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The passion of Vari’s playing seemed to fade. “Hershey’s a toad.”
“You should learn to like him,” Mary said.
“He’s got a dirty face, and I don’t like his eyes.”
“He’s half-Japanese. You mustn’t be prejudiced just because he has an Asian look about his eyes.”
Vari said nothing to that. He played a few more brooding stanzas of music, then said, “Why do you always want him around? He can’t really do anything. Not like some other kids. Not like me.”
Mary had to admit that it was true—Nick was not a standout spirit. But then, why did it matter what he could do? Why couldn’t he just be?
She stood, and went to one of the western windows. It was a clear afternoon, and she could see across the Hudson River to New Jersey, but a faint haze hid the horizon from her.
The world had become so small for the living. Airplanes took people across the country in a matter of hours. You could talk with people around the world just by pressing buttons on a telephone, and now those phones weren’t even connected to wires. Everlost wasn’t like that. It was still an unexplored wilderness of wild children, and gaping unknowns. Mary knew very little of children beyond her sphere of influence. Even after all her years here, her explorations were limited, because safety and security required digging in, and traveling as little as possible. Moving from the Everlost apartment building she had occupied for so many years to the towers had expanded her realm, and drawn many more children to her than she had sheltered before —yet even still, the only information she got from the world beyond her towers came from Finders passing through. Mostly they spoke of rumors. Sometimes she liked what she heard, and sometimes she didn’t.
Then a thought occurred to her; a marvelous thought that would give Nick a purpose and a reason to be something more than just one among many in her world.
“Finders have told me they’re reading my books as far west as Chicago now,” Mary told Vari. “Which means there must be children in other cities in need of care and guidance, don’t you think?”
Vari stopped playing. “You’re thinking of leaving here?”
Mary shook her head. “No. But that doesn’t mean I can’t send someone out there.
Someone I can train, and teach everything I know. That person can set up an outpost in an unexplored city. Chicago, perhaps.”
“Who would you send?”
“I was thinking about Nick. Of course it will take years to train him properly—ten, maybe twenty—but there’s no great hurry.”
Vari came up beside her, looked toward the hazy horizon, then turned to her.
“I can do it,” he said. “And it won’t take years to train me, either.”
She turned to him and smiled. “That’s sweet of you to offer.”
“But I can do it,” he insisted. “I might be little, but the kids respect me, don’t they? Even the older ones.”
Again she smiled warmly. “Vari, what would this place be without you and your violin? I’d always want you here, playing for us.”
“‘Us,’” Vari echoed. “I see.”
She kissed him on top of the head. “Now, why don’t you play something else.
Something cheerful.”
Vari began to play an upbeat tune, but somehow there seemed to be an edge to the music that was dark and undefinable.
There was no question in Allie’s mind that she was getting out. She had no desire to spend eternity caught in an endless loop, no matter how pleasant it might be. But she was also smart enough to know not to leave until she got what she had come for in the first place.
Information.
Not “Miss Mary” information, but the real deal.
“I want to know about all the things Mary won’t talk about!”
Allie said it loudly and fearlessly on what was commonly called the “teen floor,” since that’s where the older kids in Mary’s domain liked to congregate.
No one seemed to react, but a kid playing Ping-Pong lost his concentration, and sent the ball flying across the room.
