This had the desired effect of prompting Emma to look up. Becky hoped it wasn’t to throw her into a wall again. “A trick?”
“That’s right. It’s not real. There’s no blood here.”
Emma shook her head. “I still see it. Mom’s blood.”
Now Becky understood. The Dragoon had found Emma’s most vulnerable point: her parents. The guilt she had run from for eleven years had now manifested itself as a nightmare from which Emma could not awaken. Becky looked down at the vial again. Lucid Dreaming. Maybe a dream was the only way to end this nightmare.
She risked taking Emma by the shoulders. Emma didn’t try to shake her away, at least not yet. “Emma, listen. You have to trust me. You have to take this potion. It’s the only way.” Emma stared at her, those yellow eyes impossible to read. “Please. I promised your mother I would take care of you. I know I haven’t done the best job of that so far, but you have to do this for me. And for her and your father.”
Emma’s hand reached out slowly. Becky pressed the vial into it. Emma twisted off the cap and then took the teaspoon from Becky. “Two teaspoons?” Emma whispered.
“That’s right. Exactly two.”
“All right.” Becky watched as Emma poured the first tablespoon and then put it into her mouth. Nothing happened. Then she poured the second and drained it—
Becky caught her friend as Emma’s eyes rolled back into her head. Emma sagged into Becky’s arms, already fast asleep. Becky took the vial from her and then waited.
Chapter 23
When she was two, she had first seen Mickey’s Christmas Carol on television. After that she had read the original Dickens book. What they had in common was in both the Ghost of Christmas Past took Scrooge back into his past, where the old version of himself watched the young version of himself.
Unlike Scrooge, Emma had no Ghost of Christmas Past to guide her. She opened her eyes to find herself looking down at her younger self. Herself at eight years old, when the worst crisis in her life was being grounded for breaking her mother’s cherished cat ballerina lamp. Her young self sat beneath the slide of the playground at Parkdale Elementary, where she complained about being grounded to Becky while her older self watched like a ghost.
“I didn’t mean to break it,” Emma said. “It was an accident.”
“She grounded you for it?”
“She thought I was jumping on my bed.”
“Were you?”
“No!”
“That sucks.”
“You shouldn’t say that word.”
Becky rolled her eyes at this; she undoubtedly heard much worse in her mom’s trailer. “So how long did she ground you for?”
“Two weeks. She said we can’t play together during that time.”
“She did?” Becky’s face paled a little at this and even young Emma knew Becky was thinking of all those extra hours in the trailer with her horrible mother.
“She said you can come over and watch TV if you want.”
“Oh. I see. I probably shouldn’t—”
“It’s all right. It’s not your fault I broke the lamp.”
“What’s the big deal about the lamp anyway?”
“Grandma had it when she was a little girl. It’s an heirloom.”
It had always struck Emma as a tacky heirloom, but while her younger self didn’t fully understand the significance, her older self knew the lamp had a lot of sentimental value for Mom. Giving it to Emma had been a rite of passage, a sign Mom thought she was responsible, but she hadn’t been. The ghost of her older self blushed a little at this.
Their discussion stopped as a shadow fell over them. Jimmy Gates was the biggest kid in the third grade because he had been held back for three years in a row due to poor grades. With this size advantage and a bad attitude to go with it, he was the undisputed king of the playground. “What are you doing, Dorky Storky?” he said.
That nickname had come about during a field trip to Emma’s beloved Plaine Museum. She had been standing next to a stuffed stork when Jimmy said, “Hey, dork, that stupid bird looks like you.”
“Storks aren’t stupid,” Emma said.
“You would know, Dorky Storky.” As much as she hadn’t wanted it to, the nickname had stuck with her until high school. She had always hated it because it was partially true. She was gangly and awkward like a stork, especially when they made her play sports in gym class.
