The Magic Half (6 page)

Run away? Miri’s eyes slid down to the floor and then up to the sharp glare of the bare lightbulb that lit the kitchen. Suddenly, Miri realized something. She had been seeing Molly’s life as something separate from hers. But it wasn’t. Here in the world of 1935, Miri had a one-person family, and it was Molly. If she was going to grow up in this strange, unfamiliar world, she wanted to do it with Molly. What happened to Molly happened to her. “Okay,” she said slowly. “I think I will.” She gazed through the screened porch to the weathered barn. If she ran away, she would be leaving the last connection to her world. The only place that looked like home. But what good was it? It
wasn’t
home; it only looked like it. And not even that much. And if they ran away, she wouldn’t have to spend the rest of her life hiding from Horst and Aunt Flo. “Okay,” she said again.

“You’ll do it?” Molly exclaimed. “Oh, that’s swell! I was afraid you wouldn’t.” She smiled hugely at Miri. “Here, let me make you some bread and butter. I didn’t get to sneak any food from supper because of the glass.” She turned busily from the sink to the countertop.

“Where are we going to run to?” asked Miri thoughtfully.

Molly hadn’t figured that out. “I don’t know yet. The woods, maybe?” She jerked her head to the dark trees beyond the barn.

“Hmm. What would we eat?” Miri asked. “You know how to trap animals?”

“No. Maybe I could learn. Or we could eat berries—but not in the winter, I guess. I heard New York City is nice,” said Molly. “My daddy sent me a postcard from there once. Hey! Maybe we could find my daddy and live with him.”

“Maybe.” Miri remembered pictures she had seen of people selling apples on street corners during the Depression. “Might be kind of hard to get to New York City, though. Unless—do you have any money?”

“Ha! Any money I get,
she
takes it.” Molly handed her a generous slice of bread, slathered with butter. Miri took a large bite and tried to think. The magic had brought her here—maybe they would magically find money if they ran away. Maybe. Probably not. Running away without any money in the middle of the Depression didn’t seem like a very good plan.

“I got an idea where I can get some money, though,” said Molly, her eyes bright and determined. Miri thought that this was probably how she looked when she sawed the passageway into the attic.

“Where?”

“I’ll steal it!”

“How?”

Molly grinned. “From Horst. He’s got loads of money stashed away somewhere. I know he does, but I don’t know where. I’ve been searching his room when he’s not home, but he’s such a loafer he spends half the day on that dumb bed.”

“How come you think he’s got money?” asked Miri. “I mean, where would he get it if he doesn’t work?”

Molly looked over her shoulder and then leaned her head toward Miri’s. “He’s a thief,” she said in a low voice.

“A thief?” Miri, chewing, was doubtful. “I thought thieves were supposed to be smart. Why do you think so?”

“For one, he’s always got money. Nobody roundabout here has much money, but Horst always has a big roll of greenbacks in his pocket,” Molly explained excitedly, looping one of her crooked braids over her ears. “Not that he gives his ma or his sister any, but I seen him take it out at the store to get his own stuff. And second, there was a bunch of things getting stolen in Paxton last winter, and when I went to town in June I heard from Mrs. Baker—you know what’s funny? She works in the bakery—she said that Judge Kent’s house got robbed and the robber took Mrs. Kent’s pink gold bracelet.” Molly ran out of breath, and looked at Miri in triumph, as though she had proved that Horst had done it.

But Miri was looking absently at the sink, where the dishes sat forgotten in gray water. She was remembering what Ray and Robbie had told her, was it only that morning? It seemed like years ago. An old man, who had lived in the valley for a long time, had said that there was stolen jewelry buried on their property. A thief had once lived in the house, but none of his loot had ever been found. Maybe it was Horst. He was crummy and nasty enough to be a criminal, that was for sure. But he’s such a loser, she thought. He’d get caught in a minute. What if he’s just pretending to be a loser? This was a worrying thought, and Miri was about to share it with Molly, when a sharp voice called from the dining room. “Those dishes had better be done!” Both girls recognized the tight crack of heels against the floor.

“Barn!” hissed Molly.

With an agonized nod, Miri leaped toward the back door—and slammed full-speed into the kitchen table. A frying pan the size of a wheel crashed to the floor with a thunderous clatter. “Sorry!” Miri managed to whisper as she flung herself out the door.

