Meghan tried again, and the oboe squeaked.
The woman smiled warmly. “Lovely. We’ll work on that a little each day. Until next time, then.”
The woman faded to black, and words appeared once again. Meghan quickly put the basket of instruments away when she saw that it was nearly time for her to meet her brother.
She gazed in her closet, somewhat overwhelmed by all the clothes that hung there, and after much consideration chose a pale green dress. Looking curiously in the bathroom mirror, she fussed with her hair. She stared at the clear box on the counter, clueless as to what the various ribbons and bows contained within were for. She picked them up and examined them carefully.
When it was almost eight o’clock, she went to the blackboard, not at all sure how to get to the lounge, but finding the word “lounge” in large letters written on the board, she touched it. The blackboard shimmered like liquid, and a face pressed through, as if it were wearing a black silky mask. The face smiled.
“Good evening, Meghan. My name is Evelyn, and I am your blackboard. To get to the lounge, please enter the glass tube in the corner of your room. On the miniature blackboard inside the tube, press the word ‘lounge,’ and you’ll be there in no time.”
“Um … thank you, Evelyn.” Meghan entered the tube, biting her lip nervously, took a deep breath, and pushed the word “lounge” on the small board. She didn’t even have time to close her eyes before the scene changed—it was almost as if her room became the lounge. She stepped out of the glass tube and looked at her surroundings.
The lounge was enormous—three times the size of the kitchen. Dozens if not a hundred people as well as a few odd-looking creatures chatted and danced and laughed with each other. A band played fast music in the corner, and in the center of the room was a large circular island counter with stools all around.
There were no gathering places like this in Quill—letting people gather during leisure time was dangerous. Everyone knew that; it just wasn’t allowed. So Meghan was quite unsure of the lounge, for she could draw nothing from her memory with which to compare it.
As Meghan stood uncertainly with her back to the tube, trying very hard to remember what her brother looked like and wondering how much he might have changed in the past five years, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She whirled around.
It was Alex. “Whoa, the tube is completely wacky, isn’t it, Meg? I’ve been all around already!”
Meghan sighed in relief. “I’m so nervous,” she said. “What if I can’t find my brother?”
Alex shrugged. “Well, use the blackboard, then.”
“How?”
“Just go over to it and ask it to find him. I’ll bet it can do that. It can do everything! What have you been doing all this time, taking a nap?” Alex took a good look at her. “What the—what’s that in your hair?” He laughed and pointed at the ribbon Meghan had finally decided to tie around her ponytail. He was completely baffled.
Meghan ignored him and walked over to the blackboard. “Hello,” she said uncertainly. A shimmering face pressed outward from the center of the blackboard, just as Evelyn had done in her room.
“Hello, Ms. Ranger.” This blackboard had a male voice, and he stretched out the a sound in her last name lazily.
“I’m looking for my brother. Sean. Sean Ranger. Um …”
“Ohhhh, delighted to help,” the board replied. It cleared its throat. Immediately the room’s sound was muted, though no one seemed to notice. The band played as usual, people continued in conversation, but there was no sound at all until the blackboard spoke again. “Sean Ranger, your poor dear sister is standing here in the lounge waiting for you, you dolt.” The room’s volume immediately resumed its normal level.
Meghan clapped a hand over her mouth. “Good grief,” she said. “You’re blunt, aren’t you?”
“Wouldn’t you be blunt too, if you had to live in a perpetual party room?”
Meghan hadn’t thought about that before. “Yes,” she said, “I suppose I might be.”
“Indeed. All right, here he comes. Enjoy your reunion.”
“Um … thank you … um …”
“Earl.”
“Thank you, Earl.”
The board’s face smiled politely before it melted and was replaced by words once again.
Meghan turned away and scanned the room, biting her fingernails. She still didn’t see anyone moving toward her, besides Alex. But when she glanced at the row of tubes, someone was just stepping out, combing his fingers through his reddish-brown hair and adjusting the collar of his shirt. It was Sean.
Meghan’s heart stuck in her throat. He looked so much older now. She vaguely remembered when he left the family. He was a gangly boy back then, and now he looked like a grown-up. Strange tears flooded her eyes and bubbled over as he caught sight of her.
His face lit up. He walked swiftly toward his sister, picked her up, and whirled her around. “Meggie, you—” The words caught in his throat. He set her down and hugged her gently, then pushed her shoulders back and looked at her, his eyes dancing. “You naughty, naughty thing, you,” he said, teasing. “You’ve turned out just like your useless older brother. Poor Mother and Father.” He sniffed airily. “They won’t be allowed another child now. They must feel like such failures. Tch.”
Meghan thought she heard a bitter twist to his words, but with all the emotions that before now she had been required to suppress, combined with all the excitement and surprises and stress of the day, Meghan couldn’t be quite sure of anything.