What-The-Dickens: The Story of a Rogue Tooth Fairy

  “Not your son?” asked Deputy Campbell.

  “No. A cousin,” answered Gage.

  “Look, cuz,” interrupted Deputy Herrera, “this district was cleared out several days ago. You’re not supposed to be here. This patrol is going to cost the taxpayers a bundle. Sorry to be blunt, but we’re going to have to move you out to the emergency relief station. Over to Swanson’s Gymnastics on the valley road, because we can’t get down the other way, not with things as they are.” She swept her hand out, palm upward, signaling, Everything’s a mess out there.

  Dinah was interested to notice that even doing emergency patrol work, Deputy Rosa Herrera had applied a cinnamon-red lipstick and blackish sparkly eyeliner. But Dinah also realized that her own enchantment at this was probably just relief that the deputies weren’t looters. Or worse.

  Nice eyeliner, though, that didn’t run in a three-day hurricane! That must be Deputy Herrera’s way of cheering herself up.

  “I’m not moving these kids over there,” said Gage in a growly, more grown-up tone than he usually used. “Are you nuts? We’ll take our chances here. Besides, if their folks get through, they’ll come here. They’ll expect to find us here.”

  Deputy Campbell shone the light right in Gage’s face, making him blink. “Son, if you’re not a legal guardian, then I can’t leave you with these kids. You’re clearly not in control of the situation if you’re letting the boy loose to break into homes and loot —”

  “Mrs. Golightly is a neighbor,” Zeke interrupted hotly. “She wouldn’t mind. The law of charity.”

  “What about the law of sanity? We’re wasting time here,” said Deputy Campbell.

  Deputy Herrera turned to Gage. “Look, mister, we got a drop in the wind for an hour, more or less. So most of our gang is up on Pilot’s Knob seeing if they can get the transformer fixed before the wind returns. Or if not fixed, at least slap up a tarp and a wind shield to allow work to continue after the storm ramps up again. Yeah, it’s gonna.”

  She sounds, thought Dinah, as if she is about to spit in disgust. It must be hard to do her job.

  In any case, the woman continued. “We’re in the eye of the storm now. The witching hour. But it’s coming back, at least a couple more hours of bluster before dawn. Maybe it’ll calm down then. But if the mudslides continue, nobody and her sister’s gonna get to Pilot’s Knob for another few days yet. According to the National Weather Service. Mount Raparus is a mess too, they say.”

  “Is there still a National Weather Service?” This was Zeke, trying to sound sardonic and grown-up, thought Dinah. But she could hear the worry in his voice.

  Deputy Herrera ignored him. “Look, we can’t stay here chewing the fat and we can’t let you all stay here either, for your own good. Specially if Mister Teenager isn’t the legal guardian.”

  “I’m a cousin of their mother,” said Gage. “I’m twenty-one. Not a minor. Employed full-time. Language arts teacher, as it happens. Visiting from upstate.”

  “The parents cleared out and left you in charge?” Deputy Campbell looked dubious. “Not such a smart choice, seeing you’re not up to the job.”

  “There was a — situation,” said Gage. “Their mother panicked. You improvise in a crisis. As we all know. So maybe I fell asleep an hour ago, a little bit.” (Dinah realized that the same must be true for her, too.) “Long enough for Zeke to slip out,” Gage admitted. “But look, he’s a good fellow — just a little antsy. Who could blame him? We’re doing fine here. Now don’t dawdle on our account. You go on and help those who really need it.”

  “Mister,” said Deputy Herrera in a voice that said nonnegotiable: “either you pick up that baby or I do.”

  But Gage had had enough. “You’re not going to wake up a toddler in the middle of the night; you know better than that. Do you really think she’d get any sleep at some emergency shelter? Look, I heard the news before the power cut out. I know what conditions are like at the shelter. I’m not bringing these kids, whether they’re mine or not, over there. I’m just not.”

  “Besides,” said Dinah, “I won’t go.”

  “Dinah,” said Zeke wearily, as if this little snafu were all her fault instead of all his.

  She looked at him. Her big brother, the good one in the lineup! Running away, no less. Breaking and entering. He appeared ashamed of himself, his chin tucked down into the dripping collar of his jacket. He looked bigger, too. Pity he got caught, thought Dinah, impressed despite herself.

