The Time Thief

by Angela Dorsey

  Chapter 10

  It rained all that night. Mika had never heard rain fall so loud on their tin roof. Normally she liked the sound of the patter above her, but this noise was like thunder.

  Angel was restless too. Despite Mika’s attempts to keep her off her injured paws, she kept leaping from the bed and standing beneath the window, looking up, and meowing. When Mika finally lifted her to the windowsill, the cat stared down into the darkness and growled. Light from the house slid across the lawn, showing the rain streaming through the feeble glow.

  “It’s okay, Angel,” Mika whispered and picked her up. “No one will be out tonight, not even your crazy old owner. Now you need to sleep, okay?”

  A few minutes later, Angel was prowling again, sniffing at the crack beneath the door. Mika retrieved her and held her close until the cat finally curled into a tense ball beside her. Mika couldn’t keep her eyes open a moment longer.

  Joseph stands in his room beside his bed, his eyes shut in sleep.

  Mika woke. What a strange thing to dream about. She put her hand to where Angel had been but felt only the quilt top, still warm. Switching on the light by her bed, she saw the cat sitting on the windowsill again — and the bandages lying on the floor.

  Mika glanced out the window when she retrieved Angel the second time, but all she could see was her own reflection, looking both sleepy and scared at the same time. What was the cat finding so intriguing?

  “There’s nothing out there,” she said, trying to sound confident.

  She pulled the blankets over herself and this time tucked Angel underneath. The cat must have liked the cave-like environment, because this time when she curled up, she seemed more relaxed. Mika slept again.

  Joseph puts on his coat as he stands near the kitchen door. He tugs his wool hat onto his head, then opens the door and walks through. Seconds later, the door shuts behind him, all by itself.

  A banshee yowl reverberated around Mika. Her eyes sprang open and she jerked upright in bed. Early morning light glimmered faintly through the window. The rain continued unabated.

  Angel yowled again as she crouched by the bedroom door, the fur on her back sticking straight up and her tail twice its normal size.

  “Quiet, Angel. You’re going to wake everybody up.”

  Angel scratched at the bottom of the door.

  “You’ll hurt yourself.” Mika flung back her covers and rushed to pick up her cat. However, instead of settling, this time Angel fought Mika’s hold on her.

  “Okay, okay,” Mika said as she lowered Angel back to the floor. “I’ll let you out.”

  There was no light in the hallway. The nightlight must have died. Mika shivered as she pulled back inside her bedroom to turn on her own light. Brightness spilled into the upstairs hall.

  Angel was halfway to Joseph’s room, walking stiff-legged, a low, menacing growl trailing behind her. Mika followed, her heart doing a fearful pit-a-pat. Joseph’s door was open. The cat paused, sniffed, then stepped into the darkness. Before following her, Mika reached inside and flicked on his light.

  Angel stalked through the scattered toys to jump on Joseph’s bed. She nudged the blankets with her nose, then opened her mouth in a loud wail. In two strides, Mika was at the rumpled covers, jerking them back, to see — nothing!

  Panic jittered through her veins as she raced to her parents’ room. “Mom! Dad!” she yelled through their dark doorway.

  What if they were gone too? The idea was too horrible.

  “What?” said her mom in a sleepy voice.

  “Joseph’s gone!” blurted Mika. “And Angel’s acting weird.”

  “What?” Mom said, much more awake.

  “Joseph’s gone.”

  Mom’s bedside lamp came on and she shook Dad’s shoulder. “Wake up, Henry. Joseph isn’t in his room!” Then she jumped up and followed Mika down the hallway.

  They stopped in Joseph’s doorway and Mom scanned the room. “He can’t have gone far,” she said to Mika, then hurried to the bathroom, glanced inside, and ran on to the twins’ room. Mika followed her.

  When Mom turned on the twin’s light, two tousled heads looked up from their sleep. “No lights,” whined Billy and collapsed back against his pillow.

  Grandma opened the guest room door and leaned out. “What’s wrong?”

  “Is Joseph in your room?” Dad asked, entering the hallway.

