Doorways to Infinity (9 page)

“Even if they did, they wouldn’t believe it, except for the conspiracy-theory crowd. They’ll believe anything, as long as it’s crazy.”

“Speaking of magic, I have a question about your father. He says he doesn’t have any power, and I don’t sense any in him, but sometimes….” He pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head. “Sometimes he seems to know things, and do things, that the average person shouldn’t be able to. Do you know what I mean?”

“My father,” she said with a drawn out sigh, then put her thumbnail between her teeth and looked out of the front windows before turning back to him. “He can be that way at home, sometimes. I’ve seen him around our tribal leaders, and they all defer to him like he’s somebody important, even though he’s never held office in the council, as far as I know. Members of the western band of our tribe treat him that way, too, when they’re in town. He used to take me to some of the meetings when I was young and I felt really special because of the respect they showed him. It’s odd, because now he seems like just a lazy old man to me.”

She pulled at a stray wisp of her black hair and seemed to be collecting her thoughts. “He lives in a small mobile home on my property, and I have to go back there at least once a week to get him to clean up his kitchen and gather up his laundry, and then bring it up to the house to wash it. Otherwise, he’d just let it mold. He’d be happy to just sit outside in the shade of his favorite tree and carve all day long.”

“Do you have any idea how old he is?”

She shook her head. “He’s been old my whole life. He was old when he met my mother, though she wasn’t exactly young, either. She was forty-one when they got married.”

“Where is she now?”

“She died of lung cancer about seven years ago. She was a smoker.”

“Sorry to hear that. Any other kids in your family?”

“Just me, so I had my father all to myself, mostly, which I thought was great when I was younger, until I realized how lazy he is.”

“But you don’t know his actual age?”

“Tough question.” Her gaze dropped to the counter top before rising again to meet his. “You know about the Trail of Tears, don’t you? Well, sometimes my father talks about it like he was there, as if he actually walked it with the rest of our people. That’s impossible because it was so long ago. But when I call my father out on it, he laughs and says he’s just an old, confused Indian, telling stories. He may be old, but he’s not confused. He’s sharp. He just doesn’t like to work very hard.”

“So what do you think all that means?”

“I don’t know. My father is an enigma. He always has been and he always will be.”

By this time, Sammi had made her way to the counter and joined them. Annie said, “Did you find anything you like?”

“Yes ma’am.” Sammi was staring at something on the wall behind Annie. It was a framed print, depicting two Native Americans, a young man and a young woman, both dressed in buckskin clothes, standing close together and facing each other. The man was holding a hunting bow down by his side, and the woman extended both hands to him, offering him something, a beaded necklace. The man’s gaze wasn’t on it, though, it was on the woman, and his lips were parted as if he’d just caught his breath, his eyes soft and shining as she greeted him.

Sammi pointed at the print and said, “That’s it. That’s perfect.”

“Why do you want to get your parents that?” Jamie asked.

“Because the people in the picture are in love. The man can’t see anything but her, because she’s not offering him a necklace, she’s offering her heart. They love each other, and my Mommy and Daddy love each other, and I love them and they love me.” She nodded firmly. “That’s why I want it.”

Annie smiled. “What a lovely thing to say. How old are you?”

“Seven.”

“You have a poetic soul for such a young girl. The print costs ninety-nine dollars, though. Do you have that much money?”

“Oh.” Sammi’s face fell. “I only have twelve dollars.”

Jamie pulled out his wallet and inventoried its contents, but shook his head. “I only have enough for our milkshakes, Sammi. I can’t help you right now.”

“Well,” Annie said, “would you like for me to hold it for a few days until you can get the rest of the money together?”

Her chin dropped and she said in a quiet voice, “I only get five dollars a week for allowance. I had more money, but I spent most of it on Leora’s shoes.”

“Who’s Leora?” Annie said.

“She’s my friend from Rivershire. She comes to my house to visit sometimes, but she’s embarrassed about her shoes and everything, so I used my allowance to buy her some sneakers so she won’t feel bad when we play outside with my other friends.”

Annie’s brow creased and she turned to Jamie. He said, “Leora lives on Eddan’s world. We got Sammi’s two buddies from the neighborhood to do the oath so they could all play together.”