Not a minute too soon. Flo whirled in furiously. “You worthless, stupid girl!” she raged. “Are you possessed by the devil? Wouldn’t surprise me, not atall. Or maybe you’re
trying
to destroy my house. Is that it? I wouldn’t put it past you for a minute, not a minute! Ohh.” She knelt to pick up the vast pan, and rubbed her hands over the floor. “You took a big chunk out of the wood here. And don’t tell me you didn’t mean to—I know you! I’ll teach you about clumsy, miss!”

Meanwhile, Miri threw herself down the back steps into the soft blue night and landed with a thump in a bed of dirt. There was the barn, looming ahead of her, a dark shape against the sky. She headed toward it through a cloud of lightning bugs. At least lightning bugs in summer were the same. She could hear Flo’s harsh voice scolding Molly about the frying pan, and some soft music from a radio deep inside the house. Miri edged closer to the rhododendron bushes for cover.

Suddenly, the faded evening was pierced by two bright beams. A truck creaked down the dirt drive by the side of the house, its headlights glaring over the grass, the elm, and the tired gray boards of the barn. Miri cringed and backed herself into the nearest bush until she had fully disappeared. She heard a car door slam and mild, shuffling steps moving toward the back door. A meek knock, and Flo stuck her head out the window. “Who’s there?”

“It’s Bud, ma’am. Sissy at home?”

“Whyn’t you come to front door, Bud?” asked Flo crabbily. “We’ve got one.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the voice agreed. “Do you want me to go around?”

“Siss-
y!
” hollered Flo. “Bud Water’s here at the back door.”

Miri heard a window open. “Why on earth do you have to come to the back door like a cracker?” said Sissy. “I must have told you a hundred times.”

“I forgot,” said Bud. “I’m sorry.”

“Go out to the front.” The window slammed. The meek footsteps shuffled away.

Miri had a sudden vision of Sissy at about age fifty. She would be just exactly as mean as her mother. She’s only a little nice now because she’s young and pretty, thought Miri. Feeling intelligent, she climbed out of the rhododendron bush and walked quickly to the barn, pulling leaves out of her hair.

CHAPTER
7

M
IRI’S EYES CLICKED
open. She lay very still, trying to figure out where she was. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw rough wooden boards rising over her head. Her hand cautiously patted the floor beneath her. What was this stuff? She brought some of it close to her face. Hay. The barn. She was hiding in the barn—and now it all came pouring and tumbling back, like water out of a faucet. She sat up and shivered in the nighttime cool. Where was Molly? And what time was it? And how long had she been sleeping?

She had come up into the loft because it seemed to offer better hiding opportunities. Down below, in the regular part of the barn, there was a dopey- looking cow in a stall and a lot of rusty machinery. There were also chickens in a coop just outside, and for a moment she had thought of stowing away there, but then she realized that the chickens would probably freak out, and besides, she didn’t want to be that close to chickens. They gave her the creeps.

The cow stared at her stupidly while Miri pondered. Then she saw the ladder leading up into the darkness above. A loft—that was just exactly what she needed! Up she climbed, and the first thing she saw was a big, puffy stack of hay. In a moment, she was comfortably stretched out on top of it.

She would just rest for a while, she thought, until Molly showed up. But her eyes kept closing, and her brain, trying to make sense of the day, stumbled and looped until it was whirling with shovels and glasses and a small iron bed and a cat (where was the cat?) and Molly’s braids and fairies and Aunt Flo’s pinched nose and Horst’s meaty hand closing over a chicken leg and Molly’s smile when she said, “I’ll steal it!” And where was Molly anyway?

After a few minutes of struggling, sleep won. Miri’s eyes fell shut and she dreamed she was in a house of mirrors with her brothers and they wanted to break all the mirrors. “You can’t do that!” cried Miri indignantly. “No one will be able to see themselves!”

She was so mad she woke up.

Now, listening in the dark loft, she became aware of a sound from below. It was a quiet scraping, the sort of sound you make if you’re trying not to let people hear you. There’s Molly! thought Miri eagerly. Molly must be creeping around, looking for her.

Miri leaned forward to call to her friend but a little whisper of caution stopped her. She remembered the dining room disaster and thought, Look first. So she leaned out from the loft to peer into the barn below, expecting to see Molly scuffling about with her crooked braids and limp dress.

