The Cinderella Theorem (21 page)

Ella
looked at me, waiting. She had apparently asked a question.

Since
“fault” plus “why” plus “shoe” do not in any way equal a question, I said, “I
don’t know, Ella.” I walked over and hugged her. “I don’t know how we can fix
it.” I adjusted our hug so I could look at her. “But I do know that we have to
keep you from vanishing. Little girls all over the world look up to you. They
dream of
being
you. What will their lives be like if you vanish?”

Ella
pushed away from me, sobbing harder. “That’s the worst of it.” She was crying,
breathing, and talking all at once–not a coherent mixture. “I’m a horrible
princess. I let my selfishness ruin my story. I let my husband vanish. I’m an
awful role model. No one should want to be
me
.”

“Ella,”
I started moving towards her.

She
sobbed again and vanished.

I
stood there for an entire minute, counting and thinking. I came to two separate
conclusions each with similar outcomes.

1. I
could not bring Ella back, so I shouldn’t stay.

And
2. I didn’t know if people (possibly Daniel and the trenchies) would swoop down
on the castle like police officers and CSIs to a crime scene. I could not
imagine a situation in which it would be advantageous to be hanging around when
they arrived, so I shouldn’t stay.

I
ran out of the castle, hopped on my bike (peddling at a velocity greater than
usual) and jumped off at our castle. I grabbed my marble out of the bowl,
headed for Arrivhall, and portaled to the safety of my bathroom. I immediately
snatched up my toothbrush and started brushing. Then, when I was finished, I
went to my room, closed my door, and lost myself in Algebra.

I
had finished thirty-four of the supplemental problems in the back of the
textbook, when Mom knocked on my door. “Lil?” she asked. Her voice sounded
tentative. “Can I come in?”

I
said nothing for a moment, finishing problem thirty-five. [x - (4 – x) = 20. Solve
for x.]
[49]
I wrote x = 12, and said, “Yeah, come in, Mom.”

She
looked tired. Mom’s hair is often a gauge of how hard she has worked. When she
comes to a problem in her story, she’ll pull a strand of hair out of the clip
and twist it. She says the twisting helps her solve the problem, but I haven’t
found that to be a theory supported by mathematics. She does the same thing
when she’s worried and today her hair was mostly out of the clip.

“How—?
What—?” She stopped and started again. “Calo—.” She shook her head and sat on
my bed. “When—?” She cut off and sighed.

“Just
say it, Mom.” Incoherence is very unmathematical.

She
took a deep breath. “Alright, Lily. The thing is, Calo and everyone at HEA
think you left work after Aven vanished.”

I
opened my mouth slightly. Was I seriously in trouble for leaving early?

“Did
you leave then?”

“Yes,
but—”

Mom
interrupted me. “Right after he vanished or later? And how much later?”

I
looked at my mother suspiciously. What were these questions about? “It was
later,” I said slowly. “Maybe ten minutes later.”

“So
you weren’t there for the second vanishing?”

“What?”

“You
don’t know?” Mom swallowed. “Alright Lily, this is going to be difficult. I
have some bad news.” She started speaking faster. “I’ll just go ahead and say
it: Ella vanished this afternoon, also. It—”

“What?”
I asked, this time confused about why my mother thought I didn’t already know
this. Did no one know I had been at Ella’s? Shouldn’t one of the trenchies or a
Happiologist have been responsible for monitoring her castle?

