Juliet Dove, Queen of Love

by Bruce Coville

  Strange Messages

  Her spine prickling with fear, Juliet stared at the note, then at Clarice, then at the note again. Finally she said, “What do you mean, Mr. Toe moved your hand?”.

  “He just made it move,” Clarice replied. She held out her hand, as if to demonstrate.

  Before Juliet could ask more, Byron came barreling into the room. “Hey, Jules, you’d better come downstairs. There’s a bunch of guys outside who—” He broke off in midsentence. “You’ve got rats!” He paused, then asked, “Does Mom know? And where’s the cage? You’ve got to have a cage for them.”

  Juliet noticed that this last statement caused Jerome to shudder.

  Byron stepped toward her. “Can I hold one?”

  “Can you keep them a secret?”

  “Sure,” he said, scooping Jerome off Juliet’s shoulder. “But I’m not the one you’ve got to worry about. If you want to keep them secret you probably shouldn’t have told Clarice.”

  “That’s not nice,” said Clarice, sticking out her lower lip.

  “Wow,” said Byron, ignoring her protest and focusing his attention on Jerome. “This guy’s pretty chunky.”

  Jerome glared at him.

  “Where’d you get them, anyway?” continued Byron.

  “I’m taking care of them for someone,” said Juliet, repeating the story she had told Clarice. “It’s just for a little while.”

  “Aren’t you worried Queen Baboo might try to eat them?”

  “Who the heck is Queen Baboo?” demanded Roxanne. Then she gasped and clapped her paws over her snout.

  “Aw, geez, Roxanne,” said Jerome. “Can’t you ever keep your trap shut? Now look what you’ve gone and done!”

  Byron and Clarice stared from Roxanne to Jerome in amazement. An awful silence filled the room. Finally, Byron took a deep breath. Moving slowly and carefully, he put Jerome on the desk, then backed away. “Juliet,” he whispered hoarsely, “did those rats just talk?”

  It was Jerome who answered. Standing on his hind legs, the rat snarled, “Yeah, kid, we talked. We’re both talkers. What about you? You a talker? Or do you know how to keep your mouth shut? I gotta tell ya, that’s probably the smart thing to do under the circumstances!”

  Byron turned to Juliet, his eyes wide with fear. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  “It’s all right,” said Juliet. “I can’t tell you everything that’s going on. I don’t even know what’s going on, completely. But they’re nice rats. Really. They won’t hurt you. Will you?” she added fiercely, turning to glare at Jerome.

  “Not if he don’t get out of line,” said Jerome.

  “Oh, stop, Jerome,” said Roxanne. “What I want to know is, who is Queen Baboo?”

  “She’s a cat,” said Clarice. “She belongs to our sister Margaret. She’s fat. The cat, I mean. Not Margaret.”

  “A cat!” cried Jerome. “You didn’t tell us there was a cat here!”

  “You didn’t ask!” said Juliet. “And I didn’t even think about it until now. She’s not my cat. And it’s not like I called you up and asked you to come over!”

  Byron swallowed hard, then whispered, “Juliet, do you know these rats?”

  “Only a little. We just met.”

  Her brother blinked again. “Things are getting awful weird around here.”

  “Don’t worry, kid,” said Jerome. “You’ll get used to us quick enough.”

  Byron shook his head. “It’s not just you.” He turned to his sister. “I came up to tell you that there’s a whole crowd of boys standing in our front yard.”

  “What are they doing?” asked Juliet.

  “They’re not doing anything. They’re just standing there, staring at the house. I think they’re all from your class.”

  “Oh, brother,” muttered Jerome. “You’d better read those notes, Juliet. Things are getting weird around here.”

  Byron shook his head. “When a talking rat thinks things are getting weird, they must really be getting weird!”

  Juliet sighed. Jerome was right: She had to read the messages. The thing was, she was afraid to find out what they might say.

  “Which one first?” she asked at last.

  “I’d start with the one from Mr. Elives,” said Roxanne. “At least we know who he is!”

