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Graceful Page 3


  Also, he has to get used to how my mom runs things and our routine and everything, and I think it’s hard because he feels like he should be back at work, but my mom wants him to rest more. I don’t want him to go to work yet, either. In fact, I should go check on him. Okay, I’m back. He’s all good. I told him I’d put air in our bike tires, and he said I didn’t have to, but I’m hoping if there is air in the tires he will agree to ride.

  Q: If you have any questions for us, or about this process, please ask below.

  A: Why is the sky blue? Just kidding. Although actually not kidding, I really don’t know.

  End of new patient questionnaire. Thank you for your time.

  You’re welcome, I guess. I’m not really sure why my mother thinks I need to do this, but I’m not in the mood to complain about anything right now, so I’m just going with the flow, dude. That’s something my friend Connor would say.

  CONNOR KELLY’S INVENTOR’S JOURNAL

  Type of product: Hands-Free Umbrella

  Inventor: Roger St. Claire, Connor Kelly (assistant)

  Description of invention-in-progress: Hands-free umbrella to protect the user from rain, snow, or sunlight.

  What problem does it solve: Allows the user to carry items in both hands while still being protected by an umbrella, or to carry items in one hand — a phone, a camera, groceries — and hold a child’s hand with the other.

  Who will want or need this product: Everyone who likes to keep dry without the burden of holding an umbrella with his or her hand!

  Materials: acrylic coating, microfiber, rayon, Lycra, nylon, Scotchgard finish, steel, aluminum, wood, plastic, wire, metal hinges, metal springs, adjustable denim straps, rare earth magnets

  Steps: Experiment with positioning the tops of umbrellas by clipping onto hat, resting on shoulders, attaching to backpack or headband. Underarm straps? Magnetized to jacket?

  Results: After much trial and error (mostly consisting of Connor Kelly trying on various prototypes and then having a garden hose aimed at his head while he juggled tennis balls), the best solution was deemed to be a flexible coil that attaches to the bottom of a regular umbrella stem and is then wound around the wearer’s shoulder and tucked under his or her arm to hold into place, as shown below:

  Final observations: For this inventor’s assistant, getting to be a part of inventing the Hands-Free Umbrella Snake was an amazing experience. I got to see how an invention is first dreamed up by an existing need, and then how many options are considered and attempted before the best solution is found. And the best is often the simplest.

  I’ve been back at school exactly three days, and I have been sent to the principal’s office FOUR TIMES! And none of it was my fault! I underestimated how quickly word of me being in the hospital over the summer had spread. Even though they don’t know what really happened, everybody at school knows I was sick, even the teachers! Kids in Willow Falls almost never go to the hospital (thanks to Angelina’s magic), so whenever I walk down the hall (or sit in class or eat lunch or change for gym), kids point at me like I’m a circus freak. I’m causing a distraction just by existing, at least that was the reason for my first two trips.

  Then on Wednesday afternoon, I was accused of cheating because I finished the math assignment in only two minutes when it should have taken twenty. It really did feel like twenty minutes to me, and when I argued this, the teacher showed me the clock. I wish Angelina had warned me about this wonky time stuff. Last night I almost flooded the house when I turned on the bath water and then, in what seemed like only seconds later, the tub was overflowing.

  My final trip to see the principal (who I’m now getting to know very well) was actually MOM’S fault! We’re only allowed to have phones at school if they’re turned off, but Mom turned mine on this morning without telling me because she didn’t like that she couldn’t reach me from nine till three each day. So of course it rings during the Pledge of Allegiance, which is (according to my teacher) not only rude but also unpatriotic.

  Principal Rees decided it was time for a little chat with my parents, so now I’m sitting in the hall outside his office waiting for Mom to arrive. I look up from doodling in my social studies notebook to see that an older boy has joined me in the hallway. He leans against the opposite wall outside the nurse’s office. His arm is all bandaged up. “Yo,” he says.

  “Yo,” I reply. “Skateboard accident?”

  He shakes his head. “My bunny tried to kill me. Again.”

  I’ve practiced lifting one eyebrow for just this type of occasion. I lift it. “Really? A killer bunny? You don’t hear that very often.”

  He shrugs.

  A series of pictures suddenly flashes across my mind, like watching a movie on super-fast-forward. The mall. A cage. A bunny with orange ears. Rory! A magician. The ceramic bunny Leo made Connor when I was sick. “Kyle!” I blurt out.

  The kid looks up from examining his arm, surprised. “How do you know his name?”

  I smile. “He has a long history of unstable behavior. You may want to lock him in another room when you go to sleep.”

  “Tried that,” the boy says.

  “Grace!” Mom rushes down the hall toward us, out of breath and pale. “Is everything all right?”

  Mom gives the boy a quick glance as he ducks into the nurse’s office.

  “Bunny attack,” I explain.

  “Why are you here?” she asks. My old mom — the one who I had before the vortex turned our lives upside down, the one who I could laugh with and tell anything to, who I could shop with and dance to pop music with — would have at least smiled at the idea of an evil bunny. But the new post-vortex version of my mother doesn’t seem to have a sense of humor anymore.

