As he could be. “How—how can I tell?”
“I doubt you can, Noah. But I'm pretty sure I can tell. I shall have to meet her.”
Suddenly he wanted that. “Maybe I can bring her here, at least for an hour.”
“We shall see. But there's a great deal more to it than that.”
“Yes.”
“You go there, and you disappear, literally, from the face of the earth.”
“But I come back, Mom. I just have to see to her, then come back here.”
“I have been tracking you, Noah. How can you vanish as you do?”
“It's a—a special place.”
“And what is it you are wearing on your arm?”
“That's hard to explain. You might not believe it.”
“Try me.”
“It's a brick.”
“It does not look like a brick.”
“I—I reshaped it.”
“Show me.”
Reluctantly, Noah slid the brick off his arm and set it on the table. It immediately reverted to its original form: a reddish brown brick weighing about three and a half pounds.
Mom picked it up and turned it over. “This seems unremarkable to me. If I had not seen it form once you took it from your arm, I would not believe it was ever anything other than a completely ordinary brick.”
“Well, it has three holes on one side,” Noah explained. “And four on the other.”
“I see three on each side.”
Noah took it back. “This side has four.”
“That side has three.”
“You can't see them?”
“I see three holes,” she said with a hint of impatience.
So it was true. An adult could not see the brick for what it was. “This is why it's hard to explain. You can't see what I see.”
“I did see it change from a bracelet to a brick. Have you become a magician?”
“Not exactly, Mom.” Noah held the brick, and focused, stretching it out and bending it around until he had the bracelet back. He put it on. It remained heavy; it had lost the lightness Si had given it. “It's special. I found it out by the gate.”
“Next item,” she said briskly. “I track you by your cell phone. You have it not only to call home in an emergency, but to advise me of your whereabouts. I can use my phone to read your location at any time, as I do that of your siblings. That way I know you are where you are supposed to be, and safe. Until recently.”
He had forgotten about that property of the cell phone. He simply kept it in his pocket and never used it, knowing that it was for emergencies only. “I've been safe, Mom.” He hoped.
“You go into the forest, and then the signals stop,” she continued inexorably. “Only to resume perhaps two hours later, as you return. Worse, they are not always local. Yesterday your phone indicated that you were in New Mexico. Was that a spurious signal?”
Oops! “No, Mom. I was with Si. The girl. She lives there.”
“And how did you get two thousand miles away in an instant?”
“It's complicated, Mom.”
She gave him the brooks-no-evasion look. “Tell me all about it.”
“Mom, I don't think I can. I mean, you wouldn't understand, any more than you do about the brick. You'd think I was making it all up.”
“Noah, I know better. I can't see what you see in the brick, but it is plain that you can do some remarkable things. I am concerned for your welfare, and that of your friend, and I need to know exactly what you are getting into. Is it some secret government project that involves matter transmission to far states?”
“I don't think so. But it may be more secret than that.”
“Just tell me. I promise to believe you, and to tell no one else without your permission. You know I can keep a secret.”
He did know that. There seemed to be no help for it but to tell her. Oddly relieved, he did so. “It started when I found the brick, and noticed the holes....”
She listened without interruption or indication of disbelief.
“...And so now there are four of us,” he concluded. “Me, Si, Jay and Gypsy. And three more to come, probably.”
“I think I must see the Ark.”
“Mom, I don't know if you could get there.”
“When you touched Si, and she used her Bead, you transitioned to New Mexico, and back. Your Brick should function similarly. If I put my hand on your arm and you enter the Ark, I should go with you. Even if I can't see all the holes in it.”
“I guess,” he agreed uncertainly.
“We will go there shortly. Meanwhile I must acquaint you with certain realities that I have shielded you from before.”
“Mom! You—Dad--you're not breaking up?”
She laughed. “Not that bad, son. No, your father is away most of the time because he is working two jobs to try to bring in enough money to keep this family afloat financially. That's why he hardly ever sees you, and why he flops down to sleep almost the moment he comes home. He hates being effectively isolated from his family, but he has no choice. He would toss both jobs in an instant if he could do so without bankrupting us. But he is locked in, as are we all. If effect, we have only enough money for two children. But we have three, and we're not about to sacrifice any one of them to expedience.”
She have him another level look. “That is another reason why I need to know your situation. If you have found a way to become independent of our family so that we no longer have so support you, it would alleviate our financial stress. But we don't want to lose you, and we would continue uncomfortably close to the wire regardless. So I need to comprehend your position completely, to see whether there is anything there for all of us. It the hope stemming from desperation.”
What could he say? He had had no idea it was like this. “I'll take you there, Mom.”
“Now would be a good time.”
They walked together to the tree. She wore an outdoor shirt and jeans and hiking shoes, together with a competent cap, yet still looked completely feminine. Noah was glad to have his mother finally in the picture, but worried that she might not like Si, and/or not find anything in the Ark to help.
They stopped at the maple tree. This was it.
Mom put her hand on his arm, and Noah touched the tree.
And they both stood inside the Ark, in the arrival chamber.
