Merle stood on the ferry, gaping.
Linus leaned out the open window from the front passenger seat. “Are you going to lower the gate?”
Merle didn’t move.
“Useless man,” Linus muttered. “I don’t know why we’re supposed to trust him in charge of a large boat. I’m surprised he hasn’t killed anyone yet.”
“Are we going to crash and sink in the ocean and maybe die?” Chauncey asked. “That would be neat.”
Linus sighed. He really needed to learn to censor himself better. He turned around to look in the back of the van. Six children stared at him with varying degrees of interest at the idea of sinking in the ocean and dying, Lucy and Chauncey more so than the others.
Zoe, sitting in the third row, arched an eyebrow at him, indicating without so much as a single word that this was his mess and he might as well own up to it.
He hoped he wouldn’t live to regret this. Chances were pretty high he would.
“We’re not going to sink into the ocean and die,” Linus said, as patiently as possible. “It’s merely an expression used by adults, and therefore, children such as yourselves shouldn’t say anything like it.”
Arthur snorted from the driver’s seat, but Linus ignored him. He was on very strange ground with Arthur since the night in his bedroom. Where once he’d had no problem in speaking his mind to the master of the house,
he now found himself blushing and sputtering as if he were a school boy. It was ridiculous.
“Do adults think about death a lot?” Lucy asked. He cocked his head at an odd angle. “That must mean I’m an adult too, because I think about it all the time. I like dead things. I would still like you if you were dead, Mr. Baker. Maybe even more.”
Zoe smothered a laugh with the back of her hand and turned to look out the window.
Useless. Her and Arthur both.
“Adults don’t think about death a lot,” Linus said sternly. “In fact, they barely think about it at all. Why, it doesn’t even cross my mind.”
“Then why are so many books written by adults about mortality?” Phee asked.
“I don’t—it’s because—that’s neither here nor there! What I’m trying to say is that there is to be no more talk about death or dying!”
Talia nodded sagely as she stroked her beard. “Exactly. Because it’s better not to know if we’re about to die. That way, we don’t start screaming right now. It’ll be a surprise. We can always scream then.”
Theodore chirped worriedly, hiding his head under his wing as he sat on Sal’s lap. Sal reached down and stroked his back.
“I can tell you when you’re going to die,” Lucy said. He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling of the van. “I think I could see the future if I tried hard enough. Mr. Baker? Do you want me to see when you’re going to die? Ooh, yes, it’s coming to me now. I can see it! You’re going to perish in a terrible—”
“I don’t,” Linus snapped. “And I will tell you again, while we’re in the village, you can’t go around offering to tell people about what fate awaits them!”
Lucy sighed. “How am I supposed to make new friends if I can’t tell them about how they’ll die? What’s the point?”
“Ice cream and records,” Arthur said. “Oh. Okay!”
This was a very bad idea.
“Do you think I look good?” Chauncey asked for what had to be the hundredth time. “I don’t know if I got my outfit quite right.”
He wore a tiny trench coat, and a top hat was set between his eyes. He said it was his disguise, but it did little. It’d been his idea, and Linus hadn’t felt like arguing, especially when Chauncey had exclaimed quite loudly that he couldn’t go to the village nude, even though that was how he spent most of his time on the island. Linus had never thought about it that way. And now he couldn’t not.
“You look fine,” Linus said. “Dashing, even.”
“Like a spy hidden in the shadows about to reveal a big secret,” Sal told him.
“Or like he’s going to open his coat and flash us,” Talia muttered. “Hey! I wouldn’t do that! Only if you asked!”
Zoe was no longer trying to hide her laughter.
Linus turned back around in the seat, staring out the windshield. Merle was still gaping at them.
“Second thoughts?” Arthur asked. Linus didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling.
“No,” Linus said. “Of course not. This is going to be fine. This is going to— Good God, man! Lower the damn gate!”
“Ooooh,” the children said.
“Mr. Baker cursed,” Talia whispered in awe. It was going to be fine.
 |
“We’ll be back later this afternoon,” Arthur said to Merle as they exited the ferry. “I do hope that won’t be a problem. I’ll make sure there’s something a little extra in it for you.”
Merle nodded, still slack-jawed. “That’s … that’s fine, Mr. Parnassus.” “I assumed it would be. It’s good to see you again.”
Merle fled back to the ferry.
“Odd fellow, isn’t he?” Arthur asked. He drove toward the village.
As it was toward the end of September and therefore the beginning of the off-season, the village of Marsyas wasn’t as bustling as it normally was.
Even when Linus had arrived three weeks prior, there were still crowds on the sidewalks, peering into the shops, or children in swimsuits, following their parents who wore flip-flops on their pasty feet, carrying umbrellas and towels and coolers as they headed toward the beach.
The town wasn’t dead, exactly, but quiet, which put Linus at ease. He wanted this to go as smoothly as possible, so they could do it again after he left. The fact that he was thinking in terms of the orphanage remaining as it was never really crossed his mind. That would come later.
But those who were on the street didn’t do much to hide the fact that they were gawking.
Talia, nearest to the window, waved as they drove by a woman and her two children.
The children waved back.
The mother grabbed them and held them close as if she thought they were about to be snatched.
Chauncey, who sat on the opposite end of the bench, plastered his face against the window, eyes darting around. “There’s the hotel! I see it! Look at it! Look at— Oh. My. God. There’s a bellhop. A real, live bellhop! Look! Look.”
And there was, a thin man helping an elderly woman wearing an inordinate amount of fur from an expensive car. They heard Chauncey’s unholy screech, and Linus looked back in time to see Chauncey press his mouth against the glass and blow out a large puff of air, causing his head to expand.
The old woman staggered, hand going to her throat. The bellhop managed to catch her before she fell.
“Wow,” Chauncey breathed as he peeled his face from the glass. “Bellhops can do everything.”
It was going to be fine. It was.
Arthur pulled into a car lot reserved for those headed to the beach. Since it was the off-season, it was mostly empty, and there was no one in the pay booth, which had been shuttered. He pulled into the first free space and
turned off the van. “Children,” he said mildly. “Please exit the vehicle and buddy up.”
A herd of charging, heavily pregnant rhinoceroses would have been quieter than the children were at that moment.
Linus gripped the report in his lap as the van rocked back and forth. The third report was sealed in the envelope as it always was, stamped and addressed to Extremely Upper Management, care of the Department in Charge of Magical Youth. He thought about going to the post office first, but figured it would be best to wait until they were finished. No need for distractions. He set it on the dashboard.
“All right?” Arthur asked quietly.
Linus glanced at him before remembering how their hands felt together, and looked away again. Such frivolous thoughts. “I’m fine,” he said gruffly. “Everything is fine.”
