The Quest for the Kid

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The Quest for the Kid Page 11

by Adrienne Kress


  “I am dressed in my afternoon attire. And I am talking as I talk,” replied the man calmly, but Evie could tell he was getting frustrated with her. His expression reminded her of the one the cook had worn, and the maid before that. The “Stop” expression.

  What she was supposed to stop doing, she had no idea. She was asking what she considered extremely reasonable questions.

  There was suddenly a firm white-gloved hand on her shoulder. It startled her, and she turned to see a very dignified white-haired man wearing a tuxedo.

  “That’s enough. Come with me,” he said. His British accent sounded less forced. “You too, young fellow,” he said to Sebastian.

  “But we…,” started Evie, turning back to look at the Kid. He was still just staring at her. Why was he just staring at her?

  “With me. Now.” He then spoke to the man and woman. “I’m so sorry, m’lord, m’lady. Young street urchins to whom Cook was giving a treat. They slipped away.”

  “Yes, well, make sure to check their pockets before you send them away,” said the woman, looking visibly relieved and extra snooty.

  “Of course, ma’am,” he said with a slight bow of the head. “Come on, children.”

  “Come on, Evie,” said Sebastian with hushed urgency.

  She knew he was looking out for her, but this wasn’t the time to be easygoing. They needed the Kid!

  “Jason! I mean, Charles!” called out Evie, trying to get the Kid to flinch at the very least. To prove he hadn’t suddenly morphed into a wax statue. Of course it would have been nice if he’d run over to help her in this moment, but a blink would have worked too.

  As it was, he did at the very least furrow his brow as Evie and Sebastian were guided away from the man and woman and toward the door leading to the stairs. Once through the door, Evie made to go back into the room, but the man grabbed her. She saw Sebastian with a bewildered expression, lower down on the stairs in front of them. She looked back at the man. Definitely a butler. Or at least dressed as one. It was strange. There was something about him that made her think that maybe he wasn’t being mean to them. That maybe she should ask him for help. “Can you tell me what is going on?”

  “No talking. Come with me,” he ordered instead.

  Those were two things Evie really didn’t feel like doing, but the way he kept throwing her quick looks gave her hope that maybe wherever he was taking them would give her some answers. So she nodded and followed.

  “He’s different, isn’t he?” whispered Sebastian as she came beside him.

  “I think so,” she replied, happy that he’d noticed it too. The man led the kids along the hall to a door. He opened it. It was a broom closet.

  “Wait, what?” said Evie, backing away quickly. She was not about to be locked in a broom closet. That so was not something that she was going to let happen to them.

  “Trust me,” said the man, still sounding very formal but with a pleading expression in his eyes.

  Trust him? That was asking a lot. She didn’t know what was going on. Everyone was acting bizarre, and all her life she’d been warned not to trust strangers. Not to go into a stranger’s car. Not to go into a stranger’s broom closet…

  Then again, she’d already gotten into several strangers’ cars, and some people had been most helpful to her in the past.

  Then again, there were scary men after Sebastian and the Filipendulous Five.

  Then again…

  She felt a shove and fell off balance, stumbling forward into the closet.

  “Hey!” said Sebastian. And then she saw him stumble forward too beside her. She turned around, but the man had entered the closet as well and was closing the door behind him. He pulled a cord above their heads, filling the space with light. Fine. She’d just have to scream.

  “Please don’t scream,” he said with a look of utter distress on his face. “I need your help. We all need your help.”

  “Our help?” said Evie and Sebastian in unison. She was still ready to fight this guy if she had to. No one shoved Evie!

  “Yes. We’re trapped. We can’t leave, see our families. We have no way of getting the message out.” The man seemed terrified, his pale face turning even paler and looking extra wan in the shadows of the single dangling lightbulb above them.

  “I don’t get it,” said Sebastian. “What’s going on here? Where are we? Who are you people?”

  “Why are you all being so strange?” added Evie.

  “We’re all actors,” replied the butler, his voice cracking slightly. “We signed on to this show, Grand Estate, to play certain roles in a 1920s household. I thought it was a great honor to be cast as the head butler, and the pay was excellent. Also, as an actor, an immersive experience like this, well, it seemed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” He was holding tightly on to the lapel of his shirt, his eyes wide and worried.

  “I don’t get it. How are they keeping you here? Are we locked in?” asked Evie, suddenly realizing how much danger she and Sebastian could possibly be in.

  “No, it’s not like that.” He was gripping on to his jacket so tightly that his knuckles were white. He must have seen Evie stare, because he looked at his hand, then back at her, and explained, “It’s my microphone. I don’t want them to hear. There aren’t any cameras in here.”

  “Cameras?” asked Sebastian.

  “Yes, there are hidden cameras everywhere.”

  “Okay. I’m still confused. Can you explain again?” said Evie, trying not to panic. “This is a TV show?”

