Jack James and the Tribe of the Teddy Bear (29 page)

THIRTY-FIVE

“IS…IS EVERYBODY OKAY?” Amelia shook the dust from her mohair sweater and investigated inside the sideways Volkswagen. Liz hung by her seatbelt, moaning and feeling her neck. Her spirit clothes were a bit chaotic, but she’d be all right. Amelia unsnapped her restraint and crawled in back onto the mound of cushions and beanbags. “Lily, guys? You okay?”

She tossed aside a large pillow. Lily peered up at her. She scanned in several directions, then whispered, “Is that bad man gone?”

“I think so,” Amelia answered.

“Amelia?”

“What, Lily?”

“That was kinda fun.”

Amelia felt her muscles relax. The girl seemed fine. Her spirit clothes burned strong. A big relief.

“Let’s do it again!” Pud emerged from beneath a beanbag wearing a big grin.

“I don’t think so,” Ayita shoved aside another enormous cushion.

Amelia sighed when she saw both Tanakee’s vivid auras. Her heartbeat became a little less ragged with every living soul she encountered, a gradual stress decrease as she checked each one off her mental list.

Okay,
she thought,
all accounted for. Except…

“Jack!” Liz called.

“Out there!” Ayita pointed. One of the back doors had been forced open by the impact of the crash.

“No! NO!” Amelia pushed through the pillows and out the door. “JACK!”

Liz scrambled to free herself. Amelia scurried to help, climbing on top of the van, which really was its side, and prying open the driver’s door. Liz stabilized on the passenger seat and, with Amelia’s assistance, pulled herself out. They both stood on the Volkswagen and yelled for Jack.

Hearing nothing, they climbed down and searched the roadside. Liz scrutinized every square foot. Amelia saw her tears.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “And I want to tell you he isn’t.”

“Isn’t what?”

“Jack isn’t dead. He’s alive.”

“How do you know? Oh, that’s right. You just know, don’t you? If you know so much, why didn’t you know that evil son of a…” she glanced at Lily. The little girl squinted. “…gun was gonna attack us?”

“I tried to tell you.”

Liz lowered her eyes to the gravel. She sighed and pulled Amelia close. “You did. I’m sorry. I believe you, understand?”

Amelia felt her own tears coming. She nodded.

“Listen, if you know where to find Jack, tell me. Don’t hold anything back. I trust you. Don’t be afraid.”

She bowed and tickled her own palm with the eagle feather. “It’s hard to see. All I can tell you is Jack’s alive, but he’s in serious danger. We all are.”

Lily clutched her mother’s leg. “Mommy, what are they going to do to Jack? Are they going to hurt him?”

Liz combed her hand through Lily’s blonde curls. “No. They’re not going to lay a finger on him. I won’t let them. Neither will your father. We’re gonna get Ben out of jail, and he’s gonna fix the—hey, wait!”

“The O/A!” Amelia finished her thought. “Jack has it!”

“Uh, guys,” nobody listened to Pud.

“If Davos gets the O/A, he might destroy it!”

“I know! What are we going to do?”

Pud cleared his throat. “Hey, guys!”

“That machine was our only chance!”

“Guys!”

Liz stomped her foot. “What!”

Pud grinned, holding up the O/A. “This what you’re talking about?”

“Oh, you furry little angel!” Liz stole him into her grasp. “I could just kiss you!”

Pud giggled breathlessly. He sat straight in her arms and puckered his lips.

Liz let her eyes wander to Amelia, then Lily, and finally Ayita. They all laughed. All except Pud. He frowned.

“What?” he asked. “Where’s my kiss?”

The girls laughed harder.

“Okay. You’ll get a kiss,” Liz said. She removed the O/A from his hands. “Get this to my husband, and I’ll give you a kiss. How’s that?”

Pud’s smile broadened. He was about to answer when something distracted him. It distracted Ayita too.

“What?” asked Amelia. “What do you hear?”

They both fell silent and unresponsive as a car crept around the bend in the road, red and blue lights flashing. Amelia’s flesh frosted over with goose pimples.

THIRTY-SIX

JACK THOUGHT Pud’s scavenging idea was kind of fun, though Teresa’s old house was but a pile of ruins. Dangerous ruins, too. He’d already stepped on a nail. Luckily, it only went through the rubber sole on his shoe. It still scared him.

Normally, he would have never attempted such a foolish act. He was starved, though, and already knew where to search. Pud had showed them. He found the fridge, and inside it, all the turkey he ever wanted.

