Six (28 page)

Parker pressed down on his wrist.
Is this really a good idea, Emma?
he asked. He wanted Polly to come with them just as much as Emma did, but it didn't seem like the best idea, given that they were doing everything they could to not draw attention to themselves.

I'm not leaving her,
Emma replied firmly.

“All done,” said Mai. She stood up to survey the now rosy pink pig and shook her head. “This is now officially the strangest night of my life.”

*  *  *  *  *  *

Brendan was waiting by the car when they finally emerged from the house. Emma and Parker carefully lifted Polly onto the floor of the passenger seat and put her down on the towel that Michael had provided—“just in case.” Once she was settled, Emma and Michael climbed into the car, and Parker, wearing a navy blazer, dark trousers, and a white shirt, rolled his new suitcase over to the back and lifted it into the trunk. Both his and Emma's suitcases were stuffed full of the clothes Mai had brought—none of which Parker had any intention of ever wearing. Mai seemed to think that they needed different outfits for the shoot. Parker guessed the real reason was that turning up without luggage would arouse suspicion.

Brendan slammed the trunk shut. “I can't believe we're doing this,” he said.

“Me neither,” said Parker. He walked around to the passenger door and climbed in to find Emma crying.

“What happened?” asked Parker, alarmed.

Emma looked up at Parker and signed.

“Oh,” replied Parker awkwardly. “I'll . . . um . . . miss you too, Michael.”

Michael grimaced and gulped loudly, and Parker realized he was trying to stop himself from crying too.

“You okay?” asked Parker.

Michael coughed quietly and shook himself. “Fine. Sorry.” He forced a smile. “It's not like I'm not going to see you again anyway, right? I'll see you when you come back.”

“If we come back,” added Parker quietly.

“When you come back,” corrected Michael.

“Come back from where?” asked Mai from the front passenger seat. “How long are you filming for?”

Parker had completely forgotten Mai was there. “Oh . . . it's going to be all night.”

“Oh. Right,” said Mai. She turned to Brendan. “Kids are weird,” she muttered.

Brendan smiled. “They sure are,” he said. He looked up at the rearview mirror. “Got everything?”

Parker nodded.

“Then let's do this,” said Brendan.

*  *  *  *  *  *

As they had agreed with Solomon on their way there, Brendan turned onto a dirt track a short drive past the hospital's entrance and switched the headlights off. Almost immediately Solomon stepped out from behind a tree and hurried over, a small leather suitcase in hand. Even under the darkening sky Solomon's appearance was alarming, but at least Parker knew what to expect. Brendan and Mai, despite both having been forewarned about Solomon's “condition,” were both clearly shocked. Parker heard Brendan draw a sharp breath, but he said nothing. Mai's reaction was not quite so restrained.

“What
is
that? Is it contagious? I'm not touching him.”

“He's not contagious,” said Michael.

“He's fine,” insisted Parker.

Mai shook her head in disbelief. “My sister owes me. Big time,” she said as the door next to Parker opened.

“Perfect timing,” said Solomon, smiling. “Wow,” he said, looking at Parker and then at Emma. “You really do look different.”

He leaned forward and introduced himself to Brendan, who shook his hand—apparently over the shock—and Mai, who managed to squeak out a small hi.

“You've got quite a job on your hands,” said Solomon. Mai nodded, and at the same time Polly—who until now had been resting quietly by Emma's feet—grunted.

Solomon flinched in surprise and then looked down. For a moment he said nothing.

“Either I'm sicker than I thought, or there's a pig in the car,” he said finally.

Emma nodded, and Polly, with perfect timing, gave another loud grunt.

“She's our pet. We want to take her with us,” explained Parker.

Solomon sighed. “You can't take her. No animals allowed—not even pets.”

“But . . .”
signed Emma,
“we can't leave her.”

“I don't know what to say, Emma,” said Solomon. “It can't happen. I'm sorry.”

Emma's eyes filled with tears.
“But what's going to happen to her?”
she signed. Parker translated.

