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Authors: G. P. Ching
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without the aid of the rose lattice. Mara sighed and climbed down the much more human way. Jacob waved as they crossed the yard toward Dr. Silva's gothic Victorian.
He turned back toward his mom who waited just inside the door.
"Do we need to talk about what happened with Malini last night?" Lillian whispered.
"I told you what happened," Jacob said.
Lillian rested her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Tell me the truth. Did you have sex with her?"
"No, I didn't. I swear."
"You know you can tell me anything, Jacob, but you need to be honest with me. Did you have sex with her?"
"I am being honest. No."
His mom relaxed slightly, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. She embraced him in a firm hug. "I knew you were smarter than that, but I needed to be sure." She drifted toward the door and crept into the hall.
Jacob fell onto his newly repaired bed, thinking about Katrina, the Watcher, and the Soulkeeper he'd just seen stop time. He wondered if he'd ever have a normal day again. And more than anything, he dreaded having to explain it all to Malini.
Chapter 8
Family
Malini held the phone to her ear, hoping she'd put enough space between her and her father to be discreet. He wouldn't be happy if he knew she was talking to Jacob.
"I need to talk to you, Malini. Can you come into the shop?" Jacob's voice broke and Malini couldn't tell if it was the reception on her cell phone or something more.
"Your voice sounds funny. Is everything okay?"
"I'd rather talk to you in person."
"If you can't tell me over the phone, it will have to wait. We're in Springfield for the day."
"Springfield?"
Malini cupped her hand over her mouth and whispered into the phone. "Yeah, I totally forgot my dad's birthday. We're at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum. You know my dad."
There was a long pause on the other end of the connection.
"Jacob, are you there?"
"Yeah. When do you think you'll be back?"
"Late. We're having dinner here and then it's over two hours home. Can it wait until tomorrow at school?"
Jacob sighed.
Malini's father tapped her on the shoulder. "Who is that on the phone, Malini?" he said. "You'll miss the log cabin."
"It's Dane, Dad," Malini lied.
"Nice. Dane's okay but I'm not?" Jacob said.
Malini didn't know what to say.
"Sounds like you've got to go. Don't worry about anything, Malini. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay. See you tomorrow."
She touched the end call button.
"Look, Malini. He taught himself how to read," her dad said excitedly, motioning for her to come over. There was a model of Abe as a teen outside the log cabin. The wax figure held a book in his hand.
"That can't be true, Dad. Who teaches themselves how to read?"
"Abe Lincoln, that's who."
Malini followed her parents through the one room cabin, wondering how much was real and how much was legend.
"Dad, what is with your obsession with Abraham Lincoln anyway? Why not...I don't know...Gandhi?"
"What? Because we are Indian, I should have an Indian hero?"
"I didn't mean it that way. It just seems sort of random."
"Come, Malini. I want to show you something." Her father hooked his arm inside her elbow. Her mother, who had been staring fixedly at the pot over the fake fire, accepted his other arm.
They exited the cabin and made their way down the next hall. Her father stopped them in front of a photograph of a black man whose back was ripped to shreds. Malini had to turn away.
"That's awful," she said.
"There's more."
He led her to a scene titled The Slave Auction. The depiction of a family being torn apart by slave traders broke her heart. She had to remind herself that the models weren't real.
"This is so depressing, Dad."
"Wait, one more thing."
He led her through a room of caricatures criticizing Lincoln. "Did you know so many people hated him while he was alive?" Malini asked. "These are some of the worst political cartoons I've ever seen."
"Oh he wasn't always a popular president, Malini."
He
He turned back toward his mom who waited just inside the door.
"Do we need to talk about what happened with Malini last night?" Lillian whispered.
"I told you what happened," Jacob said.
Lillian rested her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Tell me the truth. Did you have sex with her?"
"No, I didn't. I swear."
"You know you can tell me anything, Jacob, but you need to be honest with me. Did you have sex with her?"
"I am being honest. No."
His mom relaxed slightly, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. She embraced him in a firm hug. "I knew you were smarter than that, but I needed to be sure." She drifted toward the door and crept into the hall.
Jacob fell onto his newly repaired bed, thinking about Katrina, the Watcher, and the Soulkeeper he'd just seen stop time. He wondered if he'd ever have a normal day again. And more than anything, he dreaded having to explain it all to Malini.
Chapter 8
Family
Malini held the phone to her ear, hoping she'd put enough space between her and her father to be discreet. He wouldn't be happy if he knew she was talking to Jacob.
"I need to talk to you, Malini. Can you come into the shop?" Jacob's voice broke and Malini couldn't tell if it was the reception on her cell phone or something more.
"Your voice sounds funny. Is everything okay?"
"I'd rather talk to you in person."
"If you can't tell me over the phone, it will have to wait. We're in Springfield for the day."
"Springfield?"
Malini cupped her hand over her mouth and whispered into the phone. "Yeah, I totally forgot my dad's birthday. We're at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum. You know my dad."
There was a long pause on the other end of the connection.
"Jacob, are you there?"
"Yeah. When do you think you'll be back?"
"Late. We're having dinner here and then it's over two hours home. Can it wait until tomorrow at school?"
Jacob sighed.
Malini's father tapped her on the shoulder. "Who is that on the phone, Malini?" he said. "You'll miss the log cabin."
"It's Dane, Dad," Malini lied.
"Nice. Dane's okay but I'm not?" Jacob said.
Malini didn't know what to say.
"Sounds like you've got to go. Don't worry about anything, Malini. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay. See you tomorrow."
She touched the end call button.
"Look, Malini. He taught himself how to read," her dad said excitedly, motioning for her to come over. There was a model of Abe as a teen outside the log cabin. The wax figure held a book in his hand.
"That can't be true, Dad. Who teaches themselves how to read?"
"Abe Lincoln, that's who."
Malini followed her parents through the one room cabin, wondering how much was real and how much was legend.
"Dad, what is with your obsession with Abraham Lincoln anyway? Why not...I don't know...Gandhi?"
"What? Because we are Indian, I should have an Indian hero?"
"I didn't mean it that way. It just seems sort of random."
"Come, Malini. I want to show you something." Her father hooked his arm inside her elbow. Her mother, who had been staring fixedly at the pot over the fake fire, accepted his other arm.
They exited the cabin and made their way down the next hall. Her father stopped them in front of a photograph of a black man whose back was ripped to shreds. Malini had to turn away.
"That's awful," she said.
"There's more."
He led her to a scene titled The Slave Auction. The depiction of a family being torn apart by slave traders broke her heart. She had to remind herself that the models weren't real.
"This is so depressing, Dad."
"Wait, one more thing."
He led her through a room of caricatures criticizing Lincoln. "Did you know so many people hated him while he was alive?" Malini asked. "These are some of the worst political cartoons I've ever seen."
"Oh he wasn't always a popular president, Malini."
He
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