Ridley Pearson - Power Play

“Someone important to us,” Maybeck said, in a rare moment of genuine concern.

“Someone who needs us,” Willa added.

Mrs. Whitman nodded thoughtfully. “If I were a kid again,” she said, “I would want you all as my friends.” From then on, she didn’t ask any more questions.

Finn and Willa met Jess in back of Mrs. Nash’s house. Maybeck and Dillard staked out the street in case green-eyes were secretly watching the foster home. Charlene stayed by the car, having borrowed Mrs. Whitman’s phone to call Philby to catch him up.

Jess looked tired and unwell as they huddled in the shadow alongside a freestanding garden shed behind Mrs. Nash’s house.

“How is she?” Finn asked.

“Nothing,” she answered in a whisper. “She hasn’t moved. Hasn’t changed one bit.”

“These should help,” Finn said producing the acrobat’s spindle. Willa passed her the weaver’s spindle. “You’ll need to carve off a splinter and prick her finger.”

“I really do not want to do this,” said Jess.

Willa said, “Think of it as giving her a shot. She’s going to wake up. This is all going to be over.”

Jess’s sad eyes said it all: she didn’t believe Willa. She may have wanted to, but she didn’t.

“We’re going to wait here,” Finn said, “for the good news.”

“You can’t stay,” Jess said. “Mrs. Nash is inside. Supposedly I’m putting out the trash,” she said, indicating the bulging plastic bag at her feet. “I can’t do this until later. I’ll e-mail you,” she said to Finn, “depending what works out.”

“You’ll let us know right away?” he asked.

“As soon as I can.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Finn said.

“Yes. I know that.” She thanked them both.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Willa asked, deeply concerned.

“She’s so still, so…”

Dead-looking, Finn thought. He’d carried her. He knew.

“It’ll be over soon,” Finn said. “She’s going to be fine. Reverse the curse.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Jess disposed of the sack of garbage, slipped the two spindles down her pants to hide them, and returned inside.

“She’s bad off,” Willa said.

“Yes. I noticed.”

With everyone back in the car and Mrs. Whitman driving, she dropped Maybeck off first. Once outside the car, he leaned back in and gave Willa a hug.

“You were great tonight.”

“You, too.”

He ran down the driveway and was gone.

Willa was next. She sneaked around the house to slip inside. There was no car in the drive; thankfully, she’d beaten her mother home. Then came Charlene, whose mother waved to Mrs. Whitman from the front door.

“Dillard Cole,” Mrs. Whitman said, “does your mother know where you’ve been?”

“Ah…”

“He’s been over at our house,” Finn said. “Kinda.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Mrs. Whitman.

Finn stopped his friend with a hand on the shoulder. “Dude, you were awesome tonight.” Finn smiled. “Just don’t ever do it again.”

“It was way cool.”

Dillard said good night and headed inside.

“It’s nice you two are connecting again.”

“Mom, don’t get all mushy on me.”

“It’s Amanda,” his mother said to Finn. “You contacted Jess, so it must be Amanda.”

“It is,” Finn said. Long ago, he’d promised never to lie to his parents, and he worked daily to keep that promise. He could, and did, stretch the truth when needed, but he never outright lied.

“You needed something from the Park to help her.”

“Yes.”

“Did you get it?”

“We think so, yes.”

“So you stole something from Epcot.”

“Borrowed.”

“Finn?”

“Borrowed. We will return them. I promise.”

“Them,” his mother said.

She was way too smart. He couldn’t give her this kind of data to work with. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Mom. We should leave it at that.”

“I believe a lot more than your father believes.”

“I know that.”

“Speaking of which, you let me handle your father when we get home. Go along with whatever I say.”

“Aye, aye,” Finn said.

“And don’t try anything without telling me first. We’re in this together now, Finn, like it or not.”

Not , Finn thought, but didn’t say. “Okay,” he answered.

His mother tried too hard with her explanation. She would never make a spy. Finn’s father gave him the corner-of-the-eye look that typically made Finn feel like running straight to the bathroom. Instead, he shrank off to his room feeling troubled, the sound of the blade coming for his neck still fresh in his ears. What if he’d misjudged his sense of all clear ? What if the all clear had expired more quickly?

The simplicity of Jess’s e-mail message compounded Finn’s pain.

It didn’t work. Thanks for trying.

He stared at the computer screen as if by just looking it might change the message.

Neither spindle had worked. What a stupid idea it had been! Finn had been so convinced that reversing the curse would do it.

He convened an emergency video conference. Philby, Willa, and Maybeck were able to attend. Charlene’s mother had turned off the family Wi-Fi for the night, so she followed along on the family’s landline telephone, with random updates from Willa.

Philby said, “I thought one of the spindles would work. I have to tell you, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.”

Charlene said, “They were the only two Google hits that make any sense. But remember, in the movie it’s a spindle from a spinning wheel.”

“She’s right,” Philby said. “I’ve been doing some research…”

Surprise, Finn thought.

“…and in the original fairy tale, after the curse is put on the princess, the king forbids anyone from owning a distaff or spindle. The distaff holds the raw fiber; the spindle collects the spun thread. Spinning wheel ,” he emphasized. “And when you Google Disney World plus ‘wooden wheel’ you get a single decent lead: the waterwheel on-”

“Tom Sawyer Island,” Finn said.

“You got it. A wooden wheel.”

“I’m not liking this,” Maybeck blurted out. He and Finn had once been attacked on Tom Sawyer Island by Stitch and had been made to swim among alligators.

“The spindle thing was your idea!” Philby protested.

“But this is so totally OT,” Maybeck said. “They put a spell on Amanda and the only solution leads us into a trap. I mean, come on!”

“Relax. We can’t steal a waterwheel,” Finn said.

“No,” Philby said, agreeing. His voice held that know-it-all tone that Finn had come to resent. “But what if we could bring Amanda to it?”

“She’s down for the count,” Maybeck said.

“That’s right,” Philby said. “She’s asleep .”

Maybeck broke the resulting silence. “Are we done?”

Finn answered, “Philby’s saying that if Amanda is asleep then technically he could cross her over.”

“WHAT?” Maybeck exclaimed.

“Why not?” Philby asked. “When we’re asleep we cross over.”

“Is that possible?” Charlene asked. “You’re saying she’d awake as her DHI?”

Philby answered, “It’s possible. I think it’s worth a try. We cross her over, prick her finger with a piece of the waterwheel, and when I Return you all, the Amanda at Mrs. Nash’s wakes up.”

“Let me spell this out for you,” Maybeck groaned. “T-R-A-P.”

Charlene objected. “The OTs couldn’t possibly think we’d cross her over, Terry. Whatever they may have planned, it can’t be this.”

“And remember,” Finn said, “they wanted Jess in that spell, not Amanda. Depending on the green-eyes, they may not even know it’s Amanda who’s down.”