The next week passed by in a blur. Vanessa found it hard to concentrate on her school work, and her friends began to notice that she was preoccupied most of the time. Vanessa’s Mom thought her daughter was acting strangely, too, but when she asked her what was wrong, Vanessa simply shrugged.
On Friday afternoon she rushed to her room after school and flung open the closet door, but there was nothing to be found there except her regular clothes. The blue tunic was missing. She sat anxiously on the edge of the bed, counting the seconds as the hands of her clock inched toward four. But as the hour approached, she felt that something was wrong. There was no familiar tingle in the air that always came when the purple mist was on its way. Everything felt plain and drab and ordinary.
Four o’clock came and went. Vanessa heard her mother enter the front door downstairs. She called out as usual, and Vanessa sighed and answered her. She looked around the room, confused and disappointed that Partequineus hadn’t beckoned to her again. Finally she went to the door and was just about to go into the hall when she heard a faint whisper, somewhere inside her own head.
“Believe in us,” the whisper said. “Be patient and believe.”
After supper Vanessa sat listlessly in the living room. The television set was on, but she paid little attention to it. Her mother challenged her to a game of Monopoly, but Vanessa couldn’t seem to concentrate. She ended up owning only half a dozen widely scattered houses and one railroad, and quickly went bankrupt.
“You weren’t much competition tonight,” her mother said. “Is something the matter at school?”
“I’m okay,” Vanessa said lethargically. “I’m just tired, I guess. I think I’ll go to bed early.”
Vanessa’s Mom watched her daughter climb the stairs slowly, her shoulders slumped and her feet dragging. She knew something was wrong, but hadn’t any idea how she could help. She hoped that Vanessa would feel better in the morning.