CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tess  

Tess got home from Coney Island still tasting funnel cake, still thinking about the chess pieces the Turk had given them.

Theo had gotten a knight, a piece that moves in a distinctive “L” shape—two squares horizontally and one square vertically, or vice versa—and can’t be blocked. It simply jumps to new locations.

Jaime had gotten the king, a piece that moves exactly one square in any direction but has one special move it can make only once a game—castling.

And Tess’s piece, the queen, can move any number of squares and in any direction.

What were they supposed to do with the pieces? Did it mean there was another chess game in their future? Was there some significance to the pieces they got?

“Tess, you’ve hardly touched your chick’n. Is there something wrong?” her father asked.

“Oh no! It’s great, Dad, thanks.” She forked up a big bite of grilled chick’n, popped it in her mouth, and chewed. “Ummm,” she said. “It’s good.”

“I’m glad,” her father said. “But please don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

“You’re such a pig, Tess,” Theo said.

“Aboabink aboabink,” she said. She slipped a piece of chick’n to Nine, who gulped it back. “Where’s Mom?”

“Where do you think?” her dad said.

“Work,” said Tess.

“Wabork,” said Theo.

“Wabork schmabork,” said their father, who seemed to think this was hilarious. Dads were so proud of their dad jokes.

“Where’s Aunt Esther?” Theo asked.

“That I do not know,” said their father. “She does so many things that I can’t keep up with her.”

“Oh, she’s probably racing in the Iditarod,” Tess said.

“Kayaking down the Amazon,” Theo said.

“Climbing Mount Everest.”

“Rocketing into space.”

“All of that sounds ridiculous and yet entirely plausible when it comes to your aunt,” said their dad, getting up to scrape the remains of his dinner into Nine’s dish. “We’ll have to ask her when she gets home.”

“She won’t tell us,” said Theo. “She never explains.”

Their father piled dishes in the sink and squirted everything with soap. “Some people like to be mysterious. Like you two.”

“What?” Tess and Theo said at the same time. “Us?”

“Yes, you two. You’ve spent the whole summer either out all day with Jaime or holed up in your room doing who knows what. Care to share?”

Tess didn’t look at Theo, Theo didn’t look at Tess. They both studied their dinner plates with intense concentration. Their father laughed.

“See? Mysterious.”

“We’re not doing anything,” Tess said.

“Sure, sure,” said their dad.

“We’re not!” Theo insisted.

“In that case,” said their dad, “maybe you two want to sit with your dear old dad and watch a movie.”

Tess was about to say no, but their dad looked so hopeful that she couldn’t. So that’s how they found themselves sitting in front of the TV after dinner instead of researching Eliza Jumel and the Morris-Jumel Mansion. Their dad found a movie on one of the streaming channels and they settled in to watch The Lost Girl, which was about another set of twins, girls, who were separated into different classrooms at school by their parents, who thought the girls would be better off developing their own interests instead of relying on each other, something Tess thought was ridiculous.

“I mean,” she said, “they obviously have their own interests already. And what’s wrong with working together and relying on each other? Why are adults so dopey?”

“Alas, another mystery,” said her dad.

The story was just starting to heat up—a creepy teacher who might be an ogre! Things disappearing all over Minneapolis! Weird dolls! Weirder crows!—when their mother came through the door.

“Hey, hon,” said their dad, pausing the movie. “Long day?”

“The longest,” said their mom. “You wouldn’t believe half the stuff that’s going on. Or maybe you would.”

“What’s going on?” said Tess.

“I shouldn’t talk about it,” said their mom, raking a hand through overlong hair in need of a trim. “But one thing I can tell you is that I heard there’s a witness in Jaime’s case.”

“Someone saw who pushed him?” Tess said. “Really?”

“Yeah, got a picture and everything,” said their mom. “It’s probably on the news right now.”

The twins’ dad switched over to a news app, and sure enough, the hosts were talking about a woman who had allegedly pushed a young boy off a ferry boat traveling from Manhattan to Hoboken.

“Anyone who knows the woman in this photo or has any information should contact the police immediately.”

On the screen, a woman in a silvery-gray coat glanced at the camera. Tess gasped.

“What?” said their mom. “Do you recognize her?”

