Vita and the Monsters of Moorhouse

by Jillian Karger

  “He’s looking better,” Mazkin said with a nod toward where Wile rode a few clouds ahead of them. “Not all the way, perhaps, but he looks better off than the rest of us monsters. He has you to thank for that—he was never under Fironella’s control, thanks to you keeping his compass for him. Getting it back may have made him human enough. We’re all too far gone now, but Wile…”

  “What are you saying, Mazkin?” Vita asked him.

  “You could try taking him with you. You might be able to bring him home.”

  “He’d be all right?” Vita asked. She didn’t want Wile turning right back into a monster when they crossed the threshold back into the human world.

  “He’ll have to go under the Crossing Cloak, though,” Mazkin said.

  Vita swallowed hard and thought of the long, silky purple cloak. Surely it was big enough to cover Wile and Melina.

  Standing in front of the stone staircase at the border, the children said their goodbyes. Melina curled around Harper’s neck for a moment and whispered something in his ear. Vita hugged both Pish and Posh around their necks and told them how she would miss them.

  Vita tried to give Rosie and Grover some privacy to say goodbye to their imaginary friends who wouldn’t be coming back with them. Jasmine whispered something in the little girl’s ear, stroking her cheek. Rafe pulled Grover up to sit on his massive shoulder one last time.

  “Good thing we won’t have to go through that,” Vita told Melina, who floated a foot or so above the ground beside her. She was too big to ride around on Vita’s neck now.

  Melina gave her a sad, knowing sort of smile. “You know there’s no way Wile and I will both fit under that cloak, love.”

  Vita tried to argue, thinking back to how the soft fabric of the Crossing Cloak had pooled at her feet. But Melina had grown so much in her transformation from caterpillar to catterfly—it was tough to tell if she would fit under the cloak at all now, much less with Wile along.

  When Vita hugged Dotted-Line Jack, she was pleased to find that her suspicion had been correct: he was no longer the least bit cold. In fact he felt quite pleasantly warm in her arms. She clung to him for a few moments. “I wish you could come with us,” she said in his ear. “You look practically human now. Mazkin said—”

  But Dotted-Line Jack shook his head. “If you’re going to try to take any of us with you, it should be Wile. He actually remembers some of his life. Whereas I forgot mine so long ago—I got sucked too far into my world-building as a kid, then spent too long under Fironella’s control as a monster. Don’t worry about me, Vita; I’ll be fine. And now, thanks to you, the witch won’t be able to control me anymore,” he said, touching the compass around his neck.

  Dotted-Line Jack looked over to where Peebles and Spiral were playing their hopping/rolling game against some nearby tree trunks. Peebles looked the same as always and, like Mazkin, he didn’t have a compass around his neck. As he turned to grin fondly at Dotted-Line Jack, Vita didn’t think the tiny monster seemed to mind.

  “Besides,” Dotted-Line Jack said, “if I left, who would tie Peebs’ shoes?”

  Vita smiled back. “You do have a point there.”

  Dotted-Line Jack turned to Wile and gave him a hug as well. “I’m gonna miss you, buddy. You’re the best friend I ever had.”

  Wile blinked in confusion. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Yes, you are,” Vita said. She gestured toward Posh. “Here, Wile, you take Posh. Mazkin says there’s a chance you’ll be able to get home if you go under the Crossing Cloak.”

  He blinked his red eyes. “I thought you were taking your friend. The cat-dragon.”

  “Catterfly,” Vita replied, her voice breaking.

  “You should leave me behind,” he told her. “I don’t remember you, and my eyes are still all wrong.” He looked to Mazkin, who stood nearby talking to Melina. “What would happen if I’m still too much of a monster and tried to cross into the human world under the Crossing Cloak?”

  “You’d be zapped right back to Droz—er, Lumaria,” the headmonster replied.

  The monster boy blinked at that then shook his head quickly. “See, it might not even work for me,” he said. “So how about you leave me and take your friend?”

  “Get on the green jay, Wile,” Vita told him. When he refused, Vita pushed him onto Posh’s back and ordered the bird up into the air.

  “It’s for your own good, lad,” Posh said in a stern voice as Wile struggled to gain balance on the rising bird’s back.

  Vita approached Melina and hugged her round her middle, something she’d never been able to do when Melina had been just a caterpillar. “I’ll miss you so much. Are you sure you can’t—?”

  “You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t give that boy a chance to get his life back,” Melina told her. “I’ll miss you too, love. But this place will keep me and Harper and the rest of us busy. Someone has to stand up to Fironella after all, and I bet some of those monsters could use a friend.”

  “What about me?” Vita asked. “I need friends too.”

  “You’ve got them, love. Even if Wile doesn’t remember you, he just tried to sacrifice his whole life so I could come with you.”

  Vita looked up to where Wile already stood at the top of the vast steps. She listened for Wile’s music, which she could vaguely hear over the wind. It sounded like the bluesy woman again. She remembered Wile saying you couldn’t throw a cloak over music, and she fervently hoped that was precisely what was about to happen.