  She kept on. “I won’t go. I won’t. Gage is right in the middle of his story, and we won’t be able to hear it over there, what with the gunshots and the gang violence and the hymn singing.”

  Addressing the adults, Gage cut in. “I’ve got an idea. We have a generator, but it’s on the fritz. If we’re in a lull, maybe you can help me get it up and running. With a little light in the darkness — well, you know —”

  “Don’t go meaningful on me; don’t have the time,” said Deputy Campbell. “Sure, we can go have a look. Because a house with a working generator on this side of the district would be a godsend. We could use this place as a safe house while we’re ferrying other holdouts and weirdos outta here. But get one thing straight. Fixed generator or no, I’m not giving you permission to stay, got that? No how, no way, José. You’re coming with us. Now show me where the useless pile of junk is, will you?”

  Gage shrugged himself into a jacket. Deputy Herrera said, “I’ll babysit.”

  “We don’t need sitters; we’re not babies,” snapped Dinah.

  Deputy Herrera indicated Zeke. “You need jailers, then. I’ll mind the jail.” She took out a lipstick and attended to matters.

  The men went out into the beguiling and unusual stillness.

  “So where are your folks?” asked Deputy Herrera, snapping her lipstick closed and stifling a yawn.

  Zeke signaled to Dinah that she shouldn’t give anything away.

  Dinah was smart enough to figure that out for herself. But she was torn. Here was a chance to learn what was really going on out there — what part was storm, what part was earthquake, what part was human panic and rampage? Once the news had stopped broadcasting, Gage had stopped musing aloud. He was treating the whole disaster as if it were a picnic on a desert island.

  But still, she reasoned quickly, she’d rather stay on a desert island with her relatives than get deported to an overcrowded shelter on the cutthroat mainland.

  So she said to Deputy Herrera, “Look, I have to catch Zeke up on the story. If he’s been out roaming the neighborhood, he’s missed out on what happened to the skibberee.”

  “A skibbydoo? A dosey-do? What’s a skibberee?”

  “That’s the formal scientific name of the creature we call a tooth fairy,” Dinah explained. She sat down officiously and put on her best girl’s-club manner. Imitating Brittney and Juliette as well as she could, she folded her legs beneath her, leaned her chin in her hands, pressed her elbows against her knees. She talked in that exaggerated, singsongy, know-it-all way that her downslope friends always did. “You think you know about tooth fairies, but, hel-loooo: you really don’t.”

  “What I don’t know about cavities!” said Deputy Herrera. “I could write the book about root canals. It would be a horror story and outsell Stephen King.” She lowered herself to the floor and leaned against the arm of the sofa. “So you know the Tooth Fairy personally?”

  “There isn’t just one,” said Dinah. “Think about it: how could there be? Hundreds of children losing their teeth every day? A single tooth fairy could never manage the assignment. So there are whole tribes of them. Colonies. Flocks of them. Arranged in sectors and divisions and stuff. They live underground in hollowed-out trees, mostly where those highway ramps circle around. The talented ones are the tooth fairies the way we think of them, flying around with money and collecting the dead teeth. Agents of Change, they’re called. Others stay in the colony and — well, I don’t know what they do there. Gage didn’t tell us yet.”

/>   “So did What-the-Dickens end up at a colony?” asked Zeke.

  “Were you gone for that long?” asked Dinah, and then she realized he was giving her a hint: talk on. Sure enough, Deputy Herrera’s eyelids were low — she must have been up several nights running, with limited chance for rest. “He did,” she said, downshifting to a softer volume. “Pepper took Claire’s baby tooth back to the Undertree Common, somewhere near Fern Hill, and What-the-Dickens followed along. There he met Old Flossie, the stump mistress, and Doctor Ill, the boss. But they were late arriving, and Pepper got — what’s the word — demerits — she got penalized, that’s it, for being late. She had to take What-the-Dickens out and lose him for good. Then she had one last chance to complete a mission on time. Which she wasn’t pleased about.”

  “Really?” said Zeke.

