“Did everything go okay today?” Mallory’s dad asked her as they waited by his truck for Ephraim and Brynn.
“Sure,” Mallory said. “Ephraim made all sorts of friends. You don’t need to worry about him.”
“I wasn’t asking about Ephraim.”
Mallory picked at some peeling paint on the side of the truck.
“I was thinking with the arrival of the Appledores, and Ephraim being your age, maybe this would be an opportunity for you to reach out and make some new friends.”
“I don’t want friends.”
To his credit, her dad did not tell her that everybody wants friends. Instead he took his wool cap off his head and rubbed his hair, which, Mallory knew, meant there was something he needed to tell her, but didn’t want to.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Your mother called.”
Mallory pressed her lips together and looked away.
“She misses you,” he said.
“She left.”
“She left me,” he said. He rubbed his hand hard against the top of his head.
“Same difference.”
“She’ll come back. Your mother has left again and again, but she always comes back. I thought having a child would keep her—” He stopped, realizing what he had implied. “Not that you weren’t enough for her. You’re her world. This isn’t your fault.” He tried to catch her eye. “I’m doing a terrible job of this, aren’t I?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve never been good at putting the right words to things. The long and short of it is, she’d like you to go visit her.”
“No chance,” she replied.
“She said she has a bed made up just for you with special sheets and everything.” Her dad winced as he said this, with good reason. All of this made Mallory feel like her mother thought she was still a small child, able to be convinced that something was special when really it was just different. “Just think about it, okay?”
A plane flew overhead. “Turboprop,” her dad declared. “ATR-42.” He identified planes the way others identified birds.
Mallory watched the plane disappear over the horizon, then looked back at the school. “They’re coming.”
Ephraim and Brynn came out of the east wing. They walked across the parking lot with leaves swirling around their feet. Ephraim’s shoes scuffed along the pavement.
Ephraim helped Brynn into the jump seat, and then climbed in himself. He sighed.
“Rough day?” Henry asked as he dropped the truck into reverse.
“No, it was peachy.” Ephraim rested his arm against the cool window.
Mallory’s dad eased the truck into first gear and pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m sure it wasn’t so bad.”
“Sure,” Mallory said, grateful to have such an easy target to lash out at after the discussion with her dad. “I mean, that thing in social studies wasn’t terrible. And you did the problem right in math. Eventually.”
“Thanks for pointing out the eventually part.”
“Here’s the thing about Crystal Springs,” she said. “Everyone’s a little bit smarter, a little bit stronger.”
“I didn’t peg you as a town-pride person.”
“I’m not. It’s just the truth. We win all the athletic championships. All the Quiz Bowls and chess tournaments—whatever it is, we just win.”
“Who knows? Good genes and inbreeding. Maybe there was a beneficial mutation and now we’re all brilliant.” Mallory wished she had not started this line of conversation. She could see her dad leaning forward, ready to explain about the Fountain of Youth and the power of this place.
“So you’re brilliant now?” Ephraim asked.
“I was just trying to make you feel better. You don’t have to be such a jerk about it.”
“Okay now,” Mallory’s dad said. “That’s enough.”
Ephraim settled down into his seat and actually seemed to pout.
“What about you, Brynn?” Henry asked. “I hope you had a better day.”
“We’re adding fractions!” Brynn said joyfully. “We won’t do that until next year back home.”
Mallory couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows and mouth the word See to Ephraim. He glowered in return.
They drove through town, past the Wylie Five and Dime, where her great-uncle Edwin and his friend Edward were stationed, as usual. Henry raised his hand in greeting. Then he cleared his throat.
“Ephraim, you know, I think I understand what you’re feeling.”
Mallory tightened her fists.
“I was born in Crystal Springs, but then I moved away. When I came back, it was like something out of an H. G. Wells novel. Everything was normal, but everything was also a little off. Is that what you’re feeling?”
Ephraim turned his head from the window to look at Henry. “Something like that.”
He rubbed his chin. “There is an explanation, of course. There’s always an explanation.”
“Dad,” Mallory said, the tone of her voice a warning.
“There is something different about Crystal Springs. Something special.” He took his eyes off the road to look at Ephraim.
In the backseat, Brynn had stopped reading and was looking forward. “What kind of special, Mr. Green?” she asked.
“Please, call me Henry.”
“It’s just a story,” Mallory said. “A silly story.”
Her dad pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “There’s no such thing as a silly story. Every story serves a purpose.”
As far as Mallory was concerned, the purpose of this story was to mortify her. She pulled her hood up around her face and sank down into the seat. Her dad drove the truck up the driveway and stopped it in front of the Water Castle. “I guess, though, that it’s a story for another day.”