“I don’t know. She said I’m supposed to find some weapons and bring them back for her and the others like her so they can rescue Emma.”
“Weapons? How am I supposed to get you weapons?”
“Beats me.”
“Couldn’t you have just gone to another city and bought some? I mean, why come here?”
“Because Isis’s magic won’t work on weapons from a parallel universe. But Akako and the others can’t bring any through with them, so she gave me the scroll to come here.”
“And she told you to find me because—”
“I don’t know. I guess she figured you’d know the lay of the land better.”
“Sure, if we’re raiding the library.”
“That’s really all I know. Can you let me go now?”
“Maybe. First, why weren’t you in this Rampart City? I mean, if Miss Earl—Dr. Earl—and Aggie and all them are your friends, why were you so far away?”
Tim looked down at the floor and shook his head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Well tough shit. I’m not letting you go until you tell me.”
He sighed and then nodded. “I was in prison.”
“For stalking little girls?”
“For selling an invention to the wrong person. I thought he was a good man, but he was evil. He used it to hurt people—including my fiancée.”
“They put you in jail for that? Sounds like a pretty shitty world you live in.”
“I was responsible. I deserved it.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Just drop it! Please. Now can I go?”
Renee thought about it for a moment. This Tim guy seemed weird—and apparently he was a felon too—but he seemed sincere. She doubted anyone could make up such a retarded story in any case. And he was pretty cute too—for a felon. “All right, I’ll untie you, but you can’t leave yet.”
“Why not?”
“Daddy’s downstairs. He’ll hear you if you try to sneak out. Come on, we’ll go to my room until he goes to bed.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
She shrugged. If Daddy found a boy—especially a twentysomething felon—in her room he’d send her to military school until she graduated and then he’d probably find some snooty college in the middle of nowhere for her to go to and live like a nun. “It’ll be fine.”
***
Tim sat uncomfortably on the wheeled desk chair, poised to dive into the closet at any moment. Even when he was a teenager, he’d never snuck into a girl’s bedroom like this. For his few dates back in high school he’d always used the front door. He’d chat with the parents for a couple of minutes until the girl came down, and then they would leave. He’d never had the courage to sneak into their bedrooms later, although a couple practically begged him to do it.
To make the situation worse, the girl in question was less than half his age. She was only eleven years old, too young even for a bra. Had she even had her period yet? He thought better than to ask that question.
Renee lounged on her canopy bed and flipped through a book on whales. “You thinking of going into marine biology?”
She lowered the book and made a face like she’d just sucked on a lemon. “No. You think I want to touch slimy fish all day?”
“Whales aren’t fish.”
“They’re still slimy.” She read another few pages of the book and then set it down with a sigh. “So did you go to college or did you always want to change people’s oil?”
“I have a mechanical engineering degree from Rampart State.”
“Is that like a community college?”
“No. It’s a state university. Not all of our daddies could afford to send us to Harvard or Oxford.”
“You heard that?”
“I couldn’t help it. Probably half the bus heard it.”
“Miss Earl is a little hard of hearing. Still, that was a private conversation.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ll say.”
“Very funny.” He turned his head to the door; he thought he heard footsteps on the stairs.
Renee snorted at this. “Daddy won’t be up for a half-hour. He never comes in here before nine. That’s when the Tokyo exchange breaks for lunch.”
“Your dad is a stockbroker?”
“Not just a stockbroker. He has his own firm. Kim Investments Multinational. KIM, get it? I came up with that when I was three. Drew the logo in crayon too. Daddy still has it framed in his office.”
“That’s nice. So I guess he really does love you.”
“Of course he does. Who said he didn’t?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Whatever. Let’s just figure out your problem so you can get out of here.”
“Yeah, sure.” Tim tried not to sigh at this. He didn’t need an eleven-year-old’s help to find weapons. He needed a real expert on the subject. He needed Sylvia. He thought again of the S. Joubert in the phone book. Renee had a Hello Kitty phone next to her computer; if he reached over he could dial the number—
No, there was no point in that. The Sylvia here wasn’t the same as his Sylvia. Even if she wasn’t eleven or eighty, she still probably didn’t have any more idea how to get some weapons than Renee Kim.
“Well, it seems to me if you want guns, you need to find an arms dealer. Unless you just want hunting rifles, then you could pop over to IKEA.”
“IKEA sells guns?”
“They sell everything.”
“I see. So where do we find an arms dealer? Not like they’re in the phone book.”
“Probably ask around the waterfront. That’s where most of the scummy people hang out.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Gee, because I read the newspapers maybe?” She rolled her eyes at him. “Why couldn’t Akako have sent someone a little brighter?”
“I think you’re forgetting the obvious problem: how are we going to buy guns? Unless you have a couple million in your piggy bank.”
“Don’t buy the guns then. Steal them.”
“You want me to rip off a weapons dealer? I couldn’t even sneak up on you.”
“Yeah, you are kind of a dumbass.”
“Thanks.”
