The Storm Makers Page 4

  Otis smiled at her encouragingly. “Not quite yet,” he said. “And it’s really more a matter of stabilizing the weather. Our job is to protect people from the elements: storms and weather systems and natural disasters. But yes. Simon will be able to do all that one day, too.”

  “Then why are you telling me this?” she asked. “Why not him?”

  He stood up again, folding and unfolding the poor battered hat in his hands. “You have to understand that Simon’s a bit… delicate… at the moment.”

  “Delicate how?” she asked, glancing back at the hospital building.

  “The youngest Storm Makers we’ve ever seen have all been of age—at least twenty-one, and usually more like twenty-four or twenty-five. Simon’s case is completely unprecedented. Usually when people start to flare up, they’re old enough to control themselves. At least once they learn how. But someone as young as Simon could be very dangerous.” Otis began to walk back and forth in front of the bench. “You saw what happened today. He gets a fever and six power lines go down in the next town over. A man was almost killed when a tree fell on his car.”

  Ruby’s eyes were wide. “Simon did all that?”

  “It wasn’t his fault. Our job isn’t really to cause weather, despite our name; it’s more to help control it, to keep a balance. But until you learn to do that, accidents can happen. So we need someone he trusts, someone who understands him, to help him through this.”

  Ruby shifted uncomfortably; she and Simon weren’t as close as they used to be. “Why not tell our parents?”

  “This is really secret stuff. Nobody’s supposed to know. Not even you. Besides, I’ve never dealt with a minor before. I’m trying not to make this too complicated. You have to understand, Simon could be very, very powerful.”

  “He’s just a kid,” Ruby said again, still not quite convinced.

  “Storm Makers get stronger as they get older. Starting this young could mean he’ll be one of the best we’ve ever seen, at least once he learns to control himself. Simon has very real potential, which a lot of people will be very interested in.”

  “Like other Storm Chasers?”

  “Storm Makers,” he said. “And yes.”

  Ruby looked down at her hands. “But why Simon?”

  Otis stopped pacing and stooped down in front of her. “You mean, why not you?” he asked gently, and she nodded, her cheeks burning. She knew there were far more important things to be worrying about at the moment, but she still couldn’t help feeling like the last one picked in gym class.

  “There’s no way of knowing,” Otis said, patting her shoulder a bit awkwardly. “We’ve rarely had two in a family before, so it doesn’t seem to be genetic. And we’ve had all sorts of different people—plumbers and accountants and even a duke once. There doesn’t seem to be much logic to it.”

  Ruby nodded, not really sure what to say. She felt like her mind was being pulled in too many directions, stretched far beyond what it was used to.

  “I’m afraid I have no good answer for why Simon can do this, and I have no idea why it’s started while he’s so young. But none of that’s important at the moment. All that matters right now is that Simon needs you.”

  “Why would he need me?” Ruby couldn’t help asking, the words coming out thickly. She blinked hard to keep from crying, not out of jealousy or envy or even fear—though it was all those things, too—but because she could feel the world changing fast around her, like all she’d known to be true was suddenly slipping away.

  But Otis didn’t answer. Instead, he arranged his hat on top of his head and then stood for a moment, peering out at the sky to the west, which had turned a brilliant shade of orange. The evening was cool now, the heat of the morning gone with the storm.

  “What happens when—” Ruby began, but Otis held up a hand, cutting her off.

  “There’ll be time for more questions later,” he said, his eyes still trained on the sky. “But for now, we need to go see your brother.”

  “How come?”

  “Because,” Otis said, turning back toward the hospital, “I have a feeling I’m not the only one looking for him.”

  six

  THE MOMENT THEY STEPPED into the hospital, Ruby’s knees seemed to lock. She took a deep breath and tried to calm whatever it was that was fluttering inside her. Otis paused when he realized she was no longer following him, and though she could detect a hint of impatience in the expression on his lined face, he stood very still and waited until she’d gathered herself enough to move forward again.

