Virginia Hamilton (16 page)

There was a hush as Justice took a deep breath and blew out every candle to wild applause. “Yay! Yay!” kids yelled. There were little cups of nuts and candy, and the kids were all having a good time. Well, who wouldn’t, with brothers and a mom and dad like hers?

And Levi coming up, ceremoniously putting a gold-crown hat on her head.

“Don’t anybody dare to spank me,” Justice said. “Don’t anybody dare!” And all the wildness of chasing her clear across and around the open field. To catch her and give her her birthday licks; and she outran everybody for about ten seconds, yelling her head off for them not to dare touch her. Then they all had hold of her and piled on her and held her down. They got their licks in, each and every one of them, all pulling their punches, with Mrs. Douglass standing over them, saying, “Now, not too hard, boys. Girls, you’re worse than the boys!” Justice knew, when they’d finished, she wouldn’t sit down good for the rest of the day.

Everybody tore away and left her lying there on the ground in the bluegrass, looking up at a forever sky, the kind her dad said was a California sky. It was a forever blue sky of no moisture, with just little sleeping puppies of clouds. Her dad said the sky and clouds arrived in Ohio country from westward by hopping a dawn freight train of the B&O Railroad.

“It’s hotter’n hell,” she cussed. “Boy, do I love this sunshine Saturday!”

Then she was up and on her feet. “Ow,” holding her behind. “Ooooh, too many of you all!” She stood a moment. The field was twice as big in the growing shade. She was close to that part bordering on the backyards of Dayton Street. She saw Dorian Jefferson’s yard with its low hedge. She wondered about his mom. “Bring her some cake tomorrow,” she told herself. “Don’t give any to Dorian to take home, I want to do it.”

She drank in the sight of the dark green hedgerow, thorny and ancient, twisted by hard weather. The hedgerow bordered the whole of the west property line. She loved the old trees; and spun around to see her favorite cottonwood tree across the field from the hedgerow.

The hedgerow, the cottonwood, the sky and land began to pulse and echo, and the very light of day was broken to pieces. Thomas’ drumming rolled out of the trees to hit her between the eyes.

“Oh!” she said as everybody called her to come back. Everyone sat around the tablecloths again. She saw they had cake on their plates as she came up, feeling like a fool to have become dazed in the head out there where everybody could see how dumb-crazy she could get.

Mrs. Douglass’ heart had sunk when suddenly Justice had stood so utterly still. A terrible fear had welled up. Mrs. Douglass thought maybe something—the Mal, they called it—had come out of the future. Or that Justice’s power was taking her over. She would have sworn that her children had come back exactly like themselves inside, with nothing of that other part of them—she wouldn’t allow herself even to think what it was for fear that by naming it she would somehow summon it. Her children had come home the way she’d raised them. Oh, they were changed, maturing. Wasn’t it odd how you noticed it all at once? But they were her own children now. She would make home the best place in the world in order to keep them. She didn’t know what she could do differently, but she would not even think about them leaving again.

There was a pile of presents next to what was left of the cake. “Well, for … My goodness!” Justice exclaimed.

“You have to sit at the head,” Levi told her. He was at one side of the longest tablecloth, with the presents in front of him. “I’ll toss ’em to you.”

She caught the first present and opened it. It was a nice card with a dollar bill in it from their friend Slick Peru. There were lots of cards with dollars in them. And she read all the cards out loud so everybody could feel proud. There was a pretty mother-of-pearl comb from Susie Mettfer. All of the presents were nice little gifts. She would have been embarrassed if anyone had given her too much. Nothing from her folks. They would wait until later, when all the kids had gone home.

Oh, boy! she thought, and opened a thin envelope that had written across it in ink, “From Your Big Brothers, Tom-Tom and Levi.”

It was a book of certificates. “Well, I’ll be!” She couldn’t believe it. “Gift certificates, fifty cents each,” she said, and flipped through the booklet. “A whole five dollars’ worth of McDonald’s!” They’d done this while she slept.

“All the Big Macs you can eat,” Levi said. Thomas’ drums gave rolling
POM-AH POM-AH’S
.

