purses his lips. He glances at Mom, who shakes her head ever so slightly. “It’s not going to work, Nathan,” he says. “I’m sorry.” He leads Mom back toward the van.
“Dad, come on!” From the light pouring out of his room I can see that Tyler’s hair is slicked back from being in the shower. I wonder if this is the first hotel he’s stayed at in a while—the first shower.
“It’s fate!” Mr. Harker calls out. “You can’t fight it any more than I can.
The die has been cast
.”
As he says this, a shiver runs through me. Mom reaches the van, grabs my arm roughly, and pulls me toward our rooms. “Let’s go, Daphne.” She looks over her shoulder at Mr. Harker and hustles me along.
She sticks the card in the door for room fourteen and the lock whirs and clicks. The green light comes on and Dad opens the door and ushers us in. The air is fairly stale inside. They must not get a lot of people this time of year. I put my crate on the small desk and see there’s no adjoining door, so I’ll have a little more privacy without Mom barging in whenever she feels like it.
Mom sits on one of the twin beds and starts obsessively picking at the fuzzballs on the ugly brown and pink floral patterned bedspread. “He’s crazy. I can’t believe Officer MacCready didn’t take one look at Nathan and toss him out of his office.” She stares up at the ceiling and shakes her head. “And demons, of all things!”
This gets my attention. “Demons? What are you talking about?”
Mom gets up and paces in the small room. “He went on and on about demons being responsible for the attacks on the children and Officer MacCready acted like that was a credible theory.
‘There’re vampires, why not demons,’
” she says, obviously recounting what Officer MacCready said in his office after I’d left.
“What kind of demons?” I ask.
“He didn’t get into the details,” Dad says. “He wanted to talk to us afterward but we—”
“We said ‘no’ of course,” Mom interrupts. “You need to stay away from them, Daphne.”
I roll my eyes. “You won’t get any arguments from me.”
“God, this job can’t end soon enough,” she mutters.
“Let’s make our plan of attack for tomorrow,” Dad says. “I think we’re in for a bumpy ride.”
I can’t help but think he’s right.
When Mom and Dad leave to get their things out of the van I take my binder out. I hear Mr. Harker’s voice echo in my head. “
It’s fate.”
I never believed in fate, but after he yelled that out I started thinking. I found one of my “friends.” Not like I imagined—but still—to actually meet Maybelle Crusher, live and in person; what are the chances?
I sit on a bed and open the binder. I flip throughthe pages until I find the picture I drew with the name “Maybelle” scrawled in purple crayon at the top. I’d drawn an arrow from the name to a round girl with long, brown hair. She’s holding hands with my cartoon self in a pink house filled with music notes I’d scribbled here and there. There’s a unicorn that looks more like a dog with a spike coming out of its forehead, nibbling a flower in the garden surrounding the house.
I turn the pages back toward the front and stop on the picture with the house and the white dog.
My heart aches.
Meeting “Kiki” should’ve been a “this is the end of your troubles” moment complete with trumpets blaring and angels singing. Instead I can’t shake the feeling there’s a truckload of crap coming my way. Despite my best efforts to stop it, a tear tumbles down my cheek. Why did Maybelle have to become Kiki and ruin everything?
I wonder how many more of my dreams have to crash and burn before I adopt Mom’s robotlike persona.
I slam the binder shut and move the things around in my crate so I can bury it at the bottom. Whatever happens tomorrow, I can’t help but think Mr. Harker was right—the die has been cast.
The only question is: at what cost?
6.
Revenge.
“Dad, come on!” From the light pouring out of his room I can see that Tyler’s hair is slicked back from being in the shower. I wonder if this is the first hotel he’s stayed at in a while—the first shower.
“It’s fate!” Mr. Harker calls out. “You can’t fight it any more than I can.
The die has been cast
.”
As he says this, a shiver runs through me. Mom reaches the van, grabs my arm roughly, and pulls me toward our rooms. “Let’s go, Daphne.” She looks over her shoulder at Mr. Harker and hustles me along.
She sticks the card in the door for room fourteen and the lock whirs and clicks. The green light comes on and Dad opens the door and ushers us in. The air is fairly stale inside. They must not get a lot of people this time of year. I put my crate on the small desk and see there’s no adjoining door, so I’ll have a little more privacy without Mom barging in whenever she feels like it.
Mom sits on one of the twin beds and starts obsessively picking at the fuzzballs on the ugly brown and pink floral patterned bedspread. “He’s crazy. I can’t believe Officer MacCready didn’t take one look at Nathan and toss him out of his office.” She stares up at the ceiling and shakes her head. “And demons, of all things!”
This gets my attention. “Demons? What are you talking about?”
Mom gets up and paces in the small room. “He went on and on about demons being responsible for the attacks on the children and Officer MacCready acted like that was a credible theory.
‘There’re vampires, why not demons,’
” she says, obviously recounting what Officer MacCready said in his office after I’d left.
“What kind of demons?” I ask.
“He didn’t get into the details,” Dad says. “He wanted to talk to us afterward but we—”
“We said ‘no’ of course,” Mom interrupts. “You need to stay away from them, Daphne.”
I roll my eyes. “You won’t get any arguments from me.”
“God, this job can’t end soon enough,” she mutters.
“Let’s make our plan of attack for tomorrow,” Dad says. “I think we’re in for a bumpy ride.”
I can’t help but think he’s right.
When Mom and Dad leave to get their things out of the van I take my binder out. I hear Mr. Harker’s voice echo in my head. “
It’s fate.”
I never believed in fate, but after he yelled that out I started thinking. I found one of my “friends.” Not like I imagined—but still—to actually meet Maybelle Crusher, live and in person; what are the chances?
I sit on a bed and open the binder. I flip throughthe pages until I find the picture I drew with the name “Maybelle” scrawled in purple crayon at the top. I’d drawn an arrow from the name to a round girl with long, brown hair. She’s holding hands with my cartoon self in a pink house filled with music notes I’d scribbled here and there. There’s a unicorn that looks more like a dog with a spike coming out of its forehead, nibbling a flower in the garden surrounding the house.
I turn the pages back toward the front and stop on the picture with the house and the white dog.
My heart aches.
Meeting “Kiki” should’ve been a “this is the end of your troubles” moment complete with trumpets blaring and angels singing. Instead I can’t shake the feeling there’s a truckload of crap coming my way. Despite my best efforts to stop it, a tear tumbles down my cheek. Why did Maybelle have to become Kiki and ruin everything?
I wonder how many more of my dreams have to crash and burn before I adopt Mom’s robotlike persona.
I slam the binder shut and move the things around in my crate so I can bury it at the bottom. Whatever happens tomorrow, I can’t help but think Mr. Harker was right—the die has been cast.
The only question is: at what cost?
6.
Revenge.
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