  “Yes. It’s a reality TV show where we all take on roles on a British grand estate from many years ago. We received handbooks on how our characters would behave, what the head butler, for example, would and wouldn’t do. It’s an experiment. We are filmed all day every day and must stay in character the whole time. We aren’t ever allowed to break character, or we get docked pay. And we aren’t granted any contact ever with our loved ones. On top of that, we don’t even know…” He paused for a moment, glancing around the closet wildly, then leaning in toward them. “We don’t even know,” he whispered, “if we’re actually being aired on television.”

  Evie nodded but couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. It was really hard to know what was true. Though, considering she was currently in a broom closet with a man dressed as an old-fashioned butler in a house with a bunch of people who were dressed similarly and who spoke in British accents and…

  “Wait, is that a fake accent, then?” she asked.

  The man shook his head. “No, I’m actually from England. London. Hammersmith. But the rest of them are American. So, yes, their accents are fake. And…generally terrible. Quite painful to listen to a lot of the time. It feels like an added part of the torture.”

  “Right. Okay,” said Sebastian, doing what appeared to be some internal calculations. “So you’re stuck in this house, is what you’re telling us?” The butler nodded. Sebastian thought some more, and Evie decided it was best to let him think, so she stayed quiet. “Wait,” he said suddenly. “That can’t possibly be true. We were driven here by the K…Jason…uh, Charles. Charles drove us here. He was allowed out. He was buying…snacks. Very not-appropriate-for-the-time-period snacks.”

  “Who’s Charles?” asked the butler.

  “The driver? In the hat?” explained Evie. Did he have a fourth name here? That was one too many names, surely.

  “Oh! Parker. Yes, he’s new. We didn’t have a driver before. Yes, he can leave to pick up odds and ends for the cast. And to drive the actors who are playing the family we are all serving, I suppose. I don’t really know where they go. I’ve been stuck here.”

  “So the rest of you haven’t left since this started?” asked Sebastian.

  “Not really.”

  “Not really?”

  “The maids and under-butlers do go for
occasional strolls.”

  Evie stared at the butler, willing him to see the most obvious conclusion to be drawn here. He didn’t seem to get it. He just stared back at her, possibly willing her to see something he was thinking but that she really didn’t get.

  “If you’re not locked in, if the K…Jaso…Char…Parker can drive away, why don’t you…you know…” She stared at him even harder, her eyeballs practically popping out across the closet. “Leave!”

  “Oh no, we can’t do that,” he said, sounding quite affronted by the suggestion.

  “Why not?” She looked closely to see if maybe he was wearing the kind of shock collar that dogs wore sometimes when their owners had invisible fences, so that if the dog stepped beyond the line, the collar would give the dog a mild electric zap. Always seemed a mean idea to her. But maybe the cast wore them? It was hard to tell, really. The butler’s button-down shirt and tie were very tight and hid his throat.

  “Because we’re not allowed to.”

  Really? That was it?

  “I don’t get it,” said Sebastian, perfectly articulating her thoughts.

  “We’re not allowed to leave.”

  “But if you’re being kept against your will,” Evie replied, “surely leaving, even if they don’t want you to, is a reasonable thing to do.” She glanced at Sebastian. The actors’ situation seemed to be a bit like how he used to be when she’d first met him. He’d been afraid of breaking the rules, even if the rules had been unreasonable. But he was different now. He was clearly as confused by all this as she was. Which was kind of awesome. She was proud of him.

  “Oh no, we can’t break the contract. We signed it!” The butler was staring at her now as if she was crazy, and still Evie didn’t get it.

  “Why can’t you break it?”

  “It’s a really solid contract. No loopholes. Trust me. I checked.”

  Evie stared at him blankly.

  “What?” he asked.

  “It’s a piece of paper.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s not chains or bars. It can be burned. Or torn apart. It’s a piece of…paper.”

  “I know a contract is made of paper, yes,” the butler said slowly, still utterly confused.

  “You can…I mean, what’s the worst thing that happens if you break the contract?”

  Evie was not prepared for the emotional reaction the question caused. The butler staggered backward (as far as was possible in the small space) and fell against the wall. His left hand still covered the microphone, but he brought his right up to his heart. And he gasped, loudly and full of air and utter horror. Like he’d seen a ghost. Or like she’d told him she didn’t actually watch television that much and preferred the outdoors.

  Wow. Actors were dramatic.

  He seemed incapable of speaking, just standing there as if he was about to faint.

  “Well, I mean, maybe I can answer that one?” said Sebastian, looking first at the man and then at Evie. She couldn’t help but smile. Of course he could.

  “The worst thing would probably be that he’d be sued for breaking the contract,” said Sebastian. “And from what I understand, most actors, unless they are famous, don’t make a lot of money. He could go broke.” Evie nodded. She supposed that was true. “Aside from that, there’s probably a professional concern too. Reputation matters with work, and I’m assuming that people wouldn’t want to hire an actor who breaks contracts.” Sebastian looked over at the butler. “Did I get that right?”

  The butler nodded, still in a fluster but seeming a bit calmer. “Exactly. It’s as you said. I would probably never work in this town again. It would mean the end of a dream, one I’ve had since I was younger than you are now. I’d go back across the pond—that’s a term for the Atlantic Ocean, but in a poetic sort of irony, since it’s so huge and you call it something small,” he explained.

