Author Note:
Forgot to tell you something in the last chapter. I update every Sunday, so expect chapter three next Sunday! Enjoy the story!
Chapter Two
It had probably been a dark and stormy night when Miss. Mildred Miller was born.
This is not to say that in any way, shape or form that Miss. Miller was dangerous or unpleasant to be around. On the contrary, the woman was a saint. Mildred was an intelligent and resourceful woman, who had gotten her degree in business and childrearing, and while her fellow classmates had been discussing high profit day cares and private schools, Mildred had gone after with a single minded determination to open up a chain of orphanages throughout five different states, one orphanage she ran herself. People all around these states, especially the posh and the authorities who were glad to see ruffians off their streets, praised her often for her good tasks.
However, if one looks closely at these posh and pampered people's faces as they drink wine in her honor, you'll notice a grin so tight it was almost panicky. And if Mildred was in the same room, receiving said toast, you can't help but notice a fine little smirk behind her crystal wine glass, and predatory eyes on her 'hosts'.
It took a lot of money to run successful orphanages, and when Mildred came to parties and posh gatherings, there was a clear dread in the air under the certain knowledge that whichever ritzy person she set her sights on would be a few thousand dollars poorer and a receipt thanking them for the charitable donation. Mildred had gotten A's in her business and debate classes.
Her charges of course didn't know this side of Mildred. All they knew of the woman was that she really liked mint chocolate, preferred baths to showers, and was the greatest thing that had ever happened to most of them. Unlike most students with their parents, kids rushed to be the first ones to tell Mildred about their day, and so it was late before Lewis finally got the chance to tell her how the science fair went.
"…And then, Mr. Willerstien said right then and there that I had won the competition! It was amazing Mildred!" Lewis beamed, on top of his chair after finishing reenacting the entire day. Minus Wilbur. The thought of the boy still made Lewis feel a little uneasy, with uncomfortable little feelings of guilt he was pretty sure he didn't deserve. Probably.
"Oh Lewis, that's wonderful!" Mildred praised, sweeping him up into a bear hug as Goob sleepily walked into the kitchen.
What's so wonderful?" Goob asked as he grabbed the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that Mildred had made for the kids of the house. Most of the orphans preferred to eat in the T.V. room or their rooms, but Goob occasionally liked to keep Mildred company in the kitchen for dinner. In a house full of kids, it was difficult to get some one on one time with the guardian.
"Oh, hey Michael," Mildred greeted as she put the grinning Lewis down, straightening her twisted apron, "Lewis won the science fair, isn't that exciting?"
Goob shrugged in his usual goobish fashion, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he tried to chew through the peanut butter. "Yeah, sure," he said, though with the peanut butter in his mouth it sounded more like, "y'suw."
Lewis didn't mind the lack of enthusiasm. His young roommate may not have always been jumping for joy that Lewis was a scientist, but his friend did support him, in his own small ways. Though he'd loudly complain of being kept up all night by noise and lights, he never actually asked for a room change, and though it usually sounded sarcastic, he did give occasional words of encouragement. He'd even help Lewis build his inventions if he was in the mood for talking, and the young boy was always in the mood for talking.
"How'd the baseball game go Goob?" Lewis asked as he grabbed his own sandwich, a baloney. He had lost some of his appetite for peanut butter and jelly after the 'Allergy Incident' with a possible couple wanting to adopt him. The way that man's face had just swelled up like a balloon….
Goob sighed in annoyance, "It never happened. The stupid Ref canceled the game because of the storm that's coming, but it was sunny all day. What a waste, I was totally in the zone today." As he said this Goob's eyes began to droop as his head began to nod before he jolted back awake, sighing.
Mildred looked out the window at the darkening sky, "Well, late or not, that storms definitely hitting us. It's going to be raining cats and dogs tonight! I'd sure hate to be out there when it does."
A mental image of Wilbur flashed in Lewis's mind before he was thankfully distracted by Goob's yawning. Glad for the distraction, Lewis grinned apologetically, "Sorry Goob, I know I've taken a couple of late nights, but I'll be taking a break from inventions for a bit. I've got to focus on that internship."
Goob shrugged as if none of it had really bothered him, though he was immensely relieved. Taking a sip from his cup of milk he complained, "Fine. I just don't understand why you never get tired. I once saw you only get an hour of sleep and you woke up like you were ready to run a race. It's not fair."