Justice giggled with glee. “Five whole dollars!” And laughed her head off, remembering the golden-arches illusion Thomas had made. She slapped the book a couple of times to make sure it was real. “Will the Big Macs
melt
in my mouth?” she asked her brothers, and winked outrageously, making sure they got her drift.

Levi grinned knowingly. Thomas listened to her with his head cocked to one side. He would glance at her, then away. Their eyes steadied on one another. Thomas was sure different today, she thought. Almost being nice. At least, he wasn’t being mean. They held the look a moment, but made no certain contact with each other. It was like feeling couldn’t come across between them.

Well, you can’t have everything on your non-birthday, Justice thought.

Her mom and dad brought out three flavors of ice cream and stuff to drink. Everybody got served and sat and ate, except Thomas, who preferred standing off by his drums. He ate slowly but steadily. Justice knew the moment he felt her watching him. She had a smile all ready, but he did not look up. He paused, fork not moving, then continued eating.

“We’re glad you’re back,” Talley Williams told her. Justice couldn’t believe he’d said that until she realized it must have been suggested, when they didn’t come back in a day or two, that they were on a trip of some kind.

But where did Mrs. Jefferson say we went? she wondered.

“Did you like the
Grand Canyon?
” Dorian said pointedly.

“Oh … oh, yes, we had a great time,” she said.

The party had to end. After the food was gone, kids drifted away. There would be no games with Thomas. After all, it was Justice’s birthday. A girl, Mary Lynn Logan, hung around Thomas. He kept playing his drums, but he gave her a look. It wasn’t a mean look, Justice noticed. It was piercing. A swift, hard look of interest.

Well, I’ll be! Justice thought.

Thomas wore his favorite hat, a purple toque with a large pink ostrich feather stuck in the band. He wore it like a prince. Imperiously, he stared Mary Lynn Logan down.

She was older than Justice, fourteen and some months. She lived in the neighborhood, loved to swim and once in a while rode bikes with Justice, if Justice could catch her on the street riding her bike. Mary Lynn stood there awash in Thomas’ gaze, blushing to the roots of her long, dark hair.

Justice felt a hot downdraft of air from the treetops. It caused her tangled curls to spring up around her ears. High up in the trees there was a wind sigh, just like the sound of crowds ah-ing from a long way away. For a split second she had the notion, as did Thomas and Levi at about the same time, that out of the ah-ing sound the Mal would come sweeping. It was the time of day for It, and the moment when It was the farthest from their thoughts. Yet they had thought of It. But there came no inkling of forces from beyond. And no threat came. They were alone and safe. They waited a moment longer, but they were still safe.

Thomas broke the spell by adjusting his hat to the proper angle, peering at Levi, his mirror.

Mary Lynn laughed at them, they were so alike. Then she was startled when she happened to think about the endless reflections the brothers must have of one another.

Thomas laid the four felt-tipped kettledrum mallets carefully on the calfskin drumheads. He passed Mary Lynn and sauntered down the field. A little way and he turned around to walk backward, hands in his pockets. His look beckoned her. “I’ll walk you home,” he was saying without uttering a word. Quickly, head down, Mary Lynn followed.

“Well, well, well,
well,”
Levi whispered in Justice’s ear.

Justice had to cover her mouth and jump up and down to keep from whooping out loud.

Thomas and Mary Lynn Logan. “Do you
believe
that?” she whispered back. She had never once thought of Thomas in terms of
girls.
Levi, sure. But Thomas? Well, the world had to turn.

They cleaned up the field, collecting paper plates and cups, plastic spoons and forks and soiled tablecloths, she and Levi working silently together. They were close now, as they had been ever since they’d come back. It was a different, respectful closeness after all they’d been through. Sunlight sparkled at them from behind the hedgerow. Shadows lengthened as they went back and forth.

“It was a good party,” she said. “A swell party.”

“A good and swell party,” he said, making light. He gave her an affectionate bonk on the head.

“You can go on in,” he said. “I’ll wait for him and help with the kettles.”

“Right,” she said. “Aren’t you glad we’re here?”

“Yeah, but I still can’t believe it,” he said. “I had my doubts we’d ever make it.”

“Me, too,” she said. “But now I’m going to let things take care of themselves. I wanted … wanted you to know that.”

“Justice, I know. I understand.”