“Si!” Noah called. “I--I brought my mother.”
Si's door slid open. She still wore the blue dress. She stood there, surprised.
“I am Lyris Longstreet, Noah's mother,” Mom said. “Why don't we retire to your room so we can talk privately?”
Noah was a bit surprised to hear her give her formal name, but of course it made sense, because she didn't know Si. To him she would always be Mom.
“Sure, Mrs. Longstreet,” Si agreed faintly.
“We'll be with you in due course,” Mom told Noah, dismissing him. The two went into Si's room and the door slid shut.
Now was the crunch. Mom would take the measure of Si. That could be joy or tragedy, depending on her verdict. Noah's stomach muscles were knotted. It wasn't that he was afraid Mom would let ignorance or prejudice influence her, but that if her verdict were negative, he would know that she was right. She did know best.
“Your mother's here?” Jay asked. He had appeared without Noah noticing.
“She's here. I—I had to let her in. She won't say anything outside. I trust her.”
“You're close?”
“Oh, yes.”
“I envy you. I wish my folks liked me. But they don't; I'm a burden. I'd never tell them about the Ark.”
“I didn't want to, but I had to. Mom's worried about me and Si.”
“What's wrong with Si?”
“Nothing, I hope. Mom will decide.”
Jay shrugged. “Say, last night while I was on my own, I found something. Looked a little like a dirt bike. Can't figure what it's doing here.”
Noah smiled. “I guess you know about dirt.”
“I do. But this is something else, really.”
Jay took him to a storage chamber. Inside were not one, but seven curious machines. They did look a bit like motorcycles, but they lacked wheels.
“Updoc?”
Both of them jumped. It was Gypsy standing behind them. Noah realized that her greeting was a shortened “What's up, doc?” from a cartoon.
“Bikes, maybe,” Jay said.
“Oh, fun! Let me try one.” Gypsy took hold of one and hauled it out onto the main floor. She got on, put her hands on the handlebars, and floated up off the floor while the two boys stared. “Neat!” She accelerated forward.
“She didn't even know we didn't know how to make it go,” Jay said. “I really like that girl.” He hauled out another bike and got on it. “Let's see, the hands must control it.”
Noah got one himself, and together they figured it out: the left hand grip controlled velocity, the right hand direction. Squeeze with the left to go fast or slow or pause in place. Aim the right to go in any direction, including up and down. Very nice bikes.
Gypsy cruised smoothly along to rejoin them. “But what use are they here?” she asked. “We don't have far enough to go around the Ark to need them.”
“They must be for when we get off the Ark,” Jay said.
“We can't take them home,” Noah pointed out.
“There must be somewhere else we don't yet know about,” Gypsy said.
They put the bikes away and returned to the main entry room. There were Lyris and Si, with their arms around each other's waists, tears on their faces. “She'll do,” Mom told Noah.
“Shes the perfect mother,” Si said.
Noah decided not to inquire what they had said to each other. He was immensely relieved that the outcome was positive.
“I wish my mother would hold me like that,” Jay said.
“Come here, Jay,” Lyris said, turning Si loose.
He went to her, and she hugged him. And he dissolved in tears. It seemed that no one had done that in his family.
“My mother died last year,” Gypsy said. “I tried to cover over the void with a carefree attitude, but I think I'm about to fall in now.”
“Come here,” Lyris told her as she turned Jay loose.
Gypsy went to her, and was similarly embraced. And dissolved similarly into tears.
Noah stared. He had known of his mother's enormous empathy, but hadn't realized that the other two children were so vulnerable. But then he had never experienced that kind of void.
Si, now disengaged, came to him. “Don't touch me,” she murmured. Then she put her arms about him and hugged him close. After a moment she spoke again. “Don't move.” Then she took one of his arms and put it around her, followed by the other. He hadn't moved, she had moved him. Finally she lifted her face to his, hers wet with tears. “Don't kiss me,” she said just before she kissed him.
He stood there unmoving, being embraced and kissed, in temporary heaven. He knew it was Mom's effect.
Finally she let him go. “That's how it is, for now.”
“It will do,” he said.
“Now show me around the Ark,” Lyris said.
They did so gladly. Noah had always known that his mother had enormous empathy; in her presence burdens tended to ease and even fade out. He had always thought she was the world's greatest Mom; now he had proof. Si, Gypsy, and Jay lacked real mothers, and that void estranged them from their families. They orbited Mom like planets around a star. Noah felt pride rather than jealousy; for one thing, it justified his bringing her here. No one would second guess him now.
They showed her everything, and she responded appreciatively. He had not before observed her with other children, apart from his siblings who of course didn't count. She really was good at giving each her special attention, and making each feel important. It was a marvelous art that made no headlines and garnered no riches, but was essential for bonding. She would have made a great teacher.
“This is interesting,” Lyris said. “Have you noticed that each porthole orients on a different section of the continent?”
The children looked at each other. No one had noticed.
“Noah's port shows New England at the center, with the rest spreading out beyond,” Lyris continued. “Si's port shows the southwest. Jay's, here, shows the northwest.” She turned to Jay. “I wonder if we could experiment?”
