Finally, Dmitri said, “We’re worried about him. He’s been behaving kind of strangely.”
“We wanted to find out what he’s doing,” Harold added. “He hasn’t been around much lately.”
“Maybe he just realized you two are the biggest losers in the universe?” Delia suggested. Harold clenched his fists but said nothing. “You guys are pathetic spies. I’ve been watching you for at least an hour and you didn’t even know I was there.”
“Oh yeah?” Harold retorted. “What are you doing here? I suppose you just happened to take a trip to the island in the freezing cold?”
Delia’s eyes narrowed. “I’m doing the same thing you are. I’m trying to figure out what Brendan is up to.”
“Spying on your own brother?” Harold shook his head. “That’s pretty low.”
Delia grabbed Harold by the front of his jacket and pulled him close until she was staring into his eyes. “He isn’t my brother. Not really! And I want to know what happened to me. I think he had something to do with it.”
“What do you mean, what happened to you?” Dmitri interjected.
“I mean… ” she stopped. Disgusted, she let go of Harold and turned away. “Never mind.” She started to walk back into the trees.
“Is it about the day you lost?” Dmitri shouted at her back.
Delia froze. Slowly, she turned around and looked at the two boys. “What did you say?”
“I said, ‘Is it about the day you lost?’” Dmitri watched her face. She didn’t speak.
Harold jumped in. “We lost a day, too, a few weeks ago. We just can’t seem to remember anything about this one day.”
“We believe Brendan had something to do with it,” Dmitri added.
Delia stared at them. At last, she whispered, “Why? Why do you think he’s involved?”
“We can’t be sure,” Harold said. “It’s just a feeling we both have. And, well… ” He hesitated, his hand resting on his book bag. “I have these pictures I drew.”
Delia’s eyebrows rose. “What pictures?”
“In my sketchbook.”
Delia grinned a hungry grin. “Let me see these pictures.”
Later, they sat in a cafe drinking hot chocolate and comparing notes. On the ferry from the island, Delia had pored over the bizarre sketches that Harold insisted he’d done but couldn’t remember drawing. They showed Brendan flying with birds, and an old man with a grizzled face and a slouch cap. There were pictures of a magnificent but terrifying woman with fierce eyes. Her hands were alight with some form of energy. On another page, weird creatures that seemed to be half man and half dog slavered and snarled.
Delia was captivated. “If you’d seen someone like that, you’d think it would stick in your mind.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to make sense of what they’d seen so far.
“I’ve been following him for days now,” Delia said at last. “I even followed him when he was Christmas shopping.”
“What did he do?” Dmitri asked.
“Went Christmas shopping,” Delia snapped sullenly.
“Nice work, Sherlock,” Harold scoffed.
“Why don’t you just shut up?”
“Please!” Dmitri interjected. “Let’s not fight. We have to figure out what’s going on.”
“Okay, so we all agree,” Harold said. “Something weird is going on and Brendan is at the centre of it. So what do we do?”
“We keep doing what we’re doing,” Delia announced. “Only now, we join forces.”
“Join forces?” Harold repeated, mystified. “You’d work with dorks like us?”
“Though it makes me dry-heave just thinking about it, yes. Three heads are better than one. We can cover more ground this way. Coordinate our efforts. Are we agreed?”
Dmitri and Harold exchanged a glance. After a moment of silent communication, they nodded.
“Okay.” Delia smiled fiercely. “There are two conditions.”
“What?” Dmitri asked.
“One: I’m in charge.”
“Okay,” Harold conceded. “The other?”
“You guys gotta get some deodorant. Really!” Delia grimaced. “I mean, come on. Grow up.”
“One question,” Dmitri said.
“What’s that?” Delia asked.
“What’s deodorant?”
“Are you kidding me?” Delia snorted.
“Yes,” Dmitri answered and grinned.
^ 42 Of course it’s unnatural. It’s the beginning of the Ward that will shield the island from Human eyes during the Clan Gathering. Duh!
^ 43 These days it’s hard to tell who is mad and who is talking on a cellphone. It’s not unusual to see people walking down the street and talking at the top of their voices to no one in particular. It used to be that you knew such a person was mad and they were best avoided. Now, people have these little ear thingies and they’re most likely holding a phone conversation, closing a big deal or planning dinner. I long for the old days when you knew whether a person was mad. Sometimes, just for fun, I put a little ear thingy in my ear and walk up and down the street saying strange things like, “Tell them we need it delivered to Atlantis by noon tomorrow!” or “The bears were completely covered in electronic strawberries!” I find it very liberating.
^ 44 Gelid means on the verge of freezing, for word fans out there.
PART 3
Preparation
Another Note from the Narrator
Well! If you like stories full of mystery and excitement, this is your lucky day! Brendan has once again surprised everyone with a new ability, but his friends and his evil sister have formed an alliance to spy on him. What a tangled web! What intrigue! What a twisted tale!
Certainly, Harold and Dmitri are more worried about their friend and less bent on his destruction than Delia is. They’ve all lost a day of memories, and one can sympathize with their confusion and desire to figure out what exactly happened to them on the fateful day that disappeared. I’d be worried if I lost a day, wouldn’t you? I mean, anything could happen in twenty-four hours. You could eat a bag of worms, dance naked in a shopping mall, grow a moustache and shave it off, mail it to your parents, and grow another one. I have done all these things, but I have the pleasure of remembering them: that’s the difference.
Some of you may think it’s a little harsh to insist that Delia is bent on Brendan’s destruction. All right, maybe his sister is not evil in the strictest sense. There are many gradations of evil. At the top of the Evil Food Chain are the Evil Dictators who hold their people in an iron grip of fear. Below the Evil Dictators are the Criminal Masterminds who plot the downfall of society to advance their own evil agenda. The next tier is the Corrupt Official who exploits the public for his or her own evil gains. Then there is the average murderer, although murder is hardly average. Finally, there is the Big Sister bent on destroying her sibling in retaliation for the borrowing of a sweater unasked or in revenge for an imagined slight.
Of all of these, the Big Sister is the most unpredictable and terrifying. One may never know when one will become the target of her wrath. One must cringe through life in a constant state of ulcer-inducing fear.
I remember once, when I was twelve, I accidentally spilled a glass of milk on my sister’s favourite woollen skirt. She accepted my apology after a massive tantrum, but she never forgot. It took her twenty years, but in the end she got her revenge. She had me pantsed at the altar on my wedding day. She then posted the pictures on a website she created, entitled www.youruinedmyfavouriteskirtyoulittlecreep.com.
I never saw it coming. I’ll never live it down. I thought she’d forgotten but she hadn’t. Big Sisters are like elephants… with access to the Internet.
MUSIC
Brendan made it home late for dinner. He needn’t have hurried. A note was stuck on the fridge: his mother was out Christmas shopping, his father working an evening shift. Of his sister there was no sign. He was glad to have the house to himself. His mum had left a pan of lasagna in the oven. Peering in at the expanse of cheese and noodles, he was suddenly aware of how desperately hungry he was. Happily carving off a chunk, Brendan sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy a solitary meal. He was sore from the sparring and a bit light-headed. His mind was spinning with thoughts of how he’d broken Saskia’s circle and managed to knock the formidable Warp Warrior down.