  Grandma turned on her light. “No, he’s not.”

  “He must be downstairs,” said Mom.

  Grandma nodded. “Let’s search the rest of the house.”

  Ten minutes later, the entire house had been frantically explored, even inside the closets and under the beds. The adults and Mika met in the kitchen.

  “Would he go outside in this weather?” asked Grandma.

  “Maybe he went out to the car, or he’s hiding in the garage,” Mom suggested and almost ran to the door. She was in the garage when Mika heard her small cry. Mom rushed back into the kitchen. “The door! It’s not locked, and I know I locked it last night!”

  Dad went suddenly pale, but he stepped forward and pulled Mom into his arms. “He probably just wandered out looking for bugs,” he reasoned. “Let’s go check the car and garage.”

  Mika and Grandma followed them into the garage, where it was instantly obvious that Joseph wasn’t there either. And the back door to the garage was wide open.

  Dad walked into the back yard. Instantly, he was soaked. “Joseph! Joseph!”

  Mika held her breath, silently pleading for a reply, but there was nothing to hear but the rain coming down.

  “Joseph!” yelled Mika’s mom, stepping into the torrent behind Dad.

  And suddenly Mika remembered her dreams. Joseph with his eyes shut, standing beside his bed. Joseph putting on his coat and hat, and walking into the garage. And then where? If only the dream had shown her where he went.

  If it meant anything at all; it was just a dream.

  Mika gasped. A dream possibly inspired by the open gate last weekend, when someone might’ve been watching Joseph from the woods. Had he been snatched? Is that why Angel was freaking out, because she’d sensed Joseph was being taken as the family slept?

  And all Mika had needed to do was be nervous enough about the dream to go check his room, then see the intruder and yell for help.

  But she hadn’t done any of that.

  Dizziness made her clutch the edge of the open door to the backyard. If something bad happened to Joseph, it would be her fault. She could have stopped it.

  “Come sit down, Mika.” Grandma’s kind, steady voice was like a life preserver, then soft arms were around her. Grandma directed her to Dad’s big toolbox, and gratefully Mika sat down.

  “I had a dream, Grandma.”

  But Grandma wasn’t looking at her, or at least not at her face. She was looking at Mika’s hand — and the smear of wet pink paint.

  Slowly, Mika raised her hand to her eyes. Her mouth dropped open.

  She knew this colour.

  “The door. I touched the back of the door.” She rushed to the doorway and swung the door shut. Pink words glared back at her.

  “‘Today is the day,’” Grandma read aloud. “What does that mean?”

  Mika could hardly breathe. “Last night we met Angel’s old owner on the road. She told us that if we didn’t give back what was hers, that tomorrow was the day we’d be begging her to take Angel back.” Dizziness buzzed through her head again, making her feel sick, and she leaned against Grandma. “And now tomorrow is today.”

  Grandma called Mom and Dad back into the garage. Dad’s face blanched when he saw the pink writing. “She kidnapped him. For a cat? She’s insane.”

  “Joseph, kidnapped?” Mom asked weakly.

  Dad quickly explained, then added, “I’m phoning the police.”

  By the time Dad hung up the phone, he was shaking. “They’ll be here as soon as they can.” He joined them at the kitchen table, sat, and put his head in his hands.r />
  “We should go to the abandoned house,” said Mika.

  “What?”

  “The lady who hurt Angel and threatened us, she’s staying at the old abandoned house down the road.”

  Dad looked skeptical. “I’ve never seen any lights or activity there.”

  “That’s where Angel was both times I found her.” Mika looked down at the table. She had to tell them the truth. “She wasn’t in the woods like I said. She was inside the house.”

  Mika’s dad jumped up. His chair fell over backward as he strode toward the door. “I’m going over there.”

  “Wait, Henry,” said Grandma. “The police will be here soon. They should go with you. You’ll be a lot safer, and so will Joseph if he’s there.”

  “I can’t wait. Joseph needs me.”

  “I’m going too,” said Mom.

  “Me too,” added Mika. She had to do something to make up for failing Joseph.