  With trembling fingers Juliet reached for the note Jerome had brought, which had rolled up again while they were talking. Across the top of the page, in large letters, were the words “IMPORTANT INFORMATION FOR JULIET DOVE.” Beneath that, in somewhat smaller letters, it said: “Ignore at Your Own Peril.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” said Juliet nervously.

  “Ah, he always writes stuff like that,” said Jerome.

  The handwriting was thin and spidery, and a little shaky. Juliet read on.

  Dear Miss Dove,

  First, let me apologize again for not being able to greet you when you visited my shop. It seems the consequences of that visit, and of my absence, may be even greater than I feared.

  Despite my efforts, I have not yet been able to determine who gave you that piece of jewelry, or why she did so. But that it is dangerous, possibly even treacherous, I have no doubt. That you have already begun to wear it is a matter much to be regretted.

  I do not believe the chain will grow any tighter. However, the fact that you cannot remove the necklace makes it clear you have become trapped in a story. Once that happens you may not turn back without grave consequences. Your only way out now is to go forward. What, exactly, that will mean I am not certain. But you have my word that I am urgently attempting to discover what is behind all this. In the meantime I offer three pieces of advice.

  First: Make a trip to the library. You may find unexpected assistance there.

  Second: The key is in the key. That is, you must find the key to the amulet if you are to free yourself from its hold.

  Third: Do not walk widdershins around your house between midnight and dawn.

  One final note: You may trust Roxanne and Jerome. They are good and faithful rats.

  I deeply regret that you have been placed in this unfortunate situation, and I hope we will be able to rectify it before long. Until we do, I advise you to be wise, wary, and watchful.

  Very truly yours,

  S. H. Elives

  “What the heck does ‘widdershins’ mean?” asked Byron, when Juliet had finished reading the note out loud.

  “Wrong way around,” said Jerome.

  “Or counterclockwise,” added Roxanne.

  Juliet looked at them. “How do you know that?”

  The rats looked at each other and shrugged. “How do we know anything?” said Roxanne, after a moment. “It’s sort of a mystery.”

  “So are these directions,” said Juliet. “I have no idea which way around the house would be the wrong way, much less which way would be counterclockwise.”

  “It’s easy,” said Byron. “If you look at the house from the top, and think of the front door as being twelve, then if you were facing the house, going to the right would be counterclockwise.”

  Juliet made a face. “You are in serious danger of growing up to be a top-notch world-class geek.”

  “It’s my highest ambition.”

  “My advice is not to walk around the house after midnight at all,” said Roxanne. “No matter which direction you go.”

  “That does seem like the best idea,” said Jerome, nodding sagely.

  “Read the other note,” said Byron. “This is getting exciting.”

  “That’s because you’re not the one it’s happening to,” said Juliet.

  “Well, I wish I was!”

  “Oh, you want guys following you around and getting all moony over you?”

  “Not that. But at least it’s sort of an adventure. It’s sure not boring!”

  Juliet shook her head and picked up the note Clarice had given her.

  “Read it aloud,” said Clarice.

  “Don’t you know what
it says?” asked Juliet.

  “I can’t read!” Clarice answered, sounding indignant.

  “But you wrote it.”

  “Did not,” said Clarice, shaking her head. “I told you, Mr. Toe wrote it. I just held the crayon.”

  Juliet shivered, then unfolded the paper. The note, written in the same blue crayon as her name on the outside, said:

  Dear Juliet Dove,

  It is urgent that I speak with you. Please meet me tonight behind your house. I will wait in the same place you saw me last night. Do not come until all are asleep. Until then, let wisdom be your guide.

  —A Friend

  “‘A Friend’?” sputtered Juliet. “What the heck does that mean? Why didn’t she just write her name?”

  “Mr. Toe isn’t a she!” protested Clarice.

  “Well, the person I saw behind the house last night sure was,” said Juliet. She shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about how she got you to write this. But what’s this ‘A Friend’ stuff? Why didn’t she just write her name?”

