said. “Tell me more about this nothing.”

Drew smiled. “Well.” He scooped a bite of potatoes onto his fork. He waved it in the air. He pointed it at Val. “Val took me to meet a boy.”

“A boy?” Mom leaned forward. “From her school?”

“No. He doesn't go to school,” Drew said.

“Is he homeschooled?” Mom said.

“He's smarter than that,” Drew said.

“No matter how smart he is, he still needs to go to school.” Mom put down her fork and stared at Val.

Val quickly crammed potatoes into her mouth. It would be rude to answer any questions with her mouth full. Unfortunately it didn't take long to chew mashed potatoes.

“How did you meet him?” Mom said.

“At a bookstore,” Val said.

“Where does he live?” Mom said.

Val shrugged.

“I know,” Drew said.

“You do?” Val said.

“He lives in the store. With all the other things that have been shipwrecked by time. That's why he doesn't go to school. Or even to get a haircut. Because time washed him ashore in a place he didn't mean to be. But that was okay. Except it messed up his clothes.”

Val watched her parents both wipe the smiles off their faces with their napkins.

“I bet he has superpowers,” Dad said.

“Yes. He has the power to make people change their minds,” Drew said.

“I wish I had that power. Then maybe I could get an appointment to see the mayor,” Mom said.

“Why do you want to see the mayor?” Val was eager to change the subject.

“Remember I told you how the people at the soup kitchen are losing their permit to prepare food?” Mom explained about her most recent effort to fight City Hall.

After dinner, Val went into Drew's room to deliver what she hoped was an adequate payoff. She opened the map of the United States and dumped her entire collection of state quarters on his bed.

He lifted handfuls of silver. The coins clinked satisfyingly as they dribbled through his fingers. He smiled. “I accept this ransom. But only because I realize how difficult it is to get diamonds these days.”

“Oh, thank you, wise lord.” Val bowed to him.

Drew sadly shook his head. “You just don't know how to play, do you?”

“What was wrong with that?”

Drew patted her on the shoulder. “That's okay. You have other uses. And you have an interesting friend.”

She didn't want to discuss Tasman with Drew. “Good night, Pest.”

“Good night, Bossy Pants.”

She was at his door when he said, “Do you think the ankle wings broke the spell? Is Lanora saved now?”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean, maybe?” Drew jumped on his bed so he could be as tall as Val. He glared at her.

She was afraid to tell him she had two more things to get. The gift from the Star Tamer. And the gift from her own heart. She hadn't even figured out what those things were. Or what she should do with them when she had all three. What if they weren't enough? What if she also needed the incantation bowl? How could she get something that might not exist?

“I don't want to trade my ankle wings for a maybe!” Drew hissed at her.

“The maybe is … I don't know if it happened yet. That's all. Now I have to do my homework.”

“That's what you always say.”

“Because I always do.”

She went back to her room and got out her homework. The books surrounded her on her bed. She opened her history book. She found a map of the world. What country had
The Book of Dares
come from? Did that place even still exist?

She took the scroll of parchment from its hiding place under the mattress. She unrolled it and looked at what she had written. The handwriting was unrecognizable, even though she knew she had been the one to hold the pen.

Second, I bring to you a gift from the Star Tamer, who from his great heights has given proof of his devotion to our cause.

Who was the Star Tamer?

She looked out the window at the night sky. The bright light she thought was a star turned out to belong to a jet. But she could see the moon.

Several blocks of buildings separated her apartment from Lanora's. Val remembered when Lanora had decided that if they both looked at the moon at the same time, their lines of sight would meet on its surface in the Mare Nubium—the Sea of Clouds. Everyone knew the moon reflected the sun's light. But if the moon reflected other things, as well, Lanora and Val could send each other messages—allowing, of course, for the time it took to travel 500,000 miles there and back. This had been an exciting discovery—when they were nine. Val doubted that Lanora was looking at the moon and sending her thought waves now.

It seemed much more possible that Tasman was.

 

Twenty-six

Each morning, Emma tried different ways to make Lanora get out of bed. She played soothing music. She played military marches. She cooked bacon. She burned the toast. She said, “Rise and shine, sweetheart.” But Lanora didn't rise and she certainly didn't shine. She ignored her mom's efforts. She buried under her blankets until she heard her mom screech, “You have to go to school!” Then the door slammed as Emma left for work.

This morning was like every other except for one thing. Lanora had seen the boy with the amazing eyes. The one with Val. Lanora wouldn't refer to him as Val's boyfriend. Even if he was, which Lanora doubted, she didn't have to call him that. His name was Tasman.

Tasman didn't go to school, either. Lanora instinctively knew this by the way his mind traveled way beyond the limitations of a classroom. She wondered what he had done. Had he been suspended? Or bullied? Was he scared? Or was he brave? Why hadn't he gone back? More importantly, where did
he
go all day? If she met him, would he say, “Are you taking a gap year, too? Are you trying to find yourself?”

Then she would shake her head. “No, I want to lose myself.”

And he would get it.

She shut her eyes for a moment. Being understood had seemed an impossible dream—until she had seen Tasman.

She quickly got out of bed and put on her typical disguise of jeans and a gray hoodie. Then she returned to her closet. She needed to wear something else if she wanted him to recognize her as a kindred spirit. Most boys didn't pay attention to clothes. But he would appreciate the sea green gauze shirt her mom had bought for that costume party. Its sleeves ended in triangle points, just below her knees. It had meanings she couldn't begin to guess.

She left the apartment and ran down the three flights of stairs. The sun was shining. The sky was blue. New York City brimmed with possibilities again.

At the Museum of Natural History, gigantic orbs floated inside a great glass building. They were so large and yet they were mere models of the planets. She wished she could hear what he had to say about that. But he wasn't there. Instead, a yellow school bus disgorged a swarm of small children, so she moved on.

Would he go to the park? Would he go back to the Bower? For some reason, he had seemed nervous there. And so she walked in the opposite direction.

Coffee shops? Could he afford to buy something? Maybe not. He had been wearing such awful old slippers.

Where could he go to delight his extraordinary mind? The public library, of course.

She climbed the steps and pushed through the old wooden doors. What would he want to learn about? She avoided the kids' section and walked among the shelves with more challenging books. Science? Philosophy? History? She paused by a row of encyclopedias. She took the volume with the
T
. She wanted to learn why his name sounded familiar even though no one she knew had been called that.

She sat at a table and opened the book. There was a famous Tasman in the 17th century. Abel Tasman was an explorer. Many places had been named after him, including the large island off the coast of Australia. The encyclopedia had a picture of a cartoon monster called the Tasmanian Devil. But it didn't tell her what she wanted to know. How had Abel Tasman found the courage to venture into the unknown? How could he stand on the deck of a small ship and sail on toward an empty sea? Battered by storms, blown off course, confronted by hostile Maoris in New Zealand, he survived it all and made his way back to his world. But he had not been welcomed as a hero. Since he hadn't found anything useful, the Dutch East India Company decided to use a more “persistent explorer” for future expeditions.

In other words, everybody thought he had failed.

That wasn't at all what she hoped to find out.

She pushed away from the book on the table and left the library.

The sidewalks were as crowded as usual. People walked past her. They were in a hurry. They knew where they were going. They were eager to reach their destinations. Nothing was blowing them off course.

Then someone stopped directly in front of her. Lanora's head was down, but she recognized the muddy sneakers.

It was Val.

Lanora looked up, but only briefly. She didn't want to see pity in Val's eyes.

Neither one spoke. Neither one knew what to say. There was too much to say.

Lanora tried the smile, the one she was practicing for when she returned to M.S. 10. But her mouth trembled like a weight lifter whose muscles quavered with exertion. She couldn't hold the pose. The barbells crashed to the floor.

*   *   *

Val decided not to run after Lanora. Sometimes you just had to let your teammate take a time-out on the sidelines. You had to focus on your own playing, if the game was still in progress. Val needed to find the gift from the Star Tamer, whoever he or she was.
Second, I bring to you a gift from the Star Tamer, who from his great heights has given proof of his devotion to our cause.

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