Rebecca's Rashness

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Rebecca's Rashness Page 8

by Lauren Baratz-Logsted


  "Do you think you could build something like that, Mr. Pete?" Annie asked. "Like what we're describing?"

  "Yes, I think I can," Pete said. "And as hard as it might be, the idea of sequestering one of you lot, it has to be done."

  "What does sequestering mean?" Petal asked.

  "It means to keep someone apart from other people," Jackie said.

  Okay, we'd known about Jackie, but who knew Pete had such a vast vocabulary?

  "It's not just for our own good and the good of society," Pete went on. "It's for Rebecca's good as well. Why, if we just let her go on like this, she might eventually go up in self-immolation."

  Six of us weren't completely sure what that meant but we were fairly certain Pete meant that Rebecca might set herself on fire.

  Conflagration. Immolation.

  One good thing that was coming out of all this: we were expanding our knowledge of synonyms for the word fire.

  At least there was that.

  ***

  "What are you doing, Mr. Pete?" Rebecca asked.

  Rebecca had apparently grown tired of being horizontal and was now back to being vertical. She'd found us in the backyard, gathered around Pete as he worked.

  Pete grabbed a six-inch-thick sheet of reinforced steel and placed it next to another. Without being asked, Petal handed him a steel nail.

  "Oh, what a shame," Pete said. "You've spoiled the surprise. Why, I'm building something for you, Rebecca."

  "For me?" Rebecca said. "But why? And what is it?"

  "I'm doing it because you saved my life," Pete said. "As for what it is, just watch and see."

  So we all watched, most of us knowing what Pete was building, one of us not.

  At last, Pete was done with the small structure; it looked kind of like Daddy's toolshed, only made out of steel.

  "I still don't understand what it is or what it's for," Rebecca said. "I don't know why there's a little rectangular slot in the door, as if someone wanted to make sure there was proper ventilation, or what the fluffy pillow is doing in there, or why there's a sink with a water glass and toothbrush in it, or why you installed a toilet in the corner. And what's that miniature version of it doing off to one side and why does it have a water dish and a soft cushion and a catnip toy and a litter box inside of it?"

  "Why," Pete said, "that's for Rambunctious. Rambunctious deserves a prize too."

  According to prior arrangement, Durinda, Georgia, Jackie, Marcia, Petal, and Zinnia disappeared then, soon reappearing with wheelbarrows piled high with cans of pink frosting and kibble.

  Immediately we began stocking the shelves inside the two steel structures.

  "What—" Rebecca started to say, but Pete cut her off.

  "It's your prize," Pete said. "I know how much you like pink frosting so I wanted to put a whole bunch of it separate from the house so you'd never have to share again with anyone else, never run out. And of course Rambunctious has her own personal supply of kibble now too."

  Rambunctious tiptoed on cat feet into the smaller of the two steel things Pete had created.

  "This is magnificent!" Rebecca said, entering the larger structure. "This is—"

  That's when we slammed both doors shut.

  And bolted them.

  ***

  "Let me out of here!" Rebecca shouted.

  Sounds of a cat wailing came from the smaller structure.

  "Zither says Rambunctious would like to be let out too," Zinnia informed us.

  We ignored Zinnia. A person didn't have to pretend to have the ability to communicate with cats to understand Rebecca's cat's sentiments at the moment.

  "We will," Durinda shouted back to Rebecca.

  "On August first," Jackie added.

  "When it's safe to be around you again," Petal said. Then she paused, finally adding, "Or safer."

  "It's for your own good," Pete said.

  Fire flew out the rectangular slots on the doors of both structures, but we ignored the flames, and the continued shouting too.

  "Shall we go inside where it's quieter?" Annie said.

  "I'll make us a snack," Durinda said.

  "Oh, good," Zinnia said. "After all this, I've really built up an appetite."

  "I think I'll stay out here," Georgia said, "maybe lounge in the hammock."

  "Won't all the shouting bother you?" Marcia asked.

  "Nah," Georgia said. "I find racket to be rather peaceful."

  "Just stay out of the way of the flames," Jackie advised.

  "Is everyone else ready for that snack now?" Mrs. Pete said.

  So that's what we did.

  We went and had a snack, feeling as though life had returned to some semblance of normal.