  “Maybe it’s a secret,” said Roxanne.

  “Maybe she thought it would scare you,” said Jerome.

  “Maybe she’s not really a friend,” said Byron.

  Juliet sighed. “Well, at least this should be interesting.”

  “You mean you’re really going to go out to meet her?” asked Byron. He sounded surprised.

  “I think I have to.”

  “Cool. Can I come, too?”

  Juliet shook her head. “The note says, ‘Do not come until all are asleep.’ You can’t come with me if you’re asleep.”

  “Rats!” said Byron. Then, looking at Roxanne and Jerome, he added quickly, “Sorry.”

  “I should think so!” said Jerome stiffly. He turned to Juliet. “You don’t have to do this alone. Me and Roxanne will come with you. When it says, ‘Do not come until all are asleep,’ I’m pretty sure it means your family members.”

  “Jerome’s right,” said Roxanne. “Trust me, we know about this kind of stuff.”

  “Thanks,” said Juliet. “It’ll be good to have you with me.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m heading for the library.”

  “Not without us you’re not,” said Jerome. “The old man wants us to watch out for you, and that’s what we’re gonna do!”

  “I can’t take a pair of rats into the library with me,” said Juliet.

  “Isn’t that just like humans,” muttered Roxanne in disgust.

  “I’m sure that if all rats were like you and Jerome that rule would be different,” said Juliet.

  “No doubt,” replied Roxanne. “Even so, I would prefer to be judged as an individual, not as a member of a group!”

  “How about if I take you in my backpack?” suggested Juliet, who truly did not want to get into a political discussion with a pair of talking rats.

  “Can you make it comfy?” asked Jerome.

  “And maybe put in a few snacks?” added Roxanne.

  Juliet smiled. “I think we can manage that.”

  Byron and Clarice insisted on coming along, too, of course. Once the rats were settled and the children were ready, they went to the front door. But when Juliet opened it, she cried out in dismay.

  Every boy in her homeroom was gathered there, staring dreamily at the doorway.

  A great cheer went up when they saw her.

  Juliet ducked back into the house and slammed the door behind her.

  EIGHT

  Tales of the Gods

  “What am I going to do?” wailed Juliet. “I can’t go out there with all those boys!”

  “I told you they were there,” said Byron.

  “What is it?” demanded Jerome. “What’s going on?”

  Byron leaned over and put his face close to the backpack. “Mob of boys waiting for Juliet,” he whispered. “We’ve got to take another route.” Straightening up, he said, “Let’s use the back door.”

  Margaret was in the kitchen, scraping up old linoleum, when the three younger Doves came in. “Hey, why don’t you grab a tool and give me a hand?” she asked sweetly.

  “Because Dad’s paying you and he didn’t offer to pay us,” answered Byron immediately. “Besides, we’ve got something else to do right now.” Moving aside some tools that Margaret had stacked in front of the door, he opened it, peered out, then whispered, “The coast is clear!”

  Quickly Juliet and Clarice followed him out the door.

  “Now what?” said Juliet. “We still can’t go out front. Even if we could, I don’t want to take a chance on going the wrong way.”

  “Huh?” asked Byron.

  “You know,” said Juliet. “Widdershins.”

  Byron sighed. “I told you how to figure out which way that is. But it doesn’t matter. We don’t have to go out front. We can go through Arturo’s yard.” Seeing the look on his sister’s face, he added, “Don’t worry—Arturo’s probably in front of our house with the rest of the Venus Harbor love squad.”

  “I don’t know,” said Juliet uneasily. “I don’t remember seeing him there.”

  And, indeed, when they went through the hedge into the Perezes’ backyard, they found Arturo sitting in a lawn chair, staring longingly at their house. He leaped to his feet. “Juliet! Thank goodness you’re here! I’m sorry about last night. I’m sorry about this afternoon. I’m sorry about—”

  “It’s all right!” she said urgently. “Just be quiet for heaven’s sake!”

