The Pearl Inside of Anything

Friday, June 12th on the bus ride home

"Nice bangs," says Yammy. "Very mod."

"How come your hair is all bent?" asks Patrick.

Patrick's "Psycho" shirt is totally soaked and he smells a bit like a koi. We will have some explaining to do when we get home. Might as well start now. I suck at subterfuge. "I'm going to be a hair model," I tell him. "Starting on Monday."

"What's a hair model?"

"You are SO five," I sigh. "A hair model..." That's weird. I have to think about it. I really should've asked a few questions. "Well, it's someone who gets a great, big hairstyle and impresses some judges so much she gets to go to Texas and get an even bigger hairstyle and impress some more judges who declare she's discovered and then..."

"Sounds boring!" says Patrick, yawning and pulling himself up to look out the window.

"Sounds fantastic!" says Yammy, smacking Patrick lightly on the arm. "You know what? There have got to be, like, dozens of successful hair models out there, why can't one of them be you?"

I'm sure I could make a very long list of Why Nots. But for just this moment, I'd rather not.

***

We are almost home when Benny and Bjorn attack. I stop to get my keys out of my bag, and they must smell koi-boy beside me. All of a sudden they are on him, sniffing and licking like he's a lollipop. Patrick loves it. He laughs and squeezes his eyes shut while they slobber gross dog slime all over his face.

"Off! Off! Beat it! Scram!" I shoo them away. Patrick is now a certifiable mess. There are muddy claw marks on his wet shirt but he looks a little sad to see Benny and Bjorn go. I grab his hand and we dart through the lobby and into the elevator.

"Wen?" he pants, as the doors slide closed. "I really want a dog."

"I know, Bud, I know." I shrug. We've been through this before. No room for a dog in an apartment of four people. Usually I tell him to take it up with The Parents, but this time, I connect a dot. A really important dot.

"When I'm a famous model, the first thing I'll do is buy us a big house with a big yard, and you can have a dog."

"What kind?"

"Any kind you want."

"How about a Great Dane? Will it be big enough for a Great Dane?"

"Big enough for TEN Great Danes. A whole herd! And they can each have their own doghouse. How does that sound?" I say this, and I'm not even sure I'm a dog person. It's just so nice to make him happy even if it's only an idea.

"That sounds really good. Can I have a couple of beagles, too?"

"'May'...and don't push your luck."

"Okay," says Patrick happily. "Wen?"

"Uh huh?" I say, sticking the key in our lock.

"I think you'll be a great whatever it is you are trying to be."

"Well, don't get your hopes up, yet," which is a bad thing to say to a little kid at the best of times, his face crumples and I realize I need as many people to believe in me as possible, even if one of them is still in Kindergarten. "It's okay, forget that! Remember what Yammy said..." I ball my fists together full of fighting spirit and bend down to look at Patrick straight in the eye: "Why can't one of them be me?"

"Eggzackly!" Patrick cheers.

I have a feeling there's more to it than this but whatever. The Parents aren't home, so I give Patrick a quick wipe, make him change into a clean "Stick a Fork in Me, I'm Done!" t-shirt and plunk him in front of Gilligan's Island.

"Hey Patrick, let's not mention this afternoon to Mum and Dad, okay?"

"What afternoon?" he says, sticking his thumb in his mouth—something he only does when he's really pooped.

Tired or not, this is a kid I can count on.

Monday, June 15, 12:07 p.m. Templeton library

"Game is good," says Mr. Kovaks. "I be for to take break now. We play heestory."

Nobody says anything to correct him.

Bran tells us it's the year Thirteen hundred and four. The Kingdom of Golion is under siege. An attack on the Castle Mordrum left the city plundered and in disarray. The royal family scattered to other realms, the castle was looted and stripped of all valuables, but it's believed the crown of Mordrum is still hidden somewhere inside. Our job is to find the crown and collect its reward. Then we can ransom back all the royal pets.

"The royal pets?" says Ben.

"Dogs," says Bran gravely. "Tibetan mastiffs to be specific. They're very valuable."

Ben nods in the affirmative. "Dogs with the blood of lions. Or so they say. Just a bit of work, grooming-wise."

"They left them behind?"

"So it appears," says Bran shaking his head with disapproval. "And one Abyssinian Guinea Pig is unaccounted for, but they can hide pretty much anywhere.

At this moment I am stunned not only that anyone would leave their dog, even an imaginary royal family, and also that he knows the word Abyssinian and that there's such a dog as a Tibetan mastiff. Which, to be truthful, I have never heard of myself but clearly Ben has. Up until we started the game I think the most complicated word combination I could imagine Bran saying was cheeseburger and fries.

***

As we are leaving I hang back.

"Ben?"

"Yes?" he says, getting up and sliding in his chair.

"Do you think this is alright, what we're doing?"

"What, the game?"

"That, and we have Mr. Kovaks involved. What if he gets in trouble?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," says Ben in his easy drawl. "I think he knows what's up more than he's letting on. People think you're slow if don't speak their language well." He sighs, like he knows this first-hand.

"Besides," Ben continues. "Kovaks walked home from the war. He can take care of himself."

"The—what?"

"He was a prisoner-of-war in Central Russia in World War II. He walked home to his village in Hungary after he was freed."

"Walked? On his feet?"

"That's generally how it's done."

"But that would be thousands of miles!"

"Over three thousand," Ben says. "People did it."

"How do you know?"

"He told us last week, before you got here," Ben says simply. "So I wouldn't worry about him."

"But what about Dirt and Bran? They can't afford to get in any more trouble."

"Think about it this way, they got a bonus History lesson on World War II. Relax, Wendy," says Ben. "Everything will be fine. Anyway," he smiles, "we're in this together."