“Noooo,” said Tess, her voice too high, too tight. “She’s just . . . very pretty.”

“Pretty people can be criminals, too,” said their mother. “It has nothing to do with how you look.”

“I know, it’s just . . .” Tess had another thought. “Did Jaime identify her?”

“No. He says he never saw her. But we’ve got people out looking for her. And now that her picture is on the news, it will be hard for her to hide for long.”

Theo started to laugh and then covered it with a cough.

“That sounds nasty, Theo. Do you have allergies again?” said their dad. “I’ll get you a pill.”

“No, Dad, I’m fine,” Theo said, but their dad ran upstairs to the bathroom anyway.

“I’m surprised they haven’t engineered allergies right out of us,” their mom said absently, taking off her rumpled suit jacket.

“Isn’t genetic engineering illegal?” Tess said.

“I was kidding, Tess.”

“Besides, if they engineered allergies right out of us,” Theo said, “the drug companies would go out of business. I bet that would upset some very powerful people.”

“Wow, you two are fun,” said their mom.

“What’s more fun than discussing the ramifications of capitalism?” said Theo.

“Was that a joke?” said their mom.

“What?”

Their dad came down the stairs with a pill. “Here you go!”

As Theo took his allergy pill and their dad went to the kitchen to warm up their mom’s dinner, Tess tried to figure out what she thought about the woman on the screen. There were several possibilities:

       1) It was Ava herself, she was still angry, and she had decided to punish them all by pushing them off boats. (Note to self: No more boat rides.)

       2) It wasn’t Ava at all—it was a person impersonating Ava. (Note: That would mean that someone else knew that Ava was still kicking—literally and figuratively—after more than a hundred fifty years.)

       3) It was Ava, but she had another reason to push Jaime into the water, something not immediately obvious in the photograph. (Note: Further study of the photograph necessary.)

       4) It was a complete coincidence and had no meaning whatsoever. (Note: Too adorable?)

Way, way too adorable, Tess thought. So either it was Ava or someone who looked like Ava. But why would Ava push Jaime off a boat . . . unless she was trying to save him from something worse? And what was worse than being tossed into the river? What if there were sharks in the river? What if there were things worse than sharks in the river?

Jaime was fine, though. And he had come with them to Coney Island. And he had brought his sketchbook again, the way he always had. Despite her concern and confusion over seeing Ava/Ava’s impersonator on the news, Tess smiled to herself, happy that the three of them would be going uptown together, looking for another clue.

“What are you smiling about, Tess?” said her mom, who had come back into the living room with her dinner.

“Oh, just this awesome movie we were watching.”

“Yeah? What’s it about?”

Tess and Theo talked to their parents about the movie: about twins, about school, about nature, and about magic. And then they watched the end of the movie together. When Tess lay down to sleep, she realized that the few hours she’d spent with her parents that night were the longest time in months she’d gone without worrying about something or someone, about forces she couldn’t control. She fell asleep with Nine curled up on the bed beside her, purring softly in her ear.

The next morning, Tess and Theo had the house to themselves. Their parents were both at work, and Aunt Esther was off Aunt Esthering. The twins talked about the woman on the TV, whether she was Ava Oneal (maybe?) or wasn’t Ava Oneal (maybe?), whether they had to be more careful (probably?) and/or avoid boats (definitely). And then they researched the Morris-Jumel Mansion and Eliza Jumel while Lance happily whipped up some pancakes for breakfast. They were talking about Eliza Jumel, about how she was born in poverty, lost her parents and brother, and then moved to New York City, changed her name, and became an actress. She married Stephen Jumel, a rich French Haitian businessman, and became an art collector.

“But New York society never quite accepted her,” Tess read, “even though she managed the business affairs of her family with great skill. Well, that’s not shocking.”

“Because New York society was made up of snots?”

“Because New York society was made up of snots who were suspicious of smart and accomplished women.”

“That seems counterproductive,” said Theo.

Tess squinted at him to see if he was being sarcastic, but he seemed as serious as always. Huh. Theo wasn’t the type of boy who made a lot of comments about girls being weak or dumb or useless the way some boys at school did, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t said ignorant things in the past. Maybe he’d grown up some. For a brother, he was okay.

