at the correct time—it might just take you back to Everwhere. You carry on past these gates, knowing you won’t return on that particular night, at that precise time. You’re too scared of what happened last time and if it might happen again. Still, the question of what might happen if you did lingers long after the gate has gone.
Goldie
For nearly a week I didn’t go to Everwhere. Instead, I stayed up late watching Teddy—I’d named him after my lost bear—sleep. He was fun to watch. He made silly scrunched-up faces as if he was having strange dreams. He kicked his legs and flailed his arms, as if trying to escape his cot. Sometimes he opened his eyes, darker blue in colour, but in shape mirrors to my own, and I was reminded again that he was mine. Brother, mine. It was only a shame that his tiny hands were always tight shut, since I wanted to hold them. I wanted all his fingers to wrap around one of mine. Sometimes I wriggled my littlest finger between the commas of his clenched fingers until he grasped hold as if he’d never let me go. I hoped, one day, he would do the same on purpose.
It shocked me, every day, how deeply I felt for Teddy. More than I’d ever felt for anyone, even Ma. I loved my sisters, even Bea, but it wasn’t the same. Perhaps because he was a baby. I wanted to protect him. Sometimes, when Ma and my bastard stepfather were shouting, firing words at each other over the top of Teddy’s bed, I wanted to scoop him up in my arms and run. I wondered if I could take him to Everwhere. I didn’t think so. It seemed to be a place only for girls, given what I’d seen. But perhaps. Bea would know, naturally, though I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of asking. She loved to tease us, her ignorant sisters. She drew great delight from dropping buttered breadcrumbs into conversations and waiting for us to bite. The others always fell for her bait, but I’d learned better. She still hadn’t told us who “he” was.
So, since I probably couldn’t take Teddy with me, I whispered stories to him instead, telling him all the secrets I knew about my special place. I didn’t know if he heard me or not. Still, I thought the words soothed him, wrapped around his little body like the swaddling Ma sometimes used to still his flailing limbs and help him sleep. I even braved my stepfather during these nights, feeling his gaze on my back while I crouched over the cot. I didn’t care. He could do what he liked. He could leave his mark on me, the stench of his sweat, the sourness of his breath, the slick wet of his tongue . . . But I wasn’t there anymore to feel it.
I wondered: If I couldn’t take Teddy to Everwhere, could I bring my sisters to Cambridge? I hadn’t yet asked where they lived; it might be anywhere in the world. So perhaps it was impossible, but perhaps not. I’d like to know them better in this world, though Bea annoyed me and Scarlet slightly scared me, but Liyana seemed sweet. It’d be good to have real sisters, real friends. Ma might feel too ashamed to let me bring them to the flat for tea, but I could sneak Teddy out for a walk in the pram while he napped and meet them in the park. I made a mental note to mention this idea the next time I returned. Though I was still in no rush to go.
Scarlet
“Let’s do something fun,” Scarlet said.
Liyana looked up. “What?”
“Let’s play a trick on Bea.”
“Why?”
Scarlet shrugged. “It’ll be funny.”
“All right,” Liyana said. “As long as it doesn’t make her upset. I don’t like it when she’s upset.”
“Don’t worry,” Scarlet said. “It’ll make her laugh.”
If it took Scarlet a while to convince Liyana of this, it took longer to convince her of the necessity of climbing a tree to execute the trick. Scarlet went first.
“You have to be high up if you want to call the rain.” Scarlet coaxed her sister up to the second branch. “Hurry.”
Liyana refused to climb any higher. “I think this branch is about to snap.”
“All right, all right.” Scarlet rolled her eyes. “So close your eyes and bring the rain to the glade, but a downpour, not a drizzle.”