“I’ve heard my father talk about that world,” Annie said. “He loves it there, almost like it’s a sacred place.”

“We love it, too,” Jamie said. “Leora and Sammi got to be friends this summer, and I make a portal for them once in a while so they can see each other. They dress really old-fashioned in Rivershire, with long dresses and leather ankle-high boots and stuff, and she looks out of place when she comes to Hendersonville.”

“I loan her some of my clothes when she comes,” Sammi said, “’cause we’re the same size, but my shoes don’t fit her. So I bought her some with my money, ’cause she’s my best friend.”

“That’s really sweet, Sammi,” Annie said, “and I wish I could sell you the print cheaper, but most of the money goes to the artist. She’s a friend of mine.”

Sammi’s chin dropped all the way to her chest. Then Jamie had an idea. “How about a trade, Annie?” he said.

“Maybe. What do you have to offer?”

“Magic healing jelly. Show her, Sammi.”

Sammi opened her purse, pulled out the small plastic container and offered it to Annie, who took it and eyed it carefully. “What’s so magic about it?”

“It can heal small wounds and burns almost instantly. Pretty darn amazing stuff. I can show you how well it works, if you want. Do you have something you can scratch me with, like a knife or a safety pin?”

“I have a box cutter.” Annie handed the jelly back to Sammi, opened a drawer under the counter and took out the metal tool.

Jamie held out his arm to her.

“No. You could be using your magic on yourself. I’ll scratch my arm, instead.” She held the point of it to her skin and paused. “Any special way to do this?”

“Not really. Do you have something you can blot it with after you do it?”

She gestured with a nod toward a small cardboard box by the cash register. “Got some Kleenex right there.”

“Okay then. Scratch away.”

She dragged the blade across her skin, making a two-inch long wound. Jamie cringed, but Annie didn’t even blink. Blood immediately began seeping out, and she grabbed a tissue and pressed it on her arm. “Now what?”

“We put the jelly on it,” Jamie said.

“Can I do it?” Sammi took the cap off the container and scooped out a dab of the greenish-yellow goo with two fingers.

“Take the tissue off,” Jamie said. The Cherokee woman did and lowered her forearm to Sammi.

Sammi spread the healing jelly over the scratch and it stopped bleeding almost immediately. They all leaned closer to watch, and the skin around the wound quickly began to knit together, and in less than a minute, sealed over the injury completely. After another minute, it looked like a faint pink line, and then faded completely before their eyes.

“Oh…wow,” Annie said softly. “That was incredible!” She rubbed the spot with her thumb and her mouth formed a crooked grin. “Really, really incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“So, do you think that’s a fair trade?” Jamie asked. “The jelly for the picture?”

She considered the container for several seconds, then said, “Here’s my offer. The healing jelly plus the twelve dollars. The cash will go to me, because that’s about what I would’ve made off of it if I’d sold it to someone else, and I’ll give the jelly to the artist.”

“You think she’ll be okay with that?” Jamie asked.

“I’m sure. But if she doesn’t like it, I’ll pay her for the print myself and keep the jelly. I wouldn’t mind having some.”

“I can get Fred to make a new batch and drop some by this weekend. She’s working at a gift shop right around the corner.”

“I don’t want her to go to any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, Miss Annie,” Sammi said. “The potion is easy to make and she buys the little jars of jelly at the Dollar Store. She makes a bunch of them at once and gives them to almost everybody that knows about our magic.”

“Really,” Jamie said, “Fred won’t mind.”

“That would be great,” Annie said. “I have one more favor to ask, though, if it’s not too much. I’d like to visit that other world. I want to see Rivershire, because my father talks about it so much. Could you make a doorway for me sometime?”

“No problem. When do you want to go?”

“Not over the next couple of weeks. One of the other girls who works for me is out of town, so I need to be here in the store.”

“Okay, whenever you’re ready. I’ll be back at school next week, though. If you want to, you can do like your father and use the permanent doorway that I made in my grandfather’s warehouse. It opens up right across the street from the school.”

“So, what do I do? Do I just go to this warehouse and somebody will show me the magic doorway?”

