"How can it be more or less? She either did or she didn't."

"I think Mirina meant to do it, but when she actually did do it, she didn't mean to. It was an accident."

"Oh, Belle! What kind of sense does *that* make?"

---

 

38. Nobody Judges You
 

"So... how do you like New Jersey?" Cassie asked me, once we were out of sight of my house. "Do you have a new boyfriend yet?" Before I could answer she added, "Oh— do you *really* go to an all-girls school? That just seems so out-of-character for you."

"Um... it's been wild," I said, answering her first question.

"Oh, I know about all the crazy stuff," she said. "I read the news every day. It's amazing to see someone I know written up so much! You just go from one adventure to the next! Oh, hey! Is that Missy girl really super-rich?"

"Maisie," I corrected. "I guess so... She has a... trust fund. Her father is rich." This wasn't really something I wanted to talk about.

"Hmmph," Cassie said. "Look at all this snow! That's going to take some getting used to. There's NEVER snow in Tierson. So anyway, maybe I'll meet this Maisie girl, now that I'll be on this side of the country."

"Will you? Are you definitely going to Princeton?"

"Definitely. I'm going down there tonight." Cassie turned to me and smiled. Then she yawned, and as she did, she raised one of her hands behind her head. Instinctively I covered my butt with both hands. Cassie looked at me with a puzzled smile.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"I thought you were going to whack me on the butt," I confessed, feeling foolish and embarrassed.

"Why would I do that?" she retorted.

I sighed heavily. "It's another crazy story."

"Everything with you is a crazy story! So tell me! This ought to be a good one."

"First, can I ask you what your father does for a living?"

"What my father does? What does that— okay, okay: he's a research scientist. I can't tell you what he works on, because he can't tell us. It's all top-secret stuff."

"Oh," I said, disappointed.

"Why is that bad?" she asked.

"I was hoping you'd say he was a shoe salesman or something."

"What!? Why?"

I told her the story of my time as Marcie Auburn. She laughed a good deal, and her eyebrows bounced up in astonishment more than once. When I was finished, she said, "That's pretty weird. You had two dreams... in one night, or whatever... that seemed like they were real. That's pretty odd."

"No," I said. "They didn't seem like they were real. They were real." I sighed. "I mean, it was as real as this here, now. There was no way to tell it apart."

"Apart from what?"

"Apart from ordinary reality."

"Well," she said, "If it really had happened, I'd be one of the few people who'd know, right? But none of that stuff happened, ever. AND my mother isn't a twin. I don't have an Aunt Julia."

"Is your mother named Juliette?"

"Yes, but that's the *only* thing in your dream that was right. Like, the way you describe the bedrooms is all wrong. The only one you got right is Nina's. You make it sound like the second floor has all these rooms coming off a tiny hallway, but it isn't like that. And everything is in a different place than where you think. For instance, the laundry isn't in the basement, because we don't have a basement."

Cassie shifted so she could walk on the snow. It crunched softly beneath her boots. She went on talking. "And my bedroom... There is no bathroom off my bedroom, and the walls aren't lavender. They're cream. And what else? Oh, yeah! My mother is actually quite good at decorating and at choosing clothes, so that's wrong, too. If I tell her what you dreamt about her, she'd be SO offended!"

Then she gave me a funny glance. "And speaking of offended... Do you really think, if I was your older sister, that I would be so mean to you?"

I didn't look up. "It was just a dream," I said.

Cassie laughed. "I ought to whack your butt for thinking that I'd whack your butt."

I lifted my head, which suddenly seemed very heavy, so I could look at her. Her laughing expression quickly fell away and was replaced by a look of concern.

"I think we'd better head back," she said. "All of a sudden you don't look so good."

In fact, my energy was fading. I wanted to get back into bed. By the time we got to my house, I realized that I'd taken her arm at some point and was leaning heavily upon it.

Once we were inside Cassie passed me to my mother, who held me up by squeezing me to her with one arm. Cassie said a worried goodbye. She wanted to give me a hug, but Mom cautioned against it.