  “What are you up to?” asked Arturo, lowering his voice.

  “We’re going to the library!” said Clarice happily. “Mr. Toe is coming, too!”

  Arturo gravely bent to shake hands with Mr. Toe, as he always did when Clarice said he was around. Juliet had tried to shake hands with Mr. Toe once, but Clarice had said sharply, “He doesn’t have hands for you. Only for Arturo!”

  Mr. Toe properly acknowledged, Arturo asked, “Do you mind if I come along?”

  Juliet could find no good reason to say no. So Arturo joined them, managing to station himself next to Juliet as they walked. He kept looking at her sideways, until she wanted to smack him one and tell him to stop.

  It’s not his fault, she kept telling herself. It’s not his fault. It’s this darn amulet!

  They had gone three blocks before the other boys figured out where they were and came running up. None of them spoke; they just followed along a few feet behind her. But every time Juliet glanced over her shoulder, she saw that they were staring at her with longing.

  “It’s like a parade,” muttered Byron.

  Juliet wouldn’t have minded, except that about two blocks from the library, they passed Bambi Quilp and Samantha-the-Leech. The girls were on the other side of the street and did not bother Juliet. But she could tell from the expression on their faces that the trail of boys behind her had not gone unnoticed. She was pretty sure that she would suffer for it later.

  The librarian at the main desk looked startled—and a little worried—when they all walked in together. Pretending that she didn’t know the boys were following her, Juliet headed straight for the kids’ section of the library

  The boys trailed silently behind.

  Juliet was surprised to find that Ms. Priest, the woman who had come to dinner the night before, was on duty. Leaving the boys to fend for themselves, Juliet walked quickly up to the desk.

  “Good afternoon, Juliet,” said Ms. Priest. “How nice to see you again.”

  Juliet forced down a sudden wave of shyness. “Nice to see you, too,” she replied. As she spoke, she remembered Ms. Priest’s strange statement of the night before: “I expect we will get to know each other very well in the days to come.” She looked at the librarian more closely. Was it possible she knew something about what was going on?

  “Can I help you with anything?” prompted Ms. Priest.

  “I hope so. I got a message that told me I should come here.”

  “That’s interesting. Who was the message from?”

  “A m
an named Mr. Elives.”

  “Ah. Then it is probably very good that you followed his advice. What did he want you to speak to me about?”

  Juliet paused, then fished the amulet from under her shirt and whispered, “I’m having some trouble with this piece of jewelry.”

  She was slightly startled that she was able to speak of the amulet at all, but figured it must be because, like Roxanne and Jerome, Ms. Priest had some connection to the magic shop.

  The librarian glanced at the pack of boys clustered about ten feet away. “I see,” she murmured. “Goodness, this is a bit of a problem.”

  “I’m supposed to unlock it, I think,” said Juliet. “Only I don’t have the key.”

  “May I study it more closely?”

  Juliet looked from side to side, then whispered, “I can’t take it off!”

  Ms. Priest’s eyes widened. Then, with a nod, she bent her head to examine the amulet. When she looked up again, her face was very serious. “Though we librarians are, in many ways, the keepers of the keys, I know nothing of the key for this strange item. I must do some research, Juliet. It will require books from my own collection—ones we don’t have here in the public library. If I find anything significant, I’ll come by your house with it this evening, if that’s all right with you.”

  Juliet nodded. Then, on impulse, she said, “This Mr. Elives . . . is he a good man?”

  The librarian paused, then smiled. “Yes. Yes, I would say that he is. Somewhat strange, and fairly crotchety. But, overall, a good man. I work with him sometimes. Not always—I have my own path to follow. But on occasion we join forces.”

  “Doing what?” asked Juliet eagerly.

  “Let’s just say that I act as a guide.” Then, clearly ending the conversation, she said, “If I find anything, I will see you later this evening. In the meantime I would advise you to be wise, wary, and watchful.”

  “Thank you,” said Juliet, a little startled by the abrupt way the conversation ended. “I’ll see you then, I hope.”