“She can stay with me,” interrupted Michael. “I'll take good care of her, I promise.”

A tear rolled down Emma's cheek, but she didn't respond. Parker guessed that she, like him, had known it would be unlikely that Solomon would say yes.

“Are you okay?” asked Solomon. He placed his hand on her arm. “I'm so sorry.”

Emma wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and nodded. Solomon, perhaps realizing that there wasn't much more he could do to comfort her, leaned forward to Brendan.

“Okay if we find somewhere away from here to stop the car?” asked Solomon.

“No problem,” said Brendan. He put the headlights back on and turned the car around.

“I'm not going to miss that place one bit,” said Solomon as they drove past the gates of the hospital.

Mai looked past Brendan and did a double take upon seeing the sign.

“That's a psychiatric hospital,” she said.

“Just visiting a friend,” said Solomon calmly.

“At night?” whispered Mai.

“He's a bit of a night owl,” replied Solomon.

Mai didn't respond, but Parker could see her face in the mirror. She looked terrified.

“Okay here?” asked Brendan. “Or do you want me to go a bit farther?”

“No, this is fine. If you could just switch on the lights so Mai can work her magic. Mai?”

Mai hesitated for a moment and then opened the car door. Up until then, Parker hadn't given any thought to how Solomon could possibly disguise the way he looked. Mai was really going to have her work cut out, thought Parker. Judging by Mai's face as she climbed into the back, Parker figured she knew it too.

“I don't expect miracles,” said Solomon. “Just a bit of color to my skin and lips. Did you bring the glasses and wig?”

Mai nodded and reached into one of the bags by Parker's feet. She handed Solomon a dark black wig speckled with gray, and a pair of sunglasses.

“And I found the stick, too,” said Mai. She pulled out a small folded white stick and handed it to Solomon.

“I don't know how you managed all that in one afternoon. Excellent work, Mai. Thank you.”

Mai gave a small smile. It was clear that Solomon's charm was starting to work on her.

“You're going to pretend you're blind?” asked Parker. “Won't they take the glasses off before they, er, start filming?”

“No, it doesn't matter what you're wearing,” said Solomon.

He stopped talking as Mai reached out and gingerly dotted Solomon's gray face with blobs of beige. Parker had many more questions, but he couldn't find a way of wording any of them without giving the game away, so he kept silent until Mai was finished.

Solomon slipped on his glasses and brushed his hand over his new hairdo. Mai held up a mirror to him, and Solomon inspected his new look.

“You are very talented, Miss Chan. Very talented indeed.”

Parker couldn't believe the transformation. Solomon looked—almost—normal.

Mai blushed.

“Mai's cab should be there now,” said Solomon to Brendan. “First gas station you come to on the Thruway, heading north.”

“I know it,” said Brendan. “Let's go.”

*  *  *  *  *  *

Solomon spent the rest of the short journey making idle chat with Mai about her family. As soon as he'd waved her off with a reminder to send his best to her father and closed the door, he turned serious.

“Right, lots to do. Brendan, we have to be at Syracuse train station by half past ten—we can't be late.”

“Plenty of time,” said Brendan, pulling out of the gas station. “No traffic at this time of night.”

“Good, good,” said Solomon. “Thank you.”

He turned to Parker and Emma. “We have a lot to discuss. First, you're sure you want to do this?”

Parker and Emma nodded. Though nerves were starting to set in, the whole plan still seemed somewhat surreal. It was hard to believe, even though they'd said yes, that this was not some kind of a game. Believing it was made it easier to go along with it all.

“Very well,” said Solomon. “You'll need passports and papers.”

He pulled three passports from the inside of his suit jacket. “They're just for show. It's important that you follow me in line and don't give your papers to anybody but the person I give them to. Understood?”

“Yes,” said Parker.

“You're my children. I'm widowed. My name is James Marsh. You are Jennifer Marsh and Aaron Marsh.”

Parker groaned as Michael let out a small laugh.