  “Oh, well, tooth fairies go it alone, you know. You don’t see gangs of tooth fairies roaming the night skies like flying monkeys or anything. There’s safety in numbers, sure, but there’s another kind of safety in working solo. So Pepper is ticked off that she was late because of running into What-the-Dickens. Who is pretty clueless, even if he’s got a good heart. And he follows her out of Doctor Ill’s office, and is she asleep yet?”

  “She’s out,” said Zeke in a low voice. There was a soft snore from Deputy Herrera to prove it.

  “Look what you’ve done.” Dinah used the same singsong voice, but she frowned at Zeke. “They’re going to cart us away, and then even if Dad’s Subaru manages to get overland and come back for us, we won’t be here. We’ll be stuck in some stinky airless gymnasium with everyone else. What were you thinking of?”

  “I went to see if I could find some cake for Rebecca Ruth’s birthday,” said Zeke.

  Dinah raised her eyebrows. Wow. “You’re a good big brother,” she had to concede. “Good, brave, and stupid. Your bright idea has just cost us our freedom. Did you find any cake?”

  He grinned for the first time in days. He said, “I left it in the breezeway. It’s gummy and gross. It must have been defrosting and refreezing as the power came on and off. But it can’t have gone bad yet. We can smooth out the frosting with a spoon in the morning and put your little candle in it. It’ll do.”

  “The world is going down the tubes and you’ve risked your life and our liberty to get your baby sister a birthday cake.” Dinah shook her head. “I’m tempted to say that just about takes the cake, but you already took it.”

  “Hah, hah.”

  “Well, I have to give you some credit. You snuck out without Gage or me noticing. We must’ve been nodding off. But the cake isn’t going to go very far if we have to share it with four hundred people at the shelter.”

  Zeke nodded. “Don’t think we have much choice now.”

  “We’re not going to the shelter,” said Dinah. “We’re not being moved. We’re staying here until — well, you know. Until Dad and Mom get back — or until we hear — something. We have to.”

  “How’re we going to manage that?” said Zeke.

  Dinah said, “Now listen: You got the cake, so I’ll handle the next campaign. Quiet down and give me a chance to think. Gage and the geezer deputy will be back any minute.”

  She chewed the ends of her hair and looked around the living room at the blankets, at sleeping Rebecca Ruth, at the guttering candle. Did Deputy Herrera have a gun? Could two kids lift it off her and use it to bluff their way out of this mess? Not likely. Too risky. Deputy Herrera’s arms were folded across her bosom, for one thing. If she had a shoulder holster on, it was hidden underneath her rain slicker.

  Use your good mind, her dad always said. So Dinah tried to think in her usual What’ve-we-got-here? fashion:

  The storm outside was resting, not over. It was taking a break. It was at intermission.

  The evacuations weren’t voluntary anymore. What was the word? Forced. Bossed. Mandatory.

  The deputies didn’t like kids roaming around alone.

  But somewhere in there, hardly a separate point but more a general background noise, something else figured in:

  For their own safety, those skibbereen stayed hidden, and they were forbidden to show themselves.

  Then Dinah had an idea. She could even see where it came from: by overlaying a story notion atop the way the world was working on this most peculiar night.

  She told it to Zeke and gave him cues on how to play it. “You’re going to have to be convincing,” she whispered. “You’re going to have to lie. I know how much you hate to do that, but there’s no other choice.”

  “Act like I’m terrifed? I can be convincing at that,” he said. “I’ve been practicing that for most of this week. As for lying — I’ll deal with that in my own conscience. It’s none of your business. Get on, if you’re going; she might wake up any second.”

  Dinah flicked her eyes this way and that. Quietly she slipped into the shadows between the sloping back of the sofa and the front door, up against which the threadbare thing had been lodged. From there, she could hear everything.

  When Gage and Deputy Campbell returned in a few moments, Deputy Herrera jerked herself awake and yawned. “Coulda stayed like that till morning — morning the day after tomorrow,” she groaned. Dinah pictured her getting up stiffy and rubbing the small of her back. “Any luck with the generator, Frank?”

  “No. Not my field of expertise, I’m afraid,” said the voice of Deputy Campbell. “So, come on now, better wrap that young ’un up against the winds, which are gonna rev up again within the hour. We have a small window of opportunity in which to get you safely down to the shelter. Let’s shake a leg, now.”