Lewis sipped through his own straw as he played this sentence around his head. It was true, the blond had never really needed a lot of sleep, and he just seemed to always have some extra energy stored away somewhere. That was pretty odd…maybe it was in his muscles, or the way his bloodstream flowed. Perhaps he should conduct a few insomnia experiments and…
Lewis remembered the promise he had only just made to Goob and sighed. His experiment would have to wait; his friend deserved a break for awhile…though he really, really wanted to look into the secrets of sleep now!
"Mildred, may I be excused?" Lewis asked as he finished off his sandwich, jumping from his seat when his caretaker smiled and nodded. Quickly he headed to his and Goob's room to grab his notebook, than headed up to the roof. The roof did have a nightlight, so he'd be able to see for awhile, but Mildred had a strict nine o' clock curfew when it came to the roof, and he knew she'd be up to check within the next hour, most likely at nine thirty. He had only that long to come up with the basic ideas of what he would do with sleep.
Thoughts and ideas flew around in his head as he worked through possible studies and their everyday usefulness, and as he got out onto the roof, breath momentarily taken away by the chill, he huddled up next to his wooden box and, getting as much light from the light bulb as he could, began to write.
He decided that before he could figure out what would be most usefully done to improve the sleeping condition, he had to discover what made sleep tick. Why could he last just fine with only a minimum amount of it, but Goob was practically disabled with the same amount of sleep? Could he invent a machine that would help Goob survive without sleep, or a machine that could help Goob sleep with the racket Lewis made? Was it the noise that kept Goob up, or the light, or just the psychology of knowing someone in the room was awake, a survival instinct? Would Goob be willing to go through testing?
Thoughts and theories swam though Lewis's head, his pencil working furiously. Over a half hour went by without Lewis's notice, people in the house having gone to bed by now at the late hour of nine, and Lewis was just considering calling it quits for the night when a hand suddenly came out of the darkness, and pointed to a word on his page, "Did you know that you always confuse 'than' and 'then'?"
"Augh!" Lewis cried out as he reeled back, dropping his notebook as his heart pounded. It calmed down when, out of the darkness, walked Wilbur, who carefully picked up the notebook, eyeing it with interest before handing it back to Lewis with a grin. Lewis angrily snatched it back, getting up onto his feet. "What did you think you were doing!? You scared the daylights out of me! What are you doing here?!"
Wilbur rolled his eyes, "I'm here to protect you, remember? Bowler hat guy, stalking you, ring any bells?"
Lewis backed away from the boy, frightened. This kid was stalking him, and he had somehow managed to sneak up onto the roof at night, and the older kids' body was directly between him and the door inside. "I don't want to be protected. I can handle myself, so…so just go back to wherever it is you come from!"
Wilbur laughed, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, "Well, that'll be a bit tough, considering I'm thirty years from home. I mean, yeah, sure, if I wait around long enough I'll eventually get there, but what fun would that be?"
Lewis hesitated at this, struggling between annoyance, fear and concern. This would all be so much easier if the guy was foaming at the mouth or something. It was weird hearing someone say stuff like that and appear perfectly normal. "What? I thought you said you lived around here?"
Wilbur laughed, "Geez, and here I thought you were a super genius. I just told the adults that to keep my cover. I'm from the future, Lewis, why would I have a house thirty years in the past? Honestly, get with the program." Wilbur encouraged as he looked around, clapping his hands to keep them from freezing in the cold, which was getting heavier.
Lewis struggled with this, raising his hands to his temples before letting them fall away in exasperation. What was he supposed to do about this? What could he do about this? Some crazy, apparently homeless kid was stalking him because he thought some guy in a bowler hat was after him. Who even wore bowler hats anymore? Lewis was twelve years old, and he didn't know how to handle this, super genius or not!
"Maybe I should go get Mildred." Lewis whispered to himself, not meaning to be overheard but was overheard nonetheless by a suddenly alert Wilbur.
"Whose Mildred?" Wilbur asked warily, becoming more and more nervous as Lewis turned away and began to walk towards the door. "Lewis?"
"Mildred is the owner of the orphanage Wilbur, and she's going to help us sort this whole thing out, so just wait h-" Lewis was cut off as the surprisingly quick Wilbur was suddenly in front of his, shoving the door shut.
