The witchs apprentice, p.16
The Witch's Apprentice, page 16
“I don’t know how long this job will take,” I tell them, “but Dutch has a theory about time. We can ask her to explain it on the way to Chicago.”
As we leave the circle of light cast by the lamppost and head into the darkness of the tunnel, I turn to take one last look at my beloved Brooklyn. I’m not sure if we’ll be back in a day or a week. I don’t know if we’ll be able to find my grandfather or convince Sis to reunite the two realms. But I know that whenever I do get back to Brooklyn, I probably won’t be the same kid I am now.
“Look—a staircase!” Kavi cries from within the tunnel.
I hurry to catch up with my friends, and together we slip underground to embark on a new adventure in the realm of magic.
15
Before following my friends down the spiral staircase, I send Mama a quick text.
Hi, Mama.
Going on a mission with Trub.
Ma will explain.
Be back soon.
I u.
It’s not entirely true, but I figure it’s all Mama needs to know right now.
Dutch is waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. “Ready to go?” she asks before pulling the tree root that seals us underground.
I nod and introduce my friends to our conductor. Then I lead them over to the UR and show them how to board.
“This is so cool,” Kavi says as she steps through the UR’s soft, clear shell.
“Are we allowed to eat in here?” Kenny asks once we’re seated around the table.
“Buckle up first,” Dutch says. She puts the UR in reverse and then swivels her seat so that she’s facing us. Within seconds, the UR is rocketing back along the same route it took from Chicago.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper meal, so I’m happy when Kenny opens his knapsack and pulls out some sandwiches. Vik takes a couple of juice boxes out of his bag and sets them on the table. The only thing I have to share is gum. I open a packet and hand a green gumball to Kavi after she begs to feed the phoenix.
“What’s its name?” she asks as the tiny bird flutters from my shoulder to the table. It cautiously sniffs Kavi’s palm before digging its beak into the green orb.
“I don’t know,” I reply. As Kenny puts more food on the table, I tell my friends about Itzel and how the phoenix seemed to understand K’iche’. “Everyone says this bird is ancient, even though it was just born a couple of days ago. Maybe in a few more days I’ll be able to communicate with it the way you can with Jef.”
Kenny nods and says, “It’s possible.” Then he sets his bag aside and asks, “Who’s hungry? I figured we might need fuel for our mission, so I packed a few things.”
I reach for half of a sloppily made sandwich, too hungry to care about how it looks. Vik takes the other half, and Kavi opens a bag of chocolate chip cookies. Kenny just watches us eat for a moment before offering a warning.
“I hope that sandwich tastes okay. You know my mom’s always trying to get me to eat healthy stuff.” He picks up half of the second sandwich and offers the rest to Dutch, who eyes it suspiciously before declining. Kenny takes a gigantic bite and while his mouth is still full says, “This may look like chicken salad, but it’s not. And those cookies are sugar-free.”
I swallow my first bite. “Tastes like chicken to me,” I tell him.
Vik seems to agree, and despite her craving for sweets, Kavi looks satisfied with her snack. I know we’ll be in Chicago before long, so I decide to ask Dutch a question.
“Hey, Dutch. Mrs. B. said you have a weird theory about time.”
Dutch laughs and tilts her chair back. A footrest pops up, and she reclines before answering my question. “I can’t really take credit for it,” she says. “I heard this griot give a talk a while back, and I’ve thought about her ideas ever since. Have you ever seen the sankofa bird? It’s an adinkra symbol from the Akan.”
None of us knows about the bird, so Dutch describes it. “It’s moving forward but looking back over its shoulder. What if we humans did that, too—moved forward while keeping an eye on the past? It’s possible if you give up the idea of monochronic time. That’s where one event happens after another.”
“But…isn’t that how time actually works?” Kenny asks while munching on a cookie.
I have a different question. “What’s the alternative?”
Dutch gets excited and tilts her chair up again. She leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees. “Some cultures are polychronic—they believe multiple things can happen at the same time. So you don’t have to wait for one thing to end before another begins.”