  And for the next seven days, we continued to do normal things. We cleaned out the worst of the damage to Fall. We got the long picnic table we'd used at the Bastille Day party and put it in the dining room, so we had something to stand around when we ate our meals. We even went out and purchased a new TV.

  We weren't worried so much about our brains rotting. We always seemed to have bigger things to worry about.

  It was a peaceful week filled with us taking turns lying in the hammock, drinking lemonade and lying on our backs staring up at the puffy clouds to see animal shapes in them, all of which the Mr. McG had once advised us to do over the summer.

  We didn't even mind, while we were relaxing outdoors, hearing the sounds of Rebecca shouting and Rambunctious doing the kitty equivalent of shouting and seeing flames flying through those rectangular slots. It'd been our experience in life that people could get used to almost anything.

  Or at least we could.

  ***

  On the seventh day of Rebecca's sequestration, a strange thing happened.

  Rebecca stopped shouting.

  Could Rebecca have finally run out of anger? That hardly seemed possible. Whatever the case, Rebecca had stopped shouting and instead was speaking—dare we say it?—calmly.

  How eerie.

  "If I tell you what I've figured out," Rebecca said quietly through the slot to us when we went out to say good morning to her, as we did every morning, "and I further promise not to use my power again unless necessary, will you let me out of here?"

  "It's a trick!" Petal cried.

  "No, it's not," Rebecca said, still eerily calm.

  "What do you mean, what you've 'figured out'?" Annie said.

  "About Queen and the Ochos," Rebecca said. "Also about the Wicket and Frank Freud and Crazy Serena. You know, stuff like that." Rebecca paused. "It's amazing what a person can figure out in her own head if she's given time and space to think about things."

  This was a revelation. We'd had good evidence that the only things filling Rebecca's mind were spider webs and cans of pink frosting. We never would have guessed there were actual ideas up there.

  But wait a second. Hang on.

  Rebecca now knew things?

  TWELVE

  "I don't hear any of you talking," Rebecca said after a long moment of silence. "Fine," she said when we still didn't say anything. "I'll tell you what I know and then you decide if it was worth enough to trust me and let me out of here."

  A moment passed.

  "You do have our attention now," Annie said to the slot. "Please talk."

  "It's like this," Rebecca began. "We've already figured out that Queen is Mommy's identical twin sister, a sister we never knew about for some reason, just like we never knew about Crazy Serena. And we figured out that the Ochos are Queen's children because her last name is Ocho and we know there are children involved. But what we haven't figured out, at least not before today, is how many children there are."

  "And you've managed to figure this out?" Georgia said with sneering skepticism.

  "Yes," Rebecca said, and there was that calm again, serenity even. "There are eight Ochos, just like there are eight Huits."

  "Eight?" Petal cried in fear. "So many?"

  "Yes," Rebecca said. "It stands to reason, d
oesn't it?" She paused. "The Eights? That's what we're called. The Other Eights? That's what they were called in all those notes the carrier pigeons brought us. Eight isn't just our last name, and it can't be just their last name. Eight is how many of us there are. Eight must be how many of them there are too."

  Wow. The idea of there being eight Ochos, just like we were eight Huits. Eight Ochos who were ... our cousins!

  "I can't believe I'm saying this," Annie said, "but I think Rebecca's right."

  "I'm sure she's right," Marcia said. "It's simple mathematical math sense."

  "Have you figured out anything else about the Ochos?" Jackie asked Rebecca.

  "Not for certain," Rebecca said. "But I see no reason why they can't be octuplets too."

  What a horrifying thought! We'd always thought we were so original!

  "They could be octuplet girls, for all we know," Rebecca said, "just like us. Or maybe they're even boys—our male counterparts. But whatever they are, I'm certain there are eight of them."

  This was so much to think about.

  "But wait a second," Annie said. "You also said you'd figured out something about the Wicket, Frank Freud, and Crazy Serena."

  "Oh, that," Rebecca said, as though it were nothing.

  "Yes, that," Georgia prompted.

  "I simply figured out," Rebecca said, "that we need to stop worrying about them like we always do. None of them knows anything. If they did, it would be obvious. All they want is the secret of eternal life. We should forget about them and refocus our energies on discovering where Mommy and Daddy disappeared to."

  "Don't you mean to add 'or how they died'?" Georgia said.

  "No, I don't," Rebecca said. "I'm sure they're still alive. I feel it."

