“Your girlfriend wants you,” Lucas said, laughing. He slapped Manuel on the back.
Manuel faked a smile, but he didn’t look at Margie, not this time. He had tried being nice. He had tried waving at her and saying ‘hi’ but that seemed to just make is worse.
“Man-You-El,” Margie cried louder.
Manuel kept walking with his eyes fixed ahead, pretending not to hear.
“Margie,” he heard a special ed teacher say, “Stop yelling. It’s not polite. And you are out of line.”
“I’m coming to the game today,” she yelled. “I’m coming. Mom said.”
Manuel groaned. He hoped that in the cafeteria Margie would be seated facing away from him…a long way away from him.
“Hey,” Lucas said, “Your girlfriend’s coming to our game. She’s going to be shouting ‘Man-You-El’ for 60 minutes straight I bet.” He laughed again. He knew that was not the way to pronounce Manuel’s name, and he knew that it bothered him. Lucas was a great student and the best forward on the soccer team, and they were around each other a lot, but somehow Manuel could never think of Lucas as a friend. Most of the time Lucas was friendly enough, but whenever he got the chance he teased Manuel without mercy.
“Do you hear me Man-You-El?” Margie screamed. Manuel detected desperation in her voice.
Lucas laughed again. Manuel could see him looking over his shoulder. “She’s coming for you. You better run.”
Manuel held his pace, but he could hear the sound of running tennis shoes on the green and white tiled floor. Why was this happening? What did he ever do to deserve this?
And it came to him that the answer was that he had been nice. He had smiled at Margie and he had waved at her and he’d been nice, and it had encouraged her and now, apparently, she had a crush on him.
“Stop it,” the special ed teacher said, her voice heavy with effort after running Margie down. “You are being a bad girl Margie and you’re going to be in bad…stop! Bad trouble, Margie.”
Manuel heard the sound of a struggle behind him, and then he noticed that it was the only sound. In this congested hallway the girls weren’t gossiping, the boys weren’t bragging, the lockers were not being opened or closed. He looked around and saw that everyone was looking between him and...Manuel looked back over his shoulder to see the other thing. It was Margie, her heavy-set frame dragging the thin teacher behind her. Mr. Jordan, the Vice Principal, was running down the hallway to help.
Manuel stopped, not knowing what to do. Maybe if he just said something to her this would stop. Or maybe if he said something to her this would never stop.
“Give her a little kiss,” Lucas suggested. “That should make her happy.”
Manuel turned abruptly and hurried down the hallway. This wasn’t his problem, and it wasn’t his fault.
Chapter 6 — Beyond Incredible
Mr. Long returned home from his three-week trip to Ireland a day early. Lizzie and her mom helped him wheel his luggage in. Once inside, he kneeled, snapped a suitcase open, and pulled out his gifts. He gave Lori a little drum-like thing he called a bodhran, his wife a wool scarf, and Lizzie a silver necklace with a cross. She put it around her neck and turned for him to fasten the clasp.
Lori crawled into his lap when he sat down. Lizzie sat cross-legged on the couch with her mother. Lori took after their mother: blue eyes, blonde hair with long graceful curls, and a perfect ski slope nose. Lizzie took after their dad: brown eyes, brown hair, freckles, and what her mother called a 'prominent Roman nose.' She supposed this was a nice way of saying it was rather large.
Lifting the lever on the side of his chair, her dad brought the footrest up and stretched his gray-socked feet out. His styling gel had begun to lose the battle against his curly hair, his eyes were bloodshot, and his eyelids drooped low. He sighed and frowned with a weary expression.
“Jet lag,” he said. Maybe...but Lizzie guessed there was something more. He hadn't gone on a business trip since Grandpa Long died; they had always worked together. It made her sad to think about, but she wasn't about to show it. 'Tough it out,' her dad always said, and tough it out he always did. Even now he tried to be upbeat as he told them about his trip. And when they told about what he'd missed at home, they only told him the good stuff.