They still didn’t have any ideas when nine o’clock rolled around. Renee leaped off the bed and took Tim’s arm. She pulled him into the closet, where he found himself pressed against a pile of old stuffed animals. “Don’t make a sound,” she said.
“Right.”
The closet door shut, which left Tim to try to find a comfortable position amongst Renee’s old toys. Through the slats of the closet doors, he saw her hop onto the bed and then pull the pink comforter up to her chin. She took the rubber bands out of her turquoise hair to let it fall loose down her back. Then she sat up against her pillows and set the whale book on her lap to read while she waited.
The door opened a minute later and Tim heard a man’s voice say, “You ready for bed now?”
“Daddy, please, it’s only nine o’clock. I’m not a baby anymore.”
“You still child. You need sleep. No sleep, no good grades. You fail school and end up washing dishes.”
“Just a few more minutes, Daddy? Please? I’m almost finished with this book.”
“Why you read about whales?”
“They’re interesting. Did you know the whale and hippo might have evolved from the same animal millions of years ago?”
“That help you get in school and be lawyer?”
Renee snapped the book shut. “Daddy, we’ve been over this a million times. I’m not going to be a lawyer. It’s boring.”
“Then you be doctor.”
“I don’t want to be a doctor either.”
“Then what you do? I not pay for you college so you be aimless bum.”
“Then don’t pay for college. I can get a scholarship.”
“They not give scholarships to girls with no major.”
“Maybe I’ll go study
exotic dancing like Mom.”
Tim’s fists clenched as he watched Renee’s father lunge forward to slap her across the cheek. “You not talk about you mother like that! She good woman.”
“If she’s so good how’s come she killed herself?”
“She depressed. That all.”
“She was depressed because of me. That’s what you want to say. It’s my fault.” Renee began to cry.
Her father sat on the bed beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. “Not your fault. You just baby. It my fault. I should have watch her more carefully.”
“It’s not your fault either, Daddy. She was sick.”
Renee’s father patted her back. “You rest now. We talk tomorrow.”
“OK, Daddy.” She lifted her face and leaned over to kiss her father on the cheek. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” He brushed away her turquoise bangs to kiss her forehead before he turned out the light and then left the room.
From the closet, Tim could hear Renee’s soft breathing. Had she fallen asleep? The cat ballerina lamp beside her bed flicked on. “You can come out,” she said.
Tim tumbled out of the closet along with an avalanche of stuffed animals. He shoved these back in the closet before he resumed his seat in her desk chair. In the yellow glow of the lamp, he could see her eyes were still puffy and moist. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she said. “It happens a lot these days.”
“He hits you a lot?”
“No. I went too far. He’s still in love with Mommy. He won’t even look at another woman.”
“I know how that is. It’s not easy when you lose someone you love.”
“At least he got to know her. I don’t even remember her.”
“I’m sure she’s proud of you.”
“That’s what Aggie said two years ago. Your Aggie, not mine.” Renee sat up in bed and brushed back a loose tress of hair. “Do you think I could go back with you? Maybe there I would be an adult instead of just a little kid.”
Tim thought of the Renee Kim he had met on the bus. Is that who this Renee would wind up as in his world? “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s too dangerous. You could be an adult or you might wind up a baby.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Renee wiped at her eyes and then sniffled. “I’m tired of being a little kid. Why can’t I find a magic suit of armor and get superpowers?”
“You don’t need a magic suit of armor to be like her,” Tim said. “Most of what the armor does—deflecting bullets, leaping long distances, augmented strength—you could do with the right materials—”
The proverbial light bulb went on over Tim’s head. The Scarlet Knight’s armor might be gone, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be a Scarlet Knight. Maybe he couldn’t turn invisible or have a sword that could slice through anything, but he could come close. With the right materials. That would be the hard part.
“Do you have any drafting paper?”
“Sure, over there,” she said. She pointed to a pink set of drawers with flower stickers on it. “Are you going to draw something?”
“It’s going to be something.” He found the drafting paper where Renee indicated and then took a pencil off the desk. As he began his rough sketches, he narrated his idea to Renee.
She looked at him skeptically. “There’s no way you can get that to work,” she said.
“Well, maybe if a certain little genius helps me—”
She smiled and then leaped off the bed. “OK, I’ll help, but if I fail my chemistry test tomorrow it’s your fault.”
With that they set to work.
Chapter 7
After she went a couple of blocks, Emma realized she didn’t really know where she was going. She had only a vague sense the Plaine Museum was to the south. She continued to go in that direction; she hoped eventually she would stumble upon it.
The crowds on the sidewalk pressed around her, to keep her moving forward. With Becky gone she felt so much more vulnerable. She hugged herself as she kept doggedly south to find the museum and her new job.
She realized when she looked at the digital clock on the sign of a bank that she’d walked for forty-five minutes and still not found the museum. Had she already gone past it? She didn’t want to be late; Becky was counting on her to show up.