“I believe that’s your mantra for today. You’ve said it enough.” “Yes, well, the more I say it, perhaps the more it will be true.”
Arthur reached out and touched his shoulder briefly. “The children will be on their best behavior.”
“It’s not them I’m worried about,” Linus admitted.
“I distinctly remember a man who proclaimed he wouldn’t stand for rudeness. Quite the fierce sight he made. I was impressed.”
“You should probably get out more if that impressed you.”
Arthur laughed. “You are delightful. And just look! I am out here. Now.
Let’s see what we see, shall we? We can’t stay in the van forever.”
No, they couldn’t, even if Linus wanted to. He was being silly, but he couldn’t curb the strange twist of dread in the pit of his stomach. This had been his idea, one he’d pushed for, but now that they were here?
He looked out the windshield. On the side of the building in front of them, under an advertisement for Chunky Cola—We Have All the Chunks!
—there was a banner, reminding people to SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING.
“You have their identification papers?” Linus asked quietly. “I do.”
“Okay.”
Linus opened the door and stepped out of the van.
The children had lined up in pairs at the rear. Lucy and Talia. Sal and Theodore. Phee and Chauncey. They had come up with their buddies on their own, and while Linus had figured Sal and Theodore would be together, the idea of Lucy and Talia was enough to send shivers down his spine. They tended to feed off each other. He’d had to tell Talia in no uncertain terms that she could not bring her shovel, much to her displeasure.
Which was why he was startled when Arthur said, “Phee and Chauncey, you’re with Ms. Chapelwhite. Sal and Theodore, you’re with me. Lucy and Talia, you are assigned to Mr. Baker.”
Lucy and Talia turned their heads slowly in unison, matching smiles on their faces that sent a cold chill down Linus’s spine.
He sputtered. “Perhaps we should—I mean, there’s really no need for— I think we should—oh dear.”
“What’s the matter, Mr. Baker?” Lucy asked sweetly. “Yes, Mr. Baker,” Talia asked. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Everything is fine. Though, I think it would be a good idea if we all stick together.”
“As much as we can,” Arthur said easily. His slacks were too short for his legs again. His socks were purple. Linus was doomed. “Though, I think most of them will get bored inside the record store, and who better to help Lucy choose music than you? Children, did you remember your allowances?”
All of them nodded, except for Chauncey, who wailed, “No! I forgot! I was too busy getting dressed! Now I’m broke, and I have nothing.”
“Luckily for you, I figured that to be the case,” Arthur said. “Which is why I gave yours to Zoe.”
Chauncey immediately calmed, looking up at Arthur in adoration.
Arthur looked down at his watch. “If we end up going our separate ways, plan on meeting up at the ice cream parlor at half past two. Agreed?”
Everyone agreed.
“Then let’s go!” Arthur said cheerfully.
Lucy and Talia immediately reached up and took Linus’s hands.
“Do you think there’s a graveyard here, Mr. Baker?” Lucy asked. “I would like to see it, if there is.”
“I told you I should have brought my shovel,” Talia muttered. “How am I supposed to dig up dead bodies without my shovel?”
Perhaps Linus was going to live to regret this after all.
|
As much as Linus tried to avoid it, they managed to separate from the group after approximately three minutes and twenty-six seconds. Linus wasn’t quite sure how it happened. One moment, they were all together, and the next, Talia grunted something in Gnomish that seemed to express extreme happiness, and they were pulled into a store, a bell chiming overhead as the door closed behind them.
“What?” Linus asked, glancing over his shoulder to see the others continuing down the street. Arthur winked at him before continuing on. “Wait, maybe we should—”
But Talia wasn’t to be deterred. She pulled from Linus’s grasp and marched forward, muttering to herself in Gnomish.
“Oh no,” Lucy moaned. “Of all the places we could have gone into, she picked the worst.”
Linus blinked.
They were in a hardware store.
And Talia was pacing in front of a display of gardening equipment, stroking her beard and inspecting each trowel and spade and fork hoe. She stopped and gasped. “These are the new B.L. Macks! I didn’t even know they were out yet!” She reached out and pulled a queerly shaped spade from the display, the handle adorned with imprints of flowers. She turned and showed it to Linus. “These are the top-rated spades in Garden Tools Monthly! I didn’t think they were going to be released until next spring! Do you know what this means?”
Linus had no idea. “Ye-es?”
Talia nodded furiously. “Exactly! Just think! I can buy this, and we can go to the graveyard like Lucy wanted! I can dig up so many things with this!”
“Don’t say that so loudly!” Linus hissed at her, but she ignored him, proceeding to mime digging as if getting used to the grip and heft of the spade.
Even Lucy seemed interested. “It’s a little small,” he said doubtfully. “How are you going to dig up an entire grave with that little thing?”
“It’s not about the size,” Talia scoffed. “But what you do with it. Isn’t that right, Mr. Baker?”
Linus coughed. “I—that’s quite right, I suppose.”
“And I’m a gnome, Lucy. You know how well I can dig.”
Lucy nodded, looking relieved. “Good. Because we might have to dig up at least three or four bodies—”
“We’re not digging up any bodies,” Linus snapped. “So get that idea out of your heads right now.”
“We’re not?” Talia asked, looking down at the spade. “But then what’s the point?”
“The point? The point of what?”
“Going to the graveyard,” Lucy said, tugging on his hand. “We’re not going to the graveyard!”
Talia squinted up at him. “But you said we could.”
“Oh no,” Lucy moaned. “Is he going senile? He’s so old, he’s losing his mind! Help! Please, someone help us! This man who is supposed to be watching us is going senile and I worry what he might do!”
A squat woman appeared down one of the aisles looking worried, a smudge of dirt on her forehead, gardening gloves on her hands. She held a pair of pruning shears. “My goodness, what’s going on? Are you all … right…?”
She stopped when she saw Talia with the spade. She looked slowly over to Lucy, who grinned at her, showing many teeth.
She took a step back. “You’re from the island.”
“Yes,” Talia said in a no-nonsense voice. “And I’d like to talk to you about the B.L. Macks. When did they come in? Are they as good as their rating suggests? They seem to be lighter than I expected.”
“We’re going to the graveyard,” Lucy added in an ominous monotone. “Do a lot of people die here? I hope so.”
The woman’s eyes widened.
“We’re not,” Linus said hastily. “Talia here has the most beautiful garden that is well cared for. Why, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen something so immaculate.”
It didn’t appear to do much to calm the woman, though Talia preened. “Thank you, Mr. Baker!” She looked back at the woman. “You can’t tell by the way he dresses, but sometimes, Mr. Baker has good taste.”
