It was harder than it should have been.Partly because Maeve wanted to be an usher like she’d seen in, quote,an old movie, which meant—in theory—shining the flashlight on the floor so Jem could see where he was going.In practice, though, it meant she kept whipping the beam of the flashlight back and forth, in the process managing to shine it in Jem’s eyes a few times and, when she wasn’t blasting him in the face with it, creating a strobing effect that made him dizzy.Milo wanted to walk across the recliners like a mountain goat and, at the same time, hold Jem’s hand, which meant nearly falling every few steps and yanking Jem with him every time he stumbled.After the third time, Jem wasn’t even sure if a mountain goat was a real animal.He decided he’d have to ask Tean.
They all made it to the lobby without breaking their necks, which Jem took as a win.He got as far as the concession stand before he had to lean against the glass case.The world was doing some serious whooshing again, and he was wondering if his legs had learned how to bend sideways, because he seemed to be in serious danger of them sliding out from under him at any moment.
“You can’t eat candy for dinner,” Maeve said, and the echoes of Brigitte were uncanny.“It’ll make your teeth rot.”
“Plus we’ve been eating candy all day,” Milo said.“My stomach hurts.”
“How about this?”Jem said.“How about we call your mom and let her know you’re okay?And then we’ll go to the restaurant and get something to eat.”
“We can’t call her,” Maeve said, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Why not?”
“Because we ran away.”
Jem tried to think about that, but his brain was still trying to get going.Finally he said, “You ran away?”
“We’re going to be likeThe Mysterious Benedict Society.We’re going to solve mysteries.Only we’re going to live on our own because we never met anyone like Mr.Benedict.I already know how to make dinner.Brigitte lets me make macaroni and cheese in the microwave.”
“Well, that’s something,” Jem said.
“And we can’t go to the restaurant because all those people are looking for us, and they’ll make us go back and live with Brigitte.”
Jem rubbed his eyes.“Okay.How about this?You two go wash your hands.We’re going to have hot dogs for—wait, did you say dinner?”
“Yes,” Maeve said; she sounded like her patience was running out.“It’s dark outside.That means it’s dinner time.”
“Got it.Go wash up.”
Maeve let out a whoop and galloped down the hall, the beam of the flashlight swinging wildly back and forth.
Milo, however, hung back.He was still holding on to Jem’s hand.In a small voice, he said, “Jem, I don’t think I want to run away.”
“That’s okay,” Jem said.“We’re going to figure everything out.Go wash your hands.”
Jem considered the concession stand.Working in partial darkness, with only the emergency lights to break up the gloom, he found the roller grill and turned it on.A refrigerated case held hot dogs.The pretzel warmer was next, and he turned that on and hung some of the pretzels.When he got to the nacho cheese machine, he scored his first win: it was already on—probably because the cheese turned to glue if you let it get cold—and so he found a couple of paper boats, filled them with chips, and dispensed cheese all over them.He was pretty sure the jalapenos counted as a vegetable.
Once everything was going, he set out the nachos, helped himself to a chip coated with delicious yellow goop, and dug out his phone.
Four missed calls from Tean.
One missed call from an unknown number.
One voicemail.
He played the voicemail.
“Hello, this is River Jordan—”
He needed to deal with that.Eventually.But for the moment, Jem ended the message and called Tean.
“Jem?”Tean said.
“Hey.”For a moment, embarrassment surged up inside Jem, and he didn’t know what to say.Then he said, “Is it really dinner time?”
Tean’s laugh came a second later, mixing relief and hurt.“I don’t know.I’ve been so out of it.The clock says seven, so I guess it’s dinner time.”
“Huh.”