Maybe she had grown up some, too.

Lance was sliding another stack of pancakes onto the platter in the middle of the kitchen table when the doorbell rang.

“Is Jaime meeting us here?” Tess asked.

“I don’t think so,” said Theo. “But if he is, we have plenty of pancakes.”

“I’ll go see,” said Tess. She went to the door and looked through the peephole. A beefy middle-aged man with dusty, mushroomish skin and wig-stiff light brown hair stood at the door, smiling.

Tess opened the door. “Yes?”

“Oh hello there!” the man said. “How are you today?”

“Uh, fine,” Tess said. “Can I help you?”

“I’m with Citizens for a Greater New York City. Would I be able to speak to your parents?”

“Sorry, they’re not”—she remembered just in time never to tell strangers that they were home alone—“available right now.”

“That’s too bad,” the man said. His smile was big and bright but didn’t seem to reach his eyes, eyes that weren’t focused on Tess but rather on the room behind Tess, as if he were trying to get a look into the house. She wanted to suggest that he stay outside, because clearly he needed the vitamin D.

He said, “Is there a good time for me to visit?”

“A good time?”

“Yes, a time when your parents will be home.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t home,” Tess said. “They’re home. They’re just not—”

“—available,” the man finished, still smiling. Tess didn’t care for the finishing or the smiling.

Nine padded up behind Tess and stuck her big whiskered face between Tess and the screen door. She took one look at the man and growled. The man growled back.

“Okay!” said Tess. “Well, thanks for stopping by.”

“Would you mind giving your parents this information sheet? We’re having a meeting tomorrow night and we’re hoping to get as many people in the community to come as we can.” He held up a sheet of paper, on which the words Citizens for a Better New York City were emblazoned. “I’m sure they’ll want to come.”

Tess said, “How do you want to make it better?”

His posh diction slipped a bit. He said, “Huh?”

“You said you wanted to make New York City better. How do you want to do that?”

“That is an excellent question! We want to restore commonsense values and, at the same time, move the city forward.”

Nine growled louder. Tess agreed. “What does that mean?”

“I’d be happy to discuss it with your parents,” said the man. Again he peered behind Tess. Tess returned the favor by peering behind the man. Outside, leaning against a solar lamppost, was another man, holding the same sort of leaflets that this one was holding. He also had stiff, sprayed hair combed straight back, though his was dark. His mirrored sunglasses were aimed right at them.

It was the odd fellow who had followed them from Odd Fellows Hall.

“I hear my mom calling me,” Tess said. “Leave your stuff in the mailbox.” She began to shut the door.

The man said, “Your parents will want to come to our meeting. Our featured speaker is Darnell Slant. You might have heard of him.”

It seemed to Tess that the man’s smile and the man’s eyes—his whole entire face—went glinty and hard with amused malice as he spoke. The man tucked the information sheet into the box next to the door.

“Mr. Slant is not someone you can ignore. He’s going to be mayor, you know. And after that, senator. Or governor. Maybe even president. A man like that has all sorts of resources. All sorts of . . . friends. And if you make an enemy of him . . . well, I don’t even want to say. Of course you would never do that, would you? A smart girl like you? Especially when you think what a man like that, a powerful man, the most powerful man in the country, could do to your whole family.” He leaned in closer. “A man like that could make a phone call, one phone call, and everyone you love could just . . . disappear forever. A puzzle you would never be able to solve.”

Tess slammed the door shut, locked it, breathing hard. She thought she heard the man laugh, a scratchy, creaky laugh, full of cobwebs and dirt, the kind of laugh that creepy dolls in scary movies make.

Through the door, the man’s voice buzzed like a wasp. “I suggest you and your parents come to our meeting.”

Tess backed away as if the man could explode the door with the power of his mind, and who was to say he couldn’t?

“Who were you talking to?” Theo asked when Tess backed into the kitchen.

“A mushroom man with snap-on hair like a Lego.”

“Wait, was he a mushroom man or a Lego?”

“Both? He wants us to come to a Citizens for a Better New York City meeting.”

“Us? Why?

“I think Slant knows we’re onto something.”

“The Lego knows Slant?”

“And I think Slant will try to hurt us, all of us, if we don’t stop.”