  They’d been gone only ten minutes, fifteen at most, but the world felt irrevocably different to Ruby now. It wasn’t so much like standing on the edge of a cliff as it was like pausing before a locked door; there was no way of knowing what might be on the other side.

  Together, they wound past the vending machines and the restrooms, and suddenly they were at the door to Simon’s room. Otis blinked a few times, as if surprised to find himself there so soon, and Ruby cleared her throat.

  “He’ll be okay, right?” she asked, her voice very small.

  Otis nodded. “He will,” he said, and then he said it again: “Of course he will.”

  This, she realized, was what she had needed to hear, and whether or not it was true didn’t matter as much as believing that it could be. She straightened her shoulders.

  “Ready?” Otis asked, and Ruby nodded, trying to seem more certain than she felt. Because if everything he said turned out to be true, then she had no idea what to expect. Would Simon look different? Would he be different? Would he be as scared as she was? Would he tell her, even if he was?

  Ruby was the first to go in, just in case anyone else was already there, doctors or nurses, Mom or Dad. She took a deep breath as she nudged open the door, but when she peered around the corner, there was only Simon, asleep on the hospital bed and looking pale and drawn and about as small as she’d ever seen him. Otis stepped in behind her, and there was a long silence in the room as they stood frozen like that, only the beeping and whirring of the monitors to fill the space.

  Ruby waited for Otis to say something, to wake Simon up and explain to him about what he was, what he might be—about the Storm Makers and the rules of weather and the fallen trees in the next town over—but the quiet only lengthened.

  She glanced over at him, wondering what was wrong, but he simply remained there, staring at Simon as if he’d never seen a boy before.

  It took her a moment to realize that the look on his face was awe.

  Otis was looking at her brother with sheer amazement, and of all the strange and incredible things that had happened that day, this struck Ruby as the oddest of all.

  After a moment, he gave his head a little shake and shifted his gaze back to Ruby. “Would you mind going back out to the waiting room?” he asked, his voice low. There was something solemn about him now; all the briskness of earlier had given way to something more reverential. “Simon and I are going to need some time to talk, so maybe you could help keep your parents occupied for a little while.”

  Ruby swallowed hard, trying not to look as stricken as she felt at being asked to leave. She wanted to stay and see Simon’s face when Otis told him, to hear more about what it meant to be a Storm Maker. The thought of sitting in the waiting room with Mom and Dad while Simon learned all the secrets of the world was almost too much to bear.

  “But can’t I—”

  Otis didn’t even shake his head. He didn’t have to. All he did was look at her, his gray eyes searching, and she could sense an urgency that hadn’t been there before. She pressed her lips together, hesitating, and then nodded.

  He reached into his back pocket and produced the half-eaten packet of Milk Duds. “If they ask where you’ve been, tell them you got lost on your way back.”

  Ruby took the crumpled box, glancing once more at her sleeping brother. She wondered how he’d take the news. She wondered if Otis would tell him things only other Storm Makers could know. She wonder
ed how it was possible to be twins, yet so unequal in every way.

  “Hey, Ruby?” Otis called softly, just as she was about to turn and leave. “It’s only the beginning, this.” His voice was weary, and something about it made her throat go tight. “There’ll be other battles, and we’ll need you for those.”

  And then, before she had a chance to ask what he meant, he pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket and in one practiced motion tossed it her way. The object went pinwheeling through the air, small and shiny as a coin, and when she caught it, Ruby could feel the cool weight of the metal in her hand.

  At first glance she thought it was a pocket watch, but when she looked closer, she saw that it was actually a kind of barometer, the edges ringed with words: fair, stormy, cloudy, windy, rainy, unstable, calm, very dry. On the bottom, quite ominously, it said warning, and above that, at the very top, where the twelve would be on a clock, was the word change.

  “Hang on to that for me, okay?”

  Ruby nodded. “And let you know if there’s a warning?”