Munching on cold cuts, he climbed out of the collapsed edifice and negotiated his way to the edge of the forest where he’d last seen Takota. One final glimpse behind. He had thoughts of his mother, Amelia, his father. He felt in his pocket for the O/A. Gone. His mind raced with worry. Then he remembered giving it to Pud. Hopefully the little guy still had it. He sighed and put his hands together, tilting to the sky.

“I’ve never really prayed for anything before. But, God, or Eteea, or whoever you are, please, please help my mom and my friends. Please help them get the O/A to Dad,” he looked at the grass, then up again. “Oh, and help me, too, would ya’? Help me find Takota.”

“Jack? Jackie boy, is that you?”

His heart leapt from his chest when he saw Teresa limping across her lawn and brushing weeds from her tattered shawl. Bruised and filthy, her voice sounded hoarse, yet she was alive.

He ran to her. A puff of dust billowed from her dingy wrap when he clutched her.

“All right, dear. All right,” she stroked his chin-length hair. “I’m okay. Everything’s okay.” She examined what was left of her dwelling. “My, what a mess. Wouldn’t you say?”

He laughed in his throat. He couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. His family only had mortgage problems.

“What happened, anyway?” he asked while she picked through the rubble.

“The Nagas happened. Didn’t you see? Well, it’s good you didn’t, good you ran. I didn’t think you were going to get away for a second, there. But you did, and that’s what counts. Houses can be rebuilt. People can’t.”

He examined the broken-down structure. “Yeah, you can rebuild. But it’ll never be the same. Your old house was beautiful. They don’t build ‘em like that anymore.”

“Don’t be too sure. I bet we can restore it exactly the way it used to be. Even better.”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“You still don’t believe, do you? After what you witnessed last night? Child, you have to open your heart,” she stepped into what used to be her front porch. “Fact is, this kind of thing has happened a time or two before. A house doesn’t live to be almost two hundred years old and not have to be resurrected on occasion, especially if it’s owned by witches. Goes with the trade, I guess.”

“You mean this place has been destroyed before?”

She crouched, peering under a buckled ceiling beam. “Several times. It’s been burnt twice, possessed by demons four times, smashed by three giants now—two of which have been mine, by the way—and, oh yeah, it was flooded once. But that wasn’t my fault.”

“Flooded? Did some evil spirit send a deluge of water to wash you away?”

“No. Water heater burst. Darn basement was a mess. Speaking of, give me a hand, will you?”

She found a crevice in the stone foundation big enough for her to slip into the subterranean void. He held her hand, making sure the aging lady didn’t fall on the carved basalt. He marveled at her spryness. She had to be at least eighty, though if judged by fleetness of foot, he would have said she moved with the nimbleness of a child. She landed on the earthen cellar floor, stooping to stay clear of the collapsed first level.

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

She let him know she was too busy to talk with mumbled curses at the tight confines. Jack heard her drag herself along in places. He saw no trace of her, yet knew her location by the trail of scratching, crashing and swearing. Finally, she reemerged and handed him a small book. Bound in ancient, cracking leather, it smelled of fragrant herbs, same as Teresa’s house.

“What is this?” he opened it.

“Don’t read it,” she warned. “Here, give an old lady a lift.”

He helped her out of the hole, though it seemed she didn’t need it. The old lady routine was just an act. He played along.

“As I said, this kind of thing has happened before. Many, many times,” she grabbed the book and rifled through its pages. “Now, where is it? Where is it?”

“Where is what?” he stood on his tiptoes.

“My little homeowner’s policy.”

He dropped to flat feet. “You mean insurance? Boring! I was hoping it would be something a little more…”

“Magical?” she laughed. “You want magical? Then you’re in for a treat, because I found it! Insurance? Yes, most people have insurance. They don’t have this, though.”

She flattened the book open and placed a satin mark in the crease. Clearing her throat, she read:

“All the workers of the forest gathered. Denizens of the woodland craftsman guilds. The carpenter elves, the blacksmith gnomes, the stone layer dwarves and the glassworker fairies. All assembled to build the house of the Tree Witches once more. From the five cardinal directions—air, fire, water, earth and spirit—hearing the words of the storytelling Gaia, and abiding by the will of Eteea.”

He noticed the birds. Normally chatty, they increased their singing. More joined in until he had to cover his ears. Other animals added their calls to the symphony, a deafening melody of natural sounds. If it bothered Teresa, she didn’t let it show. Instead, she pointed, laughing.

“Here they come!”

