A Map of Days (Miss Peregrine's Peculiar Children #4) - Ransom Riggs Page 0,17

foot at them as she walked. “I’m not your mother.”

They fluttered off in a wave, but kept following.

“Birds love you, don’t they?” I said.

“In Britain they respect me—and my personal space. Here they seem downright needy.” She swept her foot again. “Go on, shoo!” They skittered into the water.

“We were due for a chat, yes?”

“I was thinking. What if I just explained everything to my parents?”

“Enoch, Millard, stop that roughhousing!” she shouted through cupped hands, then turned to me. “And we don’t wipe their memories?”

“Before I give up on them completely, I’d like to give it one good try,” I said. “I know it might not work, but if it did, things would be so much easier.”

I was afraid she would shut me down right away, but she didn’t—not exactly.

“That would be making a big exception to a long-established rule,” she said. “There are very few normals who are privy to our secrets. The Ymbryne Council would have to grant special approval. There’s an initiation process. An oath-taking ceremony. A long probationary period . . .”

“So you’re saying it’s not worth it.”

“I’m not saying that at all.”

“Really?”

“I’m only saying it’s complex. But in the case of your parents, it could be worth the trouble.”

“What could?”

Horace had come up behind us. So much for keeping this between me and Miss Peregrine.

“I was thinking about telling my parents the truth about us,” I said. “To see if they can handle it.”

“What? Why?”

That was more the reaction I’d been expecting.

“I think they deserve to know.”

“They tried to have you committed!” Enoch said. Now the others were coming out of the water and starting to gather around.

“I know what they did,” I said, “but they only did it because they were worried about me. If they had known the truth—and were okay with it—they never would have done that. And it would make things so much simpler any time you guys wanted to come visit, or when I want to visit you.”

“You mean you aren’t coming back with us?” said Olive.

Emma had just arrived, dripping seawater, and when she heard this she narrowed her eyes at me. We hadn’t talked about this privately yet, but here I was discussing it with everyone.

“I’m going to finish high school first,” I said. “But if I handle this right, we can see one another all the time over the next couple of years.”

“That’s a very big if,” said Millard.

“Just imagine,” I said, “I could come help with the reconstruction efforts—on weekends, maybe—and you guys could come here whenever you like, and learn about the normal world. You could even go to school with me, if you wanted.”

I glanced at Emma. Her arms were crossed, her face unreadable.

“Go to school with normals?” said Olive.

“We don’t even answer the door when the pizza arrives,” said Claire.

“I’m going to teach you how to deal with them. You’ll be experts in no time.”

“This is sounding more far-fetched by the second,” said Horace.

“I just want to give my parents a chance,” I said. “If it doesn’t work . . .”

“If it doesn’t work, Miss P can wipe their memories,” said Emma. She walked over to me and threaded her arm through mine. “Doesn’t it seem tragic that Abe Portman’s own son doesn’t know who his father was?”

She was on board. I squeezed her arm, grateful for the backup.

“Tragic, but necessary,” said Horace. “His parents can’t be trusted. No normal can. It makes me nervous just thinking about what they might do. They could expose us all!”

“They wouldn’t,” I said, though a little voice in my head added, Would they?

“Why don’t we just pretend we’re normal when they’re around?” asked Bronwyn. “Then they won’t be upset.”

“I really don’t think that would work,” I said.

“Some of us don’t have the privilege of pretending we’re normal,” said Millard.

“I hate pretending anyway,” said Horace. “How about we just be ourselves and Miss Peregrine can wipe their memories at the end of every day?”

“Too many wipes and people go soft in the head,” said Millard. “Moaning, drooling, the whole bit.”

I looked to Miss Peregrine, who verified this with a quick nod.

“What if they were to go on holiday somewhere far away?” Claire suggested. “Miss P could plant the idea in their heads after the wipe, when they’re suggestible.”

“And what about after they come back?” I said.

“Then we lock them in the basement,” Enoch replied.

“We should lock you in the basement,” said Emma.

I was causing everyone stress and anxiety they didn’t need. They would worry. I would worry.