"You don't want to catch what she's got," Mom said. "And don't worry — she'll be fine."

"I'll be back sometime next summer," she said. "Bye, Marcie. Thanks for lunch, Mrs. Donner."

Mom closed the door and said to me, "Oh, little girl, you better get back upstairs and into bed! You look awful."

"I feel awful," I said.

"I shouldn't have pushed you to go out," Mom told me as she touched my cheek. "You're burning up again."

My legs felt like lead as I slowly climbed the stairs. Mom helped me undress, and I slid under the covers without putting my pajamas on. "I'll put them on later, when I have the energy," I said.

I closed my eyes and was out like a light.
 

---

 

The last time I fell asleep, back on the island... I didn't really fall asleep. I fainted, or lost consciousness or something. That time, I found myself in darkness and silence.

This time, in my dreamworld, there was no darkness and no silence. Instead, there was light: a fuzzy, diffuse yellow-white light. And there wasn't noise exactly: there was a sound. It was the sound of a female voice talking... talking and talking... like someone talking on the phone... or reading a story aloud... but I couldn't make out the words.

Ba ba bababa beeba, she was saying. Bee bee boh boh bu. Mmmmm machuchi cha.

"Where am I?" I muttered to myself. The voice seemed to hear and understand, because she answered me.

"Bay bay bay," she told me. "Nnnn kay kay. Mimph mee."

I understood the last two words: with me. I drew a deep breath, and fell into a heavy sleep.
 

---

 

Consciousness came back slowly. The air was dry and cool. I was lying on a camp bed covered by a rough blanket that chafed my breasts.

I was back on the island.

Mirina's voice asked, "Is ha— Did the fever break?"

A hand touched my forehead and cheek, and Ding-Dong answered, "Yes. I think she's waking up."

"She—" scoffed Mirina, but Ding-Dong shushed her.

When Mirina's footsteps exited the cave, I half-opened my eyes. "Where am I?" I murmured.

"You're in the cave, in the the cage," Ding-Dong said. "With me."

"Oh, okay," I said, and lifted my head enough to sip the water she offered. "What happened to my clothes?"

"Oh," Ding-Dong replied sadly, "It's yucky. You threw up and fell into your... your sick... uh, you know."

"Yuck," I breathed.

"So Mirina and Knickers took your clothes off, and that's when we found out..."

My eyes snapped open. "Oh, no," I said.

"It's okay," Ding-Dong said. "Nobody judges you."

"Really?" I asked. I propped myself up on one elbow and looked around. The two of us were inside the pantry, in the cave. The two barrels of water stood in the corner, and shelves full of supplies filled the walls. Metal bars separated us from the great room in the cave. "Do you think I could have some of my clothes? This blanket chafes like mad."

"Oh, sure," Ding-Dong replied. "Your bags are right here." She helped me slide my legs off the edge of the bed. Then she heaved me up to a sitting position. I carefully covered my lap and legs with the blanket.

"Whoo," I said. "I think I'm okay now." But when I bent to look in my bag, the room turned into a tilt-a-whirl. The floor became the ceiling, the walls shot beneath me, and everything — shelves, barrels, bars — spun all around me. I wasn't sure where I'd land if I fell.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Ding-Dong exclaimed. She caught me by the arms and helped me lie back down.

"Sorry!" she said. "It looked like you were going to dive head-first into the floor!"

"The room started spinning," I gasped. I gripped the sides of the bed as it pitched and rolled beneath me. It felt as if were back on ship, in the storm. "Are we moving, Ding-Dong? Is it an earthquake or something?"

"No," she said. "Everything is standing still. Take some deep breaths, and maybe it'll pass."

Gritting my teeth, I took a few experimental breaths, and tried letting go of the bed. I opened my eyes, and gradually the movement stopped.

"If you tell me what you want from your bag I can get it for you," Ding-Dong offered.

"Pajamas," I whispered. A few moments later she helped me slip them on, being careful not to disturb the blanket covering me. She slid my pajama bottoms up as high as my knees, and I brought them up the rest of the way.

