Part 2 (1/2)
She paused, swallowing hard. ”Somehow, I got me and the other kids back out,” Bethany said, her voice now quieter. ”They all thought it was some kind of cool magic trick for the party. But my dad . . . I don't know what happened, but he got left behind. Except he's not in that book now, not anymore. And I don't know where he is.”
”Couldn't he just leave that book too?” Owen asked. ”The same way he did the first time?”
Why was she telling Owen this much? ”Maybe? I don't know. Maybe he tried, and left that book looking for another way out. Maybe . . . maybe he couldn't leave, because something hurt him in the story. Or maybe he just figured, why come back to the real world when the fictional world is so much better?”
She turned away, ran the backs of her hands over her eyes, then sighed. ”I look for him everywhere I can,” she said, staring at the table. ”After my dad got lost, my mom wouldn't let me jump into books anymore, no exceptions. For years after, she wouldn't even let me read a book the normal way without watching me do it, not even schoolbooks. And what am I going to do with those, jump into a word problem? As soon as she started to trust me, I hit the library and checked out that fairy-tale book first thing. I tore that thing apart, inside and out, but he wasn't there. Not anywhere in it! I keep trying, bringing home new books every night, hiding them from my mom, but there are so many other books out there. How could anyone possibly look through them all?”
Owen put up his hands, and she realized he was trying to quiet her down. She looked over his shoulder to where several people had turned to look at whatever the crazy girl in the corner was yelling about. Her eyes widened, and she gritted her teeth in an effort to not punch something. ”I don't know why I'm even talking about this,” she hissed. ”You're just some jerk who won't leave me alone. Now, do you want the gobstopper or not?”
He glanced at the candy again, staring at it like it was made of gold. Then he pushed it back to her side. ”No. But if you really don't want to ever hear from me again, then I've got a different deal for you.”
That's what this was all about. She should have known. ”So you do want a time machine.”
He shook his head. ”I don't want anything from a book. Just for you to take me into one. Five minutes, in and out, that's all I ask.”
Bethany sighed. Of course that's what he wanted. Meet Percy Jackson, or Ron Weasley, or that knockoff Harry Potter kid, Kiel Giant-toes. And if she didn't do what he asked, he'd tell her mother, and that'd be it. So much for making a friend. ”And which book is that?”
He pulled a book out from his backpack. Kiel Gnomenfoot and the End of Everything. Kiel Giant-toes it was.
”So, what, you want his autograph?” she asked, keeping her voice as level as she could. ”Want to go gush over him like he's a celebrity? That'll be perfect, Owen. He has no idea anyone even knows who he is, but yes, go tell him how much you love his gnome feet or whatever, and how The End of Everything is the greatest t.i.tle you've ever heard. Do you know how dumb that idea is? You'd change the entire story! Do you have any idea what would happen if you did that?”
Owen's eyes lit up like Christmas lights. ”No?” he said.
”Neither do I!” she whispered. ”Maybe it's not possible, I don't even know, because I'm too smart to have ever tried. The last thing I need is for my name to show up in a book like I'm a character, where everyone can see it. You think no one would notice that, if suddenly there's a Bethany Sanderson in Frankenstein where there'd never been one before? And what if I change a book's story, especially one that's as popular as Kiel Nope-Fingers? People are gonna notice something like that in seconds! I have nightmares about what could happen.”
He started to say something, then stopped and opened the book. ”I don't want to meet Kiel,” he said finally. ”He's not even in this chapter. I just . . . His teacher, the Magister, has this spell book, and-”
”Magic?” Bethany almost shouted, then quickly quieted down when everyone turned to look at them again. ”Are you kidding me? You want to learn magic? Did you hear what I just said about nightmares? That'd be like ten times worse!”
”There's a spell,” Owen told her. ”Kiel's used it before. It helps you find things.” He paused, as if he were considering something. ”I didn't know about your father, not before. But now that I do, there's a spell in this book that could find him for you. You learn the spell, and cast it here, or there, however it works. And it'd locate him.” He shrugged. ”I just thought that might help you. And if after that you want me to forget all this, that I ever saw you, that's up to you.”
Bethany stared at him, her mouth hanging open. He wanted to help her? ”No. No. It's way too risky. I'm sorry, that was actually . . . nice of you. But no.” She stood up and turned to leave, then paused and pushed the gobstopper over to him before walking straight out of the library.
As soon as she pa.s.sed through the sliding doors, she stopped and turned around. Owen had picked up the candy and was staring at it sadly, like it was all that was left of his Christmas after the Grinch came through.