“Sure,” Jay said immediately. His eagerness to please her was almost painfully apparent.
“I suspect your port responds to your rock. See if you can magnify the image. That is, zoom in on the center. Just concentrate on it.”
Jay faced the port and obligingly concentrated. “Wow!” He stepped back.
Lyris glanced through the port, and smiled. “Look.”
Si and Noah took turns looking. The image was now Alaska, too large to include much else.
“Let's see how close you can get,” Lyris suggested.
They stood behind Jay as he focused again. Noah was between Gypsy and Si, and their bodies were touching, but he was careful to remain quite still. The image expanded rapidly, as if they were a meteor heading for a crash. It finally oriented on a large tree. “My contact,” Jay said. “I'd know it anytime.”
They went on to Gypsy's porthole, and she did the same, orienting on the mountains of the state of Georgia, and another large tree, so close it seemed almost touchable. They had learned something new about the portholes.
“I wonder,” Gypsy said thoughtfully.
Lyris looked at her. “Yes?”
“If I went back there, could you see me?”
“Why don't we try it, dear.”
Gypsy held her Bead and touched the outer wall. She vanished.
And appeared in the porthole view, standing beside the trunk of the tree. She waved. Then she touched the tree, and reappeared in the Ark. “Did you see me?”
“We sure did,” Jay said. “You waved.”
“So it's live,” she said, excited. “It really is the world, not a picture."
Impressed almost to the point of awe, they continued the tour.
At one point Noah was walking beside Gypsy. “I miss her awfully, but my mother wasn't perfect, before she died,” Gypsy murmured. “Yours is. I love her. So does Jay.”
He felt oddly complimented. “You're welcome.”
“Maybe she can be our den mother, or something. We all need her, and so will the children to come.”
“Well, she can't stay here. She has a family to run. And--”
“And?”
“We—we don't have much money. She can't take much time off, or we'll go broke.”
She nodded. “I know how that is. My folks never had enough either. But the Ark is special. Maybe we can find a way to help.”
“I sure don't know how.”
“We'll think about it.”
They left it at that as the tour continued. One thing was certain: Lyris was now a key part of their group. The lone adult member. Noah was pleased.
Rex, Beryl, Solita
They completed the loop back to the entry lobby. And halted.
There was another boy. He was large and lanky, with tousled brown hair, in shaggy clothing, and held some kind of wooden device in one hand. But the main thing was the scar on his face. It started on the left side of his forehead, slanted down between the eyes to take out the bridge of his nose, and pretty well messed up his right cheek. It made him look like a Halloween monster.
Lyris spoke. “Three holes on one side, four on the other?”
“Yes, ma'am,” the boy replied.
“You touched the tree trunk, and here you are.”
“Yes'm.”
“No one likes you because of your scar.”
“Yes'm.”
“What is your name?”
“Rex.”
She took a step forward. “Come here, Rex.”
Rex obeyed.
Lyris enfolded him. He was as tall as she was, but she was e
very inch an adult woman and he a child. “We like you, Rex. We don't care how you look. We have scars of our own, where they don't show. You are now a member of the crew of the Ark, a ship in orbit about the world. You don't have to go home unless you want to.”
He melted. Just like that she had recruited him.
The four other children shared a glance. They all knew how it was. Lyris could not be resisted. She had spoken for them all. She could have been dressed in a gorilla suit, and still held them in thrall.
“Now we will play a game of Questions,” Lyris said. “We will sit on the floor in a circle facing each other. Each of us will introduce him or herself and ask you a question, which you must answer briefly and honestly. Then you will ask the other a question, and have a good answer. When the circle is complete, we will all know each other better.” She sat cross-legged on the floor.
Rex sat opposite her. The others filled in on the sides, Noah and Si to Lyris' left, Jay and Gypsy to her right, completing the circle.
“I will start,” Mom said. “I am Lyris, the mother of the boy on my left, and not part of the crew, because I have no artifact with holes.” She smiled briefly. “My son let me in, and will let me out when I go home, soon. Now my question to you is what do you hold in your hand? Is it your artifact, the one with the holes?”
“No, ma'am,” Rex answered. “It's just a gimcrack. My—my artifact is invisible. I—I got a lot of time to myself, and I make things from wood. They're just maybe toys. Do you want me to show you?”
“Yes, please.”
“I need a board to put it on.”
Mom glanced at Noah. “Can you make a board?”
Noah removed his Block and shaped it into a flat board. He extended it to Rex. It did not revert when he let go of it, maybe because it was his will that guided it rather than just his touch. They could handle each other's Bricks without changing them, when they wanted to do so.
“Thanks.” Rex held the board with one hand, one end lifted a few inches, the other resting on the floor, so that it formed a small ramp. He set his gimcrack on it and let it go. The thing moved down the slope with a peculiar rolling gait, paused, somersaulted, and started over, until it reached the floor. It didn't have legs, exactly, or wheels, and wasn't a robot or a vehicle, yet somehow it traveled. It was hard to see exactly what was happening.
Noah's Brick Page 5
