Spirit’s Key (10 page)

“But wait,” I say after a minute. “I still don't understand. Why does Dr. Wade think two sick people and a bunch of dead baldies will turn into a plague?”

Dad shrugs like he doesn't understand it either. His eyes get heavy, and I think he's going to fall asleep before he can answer. But after a minute he seems to come to a conclusion. “I think Dr. Wade is worried history will repeat itself.”

*   *   *

The next morning, Dr. Wade stands beside the schoolhouse doors yelling as we walk in, “Children with a fever or stomachache should notify Mrs. Dialfield immediately. She will contact me so that you can receive proper care.” He repeats this over and over as we file into the classroom.

Nector and I share a look. No one wants to be sick today.

The schoolhouse doesn't have air-conditioning, only fans, and as the day goes on, things heat up. It's hard not to feel sick.

Mrs. Dialfield circles the room asking everyone what he or she wants to accomplish in the future. She says the last week of the school year is a good time to set goals for our lives.

Nector says he wants to fly an airplane. Yasmine and Gomez say they want to win the world record for paddleball.

Behind me, the Fishborne kids talk about the dead baldie their mother found in their oyster stand at the fish market. Mrs. Fishborne moved it to the beach herself to burn. Now she isn't feeling well.

Tomasena taps me on the shoulder. “Can you help us?” She presses her house key into my hand. “Nector told us you can see the future.”

I look at her in surprise.

“My mother might be sick, too,” she whispers.

Mrs. Dialfield eyes them. “Are you talking about your future goals, Tomasena? I want you to think hard about what you want to accomplish.”

The littlest Fishborne raises his hand.

“Yes, Kelvin,” Mrs. Dialfield says.

“We don't have to think about our future. Spirit can tell us. We want to find out about our mom. Please,” Kelvin begs, “I'm afraid she might die.”

Mrs. Dialfield's eyes widen at the word
die.
She notices the key in my hand. “Are you able to know things like that, Spirit?”

“I think so. I can try.”

“Has your father taught you to”—Mrs. Dialfield pauses as if searching for how to put it—“pepper your readings with hope?”

I think of how Dad said it's our job to help people find the courage to face what lies ahead. “Yes.”

“Five minutes at the end of our lesson, okay?”

The class cheers.

After that Mrs. Dialfield does her best to make us work on our essays, but everyone's focused on the clock. When it's time, all the kids pull their desks closer and lean in, curious and excited to see me do a reading. When Sky was around, everyone acted like I was covered in fleas or something. Baldie fleas. Now I'm so hot under their gaze I can barely think. Is it the key or the heat making me nauseous? Get it together. Don't throw up.

I grip the Fishbornes' key in my hand and try to receive what it has to tell me. Everything is pitch black. As usual. I can't
see
anything. But I'm in their house. Or I think so because it smells like seawater and vegetables—oyster stew. I smell smoke like the stew is burning. Smoke so thick it makes me cough. The smoke smells like it did when I read for Nector. But I don't think I'm on a plane. I'm still in the Fishbornes' house. There's heat so hot it's burning my skin. Like a fire. I feel fire. There's going to be another fire!

We have to get out of the house,
a voice says. It sounds like Tomasena.

Where's Daddy?
Kelvin's voice. He's crying.
I'm scared.

Me too,
Tomasena says.
Take my hand and close your eyes. We're going to jump like acrobats in the circus.

My eyes snap open, because I think they're about to jump out a window.

“What happened? Did it work?” Tomasena asks.

I nod, unsure how to tell her that her house is going to catch on fire—never mind how to phrase it hopefully.

“Is our mother okay?” Kelvin asks.

“That isn't what the key showed me.”

“Well, what did you see?” Tomasena leans forward, and the rest of the class leans in, too.

I'm so hot I can't breathe.

Mrs. Dialfield takes note of me. “Are you okay?” Her voice rises. “Are you sick?”

I shake my head. Can't be sick. Don't be sick.

“Your face is red and you're sweating. And you look like you have the chills,” Mrs. Dialfield says.

“She was shaking when she held the key,” Kelvin points out.