"Wait, wait, wait, you can't tell anybody about this, about me!" Wilbur shouted, firmly blocking off the door as Lewis tried to get around him, "Your times' police will capture me, and when they hear I'm from the future, they'll lock me away, and when this eventually gets to my dad in a couple of decades I'll be in sooo much trouble! I'm not even supposed to look at the time machines, let alone get one of them stolen and the other one lost!"
Lewis blinked. It was the first time in his life that he had ever had to remind himself to do that. "You lost your time machine? How do you lose a time machine!?"
Wilbur grinned sheepishly, "Well, I just hope it's lost anyway. It's invisible, so when I couldn't find it this afternoon I was hoping I had misplaced it, but there's a chance that one got stolen too." Wilbur frowned miserably at the idea as Lewis tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"And if that's how the second one got stolen, how did the first one get stolen?" Lewis asked, feeling ridiculous for even having this conversation, let alone being interested in the answer.
Wilbur grinned. There was something off about it as he pointed his index finger at Lewis, "That…is an excellent question. Hey, can I spend the night?"
Lewis blinked, thrown by the sudden change in conversation, "Huh?"
Wilbur threw a hand good naturedly across Lewis's shoulders, pointing up into the sky, "Ya know, that thing that happens when the sun goes away and the moon comes out? Night? Can I stay during it? I won't be any trouble."
Lewis scoffed unbelievingly at this, shrugging Wilbur's hands off, "No, I'm not letting you into my house. I don't want you anywhere near me!" Lewis turned away from the boy, struggling with his nerves. It had suddenly occurred to him that it might not be a great idea to make an insane person mad. There was no telling how they'll react, though, so far Wilbur just seemed annoyed.
Wilbur gapped before throwing up his hands, "Aw, come on! You're not going to leave me to sleep out in the streets tonight are you? This is the 21st century; anything could happen to me out there!"
"I don't care." Lewis lied, crossing his arms in a huff, while inside he cringed. It wasn't like the city had a high crime rate or anything…but things did happen, especially to kids out by themselves all night (at least, that's what Mildred said the last time she caught a kid sneaking out at night).
Then an idea prickled in the boy geniuses mind.
He bit his lip. It was a mean plan.
Wilbur huffed, scowling as he rolled his eyes at the sky, wondering why on earth the Gods had burdened him with such a difficult charge. "Geez, you are such a jerk! So I guess you'd be thrilled if they found my body in the morning, frozen to death, my stomach empty, stabbed in the back by some desperate hobo, stuffed in a gar-!"
"Okay, okay!" Lewis shushed, eyeing the windows nervously to see if anyone had heard that fuss. "Look just…the storm still hasn't broken, and there's still a chance it'll rain tonight, so I'll let you in just for a little while, okay? But be quiet, everyone headed to bed twenty minutes ago, and Mildred wouldn't like me bringing a friend in this late unannounced."
'Not that she's not going to find out by the end of the night anyway.' Lewis thought to himself with a touch of nerves. He would just have to deal with that when it came. At least this would all be over really, really soon. Plus, it would work out for everybody! Wilbur would have a place to spend the night and would probably be returned to his parents and, most importantly, wouldn't be Lewis's problem anymore!
Lewis's room, shared with the young athlete Goob, was almost as odd as its occupants. Not that there was anything unusual in it, many childhood rooms were filled with sports figures and balls and posters (though admittedly a less number of children rooms could be found with binders full of Quantum Physics notes, based on Einstein's original transcripts.). The strangeness off this room was its perpetual state of being somewhat clean, or if you were a pessimist, somewhat messy. While underwear could be folded and organized by color in the drawers, socks could also be found hidden somewhere under the desk, right next to a piece of bread that had turned so many colors that had Lewis not been afraid of infection he would have loved to check to see if any sort of sentient life had yet grown on it. This was because, while Lewis had a tendency to be absent minded and rather messy, Goob could be tidy and organized to the point of mild OCD.
The boy was a freak for neat and was oddly efficient in keeping himself that way, often coming home from a rough and rowdy game of baseball without so much as a speck of dirt or a grass stain on his uniform. This didn't mean he avoided the dirt; he was enthralled into just as much mayhem as all of his other teammates. He just tended to get out of it looking like an after commercial for soup detergent.