Kavi frowns and loudly sucks the last bit of juice out of her box. “Everything happens all at once? That sounds messy.”
Dutch laughs. “Some people like everything to happen according to a schedule. But some of us…” She shrugs and winks at me. “Some of us like to color outside the lines. All right, y’all. You better finish up your little feast—we’re almost there.”
We tidy up the table and store the leftovers in our bags. The phoenix looks sleepy, so I tuck it inside my pocket.
Dutch brings the UR to a smooth stop and looks at her phone. “Vonn texted to say he’ll meet you all upstairs at eight.”
“We better not keep him waiting,” I tell my friends before turning to Dutch. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Maybe I better go upstairs with you,” Dutch says, reaching to undo her seat belt.
“That’s okay,” I assure her. “We’ll be fine on our own.”
“You sure?”
Kavi nods and shakes hands with Dutch before exiting the UR. Vik and Kenny follow her out but turn to wait for me at the bottom of a steep flight of stone steps.
“I’m sure, Dutch. I really appreciate you taking me all the way to Brooklyn and back. Plus, it’s getting late—I don’t want you to miss the gala.”
Dutch grins and holds out her hand for me to shake, too. “Okay, Junior. Good luck in Palmara. We’ll be rooting for you.”
I wonder who Dutch means by “we,” but I don’t stop to think about whether or not Ma wants me to succeed. Instead, I push through the wall of the UR and join my friends.
“Looks like the only way is up,” Kenny says, sweeping his flashlight over the stairs. He takes a deep breath and starts to float up the staircase.
Kavi tries to beat Kenny and reaches the top just a moment before he does. Vik and I are halfway up the stairs when we hear Kavi breathlessly announce, “The door’s stuck!”
Kenny lands and tries to help Kavi. When we get to the top of the staircase, Vik and I also grab hold of the large metal ring attached to the stone door. All four of us pull as hard as we can, and slowly the door begins to budge.
“I guess this stop hasn’t been used in a while,” I tell my friends. Dutch did say that Millennium Park was built not that long ago and that’s why it didn’t have an UR stop. She dropped us at the Art Institute instead, which is supposed to be close by.
It takes a lot of effort to move the heavy stone slab, but when it finally opens, violet light seeps into the tunnel. I squeeze through the narrow opening and look up at the starry purple sky. “I think we’re between realms,” I tell my friends.
Aside from the sky, everything looks normal. The stone door has opened into a small park next to the art museum. I look around for Vonn, but he’s nowhere to be found. To my left is a stone boy holding a big blue fish. I suspect water would normally be flowing from the fish’s open mouth, but the shallow fountain is empty. Above me I hear hushed voices and look up to find five bluish-brown women whispering and pointing at me.
“It’s a boy!” one cries with delight.
I wave and say, “Uh…hello. I’m Jax. Have you seen my friend Vonn?”
The women set down the giant clamshells they were holding and pull their long, loose robes around them so they can climb down to my level. I reach out my hand to help one of the women. She thanks me and says, “You’re the first to visit us in a very long time.”
“Is it okay to come out?” Vik asks, poking his head around the stone door.
Before I can answer, Kavi pushes past her brother and jumps down into the dry fountain. Her mouth falls open when she sees the blue women. “Are you goddesses?” Kavi asks, awestruck.
The women giggle. One gently cups Kavi’s face and says, “No, dear. We’re water nymphs. I’m Michigan, and these are my sisters, Huron, Erie, Ontario, and Superior.”
“The Great Lakes!” Vik cries.
His voice echoes through the empty park. I scan the lanes and benches once more, worried Vonn’s camouflage outfit might make him hard to spot.
“I guess your friend stood us up,” Kenny says.
I frown and turn to the nymphs. “Maybe you could help us. We’re trying to get to Millennium Park, and we don’t have much time.”
“It isn’t far,” the tallest woman tells me. She takes my hand in hers, and three other nymphs offer their hands to Kenny, Kavi, and Vik. The fifth woman walks ahead. We hear her whistle loudly, and by the time we reach the street, two giant green lions are waiting for us.