  This was a new Rebecca.

  "Can I come out now?" Rebecca said. "I promise not to burn things unless you specifically ask me to."

  What else could we do? We let her out. Rambunctious too. We weren't sure they'd behave, but Rebecca had promised, and Zinnia informed us that Rambunctious had promised too. Letting them out after their promises—it was a chance we'd have to take.

  ***

  "Well, what do you know?" Rebecca said calmly as she reached for the knob on the front door. "It looks like my gift has arrived."

  Rebecca was right once more, we realized as we saw the heart-shaped locket dangling from the doorknob.

  "What are you going to put inside it?" Zinnia asked when Rebecca opened it and we saw there was nothing inside except two empty spaces for pictures.

  "I'm not sure yet," Rebecca said, slipping it over her head. "I'll have to give it some thought."

  Rebecca giving something some thought? This was such a new Rebecca, we didn't know what to do with her!

  "I think I'll go check and see if my note's here," Rebecca said, heading off to the drawing room.

  We followed her.

  Sure enough, Rebecca was right ... again!

  Dear Rebecca,

  Fourteen down, two to go. I must say, with you involved, it was touch-and-go if this day would ever arrive. Good show.

  "Aren't you going to get mad at the note?" Georgia said. "It sounds to me like the note was insulting you, with all that stuff about 'with you involved.'"

  "I'm not bothered by it," Rebecca said. "The note seems to know me pretty well."

  This Rebecca was so new and so confusing to poor Petal that of course Petal fainted.

  ***

  The rest of the month passed with the household oddly serene; Rebecca kept her word and did not set anything else on fire.

  On the last day, which was a Thursday, Pete offered to take us all out to dinner as a treat.

  "Are you sure?" Annie asked. "That could get expensive."

  "Mostly," Georgia said, "when restaurants see us coming, restaurants run the other way."

  "I could use a night off from the kitchen," Durinda said.

  "I'm sure," Pete said.

  "Don't you ever work anymore?" Marcia asked Pete. "I'm not complaining, but I have noticed that you do seem to be around all the time since you moved in."

  "I just think that maybe you need me a bit more than you used to," Pete said.

  "You need us more," Mrs. Pete added, "which is why we've stayed on."

  "Shall we go?" Pete said.

  ***

  We arrived at the restaurant and told the person there that we needed a table for ten, and eventually we settled into our seats.

  "This is such a treat!" Zinnia said, giddy.

  We ignored her.

  "I decided what to put in my locket," Rebecca said.

  "What?" Jackie asked.

  "Pictures of Mommy and Daddy," Rebecca said, opening the locket to show us. "It's to remind myself not to worry so much about the little stuff and to keep my mind focused on what's really important."

  We all got tears in our eyes at that, even Pete.

  "I've been thinking," Marcia said when we'd all re-covered, "and what I've been thinking is that this month has been the oddest month yet."

  "You mean because of Rebecca basically getting two powers?" Jackie asked.

  "Marcia, are you still obsessing about the note leaver?" Georgia said.

  "Those things too," Marcia said, "but that's not what I meant."

  "Then what did you mean?" Annie asked.

  "It's just that when others of us have gotten our powers, we've somehow used our powers to help save the day," Marcia said. "But unless I missed something, Rebecca only ever used her power of fire to destroy things."

  "I don't know if it's so strange." Rebecca shrugged. "That week I spent in the steel structure, all that time I had to think and to gain knowledge about stuff..." Rebecca shrugged again. "Sure, power is power. But knowledge is an even greater power."

  That sounded so ... wise.

  This Rebecca was so new, our heads were spinning!

  At last, the waitress arrived to take our drinks order.

  "Mango juice for all the others, please," Rebecca ordered before anyone else had the chance to.

  "And for you?" the waitress asked.

  "A giant glass of pulp, please," Rebecca said, her grin splitting across her face. "The biggest glass of pulp you've got."

  Then, for good measure, Rebecca rose from her seat, threw her napkin on the table, and shouted at Petal, "I'm going to Wife-Carry you!"

  As Rebecca chased Petal through the restaurant and Petal shrieked in what could have been panic or could have been glee, Zinnia rose from her seat. And then Zinnia began spinning happily where she stood, joyfully crying out, "Yay! Tomorrow's August first. Finally. Me next!"

  It was a good night.

 

 

 


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