  “No, Mika. Not you.”

  Mika turned back to Grandma. Her elderly face was creased in concern.

  “She’s right,” Mom said.

  Mika spun to face her parents. “No! I’m not staying. If you don’t take me, I’ll just run over after you leave.” She stamped her foot, then blushed. What was she? Five years old? “Mom, Dad,” she said in a calmer voice. “I have to go. This whole thing is my fault. Don’t you see? I could’ve listened to Angel last night when she was acting weird and gone to check that everything was okay.”

  “This wasn’t your fault, honey,” said Mom.

  “And I was the one who took Angel from her house, not once, but twice,” Mika added. “Maybe it was the right thing to do, but still, if I hadn’t done it, Joseph would still be here.” She wrung her hands as she continued. “And I’ll be safe with you there.”

  Mom hesitated, then nodded.

  “Okay,” said Dad. “But you don’t come inside unless we tell you to.”

  “Okay.” Mika turned back to Grandma. “Sorry, Grandma.”

  Grandma gave her a hug. “You just be careful now. And don’t you worry about the twins or Angel. I’ll make sure everyone here is fine.”

  Mika tried to smile. If only she could have protected poor Joseph the same way. How frightened he must be!

  God, please let Joseph be okay, Mika prayed during the short drive to the abandoned house.

  The old building looked dismal in the early light. Rain streaked its weathered sides and glazed its windows, making it look more vacant than ever. Mika stayed in the car with the doors locked while her parents knocked on the front door. Dad called out, but there was no response. Then Mom grabbed the doorknob and shoved the door open. Mika shivered as a slice of the entrance hall became visible. The room looked as threatening as ever. Dad stepped inside and Mom followed him.

  Three agonizing minutes dragged past before Mom came to the door and motioned to Mika to come inside.

  As she stepped inside the entrance hall, Mika couldn’t stop her eyes from travelling to the darkness on the stairs. “Did you find him?”

  “We haven’t looked in every room yet, but we’re pretty sure his kidnapper isn’t here. The place looks completely deserted,” said Mom. “We were wondering where you found Angel.”

  “In here.” Mika turned toward the living room just as Dad walked out. He was shaking his head.

  “I don’t know what to think. I looked behind, just in case there’s a hidden compartment, but there’s just a wall.”

  “You looked behind what?”

  “Come and see. Maybe you can figure it out.”

  Mika walked into the room, Mom right behind her, and looked to where Dad pointed. At the painting.

  A sick rush of horror engulfed Mika and for a moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

  The painting still mirrored the couch across the room, but that was all. There was no dog lying in front of it. No woman seated there, wearing old-fashioned clothing. The gold label below still glinted brightly despite the room’s dim light, mocking her with its words: Lucinda, Hunter, and Cloud.

  Mom asked her a question, but her voice seemed far away.

  How could the portrait be empty? It didn’t make sense.

  And then suddenly it did. With dawning horror, Mika understood that Angel was the missing Cloud. The black dog that stalked Angel, that glared at Mika through the car window with its amber eyes, was the dog named Hunter.

  Angel’s owner was Lucinda.

  And they had, all three, come out of this painting.

  Chapter 11

  Dad touched Mika’s arm and she jumped.

  He looked at her with questioning eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  Mika’s gaze jerked back to the painting.

  Aimee said the people who’d lived here disappeared suddenly. Was this why? Had dark magic trapped Lucinda in the painting, while everyone thought she’d taken off somewhere? And now, years later, the spell was finally wearing off?

  But who would do such a thing, especially to Angel? There was no reason to lock her away; she was a total sweetheart.

  However, Lucinda certainly wasn’t. Mika had felt it the first time she’d seen the woman. She almost gagged as she remembered the malice and hatred in the eyes that had followed her around this room. No wonder Angel was so desperate to get away from this hideous place. Maybe she’d been the first released by the painting because she was the smallest — and she’d known that as soon as Lucinda and Hunter were free of their painted prison, her chance of escape would be gone. So she’d called for help.

  “Mika, didn’t you hear me?” Dad’s voice penetrated her fog of horror.

