Enchantment (5 page)

Holly couldn't say any of that, of course. Mad wouldn't appreciate hearing her opinion.

“Well, I hope you keep up the painting, even if it's on the side,” she said.

Mad glanced at her, quirking an eyebrow. “Thanks.”

Mad changed the subject, bringing up a movie they'd both gone to a week earlier. Holly had read the book and thought it superior, but she kept that to herself. The film version had still been fun, and picking it apart occupied them for an hour or so. Another hour of reminiscing about family road trips brought them to Alamosa, where they stopped for gas.

Holly went into the station and bought chewing gum, sodas, a bag of cheese puffs, and some mini-donuts while Mad filled the tank. When she got back Mad headed inside, and Holly hauled out her laptop case and extracted her library book.

“Mind if I read?” she asked when Mad came back.

Mad shrugged as she buckled in. “Sure.”

“Or I could drive for a while, if you want.”

“Nah. I might need you to talk to me later, keep me awake. The next stretch is kind of boring.”

“Just say the word.”

Mad popped open the soda Holly had bought her and took a long pull on it, then sighed. “You can read for now.”

Like Holly needed her permission. She'd just asked in order to be polite, and here Mad was getting all prickly. Ordinarily Holly would bristle in response, but she thought about Ohlan's patience and decided to let it go.

Ohlan. Was he wondering where she was? Hoping she would show up soon?

Holly bit her lip and opened the book,
A Secret Summer.
The introduction mentioned how the author, Amanda Cope, had worked as a secretary at the boys' school in what would become Las Palomas, and how when the place was taken over by the military she'd stayed on to work for the secret high-tech wartime project. This was plainly the book's main commercial appeal. Las Palomas was famous for that project even now, seventy years later, but back then almost nobody knew about the little boys' school up on the mesa.

Holly was more interested in descriptions of the area around Las Palomas. She flipped through the opening chapter about Amanda's parents and childhood, pausing only to note that the family had moved to Santa Fe when Amanda was six. When she got to the author's arrival at the boys' school, she slowed down.

We had often visited Taos and the little pueblos along the Rio Grande, but I had never been up to these mesas. No one lived there except the staff and students of the school, though some adobe ruins attested to previous residents in centuries gone by.

Holly knew the ruins she meant: the foundations of a house and a couple of outbuildings from a long-abandoned pueblo. The boys' school had been built near them, making use of the well that still gave good water, even today.

Was there a spirit in that well, she wondered? A friend of Ohlan's? She'd have to go check.

She read on, getting lost in Amanda's account of life at the school. The quick sketches of people were witty and sharp, and the descriptions of the school and the mountains, including many places Holly knew and loved, were vivid. Holly gave up on skimming for information and settled in to enjoy the book. She was just getting to the beginning of the summer of 1941, the season referenced by the title, when Madison slid a CD into the stereo and cranked up the volume.

Nine Inch Nails blasted Holly out of her book. She closed it, using a gum wrapper for a bookmark.

“Where are we?” she asked.

Mad, bobbing her head to the music, said, “About fifty miles from Walsenburg.”

Middle of nowhere, in other words. Holly looked out at flat plains dotted with sagebrush and juniper, then dug out the Colorado road map. Walsenburg was a pretty small dot.

“Is there a gas station there?”

“Don't need gas.”

“That's not why I'm asking.”

Mad looked annoyed. “There's a place we can stop.”

“Thanks.” Holly studied the map. “Where do you want to have lunch, Pueblo or Colorado Springs?”

“C Springs has better restaurants.”

“OK.”

Getting there would take two or three hours, at least. Holly wanted to read some more, but the music kept her from concentrating. She figured that was a huge hint, and tried to think of something Mad would want to talk about.

“What are your roommates like?”

It was the best she could come up with. Madison had hated living in a dorm, and halfway through her first year of college she'd found a place just off campus to rent with three friends.