She saw one of the ubiquitous police officers on the corner. A police officer should be able to tell her where the museum was. They were supposed to help people, weren’t they? The officer didn’t move as she stopped in front of him; a man with a briefcase nearly knocked Emma over. “Excuse me—”
“Move along, little girl.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
The policeman glared down at her. “I said, move along. Are you deaf?”
“No, but—”
“Then get your skinny ass moving before I put it behind bars.”
“Yes, sir.” Emma hurried away. She thought policemen were supposed to help people, but maybe she was as wrong about that as she’d been about a lot of things—especially herself.
After another twenty minutes she was on the verge of breaking down into sobs. That was when she finally saw the museum. But something was wrong. The museum didn’t look the way she thought it should. For one thing, the ‘L’ and ‘E’ had fallen off the sign so that it read, “Pain Museum.” There was also far more graffiti on the front steps and even along the side of the museum than she thought there should be. But this had to be the right place.
She climbed up the steps and pushed through a revolving door to find the interior even more wrong than the exterior. The main gallery with its vaulted ceiling felt right, but she didn’t remember so many skeletons around before. There was a horse, a cow, a deer, a tiger, and others mounted on pedestals. Overhead hung the skeletons of birds from a hummingbird on up to a condor. A pterosaur also hung from the ceiling, poised to swoop down on Emma. Despite the number of skeletons, she knew one was missing, but she couldn’t remember what it might be.
She heard someone clear his or her throat. She saw an elderly woman with a clipboard. “The museum doesn’t open for another hour, young lady.”
“Oh, I’m not a patron,” Emma said. “I’m supposed to be working here. I’m supposed to meet someone named Leslie. Do you know where I can find her?”
“You’re looking at her.” Leslie checked her clipboard. “You must be the Earl girl.”
“Emma.” She held out her hand, but Leslie didn’t shake it.
Instead, the old woman clucked her tongue. “From now on, make sure to wear long sleeves. This is a museum, not a bar.”
Emma didn’t understand what Leslie meant until she glanced at her arms and saw the tattoos. Her face turned warm from embarrassment. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“It had better not. And take a couple rings out of those ears.”
Emma put a hand to her ears and felt the various studs in them. “I will, ma’am.”
“Fine. Now, let’s get you upstairs to where you’ll be working.” Leslie narrated over her shoulder as she walked. “This is the main gallery, where we keep our permanent collection of skeletons. There are also special displays down those hallways. Right now we have our Holocaust display and the Inner Workings series.”
Emma wasn’t sure what this latter meant until they passed by a poster of a man with his body cut open to reveal his organs. The man’s body had been infused with silicon to preserve the dead body just as if he were still alive. Emma put a hand to her stomach and suddenly felt a rumble of hunger.
She caught up to Leslie on the stairs and glanced back down at the main gallery with its skeletons, corpses, and Holocaust display. Something about these didn’t seem right to her. Perhaps it was the common thread they all shared. “Excuse me, ma’am, but aren’t all those exhibits a little morbid?”
“So?”
“Well, I mean, I thought this was a natural history museum.”
“All that stuff’s historical.”
“I guess so. It
just seems kind of gory.”
“People love gore. Why do you think horror movies do so well?”
“That’s true. I suppose.” Emma shut her mouth; it wouldn’t do any good to argue. But she knew the museum wasn’t supposed to be about death; it was supposed to be about life. It was supposed to educate people about the entire gestalt of the world, how everything from the soil to the plants to the people worked together in harmony. She wanted to say all of this, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to rock the boat on her first day.
At the top of the stairs, Leslie turned right. Emma’s heart leaped when they passed by a display of meteors. These seemed very familiar to her. She stopped to read the description of one only to find that she already knew it.
She heard Leslie clear her throat again. “You’ll be working over there,” Leslie said and pointed to the gift shop.
***
The museum gift shop wasn’t much different from any other gift shop. There were toys, T-shirts, hats, videos, books, key chains, postcards, and a variety of miscellaneous knickknacks. Emma’s new job would be to keep track of these items. “You have to keep a close eye on people, especially the kids. Little brats will just walk off with stuff if you aren’t careful,” Leslie said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Emma tried to peek at the clipboard in Leslie’s hand.
“You got a problem?”
“Well, no, but I was just wondering if you’re sure this is what I’m supposed to be doing. I thought maybe I would be doing something in the geology department. Maybe helping with the research.”
“With your record you’re lucky I’m letting you use the cash register.”
“Oh.” Emma looked down at her shoes; she again felt something was wrong. She wasn’t a cashier—was she? No, she felt certain she was much more than that. She wanted to say this, but again held her tongue. If she blew this job, Becky wouldn’t be her friend anymore.
Leslie started towards the back of the store. Along the way she grabbed a white shirt with long sleeves. She tossed it over her shoulder to Emma. “Put that on later.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s coming out of your first paycheck.”
“I understand.” She glanced at the price tag; she was already down thirty-two dollars and she hadn’t even punched in yet.
Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis Page 147