Ugh. UGH! He'd been trying to do something nice. Obviously, he wanted to visit the book too, just for fun, but besides that, he'd been thinking about her. And this is how she treated him for it?
But there was no way she could do that. It was just asking for trouble. She couldn't!
Bethany fell back against the library wall. She hadn't even checked out a new book to search for her father. But there was no going back in now, not with Owen still there. Great. Was she going to have to avoid the library all the time now?
At least she still had some books back home. Okay, she'd already looked for her dad in them, but sometimes you just needed a Little Prince night, sitting alone on his planet while he was down on Earth, talking to the pilot.
She gave Owen one last look through the library doors, then tried to forget this whole night ever happened as she set off home.
Ten minutes later, turning the key in her front door, she heard the TV and knew her mother was home. It sounded like the news was on, but not about anything important, just something about how some first issue of a comic book had sold for hundreds of thousands of dollars since no one could find any other issues in the series anymore. Hugely important news, obviously.
But her mom being home early meant something was wrong. Something wrong like maybe Owen had said something he shouldn't have?
”Mom?” Bethany said in a voice even quieter than she meant to use.
She heard her mother sniff loudly, and the TV sound disappeared. ”Bethany?” her mom said, and sniffed again. ”Is everything okay? Why are you late?”
”Just, uh, stayed after school to do some homework with someone from my cla.s.s,” Bethany said. ”Why are you home?”
Her mother appeared in the hallway, a smile on her face despite her red eyes. ”Oh, I just felt a little sick. It's going away, though.”
Relief flooded through Bethany, and she gave her mother a hug. ”Want me to make you some soup or something?”
”Oh, that's ridiculous. I'm fine,” her mother said, sniffing again. ”See? Probably just a cold.”
Bethany nodded. It wasn't a cold. Her mother only got this way when something reminded her of Bethany's father.
It could have been the color of Bethany's hair, the same bronze color that her father had-at least that was the color her father had in Bethany's memory of him. Sometimes it was just a word or a random memory. Bethany never knew exactly what set her mother off, but it always came down to her mother sitting in front of a fire, even in the middle of summer, and staring into an old hand mirror that had been a gift from her father. Then her mom would go to bed, and the mirror would disappear, never to be seen again until the next time this happened.
”Are you hungry, Beth?” her mother asked.
”No, I had a snack at school. I'm good for now,” Bethany told her. ”You go sit down. You still sound sick. I'll make you something.”
Her mother gave her a sad smile, then nodded. ”You're far too sweet, you know. I'm so proud of you, of the person you're growing up to be, you know that?”
Bethany returned the smile, but inwardly wanted to groan. What would her mother say if she knew Bethany was reading every single night? Breaking the one rule her mother ever really cared about? And would probably be in a book right now if it meant not having to watch her mother cry?
An hour later her mother had a fire going and was sitting with her hand mirror on her lap, staring at the flames. Bethany kissed her forehead, then quietly went upstairs to her room and closed the door behind her.
She pulled a copy of Goodnight Moon out from underneath her bed and ran her fingers over the cover. Years and years ago her father had walked with her through the book's rooms, narrating the story by heart to her as they went. It was her first memory of him, and her favorite one.
All this time, she'd wondered where her father had gone, and now she had a way to find him.
But what if he hadn't come back because . . . because he didn't want to?
She stuffed the book back beneath her bed, pulled The Little Prince out from a different spot, then jumped in to spend the rest of the night alone with the stars.
CHAPTER 5.
Owen stared at Bethany across the cafeteria, an empty feeling in his stomach. It wasn't entirely a trick, honestly. There was a spell in the Magister's spell book that might help her find her father. And after learning that Bethany's father was missing, Owen really did want to help.
It just felt wrong, though, to use that as an excuse to get him into the book. Even if all he wanted to do was perform an amazing, heroic, lifesaving, awesome act of goodness. Even if this was clearly the thing he'd been meant to do with his life, saving the Magister.
Maybe he should just tell her the truth? He knew that Bethany would never go for it, since he'd be changing the story, and that seemed to freak her out more than almost anything-anything other than learning magic, at least. But then he wouldn't feel so guilty, and besides, what did he have to lose, since she wasn't taking him anyway?
Owen glanced over at her, at her long reddish-brown hair, and wondered who her father might actually be. Was it someone famous, like Sherlock Holmes? James Bond? He came from books too, didn't he? Or maybe someone like Gandalf? The wizard seemed kind of old to be someone's father, though. Grandfather, sure, but father, maybe not.