Lewis, on the other hand…well, let's just say that the idea of Lewis one day growing up and getting a place on his own kept Mildred up at night. This was often by the mental image of coming to visit one day and finding out he had suffocated under a trash avalanche, things that had been left under the desk too long crawling around the terrain.
This was in fact what Mildred was dreaming about as soon as Lewis had let Wilbur into his room.
"Shh," Lewis whispered, wordlessly pointing to Goob, who had thankfully managed to fall asleep before Lewis had got there. Wilbur nodded mutely, grinning with a sort of giggling excitement as he looked around the room. Lewis motioned for Wilbur to follow and together they snuck into his and Goob's closet, quietly shutting the door behind him.
They had to squeeze because it was a small closet, but they were envied by many of the other female orphans because it was one of the few walk in closets of the house. Mildred had only let him and Goob have it because the guardian would rather have most of Lewis's more 'inventive' projects locked behind two sets of doors, just in case.
"Okay, you're going to stay in here, alright?" Lewis ordered, trying to shuffle past Wilbur, "Don't make any noise. I'll see you in the morning."
Wilbur frowned, looking around at the small space. It wouldn't be uncomfortable, per se, but…. "Can't I at least have a blanket and pillow or something?"
Lewis looked guilty for a moment before shuffling, coming back with a pillow and blanket. It was his pillow and blanket, and his bed would be cold and uncomfortable without it, but Wilbur wasn't going to have it for long.
For some reason, Lewis was feeling more and more uncomfortable with that. Wilbur was a pain, but at the same time he really wished he didn't have to be around when Wilbur would realize what he had done.
"Now, stay. Here." Lewis ordered again, once more heading out the door as quietly as possible. Just as he was grasping the handle, Lewis felt a tap on the shoulder. He looked back to see Wilbur smiling shyly, holding his pillow and blanket. Once again Lewis had the mental image of someone far younger then himself, and had to blink a couple of times and remember that Wilbur was clearly older than him, and about three inches taller. It would do him no good to think of Wilbur as some helpless little kid, because he wasn't. He was a jerk and insane and…
"Hey, I just wanted to say thanks." Wilbur said, grinning shyly again, "Ya know, for letting me stay the night. It's important that I do, but I know you don't think so, so you didn't need to let me in so…thanks."
…and sweet and nice during the absolute worst times.
Lewis nodded mutely and hurried out, letting out a tense breath of air. Why'd he have to go and say that? There had been no call for that! What a jerk, thanking him like that!
Such mutterings and guilty looks over his shoulder continued as Lewis sulked down to the kitchen, walking silently by Mildred's door as he heard Mildred whimper slightly in her sleep, dreaming about whatever the dark woman dreamt about. Knowing it would be noticed, Lewis left the light off as he entered the kitchen, using the light glow of a street lamp outside, beaming in threw the windows, to navigate the familiar path.
Illuminated perfectly by the glow was the phone. It was an old phone, one of the first types of wireless to ever be sold. Lewis had never thought it looked menacing before.
He made a call.
1
Down the street lived a girl, with hair and eyes as black as night, and skin as white as snow. Thankfully, however, her parents when they realized how much their daughter resembled a certain fairytale princess at birth, and had so decided to give her the sensible name Franny. Franny was everything you hoped for in a daughter; kind, courteous, and studious in everything she did. When she decided she was going to do something, an example being karate, she stuck to it like white on rice, and was often the best in her class. She also didn't talk back and didn't say no, and her colorful antics often brought smiles to her parent's faces.
However, her parents would also look to each other with these tight little smiles sometimes, before kindly reminding their ambitious daughter that, no, the frogs couldn't eat at the table, and please keep in mind, dear, what happened the last time the neighbors saw you singing to them for three hours straight.
Franny was currently working on her star pupil, Frankie, who out of all the frogs was the only one who, as far as she could tell, was making an effort to mimic her. His croaks came out in rhythm to the music, and he often seemed to look straight at her when she sang, while the other frogs often tended to let their eyes and legs wander. Franny held the little frog in her hand and was softly singing one line to him, over and over again.
"Jeepers creepers, where'd you get them peepers? Jeepers, creepers, where'd you get them eyes?" She repeated the same line again and again, and below her Frankie dutifully croaked with her, one croak for every word.