As was his custom, Jimmy snatched away the bag containing Emma’s lunch. He rifled through the contents and then made a face. Mom always packed a healthy lunch of a turkey sandwich, carrot sticks, and fruit juice. There were also oatmeal raisin cookies Emma had quickly learned to hide in a pocket so Jimmy wouldn’t see them. He tossed the bag back to Emma. “Shouldn’t you have bugs and fish in there, Dorky Storky?”
When she said nothing to this, he snatched Becky’s lunch from her. Mom packed this as well, so it was the same thing. Again he tossed it back to her. “How do you get so fat eating that shit?” he asked her.
Like Emma, Becky looked down at the ground. She knew better than to stand up to Jimmy. From where she floated, Emma braced for what came next. If Jimmy had simply walked away, everything would have been fine. But he had decided he hadn’t annoyed them enough. His eyes seized upon the book on Emma’s lap, a copy of The Big Bang: New Revelations on Old Science by Dr. Cathy Gerritt, who would give a lecture at the planetarium in a week. Emma had hoped to ask her mother to go, but now that she was grounded, she knew she couldn’t.
Jimmy snatched the book from her. He turned to a picture of Dr. Gerritt on the back. “She’s a nerd like you,” he said. “No wonder you have her book.”
“Give that back!” Emma said. “It’s mine.”
“You really want it back?”
“Yes.”
He grinned evilly and then tore a page from the book. To Emma’s horror, he wadded the page up and swallowed it. “Wait a day and you can have it back.”
Emma stared at him in shock for a moment. Then rage began to build up within her. Her fists clenched and her jaw set. “Give that back. Now,” she said in a level but menacing voice.
“Or what?”
“I’ll tell Mrs. Hooper.”
“Big whoop. I’m not scared of her.” Just to prove this, he ate another page of the book. He must have decided he couldn’t digest the whole book, so he began to tear pages into confetti. He sprinkled these over Emma’s head as if throwing her a ticker tape parade.
Up above, Emma’s ghost urged her younger self not to do anything. A book isn’t worth it. But her younger self couldn’t hear these thoughts. She lunged forward and caught Jimmy by surprise to knock him down.
Back in those days Emma didn’t know anything about fighting. She punched wildly at him, missing more often than not. Taken by surprise, Jimmy didn’t react at first. When he did, he knocked Emma sideways. Her older self tried to grab Jimmy around the neck to make him stop, but her hands went right through.
She could only watch as her younger self lay on her stomach on the ground. As Jimmy got to his feet, Becky launched herself at him. Her sheer bulk was enough to knock him back to the ground. He reacted quicker this time; he grabbed Becky by her ponytail and then slammed her face into a leg of the slide. Becky howled in pain.
“You two are going to get it now,” he growled.
Before he could hit Becky again, Emma took another run at him. This time it was more like a bug hitting a windshield. It did at least distract him enough that Becky could take off to get the teacher. This turned out to be a very smart decision, one that might have saved Emma’s life.
She lay on the ground in a daze as Jimmy turned back to her. As if she weighed nothing, he spun her around and forced her face into the dirt. “Go on, Dorky Storky, eat the bugs.”
She couldn’t breathe; dirt filled her lungs. She flailed around with her hands, until she scratched Jimmy’s face with one hand. He roared at this and then reached to his back pocket.
When she hea
rd the metallic click, she knew it was his switchblade. She and Becky had seen him showing it off to his toadies. A knife was of course against school policies; he could have been expelled if anyone caught him with it. Emma hadn’t turned him in so she wouldn’t risk his vengeance should he find out she had told on him.
She regretted that as she felt the cold steel blade against the side of her head. “I’m going to add this to my collection,” he whispered. The ground muffled her scream as he began to saw away at her hair. Her body went perfectly still as she didn’t want him to cut off her ear or carve out a part of her scalp.
There was no way to know for either young or older Emma what Jimmy might have done after he cut off that pigtail. He might have cut off the other one too for fun. He might have slit her throat with the knife. He might have pressed her face into the dirt until she smothered. He didn’t get a chance to do any of these. Mrs. Hooper came running across the playground along with the janitor. Jimmy at least had the sense not to assault an adult. He dropped the knife and then Becky helped Emma sit up. Emma sagged against her friend and began to sob uncontrollably.
