Once Upon a Toad (11 page)

By the time I finally got home, I had a bad case of the droops. I needed to talk to someone. I'd promised not to use the phone or computer, but I was feeling desperate. I went directly into my father's office and turned on his computer, then sent A.J. an instant message.

Please be there,
I thought as long seconds ticked by. Finally the cursor blinked.

What's up?
he messaged back.

I need your help.
Typing as fast as I could, I poured out the entire story. Everything. From the first toad that plopped into my cereal bowl yesterday morning to Olivia's flowers and gems.

When I was done, the screen stayed blank for a long time. So long that I thought maybe there'd been some sort of computer failure. And then—

No way.

Yes way
, I replied.

Gotta see it to believe it. Does your dad's computer have a webcam?

Yeah.

We quickly set up a video chat. We do this all the time at home, too, even though the D'Angelos' condo is only two floors away. A minute later A.J.'s face appeared on-screen. I'd never been so relieved to see anybody in my entire life.

“You're kidding, right?” he said, grinning his familiar gap-toothed grin at me. “This is some sort of a joke.”

I shook my head.

“C'mon, Cat. Toads? Stuff like that doesn't really happen.”

I gave a snort of nervous laughter. Out popped a toad. A.J. stared at it in disbelief.

“Freaky, right?” I replied, producing another one.

His mouth dropped open. “You are seriously creeping me out.”

“I'm not doing it on purpose,” I snapped back. “It's not like I can control it or anything. It just … happens.”

A trio of toads leaped from my lips to the keyboard as I said this. I glanced down at them ruefully.

“Oh. My. Gosh,” said A.J. “What are you going to do?”

“That's why I'm talking to
you
, dork!” I replied. “You're the genius—find me a cure.” I picked up the wastebasket from beside the desk as I said this and started sweeping for toads.

A.J. is supersmart. He had an internship at NASA last summer, working with his dad in the computer department. I, on the other hand, went to band camp and watched old sci-fi movies. At least while I was in Houston.

“Right. I'll just google ‘spontaneous toad eruptions,'” A.J. said
sarcastically. I shot him a look and he sighed. “Let me do some research. I'll see what I can find out. But, Cat?”

“Yeah?”

“You've got to tell your mom.”

After we signed off, I checked my e-mail. There were two from my mother, one wanting to know how the visit with Great-Aunt Aby went, and another asking how Hawkwinds was going.

I'll be cheering you on from afar tonight at the talent show! Break a leg! Or a reed, or whatever. You know what I mean. I love you!

A.J. was right. I probably should tell my mother what was going on.

If I did, though, the first thing she'd do was tell my dad and Iz, and then Olivia would find out, and she'd tell Piper Philbin, and the whole school would know in a heartbeat. It wasn't difficult to imagine how Olivia's Reign of Terror would expand after that. I'd be begging for the good old days of “Catbox,” that's for sure. Not only would Olivia invent some new, more horrible nickname for me, she'd probably rat me out to the Health Department and personally spearhead the campaign to get me expelled from school. And then the media would get ahold of the story, and I'd be hounded out of Portland and most likely the whole state. Maybe even the country. I'd have to go live in the woods, like Sasquatch. Life would not be worth living if Olivia found out.

So I still couldn't tell my mom. Not just yet.

CHAPTER 9

“There's nothing physically wrong with her,” said Dr. Douglass later that afternoon, tapping her pencil thoughtfully against the chart on her clipboard.

My dad and Iz were sitting across from me in the examination room. I was perched on the padded table, decked out in one of those embarrassing paper robes that crinkle every time you move.

“But she hasn't spoken a word for two whole days!” Iz protested.

Dr. Douglass nodded. “I understand,” she replied. “May I speak to you two in private for a moment?” She turned to me. “We'll be right back, Cat. You can get dressed if you'd like.”

If I'd like?
Crinkle
. I slid off the table the second they left the room and made a beeline for my clothes.

A moment later the door opened and a nurse popped her head in.
Crinkle
. I jumped back, clutching the paper robe
to my chest and wishing I weren't standing there in my underpants.

“Oh, excuse me, honey,” she said. “I just came in for your chart.”

I pointed wordlessly to the table where Dr. Douglass had left it. The nurse took it and left the room again, not quite shutting the door behind her. The murmur of voices from the office on the other side drew me like a magnet.

“It's nothing to be overly worried about at this point,” I heard Dr. Douglass say. “Let's keep a close eye on her, though. She's exhibiting symptoms consistent with those of a selective mute. It could be related to any number of things—separation from her mother, perhaps, who is, after all, in outer space. That would certainly make me anxious, if I were twelve.”

“I suppose you have a point,” my father replied.

“Or it could be related to Olivia's, shall we say,
unusual
condition,” Dr. Douglass continued. “That, too, must be a bit traumatic.”

“More than a bit,” said Iz glumly. “For all of us, in fact.”

“How did your appointment at the research hospital go?” Dr. Douglass asked.

“They'd never seen anything like it before,” Iz told her. “They wanted to keep Olivia there for a few days to run some tests—”

“But Iz didn't like the way the staff were eyeing her, uh, output,” my father added. “So we brought her home.”