  The girl gave Melina one last hug then hopped on Pish’s back. At the top of the stairs she hugged him and his more serious brother around their necks once more. Below she could see Melina flying around over Harper, Mazkin, and Spiral. “Take care of this place for me, you two,” she said.

  “Will do, V,” Pish said, spinning himself in a dizzy circle.

  “I’ll keep an eye on things. On him especially,” Posh said, narrowing his eyes at his clumsy brother.

  Wile gave her an angry look once the two birds had left. “I told you I might not even be able to go with you,” he began.

  “Shut up, Wile,” Vita said, and wiped away her tears.

  After the other children had arrived on their green jays and Mazkin had retrieved the Crossing Cloak from his office, the headmonster led the children back into the Mess Hall and toward the door at the center of the other end of the aisle, the one that was always locked. He unlocked it with the keys around his neck and held it open. “Here you are, children. May I just say it has been a pleasure teaching you all.”

  He spread the cloak like a tablecloth over Wile and held the door open for the children to walk into the long, checker-floored hallway.

  Where Vita expected a room of cushy, gothic furniture, they found a dusty storage room. The velvet curtains were gone as well with nothing in their place—the sunlight was almost blinding even after Lumaria’s brightness. Wile had to twist and scrunch to keep under the cloak as they slid through the piles of boxes. The boxes even trailed onto the spiral staircase in the corner.

  Vita reached to open Moorhouse’s front door. It opened with a squeak, and the four children shuffled out into the building’s littered front yard. Now Vita could hear cars honking and sirens—an ever-present city soundtrack she’d never realized she missed.

  When they reached the gate she felt someone hug her from behind. “Thank you, Tink,” Rosie said. “I’ll miss you.”

  “We’ll find each other out there,” Vita said, turning to give the little girl a proper hug. “We all live around here, right? It shouldn’t be too hard.”

  Rosie and Grover shared a look that Vita couldn’t quite interpret.

  Grover stepped forward and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Vita. Without you I never would have realized the kind of strength I had inside.”

  She grinned at him. “The strength of a knight.”

  Rosie and Grover embraced as well, then Rosie put her hand against the silk of Wile’s cloak. “Good luck
, Coyote,” she said.

  “Thanks, Rosie-Rose,” he replied, his voice muffled under the cloak.

  “Yeah, good luck,” Grover contributed. “Sorry for, uh, treating you like you were crazy.”

  Vita could hear Wile chuckle. “Don’t worry about it, Grove.”

  A loud creak startled the children as the front gate opened.

  “I think it’s time, you guys,” Vita said. “I guess I’ll see you on the other side?”

  “See you on the other side,” Rosie and Grover told her, while Wile remained silent.

  With that, the group marched through the gate together.

  Suddenly there was a flash of white light and Vita was alone on the sidewalk—no cloak, no other children.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  HOME

  Vita looked back and forth on the sidewalk, searching for Rosie or Grover or red-eyed Wile. Soon she heard a voice calling for her, but it was the voice of an adult. A very familiar voice, though one Vita hadn’t heard in so long.

  It was her father, calling her name over and over.

  The girl turned to find her father, Michelle, and Bryan on the opposite corner impatiently waiting for the light to change. They all waved at Vita, even Michelle. Her family wore the same clothes as the day Vita had arrived at Moorhouse, and didn’t look a day older. She caught sight of herself in a car window and saw that she too looked the same. Her wounds from Drozlin were gone, as were the dust and grime from her skin.

  Vita thought she had been gone for months or even years, but now it seemed it had been barely a moment.

  Her father gathered Vita into a hug as soon as he reached her. “You can’t just sneak off like that!” her father scolded. “We were worried, La Dolce,” he added more softly, and stroked her hair.

  She squeezed her father extra tight. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  On the way back to their apartment building, Vita asked to borrow her father’s cell phone and called Jen. No one answered, but Vita left a message and tried to be optimistic. She would tell Jen about Moorhouse. Or perhaps she would write it down—there was an awful lot of story to tell, after all—and show it to her. Then maybe she would understand. Or maybe she wouldn’t.

  Or maybe Jen would never call her back to begin with. In the end, that would be okay too. Because now Vita knew there were kids out there who did understand. Who dreamed of jousting robots and fairy mazes and could feel music the way others felt the wind.

  Back at home she grinned at the sight of her disorderly bedroom, the clothes on the floor and crumpled bits of paper evidence that she had no magical control over this room whatsoever. She drifted to her bookcase and plucked book after book off the shelf, reveling in the word-filled pages. She got the most joy out of paging through the books she’d never read—books teeming with words that were brand new to her.

  One of these books she’d never read was a small paperback. A fairy rested on the grassy ground on the cover in the shade of a daisy, her legs bent and her delicate caramel arms folded over her knees. The Tales of Jasmine and the Floral Labyrinth by Rose May Gerald was printed in purple script at the top.

  Vita stared at the book with wide eyes. The cover was the painting of Jasmine on Rosie’s desk. She flipped to the “About the Author” page. The author, a merry looking elderly woman in a black-and-white photo, was one of the first African American children’s author/illustrators to hit the bestsellers’ list. She had died in 2006.