“Don’t be afraid,” the tall nymph says with a smile as the big cats swagger toward us. She affectionately strokes the manes of both creatures before giving them instructions. “Take these children directly to Cloud Gate.” They nod at her, and we wave goodbye to the nymphs before heading up Michigan Avenue with our impressive feline escorts.
“We’re a pride now,” Kavi says with a grin. Kenny laughs and lifts off the ground every few steps to practice his flying skills.
“Wasn’t your friend supposed to meet us?” Vik asks anxiously.
“Something must have come up,” I tell him, trying not to look as worried as I feel.
We pass the Art Institute and see the empty plinths where the bronze lions usually stand guard. The streets are eerily empty, and I almost wish the kind nymphs were still there to hold our hands. What if I made a mistake trusting Blue? What if Vik was right and I’ve led my friends into some sort of trap?
We cross the street and pass a strange installation in the park on our right. Two towers made of glass blocks face each other at the end of a paved space about the size of a basketball court. Both have long rectangular screens that crackle with static. Suddenly, the glass blocks are filled with golden light, and we hear a familiar voice. The static vanishes, and I jump in surprise as Blue’s giant face appears on one tower and Vonn’s on the other. Though they’re facing each other, it’s clear that they’re both speaking to me.
“Sorry I couldn’t make it, Brooklyn. Something came up.”
“That happens a lot with you,” I say without bothering to conceal my wariness.
“It’s my fault,” Blue admits. “I needed Vonn’s assistance with another matter. But have no fear, kids,” he says with a smile. “All the necessary preparations have been made. The gate is open—all you have to do is cross over to the other side.”
“Into Palmara?” I ask.
“Not quite,” Blue replies. “You’ll reach Palmara eventually, but first you have to cross the bridge.”
My friends look from Blue’s face to mine. I know they’re waiting for me to make the next move. Even the lions are looking at me expectantly. Blue’s gray eyes taunt me—it’s like he knows how much I want to be a leader but inside I’m struggling with doubts. I glance at Vonn, but as always, his dark shades conceal his eyes.
Finally, I take a deep breath to steady my voice and say, “We’re ready.” Then I turn to check with my friends. “Right?”
They nod, and we follow the lions farther up the block. I glance over my shoulder in time to catch one last message from Vonn. “You’ve always had the power to help others, Jax. Don’t ever forget that.”
Then both screens go blank, and we’re on our own once more. The lions turn off Michigan Avenue and lead us up a path surrounded by flower beds. There are three moons in the sky—one full, one half, and one crescent—and the fragrant blossoms seem to dance in the light cast from above. In the real world, before Blue cast the sleeping spell, this park was a major tourist destination. All these empty lanes and terraces would have been packed with people wanting to see Cloud Gate. But tonight, in this space between realms, we have the silver bean all to ourselves.
It’s a lot bigger than I imagined. In the postcard my dad sent me, tourists mill around the beautiful sculpture, stopping underneath it to gaze up at their own reflection. And that’s exactly what we’re doing now.
“So cool…,” Kavi says as she spreads her fingers and reaches out to grasp her own hands.
Kenny lifts off the ground and actually manages to touch the bean’s mirrored surface. “It’s cold,” he tells us before coming back down.
Suddenly, the wind picks up, and we all shiver. It gets so chilly that we huddle together to keep warm.
“What’s happening?” Vik whispers in my ear.
“The gate must be opening,” I tell him, even though I’m not really sure what’s going on. Then I hear a voice that raises the hair on the back of my neck.
“You’re here at last.”
We look around, but the plaza is empty.
“I’ve been waiting for you, my son.”
My heart starts to race—it’s the man from my dreams! I look up at the silver bean and see Ol-Korrok looking back at me.
“It’s you!” I cry.
His dark eyes fix on mine, and his wide smile warps into a sneer. Then Ol-Korrok opens his mouth and starts to laugh. He spreads his arms wide as if to gather us in an embrace, but then his laughter becomes maniacal, and black feathers start to drip from his arms like tar.