  Otis smiled. “Let me know if there’s a change.”

  With that, he turned back to Simon. Ruby stared at the barometer for another moment, running her thumb over the smooth back, where an O had been etched into the metal, the same one that she’d found on the silver button. Then she slipped it into her pocket and stepped out into the hallway.

  All alone now, she traced a path back toward the waiting room where she’d left Dad earlier, in the company of a dozen or so other people, each of them looking as miserable and exhausted as the next, staring unseeingly at month-old magazines.

  But this time she stopped short at the doorway, ducking back so that she was half-hidden by the waxy leaves of a fake plant. Dad was in exactly the same spot, and Mom had joined him. But now, sitting beside them, was a handsome man in a pin-striped suit who didn’t look a bit like a doctor. He looked younger than Otis, but had the same easy confidence, like he was in possession of something more than everyone else around him. He had one leg crossed over the other, and something about the way he was speaking to her parents—with such familiarity that they may as well have been old childhood friends—made Ruby bristle.

  “Oh,” Mom said, looking up. “Here’s our other one now.”

  Ruby stepped out from behind the plant, trying not to look sheepish. As she did, the man’s eyes settled on her. They were so dark that it was almost like they weren’t a color at all.

  “Your parents were just telling me about your brother,” he said, knitting his hands together. “I’m sorry to hear he’s under the weather.”

  Ruby had been staring at the floor, but her eyes snapped up at his choice of words.

  “He’s doing much better,” Dad was saying. “It’s just a bad viral infection, so they’re getting some fluids into him, and we should be able to get out of here soon.”

  “Where have you been?” Mom asked, but when Ruby opened her mouth to answer, no words came out. She was still staring at the man, who cocked his head to one side, his eyes giving nothing away.

  “Getting food,” she said, holding up the box of Milk Duds. “But I forgot something.”

  “Yeah, you forgot mine,” Dad joked.

  “Right,” Ruby mumbled, backing toward the door. “Be right back.”

  Once clear of the waiting room, she broke into a run, weaving past nurses and doctors, narrowly missing a gurney as it was pushed out of an elevator. By the time she made it back to Simon’s room she was breathing hard, and when she pushed open the door, she was surprised to find it as silent and still as when she’d left.

  Simon was still fast asleep and snoring lightly, one of his hands balled at his side, the other laid flat against his stomach. And beside him, Otis was sitting on a chair pulled up near the bed, his hat in his hands, his head bowed. He held a small blue piece of paper between two fingers and was twisting it absently.

  “You didn’t wake him?” Ruby whispered, and without looking at her, he shook his head.

  “Everything’s going to be different for him,” he said, his voice breaking just slightly. “Everything.” He leaned forward in the chair. “I thought I’d let him rest for a few more minutes.”

  Ruby took a couple of steps deeper into the room. “He’s going to be fine,” she said quietly. “We get to take him home tonight. But Otis…”

  He swiveled to look at her, his face expectant.

  “It’s just that out in the waiting room,” Ruby began, suddenly less sure of herself, “my parents were talking to this guy….”

  She waited for Otis to ask what he looked like, what he’d said to her, what he’d been doing there. Instead, his shoulders sagged, and he rubbed his eyes.

  “You remember the field where we met?” he asked after a moment.

  Ruby nodded.

  “Good,” he said, rising to his feet. He put his hat on and took a long look at Simon, then handed Ruby the slip of paper.

  “Wait,” she said, stepping between him and the door. “Where are you going?”

  But once again, there was no response. He simply rested a hand on her shoulder, just for a moment, and then he was moving past her and out the door, and there was nothing for Ruby to do but watch as he walked back down the long hallway.

  Her mouth was dry as she stood there, unsure of what to do. She took a step forward, as if to follow him, to make sure everything was okay, but then she glanced back at Simon, and something about his face—so solemn in sleep—made her want to stay. She turned to the door again and was still paused there, paralyzed with indecision, when something hit her in the back of the head, then went skidding across the floor. Ruby stooped to pick up the pen before turning around.