"Thanks," I told her. She dabbed at my face with a wet towel. As she did, I realized I was soaked with perspiration.

Exhausted, I let go and went falling down the well of darkness. In an instant, I was asleep again.
 

The next time I woke up, I asked, "Am I still on the island?"

"Yes," Ding-Dong replied. "We're not rescued yet."

"Is there any news of Wiggy?"

"No." She paused. "Marcie, you really should have told somebody."

"Yeah, I know," I admitted.

"Mirina is furious."

"I bet."

"She's scared, too. Scared for Wiggy."

"Yeah." I wasn't completely registering everything Ding-Dong said. I mean, I knew what she was saying, but I felt so physically awful that it was just a bunch of words to me... Until she said one thing that broke through.

"Wiggy could be dead, Marcie. Do you realize that?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. A vivid mental picture came to me of Wiggy struggling in the middle of the ocean. It was like a scene from a movie: Wiggy, seen from above, fighting, splashing, reaching for something... try to grasp something solid, but finding only water. Nothing but her face and arms, and her face... terrified, desperate, losing...

Wiggy... dead? If she was, it was all my fault. I should have told someone... Cakey, Mirina, even Ding-Dong. I could have sabotaged the dory so she couldn't leave. I could have hacked some giant holes in the thing and blamed it on Mirina's mystery man.

After all, wasn't *I* Mirina's mystery man?

I groaned and struggled to get out of bed. It was difficult.

"What are you doing?" Ding-Dong asked.

"I'm trying to get up," I told her. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Oh," Ding-Dong said, though it sounded more like oh, no. "Uh, Marcie, is it number one or number two?"

"What difference does it make?"

"It makes a big difference," she said with a sigh. "Well, either way, we have to put a plastic bag in that can in the corner and—"

"You're kidding me!" I protested. Shades of my kidnapping! "Why can't we just go out to the latrine, or the port-a-potty, or whatever you want to call it? If you help me a little I can make it."

"We can't go because we're locked in here," Ding-Dong said.

"What?"

"When Mirina found out that you're a... that you have the, um, boy thing down there, then... well, she was already mad about Wiggy taking off in the dory..."

"So she locked me in here?"

Ding-Dong shrugged. "More or less."

"How can it be more or less? She either did or she didn't."

"I think she meant to do it, but when she actually did do it, she didn't mean to. It was an accident."

"Oh, Belle! What kind of sense does *that* make?"

"I was in here, carrying your bags in, and Marina was fiddling with the latch. Then, all of a sudden, she broke it."

"She broke the lock?"

Belle nodded. "And now she can't get it open."

"So that's why you're in here with me."

"Right."

"And nobody can fix the lock."

"Mirina doesn't want anybody to. Yet, anyway."

I huffed, "I thought you said that no one judged me."

"Well... I know that *I* don't..."

I looked into her anxious face. How could I be angry with her? Mirina, the others, I'd have to see about later, once I felt better. For now, it was just me and Ding-Dong. "Thanks, Belle." I said, and she squeezed my hand.

After a moment of silence, I used the can while Belle stood facing the opposite corner with her hands over her ears. I tied the bag off and set it outside the bars. Then I lay back down on the bed and closed my eyes.

"Hey," Ding-Dong said softly. "I hope you don't mind, but I read your book. You were asleep for a long time, and I had nothing to do."

"Oh, the fairy tales? Did you like it?"

"It was pretty strange. All those boys turning into girls. It got to be a little repetitious."

"I didn't read it."

"Did they give that to you when you, you know, changed?" she asked.

They? "No, my mother bought it for me for Christmas."

We were silent again, and then a thought occurred to me. "Ding-Dong? Belle? You know the title story? Princess Marcellina? How does it come out? I read it up to the point where she becomes a boy."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "That was the weirdest one! It was SO complicated! I don't even remember. If you want, I can read it to you."

"Okay," I agreed. "That might be nice."

"It will help pass the time," she said.

© 2008 by Kaleigh Way

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