Was I? Dad shakes when he gives readings, too.

Our teacher feels the top of my head like she's checking for a fever.

“Readings give Holdens the shakes,” I explain.

“If you feel sick, let me know, okay?” Mrs. Dialfield says.

“I'm not going to be sick.” But I can barely see through the sweat. The straight blue lines on my notebook paper turn into waves. Nector's reading didn't make me feel this awful. Maybe I'm not supposed to give readings so close together when I'm starting out.

Mrs. Dialfield doesn't look convinced, and the Fishbornes move their desks back an inch. My other classmates follow. They hug the walls like Sky is with me again, and they're afraid.

I'm afraid, too. Afraid of being the messenger. How does Dad do it? Once when I complained that I hadn't inherited the gift, he said,
The gift isn't always cake on your birthday.
He was right. Even though it isn't easy, it's my job to tell the Fishbornes what their key told me.

I take a deep breath and push back the sick. Dad didn't describe every detail of his vision with Mr. Selnick. He focused on what Mr. Selnick needed to do in order to be safe. “Prepare for a fire,” I tell them. “Stay on the first floor of your house so you can escape easily. Keep the windows open. Oh, and…” I remember Kelvin's concern for their father. “Keep track of your dad.”

Tomasena's eyes widen.

“Don't be scared. You'll prepare, and you'll be ready.” I try to sound braver than I feel.

“When is it going to happen?” Kelvin asks. I feel terrible. He's only seven, and he looks like he's going to cry.

“Your dad knew which tree was going to fall on our house and on what day,” Tomasena complains.

“I wish I could help more, but this is all I
know.
”

“So we have to stay on the first floor forever?” Kelvin asks. “But my bedroom is upstairs and all my toys—”

“That's enough,” Mrs. Dialfield says. “Spirit's told you what she knows. Now let her be.”

The heat is unbearable, and the reading has made me feel drained and exhausted. I try not to slide off my seat into a puddle of sweat. But it isn't easy. To distract myself, I hold Sky's tag. He appears outside the school window, tail wagging.

I wish we could run off together into the woods under some cool, shady trees. Instead I'm so hot, I see double. I wipe my eyes. It doesn't help. There's still more than one Sky. More than two.

He's brought three friends?

I release Sky's tag. But only Sky disappears.

His friends stay. They look too young to be dead. They're ghost puppies like Sky.

I count the dead baldies of Bald Island. The one from Mr. Selnick's yard, the one Yasmine and Gomez found on the beach, and now the one at the fish market. Then of course there's Sky.

Four dead baldies.

Four ghost puppy baldies.

They bark at me. A chorus of howls. I touch Sky's tag again, and he joins them. The barking is so loud it sounds like there are dogs inside my eardrums instead of outside the window. I put my hands over my ears, but it doesn't help. The bell rings, and kids shuffle around me, gathering their things. The classroom empties, but I don't move. The Fishbornes don't leave either. They stop to stare. The noise rises with the heat, and the sick goes high tide in my throat. I lurch forward, and I hear the Fishbornes scream.

 

15

A Q
UARANTINE

“I'm sorry,” I say. My stomach swirls and spins. I try to sit as still as I can to settle it.

Mrs. Dialfield calms us with her steady voice. “There's cleaner under the sink. Can you get it for me, Tomasena? Kelvin, can you get us some paper towels?”

The Fishbornes hand Mrs. Dialfield what she needs. Then they back
waaaay
up from the sick I made on the floor. Mrs. Dialfield dives in, cleaning without their help.

“We better have the doctor look at you,” she says to me when she's finished.

“But the reading is what made me sick.”

“The reading made you sick?” Mrs. Dialfield looks surprised.

I nod. “Because I'm still learning.”

“Huh,” she says like she's still worried.

“It's okay. It'll go away once I have the courage to face my today.”

Mrs. Dialfield's face relaxes. “That's very wise.”

“Please don't send for the doctor. No one can know. Puking is bad for business.”

Mrs. Dialfield laughs. “Okay. Your secret is safe with me. What do you think, Tomasena? Kelvin? Can you keep Spirit's secret?”

