Magic or Madness (13 page)

He had told her Reason didn’t know anything, but she was Esmeralda Cansino’s granddaughter, so Jay-Tee had found that hard to believe. And it had never occurred to Jay-Tee that there was anyone who
hadn’t
heard of the East Village. This was the most famous city in the world. She guessed Reason was still in shock from the cold, because her confusion was real. She was definitely not faking; Jay-Tee would’ve felt it if she was.

“South of Midtown.”

“Midtown?”

“East of the West Village.” This was kind of fun.

Reason’s face was blank. Seemed to Jay-Tee that it wasn’t just magic Reason didn’t know about. She didn’t know anything about anything. He was right; she was going to be
so
easy. “West of the East River,” Jay-Tee prompted. “Above the Lower East Side?”

Reason’s blankness didn’t shift. Jay-Tee had to suppress a giggle. She decided it was time to cut the kid some slack. After all, she was also supposed to be making friends with Reason. She put her mug down and held out her hand. “I’m Jay-Tee.”

“Reason.” She gripped Jay-Tee’s hand a bit too tightly, as though she was relieved to touch another human being, had been afraid maybe that Jay-Tee was a goblin or spirit or something like that.

“Weird name,” Jay-Tee said, because it really was.

“My mum’s mad.”

“Your
mum?
” Reason sure did talk funny. “Don’t you mean your
mom?
She called you that because she was mad at you?”

“My mother. I mean my mother’s mad.”

“Uh, whatever.” Her accent was totally whack. “You don’t sound Hispanic.”

Reason looked puzzled. “Hispanic?”

“Where are your parents from? Down south? Do they talk Spanish?”

Reason shook her head. “Sarafina’s from Sydney. She doesn’t speak Spanish. I don’t know where my dad’s from. But Sarafina reckoned he was from somewhere up north, not south.”

“Sydney, Australia?” Jay-Tee knew that, but she figured she should act surprised, not give anything away. She did
not
want him mad at her.

Reason nodded.

“Really not Hispanic?”

“No. My family’s Australian,” she said very definitely, “going back more than a century. On my dad’s side way, way more.”

“Then how come you’re dark?”

“My dad’s an Aborigine.”

“He’s a what?”

“An Aborigine,” she repeated, as if Jay-Tee was just supposed to know what that meant.

“I heard you,” Jay-Tee said, wondering again whether Reason really was nuts. Was she making this stuff up? It didn’t feel like she was. “But what does that mean?”

Reason frowned, like she’d never had to explain it before. “He’s one of the original people, from before the English came.”

“Huh?”

“In the olden days, when white people first came here, there were already people—”

“Oh! I get it. You mean like Indians with spears and loincloths and babies on their backs? So Aborigines aren’t white?”

Reason nodded slowly, and it felt like she was going to say something else before she finally said, “No, not white.”

That explained her looks. Maybe her weird way of talking was how Aborigines talked.

“How long you been in town?”

“I don’t . . . I just . . .”

The kid looked confused. He hadn’t been pulling her leg. Esmeralda Cansino’s grandchild didn’t know about doors. How did that work out?

“I don’t remember,” Reason said at last. “I was at home—in Sydney. Then I was here.”

She must have opened the door without knowing what would happen. “Maybe you were kidnapped and drugged. And they were going to do all sorts of unspeakable things to you, but you escaped. That would explain your face. They probably beat you up when they grabbed you.”

Reason shook her head. “That was me. An accident.”

Yeah, right,
thought Jay-Tee,
an accident.

“I was pulling up a rock and it kind of hit me in the face.”

Whatever.
“Here in the city?”

Reason nodded, then stopped. “Yes. In Sydney.”

For a second she didn’t look as confused.
She’s faking,
Jay-Tee realized. But her confusion before had been real. Had she only just remembered? Was she not sure of what was real and what wasn’t? But she knew about the door, about how she got here. Jay-Tee could feel it.

She’s going to give him more trouble than he thinks.
A large part of Jay-Tee was pleased. “You still could’ve been kidnapped and drugged after whacking yourself in the face.”

“I guess.”

