At that, her dad looked nonplussed. “But even the scientists say it’s good to talk to plants. It’s the frequency of the sound waves or something.”
“That’s like saying that telling someone you love them is good just because of the sound waves,” Nita said. “If you were from Mars and you didn’t know how important knowing people loved you was, you might think it was the sound waves, too. Don’t you feel how the plants like it when you talk to them?”
“They do grow better,” her dad said after a moment. “Liking…I don’t know.
Give me a while to get used to the idea. What’s the fridge’s problem?”
“It hates being empty. A fridge’s nature is to have things in it for people to eat! But there’s hardly anything in it half the week, and that makes it sad.” Nita gave her dad a stern look. “Not to mention that it makes me sad, when I get home from school. We need to get more stuff on Fridays!”
“Well, okay. But at least—”
“Uh-oh,” said a little voice.
Nita’s dad glanced up, and both of them looked around. “What?” he said.
“It’s Spot,” said Nita.
“What’s the matter with him?”
“I don’t know,” Nita said. “He’s been doing that every now and then since I got home.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know. I looked for him before, but I couldn’t see him. Dairine can probably tell us when she gets back. So, Daddy, about the shopping…”
“Okay,” her father said. “Your mom was such an expert at judging what we needed right down to Friday afternoon. Maybe I didn’t pay enough attention. You probably did, though.”
“Uh, no,” Nita said, “but I saw her do it often enough that I can imitate what she did until I start understanding the rules myself.”
“Fine,” her dad said. “That’s your job now, then. Let me get out of my work clothes and we’ll go out as soon as Dairine gets back.”
“Uh-oh,” said that small voice again. “Uh-oh. Uh-oh!”
“What is it with him?” Nita’s father said, looking around in confusion. “He sounds like he’s having a guilt attack. Wherever he is…”
The uh-oh-ing stopped short.
Nita’s dad looked into the dining room and spied something. “Hey, wait, I see where he is,” he said, and went to the corner behind the dining room table. There was a little cupboard and pantry area there, set into the wall, and one of the lower cupboard’s doors was partly open. Nita’s dad looked into it. “What’s the matter with you, fella?”
“Uh-oh,” said Spot’s voice, much smaller still.
“Come on,” Nita’s dad said, “let’s have a look at you.” He reached down into the bottom of the cupboard, in among the unpolished silver and the big serving plates, and brought out the little laptop computer. It had been undergoing some changes recently, what Dairine referred to as an “upgrade.” In this case, upgrading seemed to involve getting smaller and cooler looking, so that a computer that had once been fairly big and heavy was now not much bigger than a large paperback book in a dark silvery case.
Spot, however, had equipment that no other laptop had, as far as Nita knew—not just sentience but (at least sometimes) legs. These—all ten of them, silvery and with two ball-and-socket joints each—now popped out and wiggled and rowed and made helpless circles in the air while Nita’s dad held Spot up, blowing a little dislodged cupboard dust off the top of him.
“Some of that stuff in there needs to be polished,” her dad said. “It’s all brown. Never mind. You got a problem, big guy?”
It was surprising how much expression a closed computer case could seem to have, at least as far as Spot was concerned. He managed to look not only nervous but embarrassed. “Not me,” Spot said.
“Well, who then?”
“Uh-oh,” Spot said again.
Nita could immediately think of one reason why Spot might not want to go into detail. She was reluctant to say anything: It wasn’t her style to go out of her way to get her little sister into trouble. Besides, since when does she need my help for that?
“All right,” Nita’s father said, sounding resigned. “What’s Dairine done now?”
Despite her best intentions, Nita had to grin, though she turned away a little so that it wouldn’t be too obvious.
“Come on, buddy,” Nita’s father said. “You know we’re on her side. Give.”
Spot’s little legs revolved faster and faster in their ball-and-socket joints, as if he were trying to rev up to takeoff speed. “Spot,” her dad said, “come on, it’s all right. Don’t get all—”
With a pop! and a little implosion of air that made the dining room window curtains swing inward, Spot vanished.
Nita’s dad looked at his empty hands, then looked over at Nita and dusted his palms. “Now where’d he go?”
Nita shook her head. “No idea.”
“I haven’t seen him do that before.”
“Usually I don’t see him coming or going, either,” Nita said. “But he can do that kind of stuff if he wants to. He’s got a lot of the manual in him; wizardry is his operating system, and Spot can probably use it for function calls I’ve never even thought about.” She went into the kitchen and got her backpack off the counter, bringing it into the dining room and dropping it on the table. “He and Dairine aren’t usually far apart for long, though. When she comes back, he will, too.”
“Did she have a late day today?” Nita’s dad said.
“Choir practice, I think,” Nita said. “No, wait, that was yesterday. She should
be home any minute.”
Nita’s dad nodded. “Any coffee left from this morning?
“I threw it out when I left for school,” Nita said. “You know what it tastes like when you leave it all day. I just made you some fresh.”
“Thanks.”
Her dad headed into the kitchen. As he did, the front doorbell rang. “It’s probably the newspaper guy,” Nita’s dad said. “He collects around now. Get that, will you, honey?”
“Sure, Daddy.” Nita went to the front door and opened it.
Instead of the Newsday guy, Nita found Tom Swale standing there—a tall man in his mid-thirties, dark-haired, good-looking, and one of the Senior Wizards for the New York metropolitan area. He was bundled up in a bright red ski parka and dripping slightly from the rain. “Hi, Nita. I saw the car in the driveway. Is your dad around?”
“Uh, yeah, come on in.”
“You need money, Nita?” said her dad from the kitchen.
“Not for Tom, Daddy,” Nita said. “He’s free.” She led Tom into the dining room and took his coat as he slipped out of it, hanging it over the back of one of the chairs. Her dad looked around the kitchen door, slightly surprised.
“Harry,” Tom said, “I’m sorry to turn up unannounced like this. Is Dairine around?”
“Uh, not at the moment.” Nita’s dad suddenly looked a little pale—and Nita wondered whether her dad was thinking back to the last time the local Senior Wizard had turned up on their doorstep asking for Dairine. “It’s whatever Dairine’s done, isn’t it?”
Tom’s rueful expression suggested that he understood what was going through Nita’s dad’s head. “Well, yes. I wouldn’t say it was on the scale of previous transgressions. But there’s something she needs to take some correction on.”
At that, Nita’s dad looked somewhat relieved. “A daily occurrence,” he said, “if not hourly. Tom, come on in, have a cup of something, and tell me about it.”
“Thanks.”
They headed past Nita into the kitchen. “By the way, you any good with vanishing computers?” Nita’s dad said.
“Please. I have enough trouble with them when they’re visible,” Tom said, giving Nita a wink in passing. Nita took this as a signal that she was meant to be elsewhere, so she went into the living room, picked up the extension phone, and dialed.
When Kit picked up the phone this time, the noise in the background was more muted. “Talked to the TV, huh?” Nita said.