“You won't tell, will you?” I plead.

Tomasena watches me as if she's trying to decide if helping a dingbatter is allowed. After a few seconds she nods.

But little Kelvin shakes his head. “I'm not good at keeping secrets.”

“Can you try?” Mrs. Dialfield asks.

“Okay,” Kelvin says after a moment. “I can't promise though, because it might be a lie.”

“Fair enough,” Mrs. Dialfield says.

We gather our things, and as soon as I'm outside in the fresh air I feel good enough to hop on my bike and fly home.

But halfway there, I stop riding and rub Sky's tag. I wonder if all the wild ghost baldies will appear again. They disappeared when I threw up. But it's just Sky, wagging his tail, wanting to play Fetch the Pheasant. He sticks his rear end in the air and grins.

I frown. “Something horrible is going on, buddy. Baldies dead all over town. Fires in our futures. Can you tell me what's happening? Why did you die? Were you sick? Were your friends sick? Why are
people
sick?”

I walk beside my bike so he and I can talk.

“You were the first one, boy. The first that I know of. It started with you. Do you
know
things? You must. You're here to tell me, aren't you?”

But Sky only picks up the pheasant and drops it at my feet. I sigh and toss it for him.

The pheasant sails through the air. Sky leaps toward it and raises his nose, like he wants to make sure I'm watching his big blue namesake. He's right, something's up. Real birds appear. They form a V shape, an arrow that points to an eagle. My eagle, the one from Mrs. Borse's house! She's carrying something in her mouth. She drops it, and it falls from the heavens and knocks the pheasant out of the air. I run over to see what it is.

It's a thick, heavy rope with a note pinned to it. Sky sniffs the rope while I unpin the piece of paper.

A great rope for a great moment

A great hope you'll know when

To unlock the magic

Of this great rope

Granted you by the Greats

Another gift from the Holden Spirits! “Look, boy. A rope!” I pick up the eagle's gift.

But Sky is already bored with it.

“Huh. You're right, buddy. Looks like any old rope to me, too.”

Sky walks away like, even though he wanted me to find it, he doesn't know what it's for either.

A great hope you'll know when

Well, all righty, then. I stuff the rope in my backpack for later. “Thanks!” I yell to the eagle. She dips down as if to say
You're welcome
, then flies away.

Sky wags his tail, drops the pheasant at my feet, and then grins up at me for a treat.

“You think you should be rewarded for helping me find this rope, huh? I suppose that's fair.” I pull the bag of kibble from my backpack and feed him a piece.

We ride toward home playing Fetch the Pheasant until Sky suddenly stops. He won't bring the pheasant back.

“Come on, boy. Bring it here for your treat,” I call.

But he won't come. He barks and circles under something posted on a tree. Sky's ability to spot something new or different about his surroundings is amazing. There's a sign on the tree that reads:

BEWARE OF BALDIES

Baldies have transmitted an unknown

sickness to our beloved island.

Those contaminated have been quarantined.

Anyone with symptoms of illness

should contact Dr. Wade.

I don't need a key to tell me this means bad news for the future. I drop my bike in the road and grab my walkie-talkie to call Dad.

“Zookeeper calling Big Panda.” My radio spits static in response. I try again. “Come in, Big Panda.” More static.

I keep trying to call Dad on the radio, but he doesn't answer. He always answers.

“Zookeeper? Red Baron here.” Nector's voice garbles through the radio instead of Dad's.

“Your dad is with Dr. Wade,” Nector says. “Mr. Selnick burned that baldie. Did your dad help? Both of them are really sick. Copy that?”

“But…” Dad is sick because of the gift, not because of a baldie. He said so.

“Zookeeper, do you copy?”

“No, you're wrong. Dad—”

“Meet me at your house in five?”

I agree. “Over and out.”

I pick up my bike and hop on. Sky runs beside me with a new urgency. Something terrible is going to happen. I feel it, and I think Sky does, too.

When I skid up to the house, the Hatterask kids are waiting for me on the front steps.