Kavi buries her face in Vik’s arm. Kenny gasps and breathes out Jef’s warning: Beware the crow….
“It is a trap!” Vik moans.
“N-no. It—it can’t be,” I stammer, but it looks like my friends were right not to trust Blue. They’re here because they chose to trust me, and now I’ve put them in danger.
The wind howls around us, and we cringe as the massive bean starts to turn itself inside out. The arc above us comes closer and closer, pressing against us until we’re lying flat on the ground. Then Ol-Korrok’s laughter stops, and there is only darkness as the mirror sucks us inside. The last thing I hear is my friends’ frantic cries and the wizard’s voice saying, “You…are…welcome.”
My last thought before I am swallowed is of Ma. She would know what to do, but Ma can’t help me now. There is no one to save me and I can’t help my friends because I am no longer the witch’s apprentice.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am often asked by young readers which of the books I have written is my favorite. That particular “f-word” always makes me cringe; I have a favorite color (purple), but I can’t really say that I love one thing more than any other, and I definitely don’t do that with my own books. I generally tell kids that each book is distinct in my memory—I’ve written close to a hundred stories at this point, and for most, I can remember who and where I was at the moment of creation.
The Witch’s Apprentice will always stand out as my pandemic novel. I moved from central Pennsylvania to Evanston, Illinois, in August 2020; I had never been to Evanston, and I signed a lease on an apartment that I had only viewed on YouTube. Fortunately, my new home turned out to be perfect for me, and my proximity to Chicago made it easy to do research for this novel, the third in my dragon series.
As a newcomer, I enjoyed exploring the city, but I also relied heavily on the expertise of my local friends. Natalie Bennett recommended Evanston as a potential home; she generously shared her knowledge of the South Side, connected me with Essence McDowell and Lakeesha Harris, and helped me find a place for Jaxon to have his first taste of deep-dish pizza. I ordered a copy of Essence’s guidebook Lifting as They Climbed: Mapping a History of Black Women on Chicago’s South Side (coauthored with Mariame Kaba); when its delivery was delayed, Monica Horton sent me photos of the map in her copy of the guidebook so I could proceed with my research and easily locate Elam House (the inspiration for Miss Ellabelle’s Home for Working Women and Girls). After my copyeditors flagged the use of Chi-Town in the novel as possibly outdated among locals, I went to Monica again; she and Ebony Wilkins polled their friends and assured me that Chi-Town was still in use.
Satia Orange forwarded online events about Chicago history and treated me as though we’d been neighbors forever, even driving to Evanston for a quick curbside chat. Elisa Gall also welcomed me to Evanston and told me about the children’s memorial to Breonna Taylor along the Midway; Madeline was one of Elisa’s kindergarten students at the University of Chicago Laboratory School, and her artwork inspired the fictional tribute Jax sees while touring the city with Vonn.
After taking the Chicago Architecture Center’s boat tour on my birthday with Cozbi A. Cabrera and her daughter Jana, I became a member and, through the CAC’s Open House Chicago, discovered the Forum in Bronzeville. It’s an imposing building with an impressive history. Urban Juncture Foundation is raising funds to repair the roof; you can donate and/or learn more about this historic building at theforumbronzeville.com. Having Cozbi for a neighbor again has been such a blessing, and I’m thankful for our weekly walks, where I have space to reflect on (and rant about) the creative process and the publishing industry.
Though the pandemic kept us apart, I received support from many friends in distant places. My historian friend Christian Crouch urged me to include Black women’s contribution to the 1893 World’s Fair. Lakeesha Harris shared her perspective as a Black witch and reminded me that one cannot heal oneself without also serving one’s community. I appreciated Gilles Perrine’s introduction to Miora Razafiarivony, who verified my use of Malagasy terms for brother and sister (Ranadahy and Ranabavy). I met Gilles through his mentor, David Thompson, who is the husband of my longtime friend and unofficial editor Kate Foster. Kate read the manuscript, and her feedback helped clarify my vision for the series.
