The Unseen (18 page)

I
T WAS
C
LARA
who drove Xandra to the doctor's office. Henry himself was going to take her, but when Clara offered to do it, he quickly accepted. “Could you?” he said to Clara. “There's an important meeting this morning and there's a huge amount of due diligence that will need to be done beforehand.”

Xandra wasn't sure what due diligence was, but it was obviously a lot more urgent than a broken leg. Particularly if the broken leg was no more than what a certain person deserved for running away and getting her leg broken and taking all the Hobsons' minds off more important things. That wasn't exactly what Henry said but it was pretty obvious that was what he was thinking. And what he went on thinking and hinting about while he carried Xandra out to Clara's car.

But at least Henry didn't ask any more questions about exactly where Xandra had been all night and what had happened there—questions that Xandra wasn't anywhere near being able to deal with as yet. And which she felt certain Clara would insist on asking as soon as they were in the car. But, to her surprise, it didn't happen. Clara only asked if she was ready to talk about it, and when Xandra shook her head, she didn't say anything more.

According to Dr. Frank, the ankle wasn't broken. Dr. Frank, who, for years and years, had treated everyone in the Hobson family for things like stomach upsets and sore throats, said it was only a bad sprain. He also said all the usual things about the talented and beautiful Hobsons, and then looked at Xandra as if he were thinking, “So where'd they find you, kid?” After he'd rewrapped her ankle in a kind of removable cast, he brought out some crutches and had her try them out for size. “There you are, young lady,” he said cheerfully. “Wrap that ankle in an ice pack for the rest of the day, and then with just a few more days at home with your foot up, maybe even by Thursday or Friday of next week, you should be able to go back to school. That is, if you use the crutches and promise not to try to walk on that bum foot for a couple of weeks.”

Xandra was in no mood for cheerfulness. “Why can't I go back right away? I'll bet I can walk on those things right now.” Grabbing the crutches away from Clara, and struggling to stand on her one good leg, she went on, “See? Just watch me.” She made a good job of it too, keeping her balance on one leg without too much difficulty and swinging forward on the crutches, but the stubborn man wouldn't say yes. Instead he just laughed and told Clara he was
pleased to know at least one student who seemed to hate the thought of missing a single day of school.

Of course Xandra couldn't tell him that it wasn't getting back to school that was so life-and-death important, but that seeing Belinda as soon as possible might be. Seeing Belinda to tell her what had happened in the forest and to ask some questions that had suddenly become much more urgent. So there was nothing more she could say, and the verdict was in. It would be several days, maybe even a week, before she would have a chance to talk to Belinda.

After making another appointment, Clara took Xandra home—but only as far as the lower floor of the house. Xandra very much wanted to go to her own room but Clara said, “I don't think I can carry you the way I used to, darling, so I guess you'll just have to wait until your father or one of your big brothers shows up. I'll just run up and get some of your things and then I'll help you clean up a little in the guest bathroom. Then I'll fix you a place in the family room where you can sit with your leg up and wrapped in an ice pack.”

The family room. All day. Xandra hated the idea but at the moment she was just too tired to argue or even complain. “There now, baby.” Clara looked worried as she arranged a stack of books and the TV remote on the lamp stand next to Xandra's chair. “I'm going to have to leave now. I have to go to the dentist and then run a few errands. I've left a nice lunch for you in the breakfast room and Geraldine will bring you a fresh ice pack when she comes in. Do you think you'll be all right by yourself for a little while? Otto will be mulching the flower beds all afternoon,
and Mildred from the cleaning service is due around one o'clock.”

Xandra shrugged and said she didn't need anyone, especially not Mildred, and she'd be
okay
. A grudging okay, which probably made Clara feel even more guilty about going off and leaving her “baby” all alone. Her
ex-
baby, actually. But since she went ahead and left anyway, maybe not quite guilty enough.

So there she was, with a stack of books and the TV remote within easy reach, right in front of the big-screen TV, with nobody else around to decide what they were going to watch. For a few minutes it seemed like an interesting opportunity, but after flipping through the channels, she decided that she just wasn't in the TV mood. The crutches were close by, leaning against the footstool, and around noon Xandra used them for a trip to the breakfast room for lunch, but that was as far as she managed to get.

It was an amazingly long day, with nothing to do but doze off into sleeping nightmares and then wake up to wide-awake ones. To suddenly come back to the daytime world and sit staring into space as she went back over everything that had happened during that horrible night in the forest. Over and over again she brought back what she had done with the Key and how it had allowed the monsters to attack her, except when she was in the white bird's meadow, where the creatures of the Unseen were warm and friendly. The rest of the morning and all afternoon the dreams, sleeping and wide awake, went on and on.

The memory was so sharp and clear that she could feel the itchy tingle where the bites had been, and when she concentrated, she could bring back the soft warmth of
those other creatures in the clearing. But what wasn't clear was why any of it had happened and what it meant. How could the feather, which should have been a reward for rescuing the white bird, be the cause of such a horrible experience? And what exactly had Belinda meant when she talked about the Unseen as reflections or mirrors? She knew those were questions only Belinda and the grandfather could answer. And knowing how long it would be before she could even begin to get an answer was terribly frustrating.

After what felt like the longest day of her life, the rest of the Hobsons began to come home from school, and all of them seemed to feel that it was necessary to come in to stare at Xandra and ask all sorts of questions. Of course Gussie came the minute Clara brought her home from kindergarten. Bouncing into the room and dropping an armload of picture books, she was full of questions that tumbled out of her mouth one after the other. Xandra couldn't have answered them all even if she wanted to, which she didn't.