At ground level, the wind began to howl. Tiny whirlwinds gathered leaves, bits of soil, decomposed plants and other matter. Jack spun in circles, watching the earth press upward in numerous places. Small, protruding clumps formed into larger mounds. The swirling dust combined pieces of dirt, worms, millipedes, rocks and animal bones with hunks of wood, moss, lichens and roots. Dozens of decaying forest material piles collected into different shapes and sizes, resembling various mythical creatures: short, fat imps with mossy brows and mushroom hats, wiry elves with wooden horns and elongated thistle noses, twig fairies with golden straw for hair and wings made of fern fronds and dried maple leaves.

“They greeted each other,” Teresa continued reading. “Then they greeted their hostess.”

The stickwork elves, the stone and earth dwarves, and the wicker fairies nodded and bowed and curtseyed. After that, they saluted Teresa. Some of them simply waved. Some danced a happy jig. The winged ones took flight, circling her and Jack. He loved the way they tickled his cheeks when they got close. The fluttering in his ear gave him tingles and made him shrug.

“They saw the once grand house and knew it well. Rebuilding would be but a joy, a labor of love. ‘Because this home must remain for all time a sanctuary for those who cross through the different domains, it must be rebuilt,’ they said.”

The collection of creatures pointed at the demolished structure, nodding and chattering in different languages. He expected them to have high-pitched voices. Not so. They rumbled and grumbled in the lowest tones he’d ever heard.

He wiped his disbelieving eyes. Even after watching Teresa conjure Gedegwsets, it was still difficult to grasp.

“They fashioned their implements from earth, stones and sticks, building them with haste and keen expertise. Perfect hammers and levels, handsaws and cutting horses, shovels and ladders, all ready for a hard day’s work.”

The beings acted while she read. They worked so fast making their tools, Jack found it difficult keeping up. He had to blink, watching one right in front of him, a tiny saw forming out of thin air.

“Tools in hand, they began. No boss, no leader, no foreman. No one needed to be told what to do. They knew, they knew.”

The mystical souls directed their energies on the disorderly rocks, the broken lumber, the shattered glass, and the strewn books. They worked with supernatural speed and skill. The operation’s complexity astounded Jack. Within seconds, they had all the debris arranged and separated, the books cleaned, sorted and set aside. The stones were salvaged, stacked and mortared. The basement was done. The first floor already had a frame. The more burly brutes set the boulders, carried lumber, and organized the raw materials. The elves hammered pegs, sawed beams, and installed cedar shingles. The fairies gathered each and every bit of broken glass, using some sort of magical repair process to get all of the windows put in place.

Teresa took his hand, leading him from the construction noise.

“How’d you do that?” he panted. “I mean, I know you read the story and it happens, but how?”

“I more than read, Jack. I believe,” she sat on a creaky rope swing hanging from a walnut tree. “It’s more than that, though. I have to believe, and also I have to ask. That’s very important. You have to learn how to ask for what you want. And there are rules. You can’t have just anything. It has to be for good, for peace. Whatever you ask for, whatever you wish to summon can never be used to attack. Only to defend.”

He kicked the ground. “I don’t want to attack anybody. I just want to find Takota.”

“What? Is he missing?”

“He left.”

“Left! Why would he leave? When?”

“A little while ago. He said he didn’t think he could help me. Said he failed against Davos last night, and he’d never be able to live up to being my protector. He told me he thought the best way to keep me safe was to get away from me.”

“That’s downright silly,” she snorted.

“That’s what I told him. But he’s stubborn. He really doesn’t think he’s the one for the job.”

She contemplated. “Poor Takota. He’s having a pretty bad crisis of confidence, isn’t he? I was afraid this might happen. With one of you children, though. Not with a Tanakee. They seem so sure of themselves. Especially that Cheyton.”

“He’s gone, too. He went after Enola. They captured her.”

“Davos has Enola?”

“We think so. We think they have her at Archer Savage’s compound.”

“You’re going to need Takota,” she sprang from her seat. “Did he say where he was going?”

“He said something about going home to warn the others. He also said he needed to talk to one of the elders.”

“Orzabal.”

“Yeah, that’s him!”

“Come on, we’re going to Wind Whisper Woods.”

“You know how to get there?”

“Of course. It’s not far at all.”

“What about your house?”

They turned to watch the construction. The progress amazed him. The entire frame had been finished, rising two stories with its rounded, medieval tower and steep gables. The proud structure had already regained most of its majesty. His vision darted in every direction to keep up with the elves and dwarves and fairies flitting in hyperspeed. He knew within minutes the house would be finished, each of the otherworldly workers doing their part. They were all so happy to be helping Teresa, too. That’s why the work seemed like play, and also why it would soon be complete.