  “Come on, Zeke,” said Gage. His voice was low. “I guess there’s nothing else to do. We held out for as long as we could.”

  “We can’t go,” said Zeke.

  Dinah guessed that Deputy Campbell was aiming the beam of light in Zeke’s face, trying to smoke out the meaning behind those words.

  “It’s my fault,” said Zeke. His voice sounded softer, embarrassed. Good job, thought Dinah. “My lousy example. Dinah got the idea from me, I guess. She lit out herself. I don’t know where she went.”

  “She didn’t,” said Deputy Herrera. “My eyes were closed only a second!”

  The flashlights poked at the corners of the room, and Deputy Herrera then left to make a swift circuit of the small house. “I don’t be-lieve it!” she railed from a bedroom, slamming a closet door. “You people want to get yourselves killed? Is that it?”

  Dinah heard Gage say nothing — he must be just standing there like a goon. A bodyguard, dumb and unblinking.

  Deputy Herrera wouldn’t let it go. “You know a couple of folks got electrocuted by stepping on a downed power line, the only live line still left in the whole godforsaken county?” Her voice was shrill, nearly teary.

  “It’s my fault,” Zeke mumbled again and again. “I’m sorry.”

  In the end, the exhausted deputies had no choice. They couldn’t take Gage away, for if Dinah returned to the house when the storm picked up, she’d need to find an adult there. The deputies also couldn’t take Zeke and Rebecca Ruth with them — not without Gage to protect them. The safety shelter clearly wasn’t as safe as all that.

  So they gave Gage a couple of candy bars and two extra D-cell batteries for his flashlight. “You got no food, no power, no working phone,” harrumphed Deputy Herrera. “Two candy bars aren’t going to last you long.”

  “We’ve been fine so far,” said Gage helpfully. “Thanks for looking in on us.”

  They wished him luck brusquely and then tramped back out into the night.

  Dinah listened to the silence return to the room. Gently she felt the lining of the back of the sofa; it was ripped, as if mice had eaten a doorway and crawled inside. Stay safe in there, you guys, she thought to them. Don’t get blown to kingdom come.

  “Salt of the earth, those two deputies,” said Gage. “God keep them, as your mother would say. We ran those good souls ragged, Zeke, and that wa
s totally unnecessary. They’re going to drop in their tracks. Now: where is your blasted sister? If she’s hiding somewhere outside, she’d better come back in again. The winds’ll pick up any moment.”

  It was happening even as he spoke. A sound of tidal fury, only made of surging air and roiling rain, not seawater.

  Dinah didn’t want Gage to be frightened for her, but she kept hidden a while longer, just in case the deputies were watching through the window. Finally, though, her leg started falling asleep. She had to move and rustle. In an instant her face was raked by the beam from the flashlight. Gage, his face stony, jerked his thumb at her: Get outta there, you.

  “Well, that’s that.” Dinah efficiently shifted attention to her brother. “All I can say is, good one, Zeke. You almost got us busted.”

  “I got us the birthday cake,” said Zeke.

  “And I got us out of the emergency shelter,” said Dinah. “So we’re even.”

  “You kids are nuts,” said Gage. Relieved to have them united again, his voice grew harsher. “Horsing around this late. Scaring me half to death, Zeke! If you were my kid I’d wallop you something good.”

  “I’m not,” said Zeke. “And I got the cake, didn’t I?”

  They glared at each other. Gage clenched and unclenched his fist. He breathed several times, then continued in a steadier tone. “You got the cake. Give you that much. Now it’s the witching hour already, the darkest bit before dawn. Are you two finally ready to settle down and get some real sleep?”

  “Are you kidding?” said Dinah. “I’m wider awake than ever. This is starting to be a test, isn’t it? Like an Outward Bound kind of thing. Can we stay awake all night long? This has got to be the darkest night, doesn’t it? — They’re working on the transformer, they said; surely by tomorrow things will get back to normal?”

  “Tomorrow,” said Gage. He lay flat on his back and squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow . . . O brave new world, That has such people in’t! Though I conflate, to make a point. Well, we’ll see. To quote another genius, ‘Tomorrow is another day.’”