The barn was dim, its corners lost in shadows. But even in the half-light, Miri could see that the figure below did not belong to Molly. It was Horst. He was kneeling on the wooden floorboards near a high wagon, his wide back toward Miri, and, by the light of a small lantern, he was carefully, gently pulling up one of the boards in the floor. Miri couldn’t believe how quiet he was being.

She held her breath. What if she sneezed? Her arms began to itch, but she didn’t dare to move them. She didn’t dare move any part of herself, because being caught by Horst was the worst thing she could imagine. Frozen, she watched him, pulling ever so carefully until the board came free. He put it aside and reached his short arm deep beneath the floor, grunting quietly with the effort. Then he pulled out a black box, about the size of a shoe box, but made of metal.

At least Miri thought it was made of metal. It had a shiny surface, but she couldn’t see very well in the dim light. She stared at Horst, first squinting and then opening her eyes wide, trying to force them to see clearly. Horst fumbled in his pocket for something—a key, she guessed—and unlocked the box. It was so still in the barn that she could hear the click of the lock turning. Horst gave a little wheeze of pleasure as he looked at the box’s contents—and Miri gave a soft huff of impatience. If only she could see. She squeezed her eyes into slivers and caught the quick gleam of something like glass—or jewels!

This was what Molly had been talking about: Horst’s secret stash. And it looked like she had been right about him being a thief. Why else would he be keeping jewels hidden in the barn? Assuming they actually were jewels. If only she could see better! Miri wiggled with frustration and strained forward on her stomach to get a better view.

As she did so, a hard lump in her pocket pressed painfully into her thigh. Ow. She reached into the pocket, and her fingers touched the familiar frames of her glasses. The ones that Ray had broken that afternoon.

Silently, she pulled them out for inspection. One frame was bent and the glass had cracked across one lens, but they’d work well enough to let her see what Horst was hiding. She had to press her hand over her mouth to keep from giggling. Wait till I tell Molly, she thought, slipping the bent arms over her ears. She closed one eye and, with the other, looked through the unbroken lens.

A cold wind blew through the cracks in the barn roof, and the rough boards of the barn seemed to wobble and bend. “Oh no!” cried Miri, wildly pulling off her glasses and hurling them away. “Not now!” She could just make out Horst’s face, startled, looking up, before he seemed to melt like wax, and she was being pulled up, up, through the center of time, while the barn and Horst and the wavering shadows fell away behind her.

• • •

“No!” Frantically, Miri rolled over and began to claw at the earth beneath her, as though she could dig herself back in time. “No, no,
no
. . .” Her voice trailed off as she realized how ridiculous her efforts were. Ridiculous. She sat back on her knees and sobbed with frustration and misery. She couldn’t leave
now.
Not yet, not without Molly. Molly would think Miri had abandoned her. Molly would be all alone again, alone in the world with her rotten aunt—and Horst.

Miri sucked her breath in sharply. Horst. He wasn’t just creepy and mean; he was a criminal, a real-life criminal. Miri groaned. Molly had no idea how dangerous her situation was, and there was no way Miri could tell her. “Don’t mess with Horst,” she whispered. Miri pictured Molly lying in her little white bed, waiting to sneak out to the barn, and she tried to send a telepathic message through time:
Stay
where you are.

Wiping away the tears on her cheeks, Miri lay down on a damp clump of weeds and looked at the starry night sky above her. She was home. She was back in her very own time, in her very own backyard. A few hours ago, it was all she had wanted. But now everything was different. It wasn’t right without Molly. It’s like when Mom gets sick, Miri thought. Something’s missing; something isn’t right. She sighed and glanced toward the leggy black shadows of the blackberry branches jutting into the sky. They marked the spot where the far end of the barn had been. At least, Miri reflected, the magic hadn’t dropped her from the height of the loft to the ground. The fall would have broken one of her legs, probably both.

But maybe I didn’t fall down, she thought. Maybe I was pushed up. That was what it had felt like. Slowly, Miri got to her feet and brushed off her dress. Oops. The magic hadn’t taken such good care of her glasses—they lay where she had flung them, and now
both
lenses were cracked clean across. Miri plucked them from the dust and peered at them in the moonlight. They looked like ordinary broken glasses. How could they send her through time?