“Well, you'll meet them,” said Mad. “They're cool. Sheila isn't there much; she works all the time when she isn't in classes. And Carla's usually in some play, so she's always out at rehearsal. It's really not as crowded as you might think.”

“Are there any good hikes close by? I mean, that you could walk to, like at home?”

“Sure. We're real close to the mountains. You'll see.”

The conversation limped along like that, mile after mile. Holly scrounged up more questions, and Mad answered them, but without a lot of enthusiasm. They'd been pretty good friends all through grade school, but since Mad had gone off to college they'd grown apart.

They reached the Interstate and turned north, after which Mad didn't need Holly to keep her awake. There was plenty of traffic for that, and the farther north they went, and hence the closer they got to Denver, the hairier the traffic became.

Holly took note of signs advertising Manitou Springs, and recalled some vague childhood memories of a visit there. A big drinking fountain; a street full of old-timey buildings, mostly shops. She remembered a candy shop. Was there a guardian spirit at that spring, or had humans driven it away with all their noise and bluster?

“You remember Manitou Springs?” she asked over burgers in Colorado Springs.

“Yeah. Kind of boring. You liked the North Pole better, kiddo.”

Mad's words recalled a stop at another place near Colorado Springs, with Santa's workshop, open year round. Holly grinned.

“Feeding deer.”

“And goats,” said Mad. “And the horse that could do math.”

“That was a trick.”

“Yeah, but it was fun when we believed it.”

Holly glanced at her sister, the perpetual skeptic. “Did you believe it, or were you just pretending for me?”

Madison paused before answering, poking her straw into her shake. “I believed it, back then. You believe stuff when you're little.”

But shouldn't when you're grown. Holly looked out the restaurant window at the trees in the shopping mall, wishing she could share her wondrous discovery with Mad, knowing her sister would never accept that Ohlan was real.

Maybe it was better to keep him to herself. She couldn't picture Mom or Dad being happy about her hanging around with a supernatural being.

“You done, kiddo? I'd like to get rolling, get through Denver before the dinner rush.”

Holly pushed the rest of her limp fries away. “Yeah. Just need a pit stop.”

They washed up and climbed back in the car. Madison put on a different CD, much more mellow. Holly was tempted to read some more, but decided to keep Mad company instead. That was why she'd come along, after all.

Traffic had thickened, and stayed that way. They didn't talk as much, because Madison needed to concentrate on driving. This was what she meant when she talked about all the people, Holly guessed. Too many people.

Madison had to drive through this every time she came home to visit. No wonder she had only come for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Holly was grateful she wouldn't have to make this trip back home. Mad would drop her at the Denver airport and she'd be in Albuquerque in a couple of hours, where Mom would pick her up. She wished it was going to be today instead of Wednesday.

Finally they got through Denver and left the Interstate. Traffic was still busy but less hectic. Holly admired the blue-white mass of the Rockies Front Range to the west, and the several small lakes they passed. The sun was dropping toward the mountains as signs for the University started showing up. Madison turned off into a residential area and pulled into a parking space in front of a row of townhouses.

“Here we are. Home sweet home.”

The building was blocky and modern looking. Uninviting. Holly wasn't impressed, but she kept her mouth shut as she slung her gym bag over her shoulder and followed Madison into the townhouse.

Apartment carpet smell greeted her. The carefully neutral colors of the furniture implied that it came with the place. To compensate, the walls were covered with bright posters—a mix of rock and roll, skiing, and theatrical—and some houseplants livened up the living room a bit.

“Anybody home?” Madison yelled. When no one answered, she turned to Holly with a shrug. “All out to dinner, probably. Usually we go out on weekends.”

With dates? Holly didn't ask. She didn't want to be too nosy.

“You can have your choice of the sofa or an air mattress in my room. Sofa's probably more comfortable, if you don't mind people coming through on the way to the kitchen.”

Holly stepped over to the sofa and pushed a hand against the seat. Madison joined her, pointing out a lever on the side.

“It opens into a bed.”

