Kingdom Keepers: The Syndrome (28 page)

MATTIE

“I’m supposed to try to
reach
him,” I said, disbelieving, “not
read
him?” Jess, Amanda and I had slept in. I felt half-human again.
We were assembled with Joe in a bland room inside the Burbank studio lot that held all three comatose boys on cots. We were told some Imagineers were currently across town collecting Charlene.

“We’re thinking that between his crossover and immediately after Amanda’s kiss, there ought to be some kind of mental gap for you to slip in,” Joe said. “You pass
Finn the image of Tia Dalma. Not that I know what I’m talking about.”

We all chuckled.

“I’ve never tried to reach.”

“I understand that.”

“What if I can’t?”

“We go to Plan B.”

“Which is?” I asked.

“To
B
determined!”

Amanda groaned, making Joe laugh aloud at his own joke. An instant later, he apologized.

“Seriously, though,” he said. “Guys, at this point, what’s there to lose?”

JESS

My job in all of this was to “dream” what was going through Finn’s head when Amanda kissed him. “I don’t know if I can force a dream. I’ve
tried it before, but it’s pretty unreliable,” I warned.

Forcing a future dream of
mine
was difficult enough. Forcing a future dream for someone else? I wasn’t even sure it was possible. Forget doing it on cue.

Besides, I wasn’t positive I wanted to see Finn’s half of a kiss with Amanda. The thought of eavesdropping on something so personal made me uncomfortable at best.

AMANDA

Joe used his phone as the countdown clock. I watched the screen without blinking, which gave me an excuse for the tears that formed. Wherever Finn was, he needed me, needed us.
At least for the next twelve hours, we had only this one chance.

Being a professional, Joe hid his concern well, but there was no denying the truth. The presence of Tia Dalma in Walt’s apartment altered everything. The Keepers were no longer just
missing; they were at risk. Not from a former school bully, but from a witch doctor capable of horrific crimes, including the murder of Dillard Cole and, as one of the leaders of the Overtakers,
Wayne Kresky.

It didn’t take a lot of imagination to wonder who would be next.

Eleven fifty-nine.

Memories, I often felt, were my friends. I could sometimes select which ones to view and which to ignore. But tonight, my memories of Finn and me became a stew of fun and fright. Every time I
would think of something pleasant, Maleficent, Judge Frollo, or a tiger would jump into my brain and scare me half to death. All of the Keepers’ stories lived inside me.

Joe’s plan, for my kiss to “shock” Finn at the moment of crossover, filled me with hope and dread in equal measure. For one thing, I had no idea whether or not it could
possibly work. More worryingly, what if it did work, but I shocked him at the wrong moment? If we’d had the slightest clue as to where he and the other Keepers had crossed over, things would
have been easier. But in that moment, I was terrified.

Ten…nine…eight…

I leaned over and hovered my lips above his. Not long ago, it would have made me nervous—the idea of kissing him—but now it was different. I thought about
Sleeping Beauty
. I
thought about Disney. I thought about “true love’s kiss.”

Our lips barely touched. I felt a small shock, almost like electricity.

His eyes came open.

I screamed.

MATTIE

As Amanda leaned in to kiss Finn, I grabbed his hand, summoned my strength, and reached.

I envisioned Tia Dalma and thrust the image out of me, like shouting a word. Finn’s fingers moved. I screamed, dropped his hands, and nearly passed out.

Then, taking a deep breath, I cracked an eye open just in time to see Finn’s body twitch. I had no idea if I’d caused that or if Amanda had, but I liked what I saw.

A twitch. And if I wasn’t imagining it: a scowl on his otherwise placid face.

JESS

As the clock struck midnight, a flash of light flooded my vision. I was vaguely aware of Mattie muttering “Tia Dalma”—and then I was swallowed up in a flood
of images.

Wayne, but a young Wayne, the young man we’d seen in the picture, stood in front of some kind of submarine, which filled the background behind him.

That image was replaced by Amanda’s face. Then nothing.

AMANDA

“I think it worked,” Jess told Joe. She described a flash of light and what she’d seen, including my face.

“I didn’t see any submarine,” Mattie said. Her voice told me she questioned Jess’s report.

I didn’t say anything. Finn’s eyes opening and closing had dropped me to the floor, bawling. I felt horrible for being so emotional. But in that moment, he had seen me, and I’d
seen him, and I didn’t care what anybody said about it. I knew what I knew.

Joe sounded put off as he addressed Jess. “You’re saying you saw young Wayne and a submarine?”

“Yes.”

“Can you draw it? The submarine?”

“Of course she can draw it,” I answered for her.

“I need paper,” Jess said. “A pencil or—”

Joe extended a pen. “Right there on the sheet. That’s fine.”

“Seriously?”

“Please.”

Jess began to sketch.

JESS

I sketched out the image on the sheet, narrating as I drew. “It was like a tube, but with a bulge on the top. And little circles along the sides. Windows, I
suppose.” I completed my sketch. “I think it’s a submarine.”

Joe came around the side of the bed. Disbelief spread across his face as he took in my sketch. “That’s impossible! That ride hasn’t been run forever.”