“Well, what did you expect me to think after that lab assistant slipped a diamond into his pocket?” Iz replied indignantly. “I don't think he would have given it back if I hadn't said anything.”

“I'm sure it was just an oversight,” replied my father.

My stepmother snorted. “Timothy Starr, you can be so naive sometimes!”

I couldn't help wondering what the specialists at the research hospital would make of me. Somehow I couldn't picture anybody wanting to pocket my toads.

“Look on the bright side,” said Dr. Douglass. “At least you know you'll be able to pay for Olivia's treatment.”

My father laughed uneasily.

I pondered Iz's point as I pulled on my jeans and T-shirt. It hadn't occurred to me that other people might try and take advantage of Olivia's weird talent, but what Iz was saying made a lot of sense.

“I just thought maybe a few people were a little more interested in the gems than they were in Olivia,” my stepmother continued, sounding defensive.

“It's only natural that you want to protect her until this all gets sorted out,” Dr. Douglass said soothingly. “If Olivia were my child, I'd have brought her home too. As for Cat, I recommend that you continue to treat her as you always have, and give her lots of reassurance. She's a normal, healthy young lady who simply has a lot going on in her life at the moment.”

You have no idea,
I thought. Selective mute! I could show Dr. Douglass in two seconds flat just how mute I was, but I didn't think toads would be very welcome in her office.

“If the condition persists, I'll give you a referral to a therapist,” Dr. Douglass continued, “but my guess is she'll be right as rain in a few days.”

“And the talent show?” asked my father.

I held my breath. I really didn't want to let the Hawkwinds down.

“I don't see any reason she can't participate. Olivia, either, although I would stress the importance of not broadcasting her current situation.”

“So we'll be sending two mutes onstage tonight?” said Iz. “I'm not so sure about that.”

“How about I write a note excusing them both from speaking?” Dr. Douglass offered. “Given the unusual circumstances, I don't mind stretching the truth a bit.” I heard her scribbling. “There you go — Olivia and Cat are now officially afflicted with a rare form of laryngitis.”

I heard the three of them getting up from their chairs and raced back across the room. I hopped up onto the examination table and pasted an innocent look on my face just as Dr. Douglass entered the room.

She gave me a big smile. “So, young lady, I understand you're scheduled to play a little Bach tonight?”

I nodded.

“I wish I could be there to hear it. What's the piece you're playing?”

I took my notebook and pen from my rain jacket pocket.
The Fugue in G Minor,
I wrote.

Dr. Douglass's eyebrows shot up. “Ambitious for a middle school quartet.”

Iz put her arm around my shoulders. “My stepdaughter plays with the Houston Youth Symphony,” she said proudly, giving me a squeeze.

I almost told them everything right then and there. Almost.

The ride home was quiet. Dad and Iz both seemed lost in thought,
and I was determined not to give in to the temptation to spill the beans. Toads. Whatever. It didn't matter how nice my stepmother was—my stepsister wasn't, and that was the problem.

We stopped to pick up a pizza for dinner. Nobody was in the mood to cook. Back at the house we found Geoffrey all by himself in the living room, happily building a LEGO castle. At first I thought he was humming something by Mozart—the Twelve Variations—then realized it was the tune to “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”

“Where's your sister?” Iz asked, glancing around. Olivia was supposed to be babysitting. She'd obviously been there, because the rug was strewn with flowers. Plus, a line of diamonds glittered at us from atop my little brother's fortress walls.

Geoffrey pulled his finger out of his mouth and pointed upstairs. Iz marched over to the foot of the stairwell. Dad and I were right behind her. A laugh rang out, and then we heard Olivia squeal, “No way, Piper! You really said that to him?”

My stepsister was on the phone.

Iz drew herself up into the full mad-mom pose, hands on hips and mouth in a thin, flat line. My mother uses the exact same one when she's ticked off at me. They must teach it at mom school.

“Olivia Jean Haggerty!” she hollered.

“Um, I'll get dinner on the table,” said my father, backing away with the pizza boxes and disappearing into the kitchen. It was no fun being around when Iz got mad.

“Yes, Mom?” Olivia called back, her voice dripping sweetness and light and who knew what else.

“Come down here this minute, young lady!”

My stepsister appeared at the top of the stairs.

Busted,
I thought, suppressing a grin. It might be stupid and childish, but I still get a kick out of it when she gets in trouble.

Iz held out her hand. Olivia slumped down the stairs and handed over her cell phone.

“Where did you get this?”

“Your dresser drawer,” Olivia replied in a low voice.

“You
promised
!” Iz said grimly, looking hurt and disappointed.

As usual my stepsister tried to weasel out of it. “I know I did, Mom, but I had to check with Piper about my math homework.”

Right. As if the two of them had ever discussed math in their entire lives.

Olivia's brown eyes filled with tears. “You can't expect me not to have any friends at all just because of this,” she said, pointing to the bouquet of wilted-looking lupine that now lay on the floor at her feet.

“What I expect is for you to keep your word when you give it,” Iz replied.

I felt a flicker of guilt. I'd broken my promise too.

My stepmother sighed. “I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation, Olivia. We need to keep this
completely quiet
until we find a remedy for you.”