  I close my notebook and get to my feet. I don’t want to worry her. “It’s no big deal,” I tell her. “Just taking a little longer to adjust to school.”

  She wrings her hands. “You promised you were going to be a normal girl as much as possible, at least while you could.”

  “I know. It’s not always up to me.”

  She frowns. “I’m sorry about calling your phone this morning. This was supposed to be my first day back at work, but then, I don’t know, I couldn’t go.” Her eyes get glossy and she looks down.

  The principal’s door opens and he ushers us inside. I swallow the lump in my throat. Mom loves her part-time job at the local newspaper, and I had hoped returning to work would help her get back to her old self.

  I only half listen as the principal tells my mother that they’re all very pleased I am fully recovered from whatever led to my hospital stay, and that they will help me to adjust any way they can. Guess I’m not in trouble. Mom looks relieved, but the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep are still as dark. I have accepted my destiny and the responsibilities that will one day go along with it. But for my parents, there’s just too much worry.

  Her voice cracks as she thanks the principal, and something cracks within me. My heart starts beating faster, and I feel that little spark inside me grow warmer. I take a deep breath, and it grows warmer still. That’s interesting. I take another, deeper breath, and now I can feel the energy inside me build. I glance at the little silver clock on the edge of the principal’s desk just in time to see the second hand jerk to a stop.

  I blink and look again. It hasn’t budged. Then I look around me. Mom and Principal Rees look like they’re in a movie that just froze on the screen, the characters stuck in midsentence.

  I jump up from my chair and run out into the hall. The hallway is completely empty except for a girl kneeling on the floor, stopped in the middle of yanking a sweatshirt out of her locker. I watch to see if she’s going to stand. She doesn’t. I stand still for a few minutes, not sure what to do. Then the echo of footsteps pounding the floor reaches me from both directions. One after the other, the members of Team Grace round the corners of the hallways and I breathe a sigh of relief that I’m not in this alone. Leo reaches me first. “Where i
s it?” he asks, peeking around behind me. He’s like an eager puppy trying to find a hidden bone.

  “Where’s what?”

  “The pizza!”

  I would laugh, but I’m too freaked out. “No pizza this time, sorry.”

  He pretends to pout, then says, “Oh well! What’s going on, then?”

  Connor reaches us before I can answer. He throws his arms around me. “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

  I untangle myself from his arms as the girls reach us. Tara and Rory are laughing about something on Rory’s phone, and Amanda looks, well, kind of annoyed, actually. She quickly rearranges her face, but I saw what I saw.

  “Well, this is different,” Connor declares. “I was sitting in math class and Mr. Nelson had just announced a pop quiz and I was like, dude, on the third day of school? Really? And then everyone suddenly froze in the middle of whatever they were doing. The kid behind me was midsneeze and all these gross droplets of snot just hung in the air. And if it grossed me out, you know it was gross. Then it was like I knew right where to find you. I think this may be the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  Tara pats Connor on the shoulder. “Oh, you poor, delusional boy. This isn’t even close to the weirdest thing that’s going to happen to you.”

  “Thanks, New Girl,” he says. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

  “Where’s David?” Amanda asks.

  We all look around. No David.

  “I don’t know his schedule yet,” Tara says. “Maybe history class? Or is it art?”

  “We should try to find him,” Amanda says. “This is the first time he’s experienced magic like this. He might be totally freaking out. I know I was when it happened to me.”

  “You’re right,” Leo says, suddenly serious. “It can be really scary the first time. Especially when you’re alone.” He reaches for Amanda’s hand. Is it my imagination, or does she flinch for a split second before taking it?

  “Or …” Rory says, “what if David’s frozen like everyone else? Maybe he’s not able to feel the magic after all. Maybe once his dad came home, his part in all this was over?”

  No one answers. Tara looks like someone punched her. She turns to me and says, “That would be awful. He was left out of everything that happened with me when I first came here, and then he was away when you were in your coma thing, and he so badly wants to help you after everything you did for his dad. If he —”

  But she doesn’t get to finish her thought. The door to a bathroom a few feet away from us suddenly swings open. Out walks David, tucking in his shirt. He stops when he sees us, then grins. “Hey, guys! What are you all doing out here?”

  Tara runs up and throws her arms around him. His glasses go flying off. Amanda runs over and hands them to him. “Now this feels familiar!” she says.

  “Wow,” David says, sliding his glasses back on. “If I knew I’d get a hug every time I came out of the bathroom, I’d chug water all day long! But, seriously, did I miss the memo about cutting class?”

  Tara takes him by the arm and leads him to the doorway of the closest classroom. She points inside.

  “I don’t get it,” David says after a few seconds. “Why aren’t they moving?”

  “Grace stopped time,” Tara says plainly.

  “Say what now?” he replies. He looks around at the rest of us.

  “It’s true,” Connor says. “Crazy, right, Hamburglar? My little sister can stop time!”

  I feel a tingle of pride, but mostly fear. I blurt out, “What if I can’t start it again?”

