Durinda's Dangers (9 page)

Loudly.

"Gee," Annie said, yelling at the top of her lungs so probably people in the next town could hear her, never mind the Wicket, who was just in the next room. She was reciting her lines from the script she'd prepared and had us all memorize. "That was awful when some unknown person broke into our home a few weeks back."

"It really was," Durinda shouted.

"When we got home and found Mommy's private study had been entered, I thought I was going to have a heart attack," Georgia said.

"And to think," Jackie said, "whoever that awful person was, they took whatever was in Mommy's Top Secret folder."

"It's a good thing," Marcia said, "that whoever it was, they didn't know about the
other
folder."

The hairs stood up on the backs of our necks. It was almost as though we could see the Wicket's ears perk up, hear her tiny little brain saying,
Wait a minute here. What
other
folder?

She'd probably write about it in her diary tonight.

"Oh, don't know it," Petal said, muffing her lines. Then she self-corrected to "I mean to say, don't I know it."

"The
other
folder is an amazing thing," Rebecca said.

"It's true," Zinnia said, "and Mommy is a genius for inventing it."

Again, it was as though we could hear the Wicket's thoughts thundering through the walls:
What
other
folder?

"Yes," Annie said, "only Mommy would think to create a second folder, marked
Nothing,
in which she put all of her
real
information about making it so people could live forever if they want to."

"And where does Mommy keep that other folder?" Durinda asked. "Sometimes I forget these things."

"She keeps it in the same file drawer as the Top Secret folder," Georgia said. "But it's hidden all the way in the back, behind the drawer itself."

"It's a good thing it's safe," Jackie said.

"But how long will it stay that way?" Marcia wondered.

"That's true," Petal said. "We have to go to that...
thing
at school Monday night." Petal had been supposed to say that
science fair,
but apparently she'd forgotten that part.

"And Mommy is going with us," Rebecca said.

"What time does that, er,
thing
start at school?" Petal asked, thereby making up for her previous fumbles by raising an important point that hadn't been covered in Annie's script.

"Six o'clock," Annie said.

"Isn't that a bit early for a school function?" Rebecca asked.

"Well, it is still winter," Annie said, "so it will already be dark by six, a fine time for a school function."

"Yes, Mommy is going with us," Rebecca said, repeating her earlier line to get us back to the original script.

"Daddy too," Zinnia said.

"So there will be no one at home," Annie added, finishing up the last lines in our script, "to make sure no one breaks in and searches the house for the Nothing folder."

We all sighed loudly as if there was nothing to be done about it. When you have a choice between going to a
thing
at school or guarding a Top Secret folder containing information that could change life on this planet as we know it, you always have to go to the
thing.

"I just hope no one breaks in while we're gone." Durinda ad-libbed a last line.

The Wicket returned then, bearing a tray with eight jelly glasses. Inside of each, there was about an inch of rusty-looking water.

Gee, do you think she could spare it?

"My," Annie said, looking at her wrist even though she wasn't wearing a watch. "How time flies when you're having fun."

"We need to get going now," Durinda said. "Gotta keep up with that old homework, you know."

"And of course, we have a
thing
to prepare for," Jackie said.

"Bye!" said Petal.

"Bye!" said Zinnia. "Thanks for the water!"

We don't think the Wicket noticed that we hadn't drunk any of her rusty old water.

She was too busy smiling an evil smile.

***

"So what do we do now?" Durinda asked Annie once we were outside again.

"Now," Annie said with a smile, "we go home and make a
Nothing
folder."

CHAPTER TEN

It was Monday and we were playing in the schoolyard.

Our recesses at the Whistle Stop lasted forty-five minutes. Even when it was cold outside, as it still was, unless there was a blizzard or monsoon going on, we were expected to play outside the whole time. The benefits of fresh air and all that.

Will was with us, but Mandy was off to one side, playing by herself and occasionally eyeing us darkly.

"We don't get it," Annie said to Will, speaking for all of us. "Mandy used to act like she hated us, but she wanted us to give her a valentine; we gave her a big valentine, and now it seems as though she's back to hating us again."

"It is a puzzle," Durinda said.

"She just doesn't know what to make of you," Will said. "She never has."

"How do you mean?" Marcia asked.

"Well, it's like this," Will said. "Mandy's an only child."

"She
is?
" Jackie said.

"Yes," Will said, "just like me. You know, it can get lonely being an only child."

Huh. That was something we'd never thought about.

"Even I get lonely sometimes," Will went on. "And for someone like Mandy, well, I think she looks at all of you and gets jealous for what you have: each other. And she wants to be a part of it, but she doesn't know how and she figures you don't really need her because you have that special thing: each other."