  “Hi,” Simon said with a grin, and despite the tube in his arm, despite the hospital gown and the ashen color of his face, Ruby couldn’t resist tossing the pen right back at him. It went wide, bouncing off the table, and she laughed, rushing over to the bed.

  “Hi yourself,” she said, unable to disguise her relief. “You look terrible.”

  “I feel better,” he said.

  Ruby had forgotten about the blue slip of paper still clutched in her hand, but Simon noticed it immediately and reached out to grab it before she could move away.

  “Don’t,” she said quickly, trying to snatch it back. But he held it high in the air with one hand, using the other to keep her away. Ruby glanced at the door, hoping that Otis might walk in, but instead it was their parents who appeared, both of them incredulous at the scene before them: Simon shrinking back against his pillow, Ruby trying to pry his fist open one finger at a time.

  “Ruby, let him rest,” Mom said, hurrying over to the bed.

  “They’ve only just said he could go,” Dad said with a laugh. “If you break his wrist, we’ll be here all night.”

  Ruby slid off the bed, shooting Simon a look, but Mom already had him buried in a hug, running a hand through his messy blond hair. A moment later, the doctor walked in with his chart, and a nurse arrived to unhook Simon’s IV. There were instructions given and prescriptions written, and all the while, Ruby kept her eyes on the door, waiting and watching and hoping for it to open one more time.

  When at last it was time to leave, after Simon had gotten dressed and Mom and Dad had signed all the insurance forms, they all walked out together. Ruby hung back, searching the length of every corridor, wondering if Otis would appear. But he didn’t, and she wasn’t sure whether to be worried or relieved.

  Simon dropped back to join her, unfolding the blue paper in his palm. Once he read it, he looked over with a face like a question mark.

  “What?” Ruby asked, trying to see what it said.

  Simon frowned. “Meet who?”

  She took the paper from his hand and read the words, which were scrawled in tiny letters across the page.

  Ruby looked up at him, unsure how to answer. Her conversation with Otis felt like something she’d imagined, like maybe he’d never really been there at all
. But there it was on the page: instructions for whatever it was that would come next. A meeting in an empty field. A lesson about the weather. A warning for her brother.

  “Meet who?” Simon asked again, but when Ruby opened her mouth to explain, she realized she had no idea where to even begin. After a moment, she laughed.

  “The Wizard of Oz,” she said, and Simon gave her a look like maybe she was the one with the fever before skipping off ahead of her again.

  Ruby was just about to crumple the piece of paper when she noticed that something else was written on the back, and her heart beat fast as she read the words.

  She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to find out what that meant.

  seven

  ON THE WAY HOME, Simon fell asleep in the car, so when they pulled into their drive—the broad beam of the headlights sweeping across the darkened fields—Ruby nudged him gently.

  “We’re home,” she said, and he blinked a few times, still groggy from his medication. He looked at her sleepily, his eyes not quite focused, and she had a sudden urge to tell him everything. But there would be time later.

  Once Dad had parked the truck out front, he came around to Simon’s side and opened the door, ready to carry him in. But Simon scowled and hopped out by himself, fighting back a yawn.

  “I’m fine,” he said, as Mom eyed him with concern. He looked paler than ever in the moonlight. “Really.”

  They trooped silently inside, greeted by the dogs, the two of them running mad circles around Dad and avoiding Simon, who headed upstairs to put his pajamas on. Ruby had just wandered into the kitchen when she heard the front door open and then close again, and the sounds of Mom and Dad stepping out onto the porch, their footsteps hollow on the wooden slats.

  She crept over to the window, looking out at the two dark forms. They were standing very close to each other, both facing out across the fields. Through the screen she could hear them speaking, quiet murmurings of thanks that Simon was okay. There was a long silence, and then Mom pulled in a breath.