Lizzie was glad her dad was home, but she was a little worried too. She’d thought she would have time to return the medallion with the ruby eyes back to where it belonged, and if her dad found it missing she thought she might get the belt.
The words Deus Vult turned out not to be much of a clue. It just meant God Wills It and it was something the crusaders shouted back in the Middle Ages.
The only thing she could think of was to wait until everyone went to sleep and then sneak into the office and return it then.
Tomorrow summer break would be over and that meant returning to a more regular schedule. So her mom insisted that they go to bed at nine. It seemed so early, and Lizzie sat in bed reading a book about a boy magician and thinking it strange to think that maybe it wasn’t a made up story but real, just like gnomes weren’t made up but real.
With a start Lizzie woke, the book she had been reading lay face down next to her pillow, the pages bent underneath it. Sunlight came in through the window. Dang, she thought, realizing she’d missed her chance to return the medallion. She’d have to try to stay up late again tonight. Unless her dad discovered the pendant missing. But probably he wouldn’t, unless he actually opened the box up and looked inside.
Even though it was home school, Mrs. Long insisted that they dress for it just as if they were going to regular school—pajamas and mussed up hair not permissible. Lizzie put on her jeans, a knit blouse, and tennis shoes. She recently had her ears pierced so she wore a pair of earrings, shiny but not dangly. Her mom had given her a surprised look when she'd asked to have her ears pierced, but although she could whip just about any boy she knew, she didn't want to be mistaken for one.
Throughout the day her mind wandered from her schoolwork, both to the pendant in her nightstand and the gnome and his question. In the morning, during “The Basic Four,” Math, English, Science and History, her mom caught her daydreaming three times. After lunch she worked through only half of her French worksheet (they alternated studying French, Spanish, and Italian weekly). “Honestly,” her mother said, shaking her head, “I understand it might be hard to get back into the swing of things, but I know you can do better than this.”
After school Mrs. Long took Lizzie to Tai Kwon Do and Lori to ballet. The girls were required to have an extracurricular physical activity scheduled each weekday; her dad said it would make them 'well-rounded.' So, for Lizzie, if it wasn't Tai Kwon Do, it was archery, soccer or cross-country running.
They didn't do anything in Tai Kwon Do class but exercise and practice forms. No sparing. No board breaking. Nothing that could get her mind off the necklace and the trouble she'd be in if her father noticed it missing.
But if he was upset, he certainly didn't look it when they returned home. They found him sitting in the living room talking with a priest. When Mr. Long saw his girls he smiled.
The priest stood up, his black robe ballooning out around his plump middle. His stark white hair seemed almost bright against his brown skin. Smiling politely at the girls he said, “Ah...bonitas niñas.”
Lizzie knew this meant 'pretty little girls' in Spanish, so she answered, “Gracias.”
Lori mimicked her big sister. “Gracias.”
“Cardinal Lopez, these are my daughters Lizzie and Lori. And this beautiful woman,” Mr. Long said, sweeping an arm toward his wife, “is my wife, Wendy.”
“A pleasure,” the Cardinal said with a nod of the head.
“The pleasure is all mine, I am sure.”
“He is our new...” Lizzie’s dad hesitated, glanced at Lizzie, and continued weakly, “...our new Cardinal.” Lizzie's dad coughed into his hand before continuing. “I asked the Cardinal if he could join us for dinner.” Making a lon
g face the Cardinal couldn't see, he silently mouthed the word “sorry” to his wife.
Mrs. Long forced a smile. “Delightful,” she said. “Girls, run upstairs and change your clothes, then come back down and help me with dinner.”
After they had finished eating, Lizzie cleared her throat and interrupted the adults who were talking politics and drinking wine. “May we please be excused?”
Mrs. Long nodded, and the girls left the table in a dignified manner. But as soon as they were out of the dining room, they started to run and tore up the stairs. When they reached the door to their playroom, Lori smiled very sweetly and asked, “Want to play Barbies?”