Huh. Who would have ever dreamed anyone would be jealous of us? And who would have ever dreamed Will knew so much about child psychology?

Will really was a marvelous boy. He was probably the most marvelous boy who had ever lived.

Which reminded us...

"Will," Annie asked coyly, "we've been meaning to ask you: which of our valentines did you like the best?"

"Was it mine?" Petal asked.

"Mine?" Zinnia echoed.

"I'm pretty sure it had to be mine," Rebecca said. "Mine had a rocket blaster instead of some measly old arrow smashing through the heart."

Eight girls leaned forward with bated breath. We were finally about to learn which of us Will liked the best.

Will's expression was puzzled.

"Best?" he said. "I liked them all the same. I like all of
you
the same."

Huh. Now there was something we hadn't expected.

"How could I like one of you more than the others?" Will went on. "It would be like asking me to name my favorite star in the night sky."

Eight girls sighed, sighs of love. Now this was something we could live with.

It was hard, though, never having anyone else with whom to share what was going on in our lives. True, we had one another, and that was a lot. And sure, Pete sort of knew what was going on. But it wasn't the same as having someone like us, someone, say, like Will, who we could confide in. It was time for us to take a chance. It was time for us to trust a person out side of our own inner circle, and who better than someone wise like Will?

So we all perfectly understood why Annie said:

"Will, hold on to your hat." Even though he wasn't wearing a hat. "We have something to tell you..."

By the time recess was over, Will knew everything: about our parents' disappearance, or death; about the first note and the carrier pigeons; about the powers and the gifts; about the Wicket and the Top Secret folder. He even knew what we were planning for that night.

"I can't believe all this!" he said, stunned, when we'd finally stopped talking. "This has been going on since New Year's Eve. How did you ever keep all of this to yourselves? You Eights are amazing!"

Eight pairs of feet shuffled in modesty.

"Wow," Will said, "I'd sure love to be there when the Wicket breaks into your house again tonight..."

Which was how it happened that Will
was
there.

We'd had him call his mother and inform her our parents had okayed us inviting him over for a play date. He came home with us on the bus. After we introduced him to Carl the talking refrigerator and Betty, the love of Carl's life, we all sat down to the warm early dinner Durinda had prepared with Jackie's help.

It was odd eating dinner at four in the afternoon, but it was nice having nine of us at the table.

Will thought everything about us—Annie being able to handle the finances, Durinda being an ace in the kitchen—was so cool. He even thought it was cool when we had Dandruff demonstrate for him how she could freeze all of the cats except Zither.

"I can't believe you all live like this!" Will said. "And nobody knows it!"

Except for Will. And Pete, sort of.

It was great seeing our lives through Will's eyes. When Pete had been here the night he helped fix Carl and made us make the valentines, he hadn't stopped liking us over it, but we knew he thought the way we lived was odd. Probably because he said as much. But Will? He just loved it all.

Then it was time to stop playing and get down to serious business.

"Durinda," Annie said, "prepare the Hummer."

Will raised his eyebrows and pointed at Annie. "She drives?"

We guessed we hadn't told him that part.

"Oh, yes," Jackie said.

"But not as well as she thinks she does," Georgia muttered, earning a smack from Annie, who'd heard the mutter.

Once we were all in the Hummer and Annie was inching down the driveway, Will started looking a little green around the edges.

"Are you sure Annie knows what she's doing?" Will asked.

"Most of the time." Rebecca shrugged as Annie nearly ran over the mailperson, who was making a late delivery.

"Don't worry," Marcia said. "We're not going far."

"Just around the corner," Jackie said, "so the Wicket will have seen the Hummer leave and will think we're gone for the night."

"She has to believe no one is home," Zinnia said.

"Then we'll sneak back so we can watch all the fun," Rebecca said.

Which is exactly what we did.

It was too cloudy to see the moon that night, meaning it was very dark when nine bodies crept into our yard and hid behind a tree, one head peeking out over the other, so we could see it when the Wicket broke into our home for the second time in as many months.

Which wasn't hard to do, since we'd left the door unlocked for her.

We'd also left the front and back porch lights on so we could see things, since Marcia had checked the weather report and informed us there would be no moonlight.

Sometimes, we thought, Marcia was almost as smart as Annie.

We watched as the Wicket sneaked into our yard.

"Wow!" Will said in something quieter than a normal speaking voice but louder than a whisper. "The Wicket really does look like a toadstool!"

"Quiet!" Annie hushed him as the Wicket's head whipped around at the sound of noises in the dark.

Nine bodies held their breath, waiting to see what the Wicket would do next. Would she investigate? Would she just run away?