Maddy nodded. "Look, I gotta get home, I've got piano. We'll talk more about it tomorrow, okay? Keep your eyes on him! We'll figure it out."
Charlotte smiled. They made their good-byes, and Charlotte watched as her friend headed off down the street.
Charlotte kept her ears open and her eyes peeled that night, but she didn't have any new information to give Maddy the next day. But Maddy wasn't in homeroom anyway. Charlotte thought she must have had an appointment or something, because Maddy had never missed a day of school before in her life. But she wasn't in science, either, and when Charlotte looked at the list of excused absences on the teachers' announcement board, she saw her friend's name: MADELINE RUBY- ILL.
Weird, Charlotte thought.
She didn't get a chance to call Maddy that night, though. Zee stayed after school to try out for the upper-school soccer team (every once in a while when a kid was super good at something, they let an eighth grader play on the upper-school teams), and she stayed with him on her mother's instructions. It was worth it to watch the coach's eyes bug out when Zee played. He might be weird and a cat thief, but Zee could sure play soccer. Charlotte didn't know whether to feel bad that she had no actual talents or to be proud that Zee was on her side, so she settled for both. Then they went out to dinner because Uncle John was going to leave the next morning. So by the time they got home, it was way too late to be calling sick friends, as much as you might want to. All you could do was start your math homework, know that your friend would probably be back in school the next day, and watch wistfully as your kitten snuggled up on your cousin's lap.
But Maddy wasn't in homeroom the next day either, and Charlotte could not help but feel uneasy. During her free period she found herself going from classroom to classroom, collecting homework assignments for her friend, even though she hadn't willingly spoken to so many teachers before in her life.
"That's good of you, Charlotte," each teacher said. "What's wrong with Madeline?"
"I don't know," Charlotte said quietly each time. And something in her voice seemed to make the teachers quiet too.
After school Zee went to soccer practice (for, naturally, he had made the team) and Charlotte walked the six blocks to Maddy's house, clutching a red folder of assignments that Charlotte had spent all of English decorating.
It had finally gotten cool enough to be October. Two days ago the trees lining the sidewalks had been green; now they were all bright red, and as Charlotte walked along, she felt a few brown leaves crunch against the sidewalk. The air smelled of burned things.
The wind had a faint chill in it, and perhaps that, combined with her apprehension over Maddy's two-day absence, was why she felt that something was not quite right in the world around her, almost as if she were being watched.
Charlotte pressed the little round iron doorbell at Maddy's front door and heard the familiar, cheerful chirping echo through the inside of the house. She'd done this thousands of times since the girls became friends in first grade, after a discovery of a great mutual affection for Play-Doh.
But this time the bell faded out and she heard nothing. No sound coming through the hallway or rushing down the stairs to greet her. Just silence. And Charlotte's heart flipped a little. But then, there, firm adult footsteps sounded in the house, and Charlotte exhaled.
Maddy's mom opened the door, looking weary. There was something different about her, and it took Charlotte a few moments to realize this was the first time she'd ever seen Mrs. Ruby without the light pink lipstick that Charlotte had come to think was her own natural (albeit waxy) coloring.
"Oh, Charlotte," said Mrs. Ruby. "Hi." She smiled faintly and leaned against the doorway. A moment passed.
"Um," Charlotte said. "I brought Maddy's homework." She held out the folder weakly. She had a strange urge to drop it and run in the other direction.
"Oh!" Mrs. Ruby exclaimed. "Of course. I'm sorry, Charlotte, I'm just… that's very nice of you. Come on in."
She held the door, and Charlotte walked in, clutching the folder tightly.
"Maddy will be glad to see you," Mrs. Ruby said quietly.
"Yeah, um… what's wrong?"
"I don't know. She's just- I don't know" She shook her head. "I came home on Monday to find her just collapsed on the couch. She could barely talk."
"On Monday? I saw her leaving school. She was fine."
"Well, she wasn't when I got home. And she got worse all evening. We went to the doctor yesterday, but…" She shook her head. "Well, let's go see her, huh?" Mrs. Ruby smiled tightly at Charlotte, and then held out her hand like she used to when Charlotte was six. Charlotte took it, and together they walked up the stairs.
The shades were drawn and the lights off in Maddy's room, and Charlotte could barely make out her friend in the mass of covers on the bed. Mrs. Ruby went over to her. "Honey? Are you awake? Charlotte's here to see you!" She sounded oddly cheerful, in that way grownups can. "Come on over, Charlotte."
Maddy was buried deep inside several layers of blankets. Her head was propped up on three large pillows, but under the covers the rest of her body seemed flat against the bed, useless, like an old rag doll. Her eyes looked shadowy, and when she smiled at Charlotte, the effort seemed to drain her more. Charlotte sat down on the edge of the bed and sucked on her lips.
"I'll leave you girls," said Mrs. Ruby. "But only a few minutes, okay, Charlotte?"
And then she was gone, and Charlotte sat on her friend's bed and thought about how she had absolutely nothing in the whole wide world to say
CHAPTER 6
CHARLOTTE DID NOT SLEEP WELL THAT NIGHT. FOR A few days she had fancied herself on the periphery of some great mystery, one that had begun with the sudden arrival of her British cousin and then seemed to encompass her English teacher as well. But suddenly Charlotte wasn't living in a mystery anymore, in a fantasy world made of dark secrets and hidden tunnels and vampiric teachers and foggy London nights. Now Charlotte lived in this horrible world where her best friend could get so sick she couldn't lift her head.
And Maddy had been just fine at school that day, absolutely 100 percent fine. Better than that. She'd been Maddy, all cat-eyed glasses and mischievous smiles, with purple socks that matched her assignment book. The girl in the bed was just a shadow of her friend.
She hadn't told her family about Maddy, not yet. She didn't really know what to say, and somehow the words "Maddy's got something weird" or "Maddy's really sick" sounded useless to her, like a crumpled-up lunch bag. So at dinner, when her mother said, "You're awfully quiet, honey," and her father said, "Is there something bothering you, dear?" she just shrugged and said she was tired. The Mielswetzskis believed in giving children their own emotional space, so they did not prod, but merely turned back to Zee and listened to him talk about how much he was enjoying his new school.
Charlotte couldn't even toss and turn-she had taken Bartholomew to bed with her that night, for she had great need of Mew's kittenness, and the cat had dutifully passed out tucked right into Charlotte's stomach. This was a thing too wonderful to be disturbed, so Charlotte lay with her hand on Mew, staring at the wall and thinking of her shadow of a friend.
It was hard for Charlotte to get out of bed the next morning; all she wanted to do was stay in her bed with the covers pulled over her head and never ever, ever get out. Every piece of clothing Charlotte put on that morning was gray, from her hair elastic to her socks. It set the tenor for the day well. She'd never noticed before how colorless the school was – the walls and floors were all the same noncontroversial beige, and it fit Charlotte's mood perfectly. Every splash of color that she saw seemed to hurt her eyes.