“Why don’t I call the cops?” asked Jay-Tee, just to see what she’d say.

Reason looked alarmed. “That’s okay. Maybe I’ll figure out what happened. I mean if . . .” She trailed off.

Jay-Tee smiled as widely and invitingly as she could. Despite being exhausted, it wasn’t hard to smile; she’d just trapped Reason into as good as admitting that she knew how she’d gotten here. Why else wouldn’t she want cops?

“You can stay here,” she told her. “You sure look tired. It’s late. Almost morning. Why don’t I make up a bed for you and we’ll figure this out when we’ve both had some sleep?”

“Almost morning? What time is it?”

Jay-Tee looked at her watch. “It’s almost 1 AM.”

“One AM?” Reason repeated, sounding confused again.

“Yup. Time we got some sleep.”

Reason nodded, picking up her wet clothing. She seemed resigned to whatever Jay-Tee had to say, but Jay-Tee could feel her disbelief.

“That’s okay,” Jay-Tee said. “I can take those for you. I’ll hang them up to dry.”

She showed Reason to the second bedroom, hoping she wouldn’t notice that the bed was already made up for her. “The bathroom’s just next door and I’m in the other bedroom. Just knock if you need me.”

Reason turned to Jay-Tee, her eyes all wet again. “Thank you,” she said. “For everything. It was so cold. I could’ve . . . Thank you.” She blinked rapidly, then asked, “Do you remember where you found me? Could you take me back there?”

“Sure thing. If you think that’ll help. We can go after breakfast. Sleep tight, Reason.”

Jay-Tee put the fire out, scattering the remaining embers. She searched through the pockets of the shorts and pulled out a piece of wire, but no key. Well, that wasn’t a big problem. Wasn’t like there were many places Reason could hide it.

Or maybe she was like her grandmother and didn’t
need
the key. That would suck.

When I woke up,
I didn’t know where I was. I was completely awake, with no groggy feeling of being between sleep and awakeness, yet I didn’t recognise anything. Not the PJs I was wearing, or the single bed with white sheets, or the doona fallen to the ground. It was hot, which was odd, because I remembered being cold.

I slid out of the bed, pulled open the curtains. The world outside was white and grey. The sun was up. At least it wasn’t dark. It had been before, even in the afternoon. Somehow time had stopped working right. I pulled open the window and peered through the bars, trying to catch a glimpse of the sun, but there were too many buildings, the clouds too heavy. Was it morning? It didn’t feel like morning. Why were there bars on the window?

If I needed to get out of this room in a hurry, the thick bars would leave no exit except the door. Besides, the bars were icy. I shivered and hugged myself, then shut the window.

I remembered being colder than I’d ever been in all my life. A cold so cold it could kill you. That really was snow outside the window, smothering everything, even the sound of passing cars. What was this place?

There was a knock on the door. I jumped.

“Reason? You awake?”

I recognised the voice. The girl from last night who wouldn’t give me any straight answers. The girl who’d rescued me.

“Reason?”

“Yeah,” I called out after I’d slipped back into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Her accent was strange. I didn’t remember noticing that last night. She sounded foreign. Not like any foreigner I’d ever met before, but then, I’d only met a few, all of them backpackers out bush.

She came in carrying a mountain of stuff. I could hardly see her face behind it. There was nowhere else, so she dumped all of it on the end of the bed. The room was almost empty. There weren’t even pictures hanging on the blue walls. Besides the bed, there was a built-in wardrobe and a patterned rug in red and brown on the wooden floorboards. They weren’t as shiny as the ones at Esmeralda’s house. Nothing else. Not even a chair.

How did I get here? I had opened the door . . . then what? I shook my head. Thinking about it hurt.

I peered at the stuff. Clothing for me, I guessed, but the girl didn’t say anything. She was shorter than I’d realised. Even shorter than me, with curly black hair, damp, as though she’d just had a shower. When she’d rescued me, I’d thought she was a grown-up. Now she looked the same age as me. What was her name again?

“Hi,” I said cautiously, staying under the covers.

“Hi.”

“Are those for me to wear?” It seemed like a lot. Did she think I was moving in with her?