A
tear rolled down Mom’s cheek. “I know it’s a shock, Lily.” She pulled me into a
hug. “You two were close, huh?” Mom rubbed my back to comfort me. “HEA and the
Agency are doing everything they can to get them back. Don’t worry.”

~~~

It
was all very well for my mother to tell me not to worry. She had no idea that
particular motherly phrase wouldn’t work this time. She had no idea that I was
deeply involved in this story. She had no idea that I was the cause of the
vanishings. My interference led to Ella burning Aven’s maps, which, no doubt,
led to his vanishing. And, I was witness to the fact that his vanishing led to
Ella’s vanishing. I was a vanishing catalyst.

So
for all my mother’s motherly words, I
was
worried. I left a negative off
an answer (and had to run back upstairs to replace it.) I went to bed without
brushing my teeth (and then got back up to go brush them.) And no amount of
counting squares put me to sleep (so I switched to fluffy illogical sheep at
312 squared). I was very worried.

My
father didn’t come home; Mom said he was in rescue meetings. She wanted me to
go with her to the candlelight vigil for Aven and Ella, but I told her I didn’t
feel like it. How could I go and light a candle for the people I had vanished?
I was as bad as Levi. Tandem Tallis should be hiring me as a Dark Mesa; I was
such a lousy Happiologist.

I
turned over in bed. Ella’s words repeated in my head, “I let my selfishness
ruin my story. I let my husband vanish.” I was worse than that. I, a
Happiologist
,
let my selfishness ruin their story. I let my
friends
vanish–all so I
could prove they should be normal.

I
sat up and looked around for something to distract me. I grabbed the copy of
Beauty
and the Beast
I’d been reviewing from my work bag. Maybe a fairy tale could
distract me where math had failed. It worked; I fell asleep, dreaming about
Beauty selflessly (not selfish like me) giving herself to the Beast so her
father could be free.

~~~

Mom
was gone when I woke up, or maybe she never came home. That’s the thing about
vigils. How do you know when you can leave? It seems kind of rude to leave
before the person you’re vigil-ing for is found, but who can just stay there indefinitely?

I
went through the motions of getting ready for school, all the while thinking
about Ella and Aven. Why did I have to get involved? Why didn’t I suggest she
paint maps for him? Why had I ignored the warning signs? Why hadn’t I talked to
Aven at the tea? Why? Why? Why? It seemed my questions were infinite.

And
like infinity, the questions didn’t stop at school. I felt like I was split in
half. Half of me tried to be normal and pay attention. The other half was lost
in questions and worry. I hated it, and I have never hated fractions before.

“Lily,
dear?! We’re waiting!” Mrs. Fox interrupted my thoughts.

“For
what?” I asked, coming out of my stupor.

“Weren’t
you listening?!” She asked, rhetorically. “I asked you to read the first page
of this obscure fairy tale we’re studying today!”

I
looked down at the page. The title of the “obscure” tale was
Cinderella
.
Already one of the most well-known fairy tales was
obscure
. Somehow, I
pulled myself together and mumbled through the page, without paying attention
to what I read. My thoughts were on the obscurity of my friend Ella. I had made
her obscure.

I
hadn’t been checking my shoe updates regularly because there was nothing to
see. Ella had vanished, and Calo was steadily increasing ever since he started
his condescending problem solving. But during the passing period before
Algebra, I had to clean my shoe out. It was too full and becoming painful to
walk on. I slipped into the bathroom to empty my shoe/communication device.

I
pulled out the top sheet. Through the folds of the paper, I could see Doug had
written something below the regular print out. Curious, I unfolded it. He had
written
Come Quick!!
near the bottom and drawn a line to the top
where he had circled:

Calo
Miller                  Vanished

~~~

Newton’s
life was changed by the realization that things fall toward the ground,
Pythagoras’s life was changed by traveling to discover secrets of mathematics
from all over the world, and my own life was changed when I decided to skip Algebra
and go back to Smythe’s SFL.

Once
my mind was made up, I acted quickly. I threw the remaining updates away; I
wouldn’t need them since everyone on the list had already vanished. I gathered
my things, slipped out of the building without being noticed, and ran straight
home.
[50]

As I
ran I thought about two things.

1.
Why did Doug want me to “Come Quick”? What did he think I could do? I finally
calculated that he must suspect I know something since I was receiving the
updates on Calo.

2.
Why had Calo vanished? Yesterday, Calo was barely Less than Less than Happy.
Admittedly, not great, but pretty good for what Calo had been recently. What
had happened?

3. I
hoped Calo’s vanishing was not in any way related to my meddling.

I
ran in the door and was about to rush upstairs when I was stopped by all the
post-it notes. Mom had left a trail of messages for me. I went from “Awful
news” to “Calo Vanished” to “We’re staying” to “in the kingdom” to “Blaire will
fix” to “some supper for you” to “Keep going to school” to “I’ll come home when
I can” to “Love you Lily!” The trail ended in the kitchen. The “Love you Lily!”
post-it was on a bag of pretzels.

Mom’s
distraction was off the charts today. Did she really think I was just going to
stay home and
keep going to school
while all my friends and co-workers
vanished away to languish with Levi and the Dark Mesas? I headed up the stairs
to throw some clothes in a bag. I was staying in the kingdom, too. After all, I
was the princess of that place and where
else
should I be when my people
need me?

Suddenly,
I sighed. What was I planning? Rush into the HEA office and do what? Maybe I
should
just let Calo and his story be saved by Kara and the trenchies.

I
jumped. Another update arrived in my shoe. It poked uncomfortably. I dug it out
and saw Doug had written something on it as well. Great. Who else could be
vanished? I unfolded it and read,

Hurry!
Kara trapped in office. I have a plan.

How
in Fibonacci’s sequence did Kara get trapped? Wouldn’t her security force have
secured the perimeter or something? I started back up the stairs. Mathematical
or not, I was going to help Doug with his plan. The conclusion was simple:
these fictional people need me. The equation for their fictional, magical world
was unbalanced, and Doug needed my help to balance it, and if I, Lily Sparrow,
am anything, I am an equation balancer.

I
was nearly to the top of the stairs when I heard my mother’s voice. She was in
her study talking on the phone. But her post-its had indicated she would be in
the kingdom indefinitely. I went back downstairs and peeked in the study.

It
was
my mother’s voice, but it was
not
my mother. Blaire sat in my mother’s
special writing chair, talking on the phone, imitating my mother’s voice.

“No,
David,” she was saying, “I won’t have the proofs ready by then…… Yes…. well,
yes….. No, I’m going to have to cancel everything for this week and probably
next.” Blaire waved me into the room.

I
assumed that she was talking to my mother’s agent, David. I sat in one of the
other chairs and waited for Blaire to finish her conversation.

“I
know that, David, but it can’t be helped. I’ll call you again when I know
more…. Goodbye.” Blaire hung up the phone and said, in her
own
voice,
“Sorry about that, Princess. Your mother didn’t have time to make all of her
calls before she portaled over, so I finished up for her.”

“You
sounded just like her.”

Blaire
nodded. “Of course, dwarves are good at more than singing ‘Hi, Ho’ and mining
for jewels.”

I
had no idea what she was talking about, but I was beginning to get an idea of
my own. “Blaire,” I started slowly, “do you think you could call my school for
me? As my mother?”

“Sure,
what should I say?”

“Say
there’s a family emergency or whatever Mom’s excuse to David was.” I turned to
leave.

“Wait
a minute, Princess.” Blaire hopped out of the chair. “What are you planning to
do? Why aren’t you going to school?” She stopped. “Why aren’t you
at
school?”

“Three
people have vanished in two days. I have to do what I can to help.”

“But—”

I
cut off Blaire’s protests. “I
have
to. I am the future Protector.”  

She
looked at me and nodded. “Death of a close family friend it is.” She picked up
the phone and I went back upstairs, deciding that vanishing sort of equals
death.

I went
to the closet to get my Smythe’s SFL bag. My mind was already creating a list
of things to pack. As I pulled the bag off the shelf (in my distracted state),
a file folder crashed onto my head. It was Ella’s file. Her papers went
everywhere. I hurriedly gathered them up and went to shove the file back into
the bag. Then I noticed the bag was empty. There should have been another file
there: the Candlemaker’s Daughter. I had been keeping it hidden there, so my
mother wouldn’t find it, but it was gone. Did someone take it? Levi? Blaire? Or
could it have vanished? Everyone seemed to be vanishing lately. But for the
file
to have vanished, the last person from
The Candlemaker’s Daughter
would
have to vanish. And I still didn’t know who that was.