***
She spent the rest of the week at home. She left her bedroom only to use the adjoining bathroom, not even going out for meals. Her parents tried to coax her out, but whenever she thought of emerging from her room, she imagined Jimmy Gates waiting for her with his knife.
“That boy can’t hurt you anymore,” Mom said. “They’ve expelled him from school and he’s going to wind up in juvenile hall.”
“He’w stiw get me,” Emma said. The speech impediment she had spent years to get rid of had reasserted itself.
“Emma, baby, you know what the doctor said. Think hard about what you want to say.”
“I don’t care.”
Mom stroked her hair, what remained of it and said, “You can’t stay in here forever.”
“Can too.”
The next day, Mom came into her bedroom with an envelope. “Your father bought you a gift,” she said. “Go on, open it.”
Emma did and her eyes filled with tears. Not tears of pain or fear, but tears of happiness. Her father had bought tickets to Dr. Gerritt’s lecture at the planetarium. “But you said I was gwounded,” she said.
“Never mind that, baby. I think you’ve learned your lesson.”
“Yes.”
“What do you think?”
The ghost of her older self screamed at her younger self to say no. Stay home, where it was safe. Don’t go into the city. The city is dangerous.
Her younger self couldn’t hear her. She only knew her parents loved her and she didn’t want to disappoint them by saying no. And she really wanted to go, despite everything that had happened. Dr. Gerritt was one of her heroes, a trailblazer for women in science. The chance to meet her was too much for her to resist.
“Ow go,” she said. Above, Emma’s ghost began to cry.
***
Before the big night, Mom took her to the salon. They had done what they could with her hair, but in the end they had cut her hair so short, she looked like a boy. She commented on this to her mother in the car. “You don’t look like a boy,” Mom said. “You look like a very pretty little girl.”
That didn’t stop Emma from obsessively fingering her hair. Her eyes teared up as she thought of how pretty it had looked before, so long and soft. Mom reached over to pat her back. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll grow back.”
Emma’s older self rode in the backseat. She tried to whisper to her younger self that her mother was right. The hair would grow back, but if she went to the planetarium, she would lose something far more valuable. Still her young self didn’t hear her; the little girl focused on her reflection in the mirror.
To offset the short haircut, Mom brought out Emma’s formal pink dress, the one she wore for special occasions. She found a matching bow and managed to fix it in Emma’s hair as well. “No one can mistake you for a boy now,” Mom said.
“Thanks, Mommy.”
Her parents were careful not to tousle her hair as she took their hands to leave the house. Emma sat in the backseat, her older self sitting beside her. “Don’t go!” her older self screamed. When her younger self didn’t listen, she tried her father, but he couldn’t hear her either, nor could Mom.
The planetarium was a couple of blocks from the Plaine Museum. Emma had been there a few times, though it never held the same magic as the other museum. There was no Percival Graves there to give her exclusive access to any of the exhibits; she had to stay behind the velvet ropes like everyone else.
Despite that she was eight years old and tall for her age, Daddy carried her on his shoulders into the planetarium. She was tall enough that she had to bend down not to crack her head on the doorway. Daddy gave the man inside their tickets and the man smiled at her. “What a cute little girl,” he said.
Emma beamed at this, so grateful this man knew she was a girl, not a gross boy. “Thank you,” she said.
Her good feelings lasted until she saw a boy with the same crew cut as Jimmy Gates. It was a bit darker and the boy wasn’t as tall, but this didn’t matter. She still whimpered at the sight of him. Daddy swung her down to cradle in his arms. “Are you all right, kiddo?”
With Daddy so close to her she did feel much safer. Daddy wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. “Yes,” she said.
Mom separated from them. “I’ll be back in a minute. Make sure to get us a good seat.” She winked at Emma and Daddy and then disappeared into the crowd.