  “Ah, okay, that’s kind of cute,” agreed Evie.

  “Going back across the pond,” he continued, “to my family, my friends. Admitting defeat. Failure. Abject horrible failure.”

  If it hadn’t been so over-the-top and kind of sad, Evie would have applauded the performance.

  “Look, I just can’t do it. You have to help me—help all of us—get out of here.”

  Evie didn’t know what to say. Of course she wanted to help. Mostly for selfish reasons, really. If what this strange butler actor fellow was saying was true, it meant that everyone here was in trouble, and that included the Kid.

  “How, though?” asked Sebastian.

  “I don’t know. If I knew, I’d have done it. I’ve risked too much going off camera like this. I have to return to my post. Please help us. Thank you!” And he darted out of the closet before either of them even had a chance to protest.

  They both stood there for a moment, alone in the quiet.

  “Well,” said Sebastian finally. “What do we do?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Evie. “I think if we help him, we can free the Kid.”

  Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, that seems to be the case. But honestly, right now we have to get back to the society. We can problem-solve there.”

  “Yeah, I agree,” replied Evie.

  “Let’s go back to the garage, and then I honestly don’t know what, but figure out what to do next there.”

  Evie nodded. It wasn’t exactly a plan, but they had to do something. They couldn’t stay in a closet all day.

  With a deep breath she opened the door, and, as casually as they both could, they stepped out of the closet and made their way down the hall. Everyone was still giving them side-eye, but she understood better now. They were scared. They were confused. They’d probably been pretending to be old-fashioned for a bit too long now.

  Eventually Evie and Sebastian found their way outside to the small courtyard. She looked around, trying to get some sense of where this house was, if there was a road nearby that would lead them back toward the modern era, with phones and taxis. But the walls were high, and she could only see directly above her, to the sky.

  “What did you think you were doing?” asked a now familiar voice.

  Evie turned around, feeling a surge of hope. “Jason!” she said.

  The Kid came up to them and made a gesture for them to follow him into the garage. They did, and then he opened up the door to the old-fashioned-looking car and made another gesture for them to get in. Which, of course, they both did.

  They sat squished in side by side in the front seats. Evie felt something rub against her foot, and jumped. Then she realized. “Orson,” she said with a laugh, giving the dog a scratch behind his ears.

  “Shhh,” said the Kid. He glanced around one last time and then placed his hand on his left jacket lapel, just like the butler had, blocking the microphone.

  “Can I talk now?” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “We’re sorry we followed you into the house, but we needed to know what was going on. We need you, Jason. We weren’t kidding earlier. We need your part of the map, before the men in black get to you. And more important, we need your help with the rescue mission,” she said.

  “My part of the map?” he asked.

  “To the waterfall. That man who was chasing us, he’s one of three, and they’re after the map. We think they want revenge on my grandfather because he banned them from the society,” said Evie, her voice getting higher and higher. “And even more than that, they have my grandfather, and he’s asked for the team to get back together to help him! We have to save him, and time is going by so fast.” Time was going by almost as fast as her words were now falling out of her mouth.

  “Who is your grandfather, and what does he have to do with the team?” asked the Kid.

  Oh right. This had happened before, with the board at the other Explorers Society. “He’s Alistair.�


  The Kid stared at her. For a long moment. Then he looked carefully at his left hand. She wasn’t really sure what he was doing. “I’ll be honest with you, Alistair’s granddaughter.”

  “Evie.”

  “And Evie’s friend,” the Kid added.

  “Sebastian,” said Sebastian.

  “I’m…scared.” He laughed a bit and took off his hat, then ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes briefly.

  “You’re scared?” she asked. Aha! It was true; he was in danger. “How can we help? Is your life being threatened?”

  The Kid stared at her for a moment, and then laughed a sad laugh. “Oh no, not like that. I’m not in danger here or anything. Thank you, though. You are sweet. No.” He was quiet and then sighed. “I’ve faced my own death, a lot, and I got a thrill out of it. But something changed. Hanging off that cliff…”

  “Cliff?” asked Sebastian, pulling the whining Orson up into his lap.

  “It was a stunt that went wrong. After that, something just changed. I was really scared when I was hanging. I was scared that I was going to die. And being scared scared me. Because no matter what I’ve faced, I always knew I’d get out of it. The rush. The adrenaline. That was fun. But I never asked myself ‘What if?’ ”

  “Not even back when you were part of the Filipendulous Five?” asked Evie.

  “I was nineteen then. I thought I was going to live forever.”

  “No one lives forever,” said Sebastian.

  “Exactly,” agreed the Kid.

  They sat silently in the car.

  “Okay,” said Evie once she’d felt enough time had passed for it to not be inappropriate to press her case again. “I understand being scared. I’m scared all the time. I’m scared about the men chasing us. I’m scared about all the dangerous things we have to do, that we’ve already done. And I’m really scared for my grandfather. If he’s okay. If he’s…” Her throat got tight. “If he’s still alive. I’m scared. But that’s kind of the thing. I’m sorry. You seem supercool, and really nice, and very talented, but…you cheated.”

 

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