“Sort of. It’s got a hex on it, so you can’t get through it without a counter charm. My grandfather will have to give you a bracelet for that. I’ll let him know you’re coming.” He took his phone from his pocket and snapped Annie’s picture with it. “I’ll see him tomorrow and I’ll show this to him so he knows what you look like.”

“I know that my father likes to go to Rivershire and ride your horse.”

“You want to ride her? She’s a great horse.”

“Could I? I haven’t ridden in a long time. I miss it.”

“Let me know when you want to go, and I’ll get word to Aiven to bring Sugar to the school. Sometimes he rides his bike instead. That way Sugar will be there for you, and he’ll help you saddle her up.”

“He has a bike? I thought it was a low-technology world.”

“That’s something new. I’m afraid we started a craze there.”

“My mommy got Leora one,” Sammi said, “and now everybody wants one.”

“I have a mountain bike,” Annie said. “Maybe I could take that, instead.”

“But you’d rather ride the horse,” Sammi said.

Annie laughed. “Yes, that’s true.” Then she nodded. “So it’s all settled, then. The print in exchange for the healing jelly and twelve dollars, plus a visit to Rivershire. I’ll wrap the print in brown paper for you so you can carry it home.”

Chapter 5

Carl had just settled into the recliner in the family room, newspaper spread across his lap and ready to relax after a hard day at work, when the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Rachel called from the kitchen. A minute later, she leaned her head out of the doorway and said, “That was Mrs. Wysoki. She’s worried about a strange van that’s been parked across the street from her house for the last two days. She said it looks suspicious.”

Carl closed his eyes and groaned, “Why did we ever give her our phone number? She’s always calling about some little thing or another.”

“Can you go check it out? I’m a little paranoid about vans myself, after what happened to Sammi. Don’t forget about Mr. Gundy and his van.”

He folded the newspaper and pushed himself up from the recliner. “Guess it won’t hurt to go have a look.”

He went out on the front porch and peered down the street in the direction of the neighborhood busybody, Mrs. Wysoki, who lived two doors down from Fred. Opposite the old widow’s house, parked against the curb, was a dark blue, full-sized Ford van with tinted windows, facing away from Carl.
I suppose that does look suspicious
.

He went back inside and found his service revolver where he’d left it earlier, still hanging in its holster on the back of a chair by the kitchen, and he strapped it onto his waist.

Rachel’s brow lined deeply as she watched him put on his weapon. “Is it that serious?”

“Probably not, but you never know. I’d rather be prepared.” He pulled his lightweight coat on and zipped it up to cover the gun. “Have you seen Jamie?”

“He’s in his room, I think.”

“Could you get him for me, please?”

Minutes later, Carl and Jamie went to investigate the van in question. They walked cautiously down the street toward it; the air had turned unseasonably cold and a few snowflakes drifted down. Jamie said in a low voice, “So, what do you need me for?”

“I want you to tell me if there’s anyone in it,” Carl said. “You can do that with your magic hearing, can’t you?”

Jamie crept up to the side of the dark vehicle and pressed one ear to it. After a few seconds, he stepped away and whispered, “I hear two heartbeats, and a faint humming, like from electrical equipment.”

Carl unzipped his coat to allow easier access to his gun and to reveal his detective’s badge pinned on his belt. Then he rapped the knuckles of one hand on the driver’s door. “This is the police. Please step outside of your vehicle.” There was no answer, and he repeated his demand and added, “You have ten seconds or I will break your window and forcibly enter.”

After a short pause, the driver’s door opened and a man came out with his hands up. He was taller than Carl and lean, with short, receding dark hair. He wore black slacks and black leather shoes, and a white dress shirt with no tie. “I’m unarmed,” he said.

“Your partner, too.” Carl gestured at the vehicle.

Carl heard some bumping noises from inside the vehicle, and the passenger door opened. A woman stepped out, trim and athletic-looking, with medium-length dark blond hair.

“Ashley?” Jamie’s brow creased deeply.

Carl glanced at Jamie and said, “You know her?”

“She’s in my Environmental Science class, but I’m pretty sure her name isn’t Ashley.” He glared at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t have to answer that.”