“OK,” Holly said, and set her bag down on an end table. She had the feeling Mad wanted her privacy.

Mad went into the kitchen and started banging around. Holly sat on the couch, tired even though she'd just sat in a car all day. She pulled a magazine from under her gym bag and flipped through the pages.

“Not much here for dinner,” called Mad from the kitchen. “There's some cheesy macs, or we can go out or go for groceries.”

“Cheesy macs are fine.”

“Good. I'll shop tomorrow.”

Holly put aside the magazine and went to the kitchen, where Mad was filling a saucepan with water. “Want me to fix it?”

Mad, who hated to cook, cast a grateful glance at her. “If you don't mind, that would be great. I need a shower.”

Holly picked up the pasta box. “Go ahead. This'll take about fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks, kiddo!”

Mad gave her a quick hug and left. Holly put the pan of water on the stove, then poked around in the refrigerator, looking for something to throw together as a salad. That was a failure; all that was in there was milk, beer, sodas, butter, the end of a loaf of bread, and a bunch of dried out scallions.

While she waited for the water to boil she hunted out the downstairs bathroom, then opened the blinds at the back of the living room to reveal a sliding glass door that gave onto an enclosed patio. Mountains loomed to the west, blue and beautiful. Holly stepped out to admire the dozen large pots that crowded the patio, all rioting with pansies and petunias. One of Mad's roommates must have a green thumb.

This was her favorite spot in thecompansate apartment so far. She sat in one of four lawn chairs and gazed at the mountains. Maybe she'd take Mad's air mattress and sleep out here.

Before she could get too comfortable, she went inside to check on the water and found it boiling. Added pasta, couldn't find a timer so she checked her watch.

Rummaging in the cupboards, she found a shot glass and filled it with water, then took it out to the patio and pinched off a few pansies to put in it. Purple and bronze went together nicely—three of the flower bowls had that combination, and Holly took a couple of blooms from each. She hoped the gardener wouldn't mind.

She put the flowers on the coffee table by the couch, then grabbed a soda from the fridge and returned to the patio. Peaceful out here. Gazing at the mountains made her think of Ohlan, though.

She winced. By now he would have realized she wasn't coming. She hoped he'd forgive her when she explained.

Sadness washed through her. This was why she hadn't wanted to come up here with Mad, why she wasn't hot to plan for college. She didn't want to leave Las Palomas, especially now that she'd found Ohlan.

Well, she was supposed to be planning her future, so she might as well start now. She thought long and hard about what it would be like if she
didn't
go to college.

First off, her folks would be angry. They'd given up a lot to save money for her education, and they'd be disappointed if she didn't use it. Even if she could make peace with them over that, what would she do in Las Palomas? Get a job in some store? That might be OK for a year or two, but for the rest of her life?

This raised the same old question: what did she want to do with her life? She didn't know, and she didn't want to think about it.

Remembering the pasta, she checked her watch, then jumped up and hurried to the kitchen. She'd caught it just in time, before the macaroni got too soft. She found a colander and drained it, then turned down the heat and fixed the cheese sauce. She was stirring in the pasta when Madison came in, rubbing her hair with a towel.

“Smells good!”

“It's ready. Want to grab some plates?”

They dished up and sat at a small round table in a nook off the kitchen. The window looked out toward the mountains.

Holly sprinkled a ton of pepper on her pasta, then took a bite and watched Mad. Her sister looked tired, and there was a small crease between her brows as she stabbed at her pasta.

“Um, do you have Internet?”

Mad looked up. “Oh, yeah. Pam set up a wireless network. I'll get you the key.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want to go to a movie or something after dinner?”

“I think I'd just like to relax, if that's OK.”

“Sure.” Mad smiled, which meant Holly had said the right thing. “Tomorrow we'll go to campus and I'll show you around. Anything in particular you'd like to see?”

Holly shrugged. “Not really.”

“Well, we'll look at the science department, at least. I'll need to stop at the bank, and hit the campus bookstore. There's a textbook I still need to get.”