“Aaron?” asked Parker. “Do I have to be?”

“Not my choice—that's what the passports say. Jenny and Aaron. Okay?”

Parker and Emma nodded.

“Parker, if you need to speak, you'll have to put on an American accent—can you do that?”

“Not really,” said Parker. “I'm no good at accents.”

“Do your best—they're not going to be testing you. Maybe try not to speak too much.”

“I won't speak at all,” said Parker.

“Okay, that's fine—I'll do all the talking. Emma—you are not deaf,” he said. “That'll draw attention to you. Just stay close to me and let me do all the talking. That goes for both of you.”

“What if they realize it's us?” asked Parker.

“They won't,” said Solomon. “Nobody's going to be expecting you to board the flight—they call it a flight, by the way. They won't be looking for you, or even know about you, probably. This is just the standard weekly departure for people going to work there. As long as we all keep our heads down and do our best to blend in, we'll be fine.”

A bright-red-haired boy, a mute girl, and a blind father. Parker couldn't see how they could possibly blend in.

“Will it hurt?”
signed Emma. Parker repeated the question.

“No, I promise you—you won't feel a thing.”

“Will Effie still work when we get there?” asked Parker.

“Effie?”

Parker pointed to his wrist.

“Oh. Yes, absolutely. You arrive exactly as you left.”

“We're here,” called Brendan.

“Then all we have to do now is say our good-byes,” said Solomon as Brendan pulled up at the drop-off point outside the busy station.

“Michael,” said Solomon. “I was sorry I didn't get a chance to answer all your questions from the other day. I had—”

“That's okay,” interrupted Michael. “Sorry I was rude.”

Solomon smiled. “Not rude—inquisitive and skeptical—both excellent qualities.” Solomon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gold key with a small brown tag hanging from it. He held it out and placed it into Michael's hand.

“What's this?” asked Michael.

“This,” said Solomon, “is a key to my laboratory. The address is on the tag. I haven't told anyone about it until now.”

“Laboratory?” asked Parker.

Solomon nodded. “When things began to take an unsettling turn at Avecto, I began to do some work of my own.”

“What work?”

“I started work on an Avectron.”

“You built a teleporter?” asked Michael incredulously. He was still staring at the gold key resting on his outstretched hand.

“No. I started work on it, but I was never able to finish it.”

“But . . . why are you giving it to me?”

“Two reasons,” said Solomon. “One: I'm a man of my word. I promised you an explanation, and this will explain everything. And two: I wanted to know this information would be left in capable hands.”

“I don't understand,” said Michael. “What do you want me to do?”

“Finish my work,” replied Solomon.

“But I don't know anything about this stuff,” said Michael. His eyes were wide with confusion.

Solomon smiled. “You'll work it out.”

Then, before Michael had a chance to reply, he turned to Brendan. “Thank you for taking care of them. And for driving us tonight.”

“Not a problem,” said Brendan. “My pleasure.”

Solomon opened the car door and stepped out as Michael silently put the key in his pocket. “Take care, Michael,” said Solomon. “Parker, Emma, you should say your good-byes here.”

Emma leaned over the front seat and gave Brendan a kiss, then turned to Michael and gave him a hug. Michael leaned forward but kept his arms at his sides, clearly feeling awkward. “Bye—” Michael held up his hand and slowly signed the letters
E
-
M
-
M
-
D
.

Emma smiled.
“Bye, Michael,”
she signed back. She got out of the car, leaving only Parker to say his good-byes.

“Thank you, Brendan. For everything.”

“You're welcome, Parker. It's been quite an adventure. You ever need anything, you know where I am.”

Parker turned to Michael. He didn't know where to begin.

“See you later, Aaron,” said Michael.

Parker smiled. “Ha ha,” he said. His face turned serious. “Are you going to do it?”

Michael knew what Parker meant. “I'm going to try.”

“So I'll see you there then, right?” said Parker. “This isn't good-bye.”

Michael shook his head. “I don't know. I hope so.”

For a moment neither of them spoke.