“Xannie,” Gussie shrieked, rushing up to throw her arms around Xandra, causing her to lose her place in the book she was reading—or at least pretending to read. “They let you come home. I was afraid you'd be in the hospital for a long time. How is your …” And then, seeing the ice pack, “What's that on your leg? Oh, it's cold. Why are they freezing your leg? Does a broken leg feel better when it's frozen?” She noticed the crutches then and grabbed them and stood on tiptoe, trying to make them fit. “Will you have to walk on these now?” And when Xandra nodded,
“Oh, you will? Always and forever? Will you have to walk on these forever and ever?”

Xandra had pretty much given up on answering when Clara came in, carrying her purse and a bag of groceries. “Come with me, Augusta,” she said. “Don't make a nuisance of yourself. Let Alexandra rest.”

“Oh, I'm not being a nuisance,” Gussie said, dropping the crutches so that one of them just missed falling on Xandra's wounded leg. “I just want to help Xandra get well. Can't I help you, Xannie? I know what I can do. I can read to you.” Grabbing one of her books, Gussie was opening it when Xandra had a better idea. Since Gussie had a reading vocabulary of about a dozen words, a better idea wasn't too hard to come up with.

“I know what you can do for me,” Xandra said. “You can go get me something. Okay?”

“Yes, yes. Okay.” Gussie was quivering with enthusiasm. “I'll go get you something. What can I get?”

What could Gussie get that might take a long time to find? Xandra thought quickly and came up with “I want one of the animals off my bed. I want …I want …” (A long pause while she sifted through possibilities, looking for something small and hard to find.) “I know. I want my littlest teddy bear. The little tiny one about as big as this.” She held up a forefinger and thumb, thinking that finding that particular bear among forty-six other animals might keep Gussie busy for quite a long time.

Gussie stared big-eyed. “But you said that if I ever touched one of your animals again you'd—”

Glancing at Clara, Xandra interrupted quickly. “Never
mind what I said. I've changed my mind. You just go find that little bear and bring it here. Okay?”

After Gussie charged happily out of the room, Clara asked if there was anything Xandra wanted from the kitchen. “I'm on my way there right now,” she said, indicating the bag she was carrying. “A bit of last-minute shopping for Geraldine. She's planning a rather special meal tonight, I think.”

“Special?” Xandra asked.

Clara's big smile spread across her face. “In honor of the whole family being able to sit down to dinner at the same time. It's been a while, hasn't it?”

Xandra said she guessed it had been.

Turning to go, Clara stopped long enough to ask, “Or would it be easier for you to have your dinner in your room?”

And without any hesitation Xandra said, “No. I'll eat in the dining room.”

Clara left then, and as Xandra watched her go, she was suddenly aware of a fluttering warmth where the feather hung against her chest. Pulling it out, she ran its soft, delicate strength across her hands, closed the fingers of her right hand tightly around it and held it there. But that was all. She did not go on to press it against her forehead. She would not, would never again, use it to enter the world of the Unseen. She would simply keep it, hold on to it and to the memory of what it could do. It was then that she began to notice something, a faint movement at the very edge of her field of vision. Something small and flickering, like a fanning of feathers or a scurry of soft, furry feet. But then the quiver of motion was gone, and although she tried to
bring it back, it refused to reappear. She was left alone to think and wonder.

More time—quite a lot of time during which Xandra slept more than she read—passed before Gussie finally returned carrying the teddy bear. Clutching the tiny bear in both hands, she was full of talk about how hard it had been to find. Xandra had been sure it would be. Sure that Gussie would not only have had to dig through forty-seven stuffed animals, but that she also would have had to stop to admire and maybe even to play a little with almost every one of the fascinating creatures that she'd never before been given permission to touch.

Xandra took the bear from Gussie, and after demonstrating how it could be made to stand on its hind feet, she began to make up a story about how she had seen the bear in a store and really liked it but didn't have enough money to buy it. “And when I started to leave,” she told a wide-eyed Gussie, “I looked back and saw him running along the counter toward me.” She made the little bear run down the arm of her chair. “And when it got to the end of the counter, it jumped down to the floor and dodged around other people's feet trying to catch up with me. I could hear it calling for me to come back. So I grabbed it up before it got stepped on and told the clerk to put it on hold for me. I said, ‘Put it in a box with a lid because if you don't, it might run away.’ The clerk looked at me like this….” Xandra made a slack-jawed, goggle-eyed expression. “But I made her find a box with a lid. And the next day I went back and there he was. So I gave the clerk the money and brought him home. He's always very happy to see me.”

Xandra had never made up a story to tell Gussie before
but she liked the unblinking, openmouthed way the kid listened. When Xandra stopped, she said, “Go on, tell me some more. Tell me some more not-true stories. Not-true stories are my favorite kind.”

Xandra was considering another story when some other siblings came in and then quickly went away. This time it was Victoria and then Quincy, who only stayed long enough to learn that the leg wasn't broken before they left, probably to do more important things like playing the piano or feeding fish.

Gussie had gone back upstairs before two more siblings arrived. There they were, both of the Twinsters, in a hurry as usual on their way to change out of their school clothes. Banging through the door, they strutted in, and once again Xandra almost had to agree with the Greek-god thing. To admit that with their bulging football muscles and helmets of curly hair, her Twinster siblings did manage to look a little like Greek gods.

“Hey. So it's not broken after all?” one of them yelled. “So what was all the screaming about, kid?”

Xandra had begun, “Dr. Frank said that sprained ankles hurt worse than—” when the other twin interrupted.

“Hey, how'd you like that stretcher we made out of our jackets? That was pretty cool wasn't it? We learned how to do that last year in first aid class.”