“Terry’s not feeling well,” Jelly said.

“I brought him some homework,” Amanda said. It was a white lie, because in fact she and Finn went to a different school than Maybeck; but she needed a reason to see him.

“That’s sweet of you, girl. I’ll be sure to pass it along.”

Amanda said, “Is it the flu?”

“Not exactly the flu,” Jelly answered. “You want to leave him homework, that’d be fine. But right now, I’ve got a lot do.”

“Can I help you?” Amanda offered. “Can I fill in for Terry, if he’s not feeling well?”

“Well…Terry’s asleep upstairs. That would be very good of you, Amanda. Thank you for offering. I’m happy to pay you, though I can’t pay much.”

Finn climbed up the fire escape. The rail was hot to the touch. If caught, Finn wasn’t sure what excuse he’d use, but he’d think of something. At the first landing there was a normal-looking door.

Finn knocked gently. Nothing. Then he tried the doorknob; it turned, but he didn’t dare open it. That was just plain wrong, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Then the obvious hit him: that other landing below the adjacent windows. If he could make the jump…

Finn climbed over the rail of the landing, hung on, and jumped. His fingers hooked around the railing. He hung on for dear life, pulled himself over, and collapsed below the first window.

He got to his feet and peered in. He saw a television room with some very nice pottery scattered around. The next window, considerably smaller, was covered on the inside by a thick curtain—a bathroom, perhaps.

Finn moved to the third window and peered inside.

Maybeck.

He was asleep in bed— with the shade up and the lights on, Finn noted—rolled over, with his back to Finn. He had on the same shirt he’d been wearing the night before. Next to the bed, on a side table, Finn noticed a thermometer bulb-down in a glass of water, a face cloth folded into a strip three inches wide, and a copy of the Bible.

Finn knocked gently on the glass. Maybeck didn’t stir. Finn tried again, a little louder.

Maybeck didn’t budge. If Finn knocked any harder, he thought he’d break the glass. Instead, he tested the window. It opened a crack. Again, he faced going inside uninvited. Again, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

But he did slide the window up and stick his head through.

“Maybeck!” he whispered harshly. “Maybeck, wake up!

“Finn!” It was Amanda’s voice, behind and below him. Finn bumped his head on the window frame as he turned to look for her.

“Jelly’s coming up there!” Amanda warned frantically. “She heard you!”

Finn ducked out the bedroom window. He could hear Jelly coming up the stairs. The footsteps were close now. Finn slid Maybeck’s window shut, ducked, and hurried to the railing. He climbed over, paused, and jumped.

For a fraction of a second, it seemed that he’d misjudged the distance, that he would fall, crashing in a pile of broken bones right in front of Amanda. But he made it. He climbed over the railing and hurried down to ground level.

“Finn? Finn Whitman?” Jelly hollered from the upstairs balcony. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Jelly!” Finn called back.

“You sneaking around back here?”

“No, ma’am.”

“’Cause that’s what it looks like.”

“I need to talk to Terry,” Finn confessed. “It’s important.”

“You can’t. Terry’s sick. Not well.”

“Sick, or asleep? He won’t wake up, will he?”

Amanda snapped her head in Finn’s direction.

Jelly said, “You stay right where you are, young man.”

Jelly took her time. “Listen,” she said, emerging through the back door. “This is not something I want going around school. You understand?” She met eyes with them both. “Terry’s got some kind of sleeping sickness.”

Finn gasped.

“We can’t wake him up. He’s not got a fever. Not been bitten by anything. No sweats or shakes.” She took a long look up at Maybeck’s bedroom window. “Doctor says to let him be one more night. Tomorrow, he goes to the hospital and they start doing tests. But I’m saying my prayers. Nothing seems wrong with him. Doctor says he’s fine in all the important ways.”

“He’s stuck asleep?” Amanda said.

“That’s a funny way to put it,” Jelly said, “but yes.”

Finn wanted to kick Amanda, but she didn’t know what she’d said. He had told her nothing about the night before.

Maybeck was still crossed over. Finn struggled to figure out what that meant.

“Can’t wake him up?” Finn blurted out.

“That’s right,” Jelly said.

Finn considered carefully before he spoke. “Listen…I don’t expect you to believe me or anything, but Terry’s condition—it has to do with his being a DHI, a Disney Host, like I am.” She studied him thoughtfully but did not interrupt. “I think I can help him. Maybe. Help him wake up.”

“Is this some kind of joke? Because it’s in poor taste, young man. Terry’s extremely ill.”

“Finn?” Amanda said. “What’s going on?”

“Before he went to bed last night—maybe even yesterday afternoon—did Maybeck…did Terry…get a phone call ?”

Jelly took another step away from him. “What’s with you, boy?” She was not pleased. She looked on the verge of tears.

“He did, didn’t he? And I’ll bet he came away from that call excited, didn’t he? Because it was from a girl, wasn’t it?”

“Her?” Jelly said, pointing at Amanda, not realizing she’d just confirmed that Finn was right.

“No,” Finn said softly, “not her.” Thoughts crowded his head. “Please don’t take him to the hospital until you hear from me tomorrow.”

“I’m supposed to trust my Terry to a thirteen-year-old boy?” Jelly said, incredulous.

“Fourteen,” Finn said. “I’m fourteen next month.”

22

Back riding their bikes, Finn and Amanda pedaled side by side on the sidewalk, slipping into single file whenever they passed a pedestrian. The afternoon slid toward evening, the sun dragging lower in the sky, the first haze of twilight upon them. Finn felt his whole world dimming.

“He’s not asleep, is he, Finn?” she asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what?”

“Trapped over there,” Finn said.

“What’s that mean?”

“It means we left him, and we shouldn’t have, and now he’s stuck back there. On this side, he’s asleep. Over there, he’s still a DHI. Who knows what’s happened to him.”

“You think he’s been caught or something?”

“I hope not,” Finn answered. “But this is nothing but bad. Real bad.” Finn felt a cool wind on his back. He craned over his shoulder to look.

Though Finn said nothing, Amanda, riding alongside him said, “I feel it, too. Check out your handlebars.”

Finn touched his handlebars: ice cold. His fingers left small patches of vapor behind as he removed them.

“Just like the car wash,” she said.

Finn didn’t need to be told what that sudden chill meant.

He scoured the immediate area for any sign of Maleficent.

He saw only cars, storefronts, and power lines.

Black cars, red cars, blue cars, and white.

Small cars, big cars, dull cars, and bright.

Where did they come from? Where were they going?

Some cars were driving; some cars were towing.

“Do you ever think in rhymes?” he asked her, wondering where that had come from.

She glanced over at him, gravely concerned.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re thinking in rhymes?”

“So what?”

She answered, “It’s one of the signs—it’s something….” She caught herself. Her voice trailed off.

“What signs?”

She allowed her bike to fall behind him so far that he couldn’t see her. So Finn slowed as well, and they dueled this way: Amanda slowing, then Finn slowing to join her, until they had come to a stop.