The woman nodded, head jerking up and down. “That’s … nice.” She cleared her throat. “A garden you say? On the island? I thought it was…” She blanched.
Talia cocked her head. “You thought it was what?”
“It … uh. Doesn’t matter.” She glanced quickly at Linus before very obviously forcing a smile on her face. “Tell me about your garden, and I’ll see if I can figure what would be right for you.”
“Oh no,” Lucy groaned. “Now she’ll never stop talking.”
Talia ignored him as she launched into a very thorough explanation of her garden. In fact, it was so thorough, Linus thought she was going over it inch by inch. And while he secretly agreed with Lucy, he remained focused on the shopkeeper, watching for any sign that she was just humoring Talia in order to get them to leave.
Though that certainly seemed to be the case at the beginning, the woman began to relax and interrupted Talia, asking questions about pH levels in the soil, and what kinds of flowers and plants she grew. The woman seemed impressed with Talia’s knowledge and what she had created.
Eventually, she said, “While the B.L. Macks are considered top end, I’ve found they tend to wear down quicker. Someone like you”—she coughed—“who knows what they’re doing, might do better with the Foxfaires. They’re sturdier and don’t cost quite as much. It’s what I use here in the shop and at home.”
Talia put the spade back on the shelf almost reverently. “Foxfaires?
Garden Tools Monthly said they—”
“Garden Tools Monthly?” the woman scoffed. “Oh, my dear child,
Garden Tools Monthly is now the Garden Tools Weekly of the garden tool
world. It’s all about the Garden Tools Bi-Monthly. It’s what all serious gardeners read.”
Talia gasped. “It is?” She glared up at Linus. “Why didn’t I know this?
What else has been kept from me?”
Linus shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea what’s going on.”
The woman squinted at him. “Are you all right, sir? Are you senile?” Linus sighed as Lucy cackled.
|
The total, after being rung up, was astounding. Linus had never spent so much on gardening tools in his life.
Talia smiled up at the woman. “Can you excuse me for a moment?” The woman nodded.
Talia turned away from her, smile disappearing. She looked frantic. She grabbed Linus’s hand and tugged on it, pulling him down. “I don’t have enough,” she whispered. “And we can’t push her down and steal it, right? Because that’s wrong.”
“We absolutely cannot push her down and steal it,” Linus said.
Lucy rolled his eyes. “I knew you were going to say that.” He frowned and then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a handful of crumpled bills. He held it out to Talia. “Is that enough, you think?”
Talia shook her head. “No, Lucy. You can’t. Those are for your records.”
Lucy shrugged. “I know. But not all of them are broken. And the ones that did break were my fault anyway. You can have it.”
“Put your money away,” Linus said quietly. “Both of you.” “But, my tools—”
He stepped forward to the counter, dropping their hands as he pulled out his own wallet. He smiled weakly at the woman as he handed her his Diners Club Card, something he only used in emergencies. She placed it on top of the imprinter and snapped the handle over for the receipt.
He heard whispering behind him and glanced back, wanting to make sure that they weren’t actually planning on robbing the garden store.
Instead, he found Talia smiling, her eyes wet as Lucy wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
The woman cleared her throat, and Linus turned back around. She handed him his card and started to bag up the tools. Linus felt Talia step beside him, reaching up to the counter, waving her hands as she couldn’t quite see over it. The woman handed her the bags.
She hesitated. Then, “This garden of yours. It sounds lovely.” “It is,” Talia replied without a trace of ego.
“Would it—I like to take pictures of the gardens here in Marsyas.” She pointed toward a cork board on the wall with photographs of different gardens. “From the people who shop here. Every garden is different, I think. They reflect the personalities of those who care for them.”
“There are no dead bodies in our garden,” Lucy said helpfully. “But other than that, it’s pretty much exactly like Talia.”
“That’s good to hear,” the woman said faintly. She shook her head. “Perhaps—if it’s all right with your Mr. Baker here—perhaps I could come out and see your garden one day? In the spring, when things are blooming? Or sooner, if that would be all right.”
“Yes,” Talia said, eyes sparkling. “Oh yes. Except, it wouldn’t be Mr. Baker. You’ll need to ask Arthur. But I’m sure he’ll be okay with it. Mr. Baker is here to make sure we aren’t starving or getting beaten or being kept in cages. He goes home soon.”
Linus turned his head toward the ceiling, asking silently for guidance. “Oh,” the woman said. “That’s … good?”
Lucy nodded. “So good. But Mr. Baker isn’t all bad. I mean, sure, I tried to scare him off the island when he first arrived, but now, I like that he’s alive and not … the other way.”
Linus sighed.
“Wonderful,” the woman said weakly. “Lovely to hear. I’ll send word to Arthur when I can make the trip.”
Talia gave her a dazzling smile. “I hope you’re prepared to be amazed.
My garden makes all those ones on your picture wall look like crap.”
It was time to go. “Thank you,” Linus said stiffly as he grabbed the children by the arms and began to pull them from the store.
“Bye, plant lady!” Lucy screeched. “See you real soon!”
They were outside back in the sunlight when Linus was able to breathe again. But before he could speak his mind, he was surprised when his right leg was wrapped tightly in a hug. He looked down to find Talia holding on to him. “Thank you, Mr. Baker,” she said quietly. “That was very nice of you.”
He hesitated, but then reached down and patted the top of her head through her cap, something he wouldn’t have dared to do even a few days ago. “Think nothing of it.”
“He’s so wonderful and generous,” Lucy said, spinning in a circle on the sidewalk, arms outstretched for reasons Linus didn’t understand. “And I hope he remembers to do the same for me, so I don’t have to spend my own money and feel left out and have to open a pit to hell and watch this village be swallowed whole. Because that would just be so easy.”
Linus barely had time to wonder why Lucy’s threats didn’t scare him as much as they once had before they were on their way.
|
“Far out,” the man in the record store breathed, eyes glazed and bloodshot. He had long hair that fell on his shoulders and he looked as if he could use a bath.
Which meant, of course, that Lucy was entranced. “Far out,” he agreed. He’d managed to climb onto the countertop, and was sitting in front of the man—“Call me J-Bone, can ya dig?”—on his knees. There was another man in the back of the store, watching them warily.
“You’re, like…” J-Bone made an explosion noise, spreading his hands wide.
“Yes,” Lucy said. “That’s me. Boom.”
J-Bone—Linus distrusted him immediately for having such a name, honestly—looked down at Talia, who was sitting on the floor of the record store, humming as she inspected each of her new tools. “Little dude’s got a beard. And she’s a lady-dude.”
“It’s very soft,” Lucy said. “She has all these soaps for it. They smell like flowers and girly stuff.”