She nodded. I wished I could remember her name. It hadn’t been a real name, more like a nickname.

“Where are we?” I asked. “I didn’t really get that straight last night.” I was hoping she’d be a little more forthcoming than last night’s stream of gibberish: streets that were numbers, villages that were named after their directions, a make-believe world invented by someone with no imagination.

“East Village.”

I felt a surge of anger.
Never lose your temper,
Sarafina always told me. I closed my eyes, let the first twenty Fibs cascade through my mind, then opened them again, the anger gone. “And where’s that?” I asked.

“East of the West Village,” she said, as though this were obvious and I was a fool not to know it. She giggled and I had a strong urge to hit her. That or scream. She had rescued me, I reminded myself. I must not give in to my temper.

She rescued me from a snowstorm. My head hurt. How could there be snow? Jay, I suddenly remembered. Her name was Jay something.

“Jay,” I began, “what—”

“Jay-Tee. No one calls me Jay. That’s not my name. I’m Jay-Tee.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“That’s okay. You were pretty hazy last night. How do you feel now?”

“Hazy.”

“Any more ideas on what happened to you? Did you fall from the sky? Slip from the claws of a griffin?” She was grinning.

I didn’t know what a griffin was, but it sounded like a made-up creature. Unless it was a real-life inhabitant of the East Village. I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” I had just opened a door . . . but that made no sense. That couldn’t be what had really happened. I had to stay rational. Maybe Esmeralda had slipped me something, just as Sarafina had always warned me, and this was all an hallucination.

“You can have a shower if you want. If they shower where you come from. There’s a couple of towels in with the clothes.” She pointed at the mound of clothes on the bed.

“Thanks.” I’d think about it later. When my head didn’t hurt.

“Make sure you wear all of it, you know. You’ll want at least three layers. As well as scarf, gloves, and hat.” She picked up something red and green and woollen. I figured it had to be the hat. It was goofy looking, long and floppy like something a clown might wear. I hoped she was having a lend. “It’s really cold. The windchill factor’s off the charts. You especially want to cover your ears. They can fall off.”

I wondered what a windchill factor was. It did not sound good. It was hard to imagine wearing all that stuff at once, especially as it was toasty warm in the bed. “Is it winter?”

She looked at me as though I was insane. Actually, she’d been looking at me that way pretty much the whole time. I wondered if I was. “Yes, Reason, it’s winter. Snowstorms and freezing cold tend to indicate that.”

“Not where I come from,” I said softly so she couldn’t hear, then louder, “How cold is it, exactly?”

“Twenty-two. But the wind chill makes it feel way colder than that.”

I stared at her. How could it be twenty-two degrees? There was snow in piles everywhere outside, and it wasn’t melting. It
had
to be below freezing out there. Twenty-two should be pleasant, almost
warm.
“You mean it’s the
wind
that’s making everything so cold?”

“Uh-huh. If it weren’t blowing so icy, it wouldn’t be nearly so bad. You can keep wearing the same coat.” Jay-Tee looked at where I’d dropped it on the floor. “The boots you wore last night are out by the fire. They’re dry now. They seemed to fit you pretty good, yeah?”

I nodded, though I couldn’t remember if they’d fit or not. “Thanks.”

“Then breakfast? You must be hungry.”

I nodded again, though I hadn’t realised I was until she asked. I wondered how long it had been since I’d eaten. The last I remembered it was January, with winter six months away.

When she left, I looked around for the clothes I’d been wearing. They weren’t in the room. I went out into the living room. Jay-Tee wasn’t there, but my clothes were hanging to dry in front of one of the heaters.

I took the opportunity to have a little look around. Two exits: the front door and a large window in the kitchen that led onto one of those weird metal outside staircases. The window was covered by a metal grate. I couldn’t tell by looking whether it was locked or not.

Back in the living room, I found my shorts and T-shirt, the last clothes I remembered wearing. Somehow they’d made it with me from summer to winter, all the way here. Wherever “here” was.

“You still haven’t showered?” Jay-Tee asked.

I jumped. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound like she was. “Can you hurry up? I’m starving. Sooner you shower, the sooner we eat.”