  “Sorry, Dad,” she somehow choked out. “Yeah, this is a weird painting.”

  Dad looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “Maybe you should wait in the car.”

  “No, I’m fine. Really. It’s just such a creepy painting. That’s all,” Mika babbled. Should she tell them? Would they believe her?

  “Let’s check the rest of the house quick,” said Mom. “The police will be at our place soon.”

  “There’s just the upstairs left,” said Dad.

  Mika couldn’t leave the living room fast enough, and yet despite her best intentions, she paused at the bottom of the stairs. Mom patted her on the shoulder as she and Dad passed her and started upward.

  They’re just normal stairs. Don’t be stupid, she told herself. Her self-rebuke made no difference. Even looking at the stairs filled her with dread. What would climbing them be like, or worse, getting to the top?

  But she couldn’t stay down here by herself — or let her parents go alone either.

  It took all her courage to move her foot to the first step. The dread grew stronger. Mika forced herself to take another step and another and another. Mom hesitated above her, as if she too had to steel herself to continue, and when she finally did, Mika forced herself to continue as well.

  Finally, they were at the top, and looking through the first door to the right. Just furniture.

  “Look under the bed and I’ll check the closet,” Mom said to Dad.

  Mika waited for them in the doorway, then they all moved on to the next room. Again they found nothing but dusty furniture and linens, forlorn clothes hanging in closets, and spider webs.

  The third room had toys scattered over the floor, dingy toys that hadn’t been played with for a very long time. Mika felt her eyes tear up. For some reason, the abandoned toys seemed more than sad; they seemed tragic.

  The last door was closed and painted blood red. They all paused before it as if none of them wanted to see inside the room. Mom’s fingers trembled as she reached for the door handle. As the door swung open, Mika stepped backward. A dark sensation rolled over her like a tidal wave.

  “It’s empty,” said Dad, sounding relieved. “I’ll go check the attic.”

  Mom leaned into the room. “You wait here, Mika.”

  Mika almost said okay, but then she saw what the room held. Portraits. There was no furnit
ure. No toys. No clothes. Nothing but paintings hanging on red walls. Maybe there was another painting of Lucinda here — a real painting, not a magical one. One they could take home to show the police.

  Taking a deep breath, like a swimmer about to jump into a black pool, Mika stepped inside. She forced herself to walk to the first portrait.

  A girl, close to Mika’s age, stared back at her. She looked like a younger Lucinda, but with a sympathetic, understanding face. Mika reached up and rubbed the tarnished label. Sarah.

  “Do you know where my brother is?” she whispered.

  Sarah’s gentle eyes became luminous with painted tears.

  Mika stumbled backwards, her mind awhirl.

  No, it couldn’t be. But Sarah looked so real — just like Lucinda’s painting had looked real. And the eyes were pleading with her now, reaching out to her.

  Help me.

  Sarah was alive, locked in a painting!

  “Did Lucinda do this to you?” Mika croaked beneath her breath.

  “What did you say, honey?” Mom asked behind her.

  “Nothing.”

  Mom moved toward the door. “These portraits look so sad. I just can’t look at them any more.”

  “Me either.” Mika averted her eyes from Sarah’s face as she followed her mom — until a horrible thought sent her spinning back around.

  Joseph! Could he be trapped in one of the paintings?

  She rushed to the painting beside Sarah. An elderly man. Even with a moment’s glance, Mika could see livid frustration alive on his face, could almost hear the words he longed to shout.

  The next painting held a girl a little younger than Sarah. Beside her, a boy of fourteen or fifteen. Mika couldn’t bear to look in their eyes.

  “Mika? What’s wrong?”

  Next was a Jack Russell terrier, the unhappiest dog Mika had ever seen.

  Mika ran to the last painting. Not Joseph either! Instead, a middle-aged man and woman looked down at her, their eyes the saddest of all. Their label read Mom and Dad. The final confirmation. A child of this couple had done this, or their given names would be on the label instead of Mom and Dad. And these two people looked the perfect age to be Lucinda’s parents.