The inside of the main exhibit hall for the planetarium was perfectly circular, with rings of seats going all the way up. A podium had been rigged in the center for Dr. Gerritt to use. She wasn’t there yet. Daddy carried Emma all the way to the fourth row of seats, the front row for the general admission tickets.
They sat facing the podium, Mom to one side and Daddy to the other so no one could possibly hurt her. She leaned against her father, grateful for his big, warm body that could keep her safe. She couldn’t hear the ghost of her older self screaming for her to leave now while she still could.
The lights dimmed except for around the podium. Dr. Gerritt came to the stage, a middle-aged woman with brown hair spotted with gray. She adjusted her glasses and then began to speak. The ceiling of the planetarium came to life with artist’s conceptions of the Big Bang and the formation of the universe thereafter.
Young Emma watched this, enthralled not just by the images, but also by Dr. Gerritt’s voice. She had the same passion and love for science Emma did. She had never met anyone like that before. In school her teachers didn’t really care, nor did her classmates. Not even Mr. Graves really cared about science; he was just the janitor. As she listened to Dr. Gerritt, little Emma imagined who she might become when she was an adult.
The presentation lasted for about ninety minutes, after which was a question and answer session. Emma raised her hand and waved it furiously the same way she did in class. Her heart skipped a beat as Dr. Gerritt turned to her and said, “Yes, sweetheart?”
“When you cacuwated the speed of the universe expanding, how did you compensate for the pwesence of dark matter?” she asked.
Dr. Gerritt smiled at this. “That is a very good question, young lady. I see you’ve been doing your homework.” Emma barely listened to the answer, so enraptured that the doctor had complimented her. Mom rubbed Emma’s back to congratulate her.
Once the question and answer period ended, Mom gave Emma a surprise. She had gone to the gift shop and bought a new copy of Dr. Gerritt’s book, the one Jimmy Gates had destroyed. “How about we see if she’ll sign it for you?” Mom said.
“Can we? Oh boy!” She took her mother’s hand and followed her down the rows of seats up to the podium, where Dr. Gerritt chatted with someone else. Emma’s older self continued to scream for them to forget about it, to leave now, before it was too late.
Young Emma of course ignored this. She waited patiently with Mom until Dr. Gerritt had finished talki
ng to the other person. Then the doctor turned to her and smiled. “I remember you,” she said. “That was a very good question you asked. A lot of scientists much older than you didn’t even think of that.”
“They didn’t?”
“Nope,” Dr. Gerritt said. “You must really like science.”
“Yes.”
“Well, if you keep studying and work really hard, someday you’ll be a great scientist.”
“You think so?”
“Yes I do.” She saw the book Emma clutched to her chest and then said, “Did you want me to sign your book?”
“Yes, pwease.”
“I take it you’ve read it.”
“Twee times.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.” Dr. Gerritt scribbled her name and a message: Reach for the stars and all your dreams will come true!
As she handed the book back, Dr. Gerritt said, “You are such a brave little girl. My niece has leukemia and she can’t even get out of bed.”
Emma stared blankly at the doctor while Mom said, “Oh, no, Emma’s not sick. She had an accident with the scissors.”
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I thought—I’m terribly sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Mom said. “Isn’t it, baby?”
Emma nodded, but she couldn’t look the doctor in the eye. She took her mother’s hand, grateful to flee from the auditorium.
***
Young Emma barely held back tears until they got to the car. She was so ugly Dr. Gerritt had thought she was sick. She hunched forward in her seat and sobbed. “Dr. Gerritt didn’t mean anything by that,” Mom said.
“She thought I’m ugwy. She thought I’m sick.”
“Come on, kiddo,” Daddy said. “You’re not sick. You’re perfectly healthy.”
This did little to console Emma. She continued to cry as she said, “I don’t wanna go back to schoow.”
“Emma, you have to go to school. You can’t be a scientist like Dr. Gerritt if you don’t go to school,” Mom said.
“I don’t care. Everyone wiw make fun of me.”
“Oh, baby, don’t worry about that. Your hair will grow back.”
Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call Page 19