If you listened really, really closely, the way Franny was, you could almost mistake one of the croaks for being a very muddled 'Jeepers'.
Franny didn't think of herself as the person closest in the entire world to actually teach an animal to talk, because she didn't know she had. Also, she didn't think of herself as someone teaching an animal to talk. She was teaching an animal to sing, and talking just happened to be one of those vital things involved in most singing. The reason Franny was succeding where so many scientists had failed was her undying stubbornness, which had shown from her third year, especially regarding frogs. When little Franny had been taught to sing by her mother, she had merely assumed that her pet frogs could do the same thing if someone sat down and showed them how, and every day for the past nine years she had still been convinced of this and practiced with them, every morning and every night.
Her parents had long ago just accepted it, on the basis that Franny held most of her practice sessions in her room, and that it didn't interfere with friends or school.
"Jeepers, creepers, where'd you get those peepers? Jeepers, creepers, where's you get them eyes…" Franny took a breath before placing Frankie down into the frog pen, the frog still looking up at her expectantly. Grabbing a little box from her dresser, she opened it up the tiniest bit so a single fly could get out, and Frankie grabbed it out of the air. The other frogs looked on jealously, but they all knew it was Frankies treat, so none of them attempted to steal it.
Franny stood up and stretched, her small body practically lifting itself into the air with the effort. She walked to her window and looked outside. She supposed she could blame it on the events of the day that her eyes drifted over to the orphanage down the street, but honestly they usually did this time of night. Franny had never met anyone before from the orphanage, but often thought of it, with confused feelings of pity, disgust and envy. She knew her parents didn't like living across from an orphanage, whispered that it was dangerous and lowered their property value, and you never knew what kind of kid could just walk down the street, and if Franny hadn't been expressly forbidden to talk to the kids from there, she knew her parents would disapprove.
The envy was at their appealing total freedom, and how there were always so many of them. Franny had two brothers, both whom she loved and used to play with endlessly, but they were both in highschool now and had no time to play with their little sister. Franny, feeling more and more lonely these days, often had to resist walking over to the orphanage, all casual-like, and see if anyone there would like to play. They always looked like they were having so much fun, when she saw them. However, orphans were dangerous, because they usually came from bad home lives, and "the apple doesn't fall far…" She actually wasn't entirely sure what that phrase meant, but she heard her parents whisper it all the time, and knew by their tone it wasn't good.
But Franny had heard that the blond kid, Lewis, the one who had won the science fair, was from the orphanage. She had noticed him at the beginning of the science fair, and her eyes had kept drifting back to him, mostly out of curiosity for his strange fashion sense. She hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him during all the excitement, but he had seemed…nice. And that didn't fit into the carefully placed image of kids from the orphanage that her parents had instilled in her.
She was a sixth grader and she knew he was a seventh grader, and wondered if they would ever see each other again, even though they didn't have any classes together. She wondered why she cared so much, and peered through the dark at the orphanage some more. She peered through her blinds to the dark windows of the large orphanage building. Which room was his?
And then, off in the distance, she heard sirens, and watched two cop cars role into the street, with their red and blue light spinning, the siren turning off as they parked in front of the orphanage.
She watched, wide-eyed, as two of the cops from one of the cars walked out, went up to the building and knocked on the door. The door quickly opened, as if someone had been waiting beside it, and Franny saw a flash of blond under the light as the person let them in.
And then, a moment later, she heard shouting and watched a dark figure jump from out of the second story window and take off running.
Somewhere else, not too far away…
The man had gone home, and gone into that room, and looked under his bed. He thought that the man didn't know about the hole in the mattress, didn't know about the pages carefully tapped back into the binder. The man had known. He had known because she had known.
She knew everything.
Sitting carefully on the bed, he opened the book with two fingers, carefully placing it down as, putting his index finger to his tongue every time, he turned a page.
One a page….two a page….three a page….there.
A name. An address.
The boy could not hide.
Very carefully, the man put the little battered book back, being sure to leave everything just as he found it. The boy would come back, he knew he could not be without the book for long. It would itch at the back of his mind, nagging at him, until he would finally risk sneaking in at the night, to quietly take it away, believing the man knew nothing.
The man made it his business to know. Life had taught him that knowledge was power.
And she had taught him that secrets were how you kept power.
It was not a full moon, that night.
But it would be soon.
0
R&R!