“No,” Lizzie said without thinking, but then she had an idea. “Not yet, I mean. I need to run back downstairs. Go ahead and I'll be back in a minute, okay?”
Lori smiled wide, showing three dark gaps where her baby teeth had come out. Lizzie never played Barbies with Lori anymore.
With Lori out of the way in the playroom, and the adults deep in conversation, Lizzie didn't have to wait until late at night to return the necklace. She grabbed the keys and the necklace from out of her nightstand, and in a flash she was downstairs and in her dad's office with the door closed behind her.
But there was something in the drawer that hadn't been there before. A spear. Part of a spear, at least. The wood shaft was broken just a few inches below the metal part. Where it was broken it wasn't splintery and sharp, but worn down smooth, so she guessed it had been broken for a very long time. The metal part was an elongated teardrop shape, dull gray and covered with brown rust spots. Altogether, it was about a foot and a half long.
The box the necklace belonged in was beneath the spear. Hurry, hurry, hurry, she thought, but when she picked up the spear, she stopped. It was the strangest thing. Everything looked different. Shadows lightened; colors brightened. As she looked at things they zoomed up to her, every little detail magnified. Looking across the room at the books, she could see creases where the binding had cracked, threads where the cover's fabric had unraveled, and the tiny print of the publisher.
Above her she heard a thud; startled, she looked up at the ceiling. In a moment she realized what had happened—Lori must have dropped something. Yet she continued staring at the ceiling. Something moved there. A spot of light. It didn't move a lot, but around the edges it shimmered, and two narrow bands of light moved back in forth on one side of it. Then it all moved at once, and she heard a quiet creak in the ceiling as Lori stood up. She watched the light move with Lori as she walked across the room. It followed her like a shadow. A Lori-sized shadow. With Lori-sized arms and legs. A shadow, but made of light instead of shade.
It's incredible, she thought. No, it's beyond incredible—it's impossible.
There were voices out in the hall. She could see the outline of two people through the wall. Judging from their size, it was her dad and the plump Cardinal. Although still not altogether believing her eyes, she had to trust her senses. Even if this were just a dream, she wasn't just going to sit there and let them catch her. She quietly shut the drawer and looked for a place to hide.
The closet, of course.
Chapter 7 — The Cardinal's Demand
A rattle of keys, the click of the deadbolt—good thing she had thought to lock the door behind her. On tiptoes she ran to hide. The doorknob jiggled as her dad unlocked it. The door cracked open just as she crammed herself into the closet.
The closet was so full that she barely fit, and of course it still didn't shut. She held onto the doorknob, keeping it as close to shut as she could manage. The weight of the hanging clothes pushed against her, and beneath her a mound of shoes made her footing uncertain. With a free hand she could have steadied herself by grabbing hold of some clothing, but one hand held the doorknob and the other held the spear.
The Cardinal and Mr. Long walked into the room, shutting the door behind them. Through the door Lizzie could see their outlines moving across the room, but as they reached the desk she could see them directly through the crack. Her dad stood behind the desk where she could see his face, and the Cardinal was on the other side with his back to her.
“Thank you for the blessing on our house,” Mr. Long said. “It had been awhile, and I feel the blessings grow less potent over time.”
“Yes..., but it may not be as great a consequence as it so happens,” the Cardinal said, speaking with deliberate precision. “This is not a social visit—I did not come here to introduce myself as the new head of the Council, nor did I come here just to bless your home. We have important business to discuss. Your trip to Ireland...we did not expect it.”
“It was on the schedule. The trip had been planned for months. We had worked very hard to get everything in place. To postpone and reschedule would have been a nightmare. Opportunities would have been lost.”
“There are things that would be worse to lose. Without a Second it is too risky to use the Spear.” The Cardinal pointed at Mr. Long, his old hand shaking slightly, and said, “You know the power it holds! What if it were again lost?”
Lizzie’s dad did not respond, but she imagined that he would be angry with the Cardinal, though she couldn’t quite understand the accusation.
The Cardinal sighed. “I am sorry Mr. