The Glass Castle (9 page)

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” Kate said as she worked.

“My mother disappeared two years ago.”

“Oh?”

“She kissed me one morning when I was playing with Henry in the woods and said she would see me soon. She reminded me not to lose my ruby flower necklace, and then she left and never came back.”

“I’m sorry,” Kate said. “I’m sure that was painful.”

“I’ve never known any pain like it until I lost Henry. He was my responsibility after my mother disappeared, and I failed him.”

Kate stopped brushing. “You haven’t lost Henry. I know you have questions, and we will find the answers together. I’m on your side, always.”

Avery turned and looked at Kate. “The other night I was almost asleep when I heard you say you would help me find them if I stayed here. What did you mean?”

Kate’s eyes darkened. “I
will
help you, but I’m sure you were only dreaming.”

Not a moment too soon, Kate was done and held up a mirror.

Avery laughed in shocked delight.

Her once-unruly nest had been brushed to a shine and was pulled back into a series of braids that met in a knot at the base of her neck. She looked years older and felt prettier than she thought possible.

“Who taught you to do this?” Avery asked, but Kate was already tugging her arm.

“We need to go! We’re late.”

Kate led Avery to a huge meeting hall where she could almost taste the excitement in the air. A group in the center of the room bobbed for apples. Others ate popcorn balls or tossed bags of beans at wooden pins, cheering when they knocked them all down. There was laughter and music instead of the normal hushed tones and sideways glances. Even the boys who fought every morning at the breakfast table appeared to be getting along.

Everyone wore festive clothes—several girls wore wreaths of green leaves and red berries in their hair. A table was laden with more treats than could possibly be eaten by everyone in the room. A heavy chandelier bore hundreds of candles that set the room ablaze in gold.

From this perspective, the kids’ side of the castle was a kingdom unto itself.

“What’s going on?” Avery called. “Won’t we be discovered?”

“The king is throwing a large banquet downstairs to celebrate his new engagement. It will last all hours of the night. Scouts are on guard to be sure we are safe.”

Avery pulled Kate to a corner where she could hear herself over the din.

“So what are
we
celebrating?” she shouted.

“Tonight is the election!”

“What is the election? Will it help us get out of here?”

“You’ve got to stop trying to get out of here and start figuring out why you’re here in the first place.”

Kate nudged Avery in the direction of a boy in a corner distributing small pieces of parchment. He tapped a large wooden box and said in a rehearsed, if not overly enthusiastic voice, “Voting is a sacred privilege, ladies. Write the name of the person you feel is best suited to lead us and cast your vote into this box. Remember, your decision could alter our destiny.” He bowed dramatically.

Avery rolled her eyes.

She had thought the vote was important—something related to the king or even their freedom—but this was just a silly stunt the kids created to distract themselves. It was nothing more than voting for the leader of their little secret society.

Kate smiled. “Two ballots, please.”

It seemed a waste of time, but Avery wrote a name in large black letters and dropped it into the box. She intended to make a sarcastic remark, but Kate yanked her to a table of apple bars, warm from the oven.

“Rumor has it,” Kate said, “that you don’t know how to bake.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Avery said with a smile.

The party continued long into the night before the music stopped and Ballot Box Boy called everyone together. Avery nicknamed him Boxy in her mind.

“Leadership is important,” Boxy began. “It is vital that someone rise up from among us and lead this group as our junior king. Our corner of the castle needs a leader that is better than any downstairs.”

The crowd erupted.

Avery was annoyed that the kids seemed to take the vote so seriously. This wasn’t a real election. It had no consequences. Junior kings were powerless.

Boxy continued. “Never believe the lie that we can’t be leaders. It’s a myth circulated by adults who choose not to lead. Even as kids we have everything we need to make an impact on other people.”

Again the kids broke into applause, and Avery wondered if Boxy himself hoped to be king.

“Two weeks ago,” Boxy said, “we agreed we should elect our own king, responsible to guide our search for freedom. I hold in my hand the results.”

The crowd leaned forward in anticipation.

Chapter 15

Coronation

With great gusto, Boxy unfolded the parchment and held it high for everyone to see.

“You have elected Tuck to be our king!”

Avery forgot her annoyance and joined in the applause. She, too, had voted for Tuck. There was something undeniably
leader-like
about him.

Kate leaned close and whispered, “You’re obviously happy about this.”

Avery didn’t have time to respond before Tuck was prodded forward. He looked embarrassed as Boxy presented him with a heavy gold medallion to wear around his neck and a thick fur shawl that looked several sizes too big and seemed to weigh him down. Avery wondered if these, too, had been castle castoffs. They looked like something a prince would wear.

They look right on Tuck.

The crowd quieted and Boxy held out a book that looked like an old atlas. Tuck put his hand on it before Boxy began to speak. “Will you promise to rule us according to the laws and customs we create with justice and mercy in all your decisions?”

“I will.”

“Then I proudly declare you our junior king.”

The crowd erupted again, calling for Tuck to say something. After trying to quiet them, he turned a wooden bucket upside down and stood on it so that he was head and shoulders above everyone.

“Thank you,” he said as the kids clapped and whistled and called out their congratulations. A few yelled, “We knew it!” and pumped their fists.

“Until today,” Tuck said, “we’ve each played by our own rules. We were each brought here against our will, and we’ve each handled it in our own way. But look around. We’re all here for the same reason, but what have we done to make our situation better? How have we worked together to accomplish good? Are we any closer to freedom now than the day we arrived?”

A collective
no
rose from the crowd.

“Today, everything changes. Today we set aside our tribal rivalries and personal ambitions to become a family. I will do my best to lead honorably. I will carry your hope and your confidence with me. You can depend on that.”

A cheer went up.

Avery could see in that moment why everyone admired Tuck.

Tuck continued. “I need to depend on you to promise to do your best to love your neighbor as yourself. And you have my word, I will find a way for us all to be free as soon as possible.”

Avery wondered what
free
meant to orphans. While they may have felt this was the first place they had a large extended family, it couldn’t last forever. Either they would be turned back out to fend for themselves on the street or they would be
discarded.
Angelina’s words rang in her mind.

“I will kill… All. Of. Them.”

The faces in the room—dirty, tired, and sad—were those of kids who hadn’t had a mother to tell them stories or a father to build them tree houses. Even held captive in a castle, Avery knew she had been more blessed in her lifetime than anyone else in the room.

Boxy was talking again.

“Tuck, it is now your duty to select a cabinet of two you can rely on to help you do your job—an adviser and a queen. Choose wisely.”

Tuck didn’t hesitate. “For adviser, Kendrick,” he said, motioning for a wiry, bespectacled, unsmiling boy who appeared uncomfortable as he stood to join Tuck.

“He was the one who arrived the day you did,” Kate whispered.

The boy in the other box on the raft.

He was solemn and scholarly. The choice surprised Avery, but she suspected Tuck had the charisma and Kendrick had the intellect to form a strong team.

Boxy presented Kendrick with a smaller medallion to wear around his neck.

And then a sinking feeling hit Avery. She knew who would be queen. Ilsa sat a few feet away, giggling with a group of girls who were already patting her on the back and whispering in her ear.

She’d been campaigning for Tuck’s nomination for king all along—with her own appointment in mind, of course. It all made sense now.

Tuck raised a hand to quiet the buzz over Kendrick’s selection. “And for queen…”

No one moved.

“I choose Avery.”

The crowd gasped.

The clapping—what little there was—proved short-lived and felt forced.

“Who?”

“Who’s Avery?”

“The girl who almost burned down the kitchen?”

The questions weren’t even subtle. Avery could hear them from where she sat.

And she couldn’t blame them.

She was as surprised as they were. She hardly knew anyone but Kate, and she had no interest in staying in the castle any longer than she had to, let alone in being part of some secret cabinet led by kids in the castle of a king who ordered them
discarded.

The kids looked around expectantly.

Kate nudged her and whispered, “You really need to stand. Tuck is waiting.”

Knowing her face had to be pulsing crimson, Avery shuffled to her feet and moved through a silent crowd to join Tuck and Kendrick. She owed Tuck that much. He was being kind to her
again.

She would argue his decision later, encourage him to make Kate his queen.

Boxy handed Tuck a tiara made of perfect pink pearls—simple yet beautiful—and Avery was grateful, suddenly, that her hair was fixed.

Kate knew I would be elected, but how?

Avery knelt, and Tuck placed the tiara on her head. Avery wondered what royal had worn it. It was nothing like the crowns of sticks she had worn in the woods.

Boxy formally intoned, “Tuck, Avery, and Kendrick, wear your adornments with pride, as they indicate you accept the responsibility they represent. If you should ever choose to resign your post, you must forfeit these tokens.”

Avery wanted to remove the tiara and run for the door, but when she caught sight of Ilsa—surrounded by her black-ribboned ladies in waiting, her mouth set and her eyes fixed on Avery’s—she decided the tiara would stay right where it was for the time being.

In fact, she met Ilsa’s gaze and reached with both hands to straighten the tiara and make sure it was firmly in place.

Fiddle playing erupted from the corner and the kids began clapping and dancing—dresses twirling under the swaying chandelier—every worry seeming momentarily forgotten.

I must be the only one who doesn’t want to be here, trapped in this perfect world.

To me, a world without my family is the farthest thing from perfect.