He did know. Knew everything she was trying to say without saying it, quite. Even he wouldn’t say the exact words on this perfectly ordinary summer day. It could be the last one they would have. He was positive it was the final day that some part of them would enjoy doing the same things—Levi assisting Thomas in everything; Justice just plain old happy to be a part of their world.

“It’s all going to change, Justice,” he told her.

She listened to him, hardly breathing. His face wore an expression she had never before seen.

“I am the one who knows,” he said.

“You’re the one ...” Her voice trailed off as she groped to remember.

“Celester,” he said. “I’m the one he gave answers to about what will happen beyond.”

She could see the astonishment of knowing in his eyes. And he sat down near Thomas’ drums to wait for his brother.

Not today, she thought. I don’t want to know. She turned and went through the gate to the house.

T
HOMAS’ FEET PRESSED UP
against the underside of Levi’s bunk above him. His hands were locked behind his head. He was out of the covers, wearing cut-off pajama bottoms, and he was relaxed, as though he had on a bathing suit and was lying on a riverbank somewhere taking his ease in the sun. It was deep in the night and everyone was asleep except him. He was wide awake in the dark and grinning from ear to ear. Every now and then he boxed the black air in front of him, punching it down, patting it up and knocking it down again. He began laughing so hard without making a sound that he thought he was going to choke. Made his side ache so bad he had to give some time to kneading it until the pain went away.

He had a slight apprehension that if he were too gleeful, something might come get him in the night. But he really did feel safe at home. He was positive the Watcher had got the Mal. So what could harm him? He just had to make a decision, was all. He grinned again. What was nice was that every time he opened his mouth he got another chance to decide.

Maybe it’s supposed to be a punishment, he thought. Well, I think it’s a real riot!

He pressed his feet as hard as he could on the bunk above, pushing in between the slats until he made Levi stir. And he said out loud, but very quietly and distinctly: “Brother mine, brother mine! How can you sleep with so much going on?” No stutter anywhere.

Levi stirred again; he said, “Huh?” Thomas could tell he never woke up. Levi thought he had been dreaming, probably.

Thomas smiled and lay still a few more minutes. Then he got out of bed and stealthily made his way to the living room. In the farthest corner by the windows he sat himself down with his legs drawn up.

Anybody see me like this will think I’m a looney tune, he thought.

The house wasn’t dark at all. There was moonlight making the outdoors look like a still and secret kind of day. Thomas pulled back the curtain to get a better look. It was the truth, moonlight was
weird
—spooky the way it gave everything an unnatural intensity. He wouldn’t have been shocked out of his head to see a bunch of zombies going to a blood-sucking in the hedgerow. On his knees now to see better, he stared a few minutes longer, just daring the glowing moon and the shadowy trees to give up some kind of death-dealing terror.

What would you do if something awful did come walking along? I mean, suppose this is judgment night and the dead folks get up to take a stroll. Thomas the ghoul. Did you forget what you came out here for?

He leaned back in the corner and in as ordinary and quiet a manner as he could manage, he commenced talking out loud.

“My name is Thomas … Douglass.” Sometimes it was necessary for him to pause between words. It helped also when he spoke slowly and matter-of-factly. But in order to do that, he had to clean it up inside. Empty himself of—well, you might call it aggression. Meanness.

Tell the truth, he thought. You look at things and understand what’s going on. You don’t hate anyone for no reason or try to hurt anyone. Then—
you do not stutter.

“Now, that takes the cake … d-d-don’t it?” he said. Oh-oh. I had some anger there. He closed his eyes, trying to turn around whatever ugly thought he was going to think when he stuttered the word. He had to smile. It was so-o-o funny! His stutter was gone if he did not do harm to anyone else.

What do you mean, do! Even think it.

“That’s it,” he said softly. “All I have to do is find a way around it.”

His mouth clamped shut. He couldn’t open his jaws. He could barely swallow.

Thomas began breathing hard. He tried to swallow. It was as if something not only had its hand over his mouth but gripped him on the inside as well. The back of his mouth filled with saliva. His teeth were clenched shut. Fear flowed up his back and the saliva dried up. Suddenly the living room terrified him. What was happening to him? He knew. He knew!