“Righteous,” J-Bone said. “Respect, lady-dude.” “This is a trowel,” Talia said. “It’s mine.”
“Cool.” He turned back to Lucy, who was only inches from his face. “What can I get you, little dude?”
“I require records,” Lucy announced. “My others were broken after I had a bad dream about getting eaten by spiders, and I need to replace them. Mr. Baker is going to pay for it, so we can spare no expense.”
J-Bone nodded. “I don’t know what you just said, but I heard records, and records I can do.” He nodded toward the man standing in the back. “Me and Marty can hook you up.”
“You smell funny,” Lucy said, leaning forward and sniffing deeply. “Like … plants, but not like any that Talia has in her garden.”
“Oh, yeah,” J-Bone said. “I grow and smoke my own—”
“That’s quite enough of that,” Linus said. “We don’t need to know anything about your extracurricular activities.”
“Who’s the square?” J-Bone whispered.
“Mr. Baker,” Lucy whispered back. “He’s here to make sure I don’t burn anyone alive with the power of my mind and then consume their souls from their smoking carcass.”
“Rock on, little dude,” J-Bone said, offering a high five which Lucy gladly accepted. “I mean, I hope that doesn’t happen to me, but you do you.” He tossed his hair back over his shoulder. “What are you looking for?”
“The Big Bopper. Ritchie Valens. Buddy Holly.” “Whoa. Old school.”
“It keeps the spiders in my head away.” “I can dig it. You like the King?”
Lucy scoffed as he bounced on his knees. “Do I like the King? Of
course I like the King. I think my real dad met him once.” Linus chose not to ask a follow-up question to that one.
“Real dad, huh?” J-Bone asked, leaning forward on the counter. “Yeah.” Lucy’s eyes shifted side to side. “He’s … not around.” “Deadbeat?”
“You could say that. He’s got a lot going on.”
“Oh, man, I get that. My dad doesn’t think I’m doing anything with my life, you know? Thinks that I should be doing more than the record store.”
Lucy was scandalized. “But—but the record store is the best place
ever!”
“Right? He wants me to be a personal injury attorney like him.”
Lucy pulled a face. “My real dad knows a lot of personal injury attorneys. Trust me when I say, you’ll be better off here.”
“That’s what I think. Ever heard of Santo and Johnny?”
“‘Sleep Walk’ is my jam, man!” Lucy exclaimed. “But I don’t have that
record.”
“You’re in luck. Because I think I got one copy left in the back. Let’s see if we can find it.”
Lucy jumped off the counter as J-Bone came around. They began to walk toward the back of the store. “Yo, Marty!” J-Bone said. “Got a little dude looking for some golden oldies. Let’s see if we can help him out.”
“Righteous,” Lucy exclaimed, staring adoringly up at J-Bone. “Goldie oldies!”
Marty didn’t speak. He just nodded and turned to walk farther into the store.
Linus didn’t like how far away they were getting from him. He glanced down at Talia. “I’m going to make sure they’re okay. You all right staying here by yourself?”
She rolled her eyes. “I am two hundred and sixty-three years old. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t leave the store.”
She ignored him, going back to lovingly tracing her new tools with a finger.
Lucy, J-Bone, and Marty were out of sight. Linus followed where they’d gone. Around the corner near the back of the store was a door that had been shut. Linus tried to open it, but found it locked. He frowned and pressed against it again.
It didn’t budge.
From inside came a cry and a loud crash.
Linus didn’t hesitate. He threw his weight against the door. He heard it crack in its frame. He stepped back and rushed forward, crashing into it with his shoulder.
The door burst off its hinges, falling onto the ground.
Linus almost stumbled but managed to catch himself at the last minute.
Inside, he found Marty slumped against the far wall. J-Bone stood above him, a disgusted look on his face.
Lucy was flipping through records stacked in a crate. “What happened?” Linus demanded.
Lucy looked up at him and shrugged. “Oh, he started talking about Jesus and God and that I was an abomination or something.” He nodded toward the unconscious Marty. Around his neck hanging on a chain was an ornate silver cross. “He tried to shove that in my face.” Lucy laughed as he shook his head. “What does he think I am, a vampire? That’s silly. I like crosses. They’re just two sticks put together, but they mean so much to so many. I tried making a symbol out of Popsicle sticks that I could sell and get rich, but Arthur said it wasn’t right. Look, Linus! Chuck Berry! Righteous!” He crowed in excitement as he pulled a record up from the crate.
“So not cool, man,” J-Bone scolded the unconscious Marty. “Like, for real. Music is for everyone.” He nudged Marty’s leg. “Whoa. Total knockout. Little dude, you are hardcore.”
“So hardcore,” Lucy agreed.
Linus glanced down at Marty again. He was breathing. He’d probably wake up with a headache and nothing more. Linus thought about giving him another bump on the head with a well-placed kick, but his shoulder hurt, and he had exerted enough energy for the time being. “Did he hurt you?”
Lucy looked up from the Chuck Berry record. “Why do you sound like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re mad. Are you mad at me?” Lucy frowned. “I didn’t do anything, really.”
“He didn’t,” J-Bone said. “Marty is so fired, you don’t even know.”
Linus shook his head. “I could never be mad at you. Not for this. If I sound angry, it’s at this … this man, not you.”
“Oh. Because you like me, huh?”
Yes. God help him, yes. Very much so. All of them, really. “Something like that.”
Lucy nodded and went back to the crate. “I found six I wanted. Can I get six?”
“Six it is.”
He walked over to Lucy to help him carry the records he’d found before he dropped them. They left Marty on the floor and went back to the front of the shop—
Only to find Talia’s bag of tools on the floor. But no Talia.
Linus’s heart was in his throat. He had turned his back for just a second
and—
He saw her standing at the front of the store, looking out the window. There was a little girl outside on the sidewalk, no more than five or six years old. She was smiling, her dark hair in twin braids on her shoulders. She put her hand against the window. Talia did the same. Their hands were the same size and matched perfectly. Talia laughed, and the girl smiled.
She smiled, that is, until a woman came running up the sidewalk, snatching her away, a horrified look on her face. She held the girl against her, turning the girl’s head against her shoulder. She glared at Talia through the glass. “How dare you?” she snapped. “You leave my daughter alone, you freak!”
Linus stepped forward angrily. “Now, see here—”
But the woman spat wetly at the window and then turned and hurried away, the little girl held tightly against her chest.
“That lady was mean,” Lucy whispered to Linus. “You want me to throw her against the wall like I did Marty? Would that be righteous?”
“No,” Linus said, pulling Lucy along. “That would not be righteous. The only time you should do that is if you need to defend yourself or others. She was vicious, but she only used words.”