  Rory puts her hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you tell us what happened.”

  I explain about the trips to the principal, and how my mom is here, and about how I can’t stand the way all this is affecting my parents. Then I get to the part about the clock stopping, and as the words leave my mouth, I realize the connection. “I know! Right when I made the decision that I had to do something for my parents, time stopped.”

  “But what can you do?” David asks. “You can’t make them forget it all happened. Or can you? I don’t really understand how any of this works.”

  “I … I don’t know if I can,” I admit. “I don’t even know where I’d begin.”

  “Angelina used to make potions a long time ago,” Tara says. “Maybe there’s one for making people forget.”

  “But it wouldn’t just be our parents,” Connor points out. “It would have to be everyone who knew about Grace going to the hospital, which in this town is practically everyone. And the hospital staff, too.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “But how would I possibly be able to do that?”

  “You stopped TIME!” Rory points out. “And you don’t even have most of your powers back.”

  “Good point,” I admit.

  “Let’s go to Angelina’s house after school,” Tara suggests. “She has a huge herb garden in the front yard. Maybe you can figure out how to combine them in the right way or something.”

  “I don’t think we’re supposed to wait that long,” Leo says, pointing behind us. I turn around to see Ray striding down the hall toward us.

  “Where to?” he asks, holding up his keys.

  Five minutes later, we’re all piled into Ray’s car and heading onto Main Street.

  “I would have taken the boss’s SUV,” he explains, “but it wouldn’t turn on. Only my little guy worked.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him. “And I’m sorry about all this. I’m sure you were in the middle of something.”

  “No worries, mate,” he says. “I’ve seen stranger things.”

  “This is like Frogger!” Connor shouts as our car darts between all the cars stopped dead in the road.

  I’m sitting on Connor’s lap in the back, squished between David and Rory. My mind is shooting in all directions. How did I do this? Do I even have the right to do this?

  “Are you okay?” Rory asks.

  I shake my head. “I keep thinking about how the whole world is stopped right now,” I tell her. “Babies are in the middle of being born, couples are in the middle of getting married. Airplanes are in the middle of takeoff!” I shiver. “Isn’t this dangerous? Or wrong somehow, to play with people’s lives who we don’t even know?”

  Amanda turns around from the front seat. “I don’t think it works that way. Leo and I had a lot of time to think about it over the last few years. I think what happens when you or Angelina stops time is that it’s not like time is actually stopped, like someone pressed the PAUSE button on the world. It’s more like you opened up a crack in time, and we slipped inside. We’re the ones in a place with no time, not them. So from their point of view, nothing has changed. Does that make sense?”

  I go over her words in my head as I look out the car window at the world frozen around us. The leaves are stuck mid-sway, the birds mid-glide. “So basically, I didn’t stop time at all, I just pulled us out of it.”

  “Exactly,” Amanda says, smiling warmly.

  I return her smile, glad that she seems back to normal. Maybe she had been in the middle of a really good class before, and that’s why she’d been annoyed in the hallway.

  Angelina’s house looks totally different from what I’d expected. Actually, I don’t know what I’d expected. It’s hard to picture her living anywhere as ordinary as a house. But I know we’re at the right place, not only because of the GO AWAY sign or the strong smell of apples or the neatly labeled herb and flower gardens, but because I can see her everywhere. There she is leaning over the birdbath; there she is picking a basketful of thistle and a pinch of rosemary.

  I can hear her talking to herself, too, calculating how much she needs of this or that, and whether to boil, grind, or blend it into a cream. I can see her rushing about with long brown hair streaming behind her, and swinging on a porch rocker that is no longer here. Sometimes a young version of Bucky is by her side, and they are talking and laughing or sometimes arguing, but mostly she’s alone. Her hair gradually
turns white as snow as season after season flies by in a blur.

  I shake my head to get rid of the ghostly images. It doesn’t work. Tara is talking to me, so I force myself to focus on what she’s saying.

  “My mom has been taking care of the gardens since a few days after Angelina left,” she says. “I help her sometimes, so if you tell me what you need, I can show you where it is.”

  “I thought your mom hated Angelina?” Leo asks her.

  “Don’t say hate,” Rory and Tara reply at the same time.

  “Sorry,” he says, holding up his hands. “I thought your mom strongly disliked Angelina after that whole ruining-her-life thing.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Tara says. “I think coming here gives her some sort of closure. It brings her life full circle or something. Hey, look!” She points up to the top of one of the trees in front of the house. “It’s Flo and Max! And they’re not frozen!”

  We all watch as the two hawks swoop down from the tree and land on the edge of the empty birdbath in the center of the yard. They start grooming each other as though they’re yanked out of the normal stream of time every day.

  “Did you bring them with us on purpose?” Connor asks me.

  I shake my head. I don’t want to tell him that I didn’t bring any of them on purpose, either. If I did, I would have brought Bailey, too. She always has good ideas and I could use one right about now.

  “Holy hamsters, Batman!” Bailey exclaims from somewhere behind me. “So this is the kind of thing you guys are always talking about!”