I shrugged. I realized long ago that nothing was impossible.

AMANDA

Joe’s mention of “forever” prompted an image not of submarines, but of the blue soy can and its contents.
Time.

“The time capsule!” I whispered. Then, more loudly, “I’ll be right back!”

I took off running. Downstairs. Along the empty streets of the backlot. Into our temporary dorm. I found my backpack. I dug out the soy can.

Though tempted to dump its contents, I held myself back, repeating the Keepers’ credo to myself.
Team first
.

More stairs. The same empty street. Climbing, out of breath, gasping. Finally, I burst into the Keepers’ dorm. Dropping to my knees, I spilled the contents of the can onto the floor in a
messy pile and fished out the photo.

“What’s going on?” Joe said.

“Mandy,” Jess said, “we’ve looked at that stuff a hundred times.”

“Reading glasses,” I said, addressing Joe. “Do you wear reading glasses?”

“I have a magnifying app on my phone,” he said.

So there we were, the four of us, on our knees around a bunch of ancient toys and a cigarette lighter, looking at the photo through Joe’s phone app.

“Amanda,” Mattie said, as my eyes filled once more with tears. I wasn’t seeing anything new. But I’d been so
sure
! “The one Willa’s mom sent. Remember?
She said it was higher resolution?”

I felt like a bell had gone off in my head. I had my phone out and the photo open within seconds. My hands shook so badly Joe took it from me.

“She said to use a bigger screen,” Jess reminded us.

“This screen is fine,” Joe said.

With the image greatly expanded, only a small piece of it showed on the screen. Joe moved it carefully from right to left, and then dragged it up.

Screen by screen, we examined the photo. When we reached Wayne, we paused. At this resolution, you could actually see a vague resemblance to the older man we’d known. Joe stayed there a
little longer than expected, perhaps flooded with his own memories.

“More,” I said gently. “Maybe Wayne’s the only reason Finn gave us this, but I don’t know…the minute you said forever, something told me we were supposed to
study every inch of the photo.”

And so we did, with no complaints. Screen by screen. Carefully. Scientifically. Joe in control. For ten or even fifteen minutes I felt frozen.

A long time ago, Wayne told us that the best place to hide things is out in the open. We’d looked at the photo too many times to count, but never at this resolution, this definition.

Joe wasn’t moving the screen anymore. He’d landed on a spot well back in the dense crowd. Children waving. Adults posing. American flags. Mickey Mouse ear hats.

The Kingdom Keepers.

There was no questioning it. This was them. Side by side. Cheering.

Joe mentioned something about Photoshop, but his voice gave him away—he didn’t believe that any more than we did.

“July seventeenth, 1955,” Jess whispered. “It’s not possible.”

“A time capsule,” Mattie said. “Finn was telling us all along, don’t you see? A time capsule! He wanted us to know they’d gone
back in time
.”

“As DHIs,” Joe gasped. “Tesla. How could…? It’s impossible.”

“If you can dream it,” I muttered.

The three of them looked up at me. I could feel their gaze without actually meeting their eyes.

“Nineteen-fifty-five,” Joe repeated. “You understand: there’s no way this is possible.”

I nodded faintly. “I know. But then…explain this.”

Carefully, I widened the image slightly, zoomed in on the space between the heads of Finn and Willa, who stood shoulder to shoulder. The picture became grainy again.

“What is that?” Mattie breathed.

Jess answered. “It’s Finn’s right hand. He’s holding something. He’s looking right into the camera and he’s smiling and he’s holding
something.”

I wasn’t going to claim he was looking right at me. But I knew what I knew.

Joe had figured it out, too. You didn’t get much past Joe. He fished the empty notecard envelope out of the pile of stuff on the floor.

In the photo, in the space between the two heads, in Finn’s right hand, was a rectangular piece of paper. It had been written on, though we’d never be able to read it.

My note. The note that belonged in the envelope addressed to me.

Joe spoke aloud the truth that was haunting us all.

“They were in Disneyland on Opening Day, 1955.”

“With Wayne,” Jess said.

“And Walt,” Mattie added.

“Finn,” I gasped through more tears. “What are they doing there?”

“Perhaps not even they know,” Joe said.

“But Wayne knew, or he wouldn’t have sent them.”

“Wayne is there with them,” Joe said.

“We solved it!” Jess said. “That’s what’s important. We can project them now. We know where they are and that at least for now they can’t return.”

“Or don’t want to,” I said, feeling my throat knot.

“We don’t know what they want, but hopefully they know Tia Dalma’s part of it now.”

“I miss them,” I blurted out.

“You saved them,” Joe said. “All three of you.”

“And you got rid of Greg Luowski for us!” Mattie chimed in. “Thank you for that.”

“Good riddance,” I said.

“You should be proud of yourselves,” Joe said. “For now, the Keepers are safe, and you’ve warned them of potential trouble. Not bad for a trio of Fairlie
Humans.”

Jess started to laugh first. Then Mattie. Finally I joined in, though the tears I shed were not tears of laughter. I looked at the grainy black-and-white photo and the card held in Finn’s
hand. A card meant for me.

I wonder what it said, and I wondered if I’d ever find out.