“Words can hurt too,” Lucy told him.
“I know. But we must pick and choose our fights. Just because someone else acts a certain way, doesn’t mean we should respond in kind. It’s what makes us different. It’s what makes us good.”
“Big man is right,” J-Bone said, coming up behind them. “People suck, but sometimes, they should just drown in their own suckage without our help.”
Linus was positive that wasn’t what he meant at all. He wasn’t very happy with his new nickname either.
Talia was still standing at the window. The woman’s spittle dripped down the glass. Talia didn’t seem too upset, but he couldn’t be sure. She looked surprised when Lucy and Linus appeared beside her.
“That was weird, huh?” she said. She shook her head. “People are strange.”
“Are you all right?”
She shrugged. “The girl was nice. She said she liked my beard. It was just the old lady who was a jerk.”
“She—the woman wasn’t—”
“I know what she was or wasn’t,” Talia said lightly. “I’ve seen it before. It’s awful, but it’s not anything I’ve haven’t dealt with. But it’s funny, right?”
Linus didn’t find anything about this to be humorous. “What is?” “That there’s so much hope even when it doesn’t seem like it.” He was gobsmacked. “How do you mean?”
“The little girl. She wasn’t scared of me. She was nice. She didn’t care what I looked like. That means she can make up her own mind. Maybe that woman will tell her I’m bad. And maybe she’ll believe it. Or maybe she won’t believe it at all. Arthur told me that in order to change the minds of many, you have to first start with the minds of few. She’s just one person. But so is the lady.” Talia grinned. “Can we go to the graveyard now? I want to try out my spade. What did you get, Lucy?”
“Chuck Berry,” Lucy said proudly. “I also threw Marty against the wall!”
“Cracked the plaster and everything!” J-Bone said with a laugh. “It was gnarly.”
“Wow,” Talia said, suitably impressed. “Is he dead? Do we need to bury him? Let me go get my tools, and we can—”
“Nah, he’s not dead. I didn’t think that would make Mr. Baker too happy, so I let him keep his insides on his inside.”
Talia sighed. “Probably for the best. I really like Chuck Berry. I can’t wait to listen to that one.”
“Right? It’s so righteous!” He looked up at Linus. “Can we pay for these now? We can’t steal them because J-Bone isn’t a square. Right?” He sounded as if he would still be okay with stealing them regardless.
“That’s right, he’s not a square,” Linus said, vowing silently to never repeat those words again. “We can pay—”
“Nah,” J-Bone said. “Your money’s not good here. You get those for free, little dude. Sorry about the whole Marty-trying-to-exorcise-you thing. Give me some skin.”
Lucy did and gladly. “Linus! I get them for free! That’s even better than stealing!”
Linus sighed. “That’s not … I don’t know why I even bother.”
“Such a square, big man,” Lucy muttered, but he knocked his shoulder against Linus’s hip, as if to show he didn’t mean it.
|
At half past two, they met the others in front of the ice cream parlor. People were giving them a wide berth and staring openly, but none of the children seemed to notice. They were listening to Chauncey, who appeared to be wearing a different hat than he’d been before. He was flailing excitedly while Zoe and Arthur watched him, looking amused.
“There they are!” Chauncey exclaimed. “Lucy! Talia! You’ll never believe what happened! Look what I got.” He lifted the hat off his head, stalks stretching excitedly as his eyes rose. In his tentacles, he held a familiar cap that looked like—
“He gave it to me,” Chauncey cried. “I didn’t have to ask! All I did was tell the bellhop I thought he was the greatest man who ever lived and that when I grew up, I wanted to be just like him, and he gave it to me. Can you believe that?” He set it back on his head. “How does it look?”
“Quite dashing,” Linus said. “I almost wish I had a suitcase so I could hand it off to you to carry for me.”
Chauncey squealed. “You mean it? You really think so?”
“It looks good,” Lucy said, patting the top of the hat. “Maybe we can figure out how to make a matching coat for it. I think I like it better than your other hat, though that one is good too.”
“Thanks, Lucy! Always at your service!”
“And just what do you have?” Arthur asked, squatting down as Talia and Lucy showed him their treasures. “Ah! What a lovely spade. And those records! We’ll have to listen to them as soon as we get back to the island.”
“Everything all right?” Zoe asked quietly, while the children were distracted.
“If you’re asking if any felonies were committed … sort of. But nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Anything we need to worry about?”
Linus shook his head. “We’ll talk about it more once there aren’t so many little ears around. I don’t think they need to know what Lucy—”
“I threw a square named Marty against a wall after he tried to exorcise me in a small locked room! And then I got the records for free from J-Bone! Isn’t that righteous?”
“Oooh,” the rest of the children said. Linus sighed.
“I think it’s time for ice cream,” Arthur said.
|
The ice cream parlor was cheerfully old-fashioned. There were red plastic swivel seats lining the front of the counter, and Little Richard was wailing overhead about a girl named Sue, tutti frutti, oh Rudy. It was brightly lit, the walls painted candy red and pink. A bell tinkled as they walked through the door.
A man was facing away from them, bent over a counter behind rows of tubs of ice cream in various colors and consistencies. He turned, a smile already growing on his face and said, “Welcome! What can I—” The smile faded. His eyes widened.
The children pressed their hands against the glass, looking down at the ice cream. “Whoa,” Phee said. “I’m going to get every kind at once. I’m going to get absolutely sick of ice cream.”
“You can pick out two flavors,” Arthur told her. “Nothing more. You don’t want to spoil your appetite for dinner.”
“Yes, I do,” she assured him. “I want to spoil it so bad.” “You’re—you—” the man behind the counter sputtered.
“Yes,” Linus said. “I am me. Thank you for noticing. Children, please form a line. One at a time, so the gentleman isn’t overwhelmed—”
“No,” the man said, shaking his head furiously. “Absolutely not. You need to leave.”
The children fell quiet.
Before Linus could speak, dread beginning to flood through him, Arthur beat him to it. “Come again?”
The man was turning red. A vein throbbed in his forehead. “I don’t serve your kind here.”
Zoe blinked. “Excuse me?”
The man pointed at a wall. There, ever present, was a familiar poster.
SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING!
“I reserve the right to refuse service,” the man said. “To anyone I choose. I see something, I say something. And I’m saying there is no way you’re getting anything from me.” He glared at Theodore, sitting on Sal’s shoulder. “You aren’t welcome in my shop. You aren’t welcome in this village. I don’t care how much we’re paid to keep quiet. Go back to your damn island.”
