Extraordinary October. Diana Wagman
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today,” he said and when I didn’t answer right away, he continued, “You’ll be glad you did. Trust me.”
“Today. Okay. That’d be like, way cool.” I groaned again. Seemed I could not speak like a normal person. “I guess I shouldn’t meet you at school since I went home sick.”
He laughed a deep, warm, manly chuckle. My toes curled against the rug. Those eyes. That laugh. I hoped the experiment would take forever.
“How about Henderson Park?” he asked.
“Sure.” We agreed on a time and a particular bench by the swing set. I hung up. I wasn’t itching, but I had a weird, jittery feeling. A good one. The thought that I was going to sit and answer questions for Blue-Eyes, Walker, was—well, the most exciting thing that had happened to me in a long, long time. Pathetic, but true.
The big question was what to wear. My new jeans were in the laundry. I didn’t think I could get them washed and dried in time. I forced myself to look in the mirror again. Old favorite jeans: check. I’d worn them a day or two, but they weren’t too baggy. Gray 80’s band T-shirt: sort of check. It was okay, not great. I held up my new summer blouse, an early birthday gift to myself, that I hadn’t worn yet. It was pretty, kind of revealing, but if I changed it might appear as if I was trying to impress him, or worse, seduce him. Not that I knew how. I looked outside. It was getting cloudy. I decided to put on my favorite sweater, a soft, black V-neck. A girl wasn’t supposed to freeze to death for a psych experiment, was she? I looked good—for me. But what to tell my dad? It would have to be the truth—minus Walker being the most beautiful man I’d ever met. I needed the car if I was going to Henderson Park.
The doorbell rang. I started down the stairs to answer it and was surprised to see my dad had beaten me there. He opened the door to a young red-haired woman who had to be six feet tall. She was incredible looking. Her face almost didn’t look real, or as if she’d had plastic surgery to look like a Disney princess. Her skin was flawless and a creamy coffee color with a faint blush on her high cheekbones, her green eyes very large and framed in long dark lashes, her eyebrows a perfect arc and her lips shaped like Cupid’s bow. I thought she might hypnotize my dad just by her perfection. Oddly for someone in her twenties, she wore a long dress with wide, flapping sleeves plus layers and layers of scarves and flowing material—all in shades of rust and orange. She floated in the door.
“Hello, Neal,” she said warmly.
She took my father’s two hands in hers and looked at him for a long, long moment. He stared back at her without moving, his mouth hanging open. Yup. It was just as I feared. A gorgeous woman had never looked at him that way and he was stunned. Finally I’d had enough and I cleared my throat.
My dad shook his head. “Hey, Pumpkin.” He looked kind of embarrassed. As well he should have.
I walked over to the two of them. It was my turn for her eagle eye; she stared at me like she was trying to see through my skin to my bones. It wasn’t comfortable. I stepped out of her line of sight and half behind my dad.
“This is my daughter,” Dad began and for the first time ever in my life, he blushed as he continued, “October.”
“What a beautiful name,” she said and turned to me. “Pleased to meet you.” She tried to grab my hand in hers, but I moved back and sort of waved. For some reason, I didn’t want her to touch me.
Dad said, “This is Madame Helena Gold.”
“You’re the hypnotist?” I said. “You make house calls?”
“I go wherever I am needed.” Madame Gold gave a little flutter and her sleeves and dress swirled around her. “How are you feeling, October?”
Did I imagine it or was she asking as if she knew something? “I feel great,” I said.
“I hope we can be good friends.”
She tried to look me in the eye and I avoided her. Maybe she was only twenty-five or six, but I still didn’t want to be her friend. I turned to Dad. He was staring at her. “Dad.” I snapped my fingers by his ear. “Yo, Dad. Can I take the car?”
“Please stay,” Madame Gold said before he could answer. “I would love to get to know you better.”
“Don’t you have a lot of hypnotizing to do?”
“My method includes the entire family,” she said. “We all have many influences, the surrounding energies are so important.”
“Well. I wish I could stick around and watch you work,” I said. “Too bad I’ve got to get to the library.” Adults always backed down for homework. “Big research paper due.”
But she knew I was lying, I could see it on her face that she could see it on my face. Her green eyes narrowed. “Neal?” she turned to my dad.
“You should stay awhile,” he said to me. “You can go to the library later.”
She had already hooked him. He was enthralled, captivated, under her spell, and she hadn’t even made him count backwards from 100 or anything.
“Okay,” I said. “Fine. But I’m meeting…someone at two o’clock.”
“What for?” Dad asked.
“I can’t be late. He’s a college psych student. I’m part of an experiment.”
I could swear Madame Gold gave a little gasp.
An hour later—a long, long, long hour later—I had to admit whatever Madame Gold was doing was working on my dad. He was mesmerized. I sat with the two of them as long as I could stand it while she talked about the wind and the clouds and the primal forces and that some people are lambs and some people are wolves and some people are raccoons. I’d never heard such a load in my life, but when I brought out tea and the secret stash of cookies my mom kept just for an occasion like this, my dad didn’t eat one. He didn’t even look at the bag; he barely drank his tea. He just sat in his chair listening to her. On the other hand, I was starving and managed to devour at least half the plate. Of course by this time it was one o’clock and I hadn’t eaten anything since some yogurt for breakfast.
It was rude, but finally I asked, “How much is this gonna cost? I mean you’ve been here for forever.”
“How sweet of you to be concerned.” I could tell she didn’t think it was sweet at all. “Your father and I have it all worked out.”
I nodded and helped myself to another cookie. Maybe my dad would lose 100 pounds and I’d gain fifty. I was beginning to feel sick and kind of dizzy. First the itch. Then I felt so good. Now, all of a sudden, I felt lousy. My head hurt and my palms—just my palms—were red and itchy. I was hot in my black sweater. I wanted to look good for Blue-Eyes, but I was beginning to wonder if I was well enough to go at all. Madame Gold just kept talking. Something about how obviously my father was a bird, a small beautiful bird. No wonder he built all those birdhouses. I looked over at her and she wavered and undulated as if she were underwater. I knew I had a fever. I was coming down with something bad. Maybe my flesh-eating disease was taking its next step. Hadn’t Nurse Raynor said it could be viral?
“Excuse me.” I stood up and the room was spinning.
“Let me help you,” said Madame Gold.
“No.” I backed away from her, for some reason desperate that she shouldn’t touch me. I turned and rushed upstairs. I hoped I’d make it to the bathroom before hell broke loose.
I slammed the door behind me and sort of collapsed on the floor. The white tiles were cool through my jeans. I swallowed hard, ready to puke, but I didn’t feel sick anymore. I could smell my mother’s perfume. Mom, I thought. Mom. Somehow thinking of her made me feel better. I got up and opened the little window behind the shower and stood in the tub taking big, deep gulps of fresh air. Something about me was not right. I was sick, but with what? The symptoms were all over the place. I concentrated on breathing in and out and my head began to clear. The sky was a strange putty