  Vita leaned against the wall. Did this book serve as proof of Rosie’s existence, or had Vita simply seen the book before and used it to construct a fanciful dream? And if Rosie had made it out of Moorhouse and back into her own time, had Wile and Grover made it back to theirs?

  The next day at school Vita had trouble paying attention. The way Jen avoided her gaze during class made it clear that her lack of response to Vita’s message the night before had not been an accident. And when she marched out to recess with Erica Simmons and the rest of her cronies it removed all doubt.

  Vita remained at her desk for as long as possible, dreading going outside. Jen had been her one ally against her bullies, and now it looked like she was already on her way to becoming one of them.

  Normally Melina would have shown up to make her feel better. Now when Vita searched in her mind where Melina usually resided, she found nothing. She could imagine Melina in all the various forms she’d taken throughout their stay at Moorhouse, could imagine what she might say in a given situation. But it seemed she couldn’t talk to her old friend anymore, not like it had been before.

  Finally Vita rose from her desk and walked down the hallway toward the playground. On her way she heard a piano, and it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.

  Or at least, that she’d heard outside of Moorhouse.

  She rushed toward the music and found herself standing outside the small practice room where bespectacled Mr. Hobbes taught various music classes. Through the window in the door she could see a boy in a blue t-shirt and jeans playing the piano that stood against the wall. At this angle he looked so much like Wile, and the music had a similar feel to his … could it possibly be him?

  She listened to the music for a few moments longer then decided she didn’t care.

  The boy was probably new. Whether he was Wile or not, he was spending his recess playing the piano.

  It seemed he could use a friend too.

  Vita took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

  Acknowledgments

  This story and I have traveled a long and winding road of revisions and rewrites together since July of 2011, and during that time a lot of people have provided insights and advice that helped make it the book it is today. These people (in no particular order) have read over all or part of Vita and the Monsters of Moorhouse in one of its many incarnations, talked over its premise and world with me, and/or offered opinions on my early (terrible) sketches of the story’s monsters: Sarah Hipple, Ben Davis, Ken McVeagh, Siobhan Lockhart, Audrey Wang, Kevin Hinman, Kelly Baker, Mary Taranta, Stephanie Landis, Elaine Broeder, Erin Hennicke, and Andrew Chamings.

  Skye Gillispie Rudawsky and I embarked on many imagination-fueled adventures together as kids, and remain great friends to this day. Growing up, my sister Julie and I bonded over Muppets, claymation, and Miyazaki—all of which greatly influenced this book.

  My mother, Linda Karger, has been a big supporter of Vita and the Monsters of Moorhouse since Day One, and words cannot express how much her faith in this story has meant to me. She also, much like Vita’s mother, helped to foster a love of books and stories in me from an early age. Thanks to both my parents I grew up surrounded by fantastical stories, music, and art, and I am so very grateful for that.

  Again words fail me in trying to describe the impact my boyfriend, Dan DaVeiga, has had on this book over the years. He’s helped to give it shape and purpose, and made me realize what this story was trying to say when I didn’t know myself. I couldn’t imagine an editor better suited to my strengths and weaknesses as a writer, or a more loving and supportive partner in life. The fact that I managed to find both things in the same person makes me feel absurdly lucky.

  If you liked Vita and the Monsters of Moorhouse, you may also enjoy Jillian Karger’s dystopian novel, Viable

  Viable

  The Renaissance Experiment was supposed to unlock human potential so that civilization could be rebuilt after the Epidemic.

  Instead it amplified a person’s existing inclinations. It divided everyone into those that are auditorily inclined (Auds), visually inclined (Vis), or kinesthetically inclined (Kins).

  The Auds took control and now fifty years later the Aud government and the Kins are still at war with the remaining rebel Vis.

  The only real hope is that Dr. Adrionac, the lead scientist of the Renaissance Experiment, can find a way to make everyone equally superhuman in all three areas.

  Every year all the sixteen-year-olds have to take the deadly Renaissance Exam to find the few w
ho are viable subjects for Adrionac’s continued research.

  Baine Lasair is the first Kin Viable in ten years.

  At Adrionac’s lab she’ll be stuck living with Auds who think Kins are their mercenary dogs and Vis traitors who for all she knows could’ve been the ones who killed her parents.

  Each year the Viables are taken to the Renaissance Lab, but none come back.

  Determined to see her boyfriend and younger brother again, Baine plans to be the first.

  Get Viable here:

  https://www.amazon.com/Viable-Renaissance-Experiment-Book-1-ebook/dp/B07B7DBHJ2

  About the Author

  Jillian Karger was born in Ohio but has lived in and around New York City for over a decade. She has had a long string of jobs doing things like writing surveys about British television for Nielsen IAG and researching trivia questions for the game show “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire”. She has done a lot of freelance writing as well for sites like Cracked.com and TopTenz.net.

  Vita and the Monsters of Moorhouse is her second novel.

  Sign up for her email newsletter and get exclusive early access to sneak peeks of upcoming books, additional content including concept art, or contact the author at: www.jilliankarger.com