“You shut your flapping mouth!” Linus snapped. “You don’t get to—” “I do,” the man retorted, slamming his hands on top of the counter. It
echoed loudly around them and—
Theodore squawked angrily as his perch suddenly vanished. The clothes Sal had been in suddenly collapsed as he shifted into a Pomeranian. Linus remembered the first time he’d done that, when Linus had first arrived on the island. It had been done out of fear.
This man had scared Sal so much, he’d turned into a dog.
There were pitiful yips coming from the pile of clothes as Sal struggled to get free. Phee and Talia bent over to help him as Theodore flew over to Zoe. Chauncey moved to hide behind Linus, peeking out from around his legs, his new cap almost falling to the ground.
Lucy looked down at Sal, whose front paws were caught in his shirt. Phee and Talia were whispering quietly to him, telling him it was all right, to stop moving so they could get him free. Lucy turned back toward the man behind the counter. “You shouldn’t have scared my brother,” he said in a flat voice. “I can make you do things. Bad things.”
The man opened his mouth to snarl, but was interrupted when Arthur Parnassus said, “Lucy.”
Linus had never heard Arthur sound the way he did right then. It was cold and harsh, and though it was just a single word, it felt like it was grating against Linus’s skin. He looked over to see Arthur staring at the man behind the counter, eyes narrowed, hands flexing at his sides.
The man behind the counter didn’t seem to be afraid of the children. But he was afraid of Arthur.
“How dare you?” Arthur said quietly, and Linus thought of a tiger hunting. “How dare you speak to them that way? They’re children.”
“I don’t care,” the man said, taking a step back. “They’re abominations.
I know what their kind is capable of—”
Arthur took a step forward. “You should be more worried about what
I’m capable of.”
The room felt warmer than it’d been just moments before. Much warmer.
“Arthur, no,” Zoe said. “Not here. Not in front of the children. You need to think this through.”
Arthur ignored her. “All they wanted was ice cream. That’s it. We would’ve paid and they would have been happy, and then we would have left. How dare you, sir!”
Linus stepped forward in front of Arthur. He turned away from the man behind the counter to look up. He took Arthur’s face in his hands. He felt like he was burning from the inside out. “This isn’t the right way to go about this.”
Arthur tried to jerk his face away, but Linus held on. “He can’t—”
“He can,” Linus said quietly. “And it’s not fair. At all. But you need to remember your position. You need to remember who looks up to you. Who you care for. And what they’ll think. Because what you do here, now, will stay with them forever.”
Arthur’s eyes flashed again before he slumped. He tried for a smile, and mostly made it. “You’re right, of course. It’s not—”
The bell above the door tinkled again. “What’s going on here?” Linus dropped his hands and stepped back.
“Helen!” the man behind the counter cried. “These—these things won’t leave!”
“Well. They don’t appear to have gotten their ice cream yet, Norman, so I should expect not.”
It was the squat woman from the hardware store. She still had the smudge of dirt on her forehead, though she’d divested herself of her gardening gloves. She didn’t look pleased. Linus hoped they weren’t going to have more trouble.
“I’m not serving them,” Norman growled. “I won’t.”
The woman—Helen—sniffed daintily. “That’s not up to you to decide. I would hate to bring up at the next council meeting how you’re turning away potential customers. Your lease is coming up for review after the new year, isn’t it? It’d be a shame if it wasn’t renewed.”
Linus thought the vein in Norman’s forehead was about to burst. “You wouldn’t do that.”
Helen arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to find out?” “I won’t do it!”
“Then go into the back and I’ll handle it.” “But—”
“Norman.”
Linus thought Norman was going to argue further. Instead, he glared at the children and Arthur again before he spun on his heels and stomped through a swinging door. It slammed against the wall.
Helen sighed. “What a daft little bitch.”
“I want to be just like you when I grow up,” Talia breathed in awe. Phee stood next to her, nodding in agreement. She held Sal in her arms, his face pressed against her neck.
Helen winced. “Oh. Ignore me. I shouldn’t have said that. Never curse, children. Understood?”
They nodded, but Linus could already see Lucy mouthing daft little bitch in glee.
“Who are you?” Zoe asked suspiciously.
She smiled at her. “I own the hardware store. I had the most delightful discussion with Talia here about gardens earlier today. She was most knowledgeable.”
“Helen is also the mayor of Marsyas,” Arthur said. Whatever had been burning within him appeared to have subsided. He had his composure back and once again looked calm.
“There is that,” Helen agreed. “Arthur, it’s nice to see you again.” “The mayor?” Talia asked. “Do you do everything?”
Linus had to agree. He hadn’t expected that.
“You would think so,” Helen said. She glanced at the door, still swinging on its hinges. “And apparently that includes cleaning up after men throwing their snits. Honestly. For all their bluster, I’ve noticed that men melt so very easily. Little snowflakes, they are.”
“I don’t,” Lucy told her seriously. “I was going to make him think his skin was boiling off before you got here. But I’m still a man.”
Helen looked astonished, but recovered quickly. “Well, I’m glad I showed up when I did. And I think you have a ways still yet to go before you’re a man. But I have hopes you will be a better man. You’re certainly in good company.”
Lucy grinned up at her.
She clapped her hands. “Ice cream! Isn’t that why you’re here?” “You can serve ice cream too?” Talia asked.
Helen nodded as she walked around the counter where Norman had been standing. “It was my first job. I was seventeen. It was a different parlor back then, but I expect I still know how to work a scoop. It’s how I know Arthur here. He would come in here when he was a child.”
That got Linus’s attention.
“Arthur was a child?” Phee asked, astonished.
“Why would you think otherwise?” Arthur asked, taking Sal from her. “I don’t know. I … guess, I always thought you looked like you do
now.”
“Oh, that’s almost certainly true,” Helen said. “He dressed the same, at least. Like the world’s smallest adult. Always polite. He liked cherry flavor the most, if memory serves.”
Everyone turned slowly to stare at Arthur. Even Linus.
Arthur shrugged. “I liked how pink it was. Children, in a line. Linus, would you help Sal, please? I think he’d like that.”
Linus could do nothing but nod dumbly. His mind was racing, and he had so many questions he could barely think straight. Chauncey handed him Sal’s clothes. He carried them under his arm as Arthur handed Sal over.
Sal was shaking, but he curled against Linus.
“There’s a restroom behind you,” Helen said as Lucy began to ask her if the pistachio flavor had any bugs in it. “For some privacy.”
“Thank you,” Arthur whispered as he stroked a finger down Sal’s back. “For what?” Linus asked.
Arthur met his gaze. “You know what. I shouldn’t have let that man get to me the way he did.”
Linus shook his head. “It wasn’t—I didn’t do anything.”
“You did,” Arthur said. “Even if you don’t believe it, I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You’re a good man, Linus Baker. I’m so very pleased to know you.”
Linus swallowed thickly before he turned toward the restroom.
It was unisex and efficient, with a sink and a toilet. He set Sal’s clothes down and leaned his back against the wall.
“It’s okay,” he said to the trembling dog in his arms. “I know it can be scary, sometimes. But I also know that Arthur and Zoe would never let any harm come to you. Neither would Talia or Phee. Or Theodore or Chauncey or Lucy. In fact, I think they would do just about anything to keep you safe. Did you hear when Lucy called you his brother? I think all the other children feel the same.”
Sal whined softly, his nose cold against Linus’s neck.
“It’s not fair,” Linus said, staring off into nothing. “The way some people can be. But as long as you remember to be just and kind like I know you are, what those people think won’t matter in the long run. Hate is loud, but I think you’ll learn it’s because it’s only a few people shouting, desperate to be heard. You might not ever be able to change their minds, but so long as you remember you’re not alone, you will overcome.”
Sal barked.
“Yes, he was a daft little bitch, wasn’t he? Now, I’ll stand outside the door and wait for you to change back and get dressed. And then we’ll go out and get some ice cream. Though I probably shouldn’t—not good for the waistline, after all—I’ve got my eye on the mint chocolate chip. I’ve earned a little treat; I think you have too. How about it?”
Sal wiggled in his arms.
“Good. That’s better. And if you ever feel scared like this again, there is no shame in changing as you have, so long as you remember to find your way back.” He set Sal down. Sal wagged his little tail at him. “I’ll be right outside.”
He walked out the door, shutting it behind him. He heard what appeared to be the snap and pop of bone, followed by a heavy sigh. Out in the shop, Lucy, Talia, and Phee were sitting in a booth. Lucy somehow already had ice cream in his hair. Chauncey was carrying his paper bowl toward them, bellhop cap sitting jauntily on his head. Zoe was standing next to the table, holding up a spoon to Theodore, his tongue flicking out, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.
Arthur was standing at the counter, speaking quietly to Helen. Linus watched as she reached over and put her hand on his.
“Okay,” a voice said through the door. “I’m ready.” “Good,” Linus said. “Let’s see, then.”
The door opened. Sal looked a little sheepish, hand rubbing against the back of his neck.
“There we go,” Linus said. “Right as rain.” Sal nodded, averting his gaze. “Linus?” “Yes?”
Sal’s hands tightened into fists. “What did he mean?” “About?”
Sal glanced up at him before looking away. “He said … he said he doesn’t care how much he gets paid to keep quiet. What did that mean?”
Of course Sal had picked up on that. Linus hesitated, trying to find the right words. “He … It’s foolish, really. But you’re special, the lot of you. And if the world knew how special, they might not understand. It’s for your safety.”
Sal nodded, though he looked troubled. “Hush money.”
Linus sighed. “It would appear so. But it’s not important. You let me deal with it, won’t you? Let’s get you fed.”
Helen was startled at the sight of him. She squinted at him, then back at the bathroom, then at Sal again. “That was you?”
Sal’s shoulder tightened.
“That’s so wonderful,” Helen said. “Just when I thought I’d seen everything. You get three scoops, I think. A growing boy of your size deserves it. What flavors would you like?”
Sal looked surprised. He glanced at Linus. “Go ahead,” Linus said. “Three scoops for you.”
He picked out his flavors carefully, voice barely above a mumble. Helen cooed over him, causing him to smile at his shoes. When she handed over the bowl, he thanked her quietly before heading toward the table. The others cheered at the sight of him, scooting over to make room. He sat next to Lucy, putting an arm over his shoulders and pulling him close. Lucy laughed and looked up at him, eyes bright. Sal’s arm stayed right where it was as they ate.
“I was just asking Arthur here about coming to see Talia’s garden,” Helen told him. “I hear it’s quite the sight.”
“It’s very beautiful,” Linus agreed. “She worked hard at it. I’m sure she would like to show it off. She already thinks you walk on water.”
Helen laughed. “I suppose.”
“But I do have to ask. Why now?” She looked taken aback. “Pardon?” “Linus,” Arthur warned.
Linus shook his head. “No. It’s a fair question. It’s not as if the orphanage is anything new. Some of the children have been there for some time. You’ve apparently been here for some time.” He looked at Helen. “Why now? Why haven’t you gone there before? Why did it take seeing the children here before you came to that decision?”
Arthur said, “I’m sorry. He’s very protective—”
Helen held up a hand. “He’s right, Arthur. It’s a fair question.” She took a deep breath. “And I have no excuse. Perhaps I allowed my perception to become … colored. Or perhaps it was out of sight, out of mind.”
“See something, say something,” Linus muttered.
Helen frowned as she glanced at the poster on the wall. “Yes. That. It’s
—unfortunate. We get trapped in our own little bubbles, and even though the world is a wide and mysterious place, our bubbles keep us safe from that. To our detriment.” She sighed. “But it’s so easy because there’s something soothing about routine. Day in and day out, it’s always the same. When we’re shaken from that, when that bubble bursts, it can be hard to understand all that we’ve missed. We might even fear it. Some of us even fight to try and get it back. I don’t know that I would fight for it, but I did exist in a bubble.” She smiled ruefully. “Thank goodness you popped it.”
“I shouldn’t have had to do that,” Linus said. “They shouldn’t have had to do that.”
“No, they shouldn’t have. And though I’m just one person, I ask for forgiveness for that. I promise that I won’t allow it to happen again.” She glanced over her shoulder at the door Norman had disappeared through. “I’ll do my best to make sure that everyone in the village understands that all of the children from the orphanage are welcome at any point. I don’t know how well that’ll go over, but I can be very loud when I need to be.” Her eyes were twinkling when she added, “I wouldn’t want to be thrown against a wall.”
Linus winced. “Marty?”
“Martin,” Helen said, rolling her eyes. “Came and told me all about it. My nephew is an idiot. J-Bone fired him as soon as he regained consciousness. I would have done the same.”
“I won’t disagree with you there.” He hesitated. Then, “Do you think he’s going to be a problem?” At the very least, if word got out, he could see Extremely Upper Management wanting to get involved. Perhaps they’d even summon Lucy before them. It wasn’t unheard of. Linus wasn’t sure if he feared for Lucy or Extremely Upper Management more. Most likely the latter if he was being honest with himself.
“Oh,” she said. “Don’t worry about Martin. I’ll deal with him myself.”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that would entail. “Will he listen?”
She snorted. “I oversee his trust from his parents, may they rest in peace. He’ll listen.”
“Why?” he asked. “Why would you do anything at all?”
She reached out and took his hand in hers. “Change comes when people want it enough, Mr. Baker. And I do. I promise you that. It may take some time, but you’ll see. Today has been a swift kick in the seat of my trousers.” She squeezed his hand and let go. “Now. What flavor would you like?”
“Cherry,” Linus said without thinking.
She laughed. “Of course you do. Two scoops, I think.” She sang a quiet song as she went to give him just that.
Linus looked up to find Arthur staring at him. “What?”
Arthur shook his head slowly. “I don’t know why you can’t see it.” “See what?”
“You. Everything you are.”
Linus shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not much, but I try with what I have.” Then, “I—I shouldn’t have pushed. Making you all come here like I did. I should have listened to you.”
Arthur looked amused again. “I think it all worked out. Some bumps in the road, but it’s nothing we couldn’t handle. Lucy didn’t actually kill anyone, so I call that a win.”
“Two scoops of cherry,” Helen announced. “For each of you.” It was bright pink with little bits of red fruit. “On me.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—” Arthur started.
She waved him off. “Think nothing of it. It’s the least I can do. All I ask is that you let me come to the island to see that garden.”
“Gladly,” Arthur said. “Whenever you’d like. You can stay for lunch.”
She smiled. “Sounds perfect. Perhaps the week after next? I have an employee, but he’s on vacation this week, so it’s just me. I’m sure that you and Mr. Baker here will be consummate hosts—”
“I’m afraid it’ll just be me and the children,” Arthur said, picking up his ice cream. His voice had taken on a strange lilt. “Linus will be leaving us a week from today. Thank you for the ice cream, Helen. And for being so kind.” He turned and walked to the table.
Linus frowned. He’d never seen Arthur be so dismissive before. “You’re leaving?” Helen asked, sounding baffled. “Why?”
Linus sighed. “It’s an assignment for DICOMY. My stay here was always going to be temporary.”
“But you’ll come back, won’t you?”
Linus looked away. “Why would I? After I make my recommendation, there’d be no need. My job will be done.”
“Your job,” she repeated. “That’s all this is to you? A job?” “What else would it—”
She reached out and took his hand again. This time, her grip was firm. “Don’t. You can lie to yourself all you want, Mr. Baker, but don’t you try to lie to me. I won’t stand for it. You project yourself in a certain light, but even in my shop, I could see right through the facade. The way you stood up for the children only cemented that. You know what else.”
“It’s not my home,” Linus admitted quietly. “I live in the city.”
Helen scoffed. “A home isn’t always the house we live in. It’s also the people we choose to surround ourselves with. You may not live on the island, but you can’t tell me it’s not your home. Your bubble, Mr. Baker. It’s been popped. Why would you allow it to grow around you again?”
She turned and hollered for Norman, disappearing through the swinging door, leaving Linus staring after her. His ice cream was beginning to melt.
|
The man in the post office barely acknowledged his presence. He only grunted while Linus paid to have the report mailed off.
“Anything for me?” Linus asked, tired of this display.
The man glared at him before turning and digging through a plastic box, riffling through envelopes. He pulled out a large one this time. It was much thicker than any other mail Linus had received while on the island. He frowned when the man handed it over.
It was from DICOMY.
“Thank you,” Linus said, distracted. The envelope was heavy and stiff when he picked it up. He left the post office.
He was in the bright sunshine. He took a deep breath. The others were back at the van waiting for him. He shouldn’t open it now, but … he had to know what was inside.
He tore the top of the envelope carefully.
There was a file inside, much like the ones he’d been given when he’d been sent to the island. The file didn’t have a name on the tab. It was blank.
The first page was a cover letter.
He pulled it out, and blinked when something fell onto the sidewalk, bouncing onto his loafer.
He looked down.
It was an old metal key.
He bent down and picked it up. It was lighter than he expected. The cover letter said:
DEPARTMENT IN CHARGE OF MAGICAL YOUTH MEMO FROM EXTREMELY UPPER MANGEMENT
Mr. Baker:
Thank you for your second report. It was thorough, as always, and quite enlightening. The descriptions of the daily lives of the children gave us plenty to consider.
However.
We do have some concerns.
As you’ll recall, we asked previously for a more in-depth look at Arthur Parnassus. And while you did provide that to us, we couldn’t help but notice that it appeared to be less … objective than we expected. In fact, the entire report is unlike any other you’ve written. You were chosen for this assignment, in part, because of your impartiality. You were able, even in the face of adversity, to maintain a degree of separation from the children and people you were investigating.
That doesn’t seem to be the case here.
We would caution you against this, Mr. Baker. People will say and do anything they can in order to appease those in power. It’s a weapon, and one that is wielded quite deftly. Those who aren’t immune to such things might find themselves thinking in ways they shouldn’t.
Your time on Marsyas will end shortly. You will return to the city. You will be given another assignment, and this will occur all over again. Shield your heart, Mr. Baker, because that is what they go for first. You cannot allow yourself to lose sight of what is real here. You must remain objective. As we’re sure you’re aware, the RULES AND REGULATIONS dictate that any and all relationships formed must remain completely professional. You cannot be seen as being compromised, especially if there is evidence that an orphanage needs to be closed in order to protect the children.
We can, admittedly, say that we may have underestimated how susceptible you might have been to such attentions from someone like Mr. Parnassus. Seeing as how you’re unmarried, we can understand how you might be feeling confused or conflicted. To that end, we want to remind you that DICOMY and Extremely Upper Management are here for you. We care about you. Upon your return from the island, we’ll require you to attend a psychological evaluation. For your own peace of mind, of course. The well-being of our caseworkers is of the utmost importance. You are the lifeblood of DICOMY, and without you, there would be no us. There would be no hope for the children. You matter, Mr. Baker.
To assist you in making sure your thoughts are in order and in an effort to be fully transparent, we have enclosed a semi-complete file on Arthur Parnassus. He is, as you’ll soon see, not who you think he is. The Marsyas Orphanage is an experiment of sorts. To see if someone of his … demeanor could be in charge of a group of unusual children. To keep them all in one place in order to protect our way of life. The island is well-known to him, seeing as how he grew up there in an orphanage that was once closed down because of him. This report is for your eyes only. It is not to be discussed with anyone else, including Mr. Parnassus. Consider it classified level four.
In addition, you will find enclosed a key. If the locks haven’t been changed, this should open the cellar door hidden in the garden. It will give you insight as to what Arthur Parnassus is truly capable of.
Soon, Mr. Baker. You will be coming home soon.
We look forward to your next report and your final debrief upon your return.
Sincerely,
 |
CHARLES WERNER EXTREMELY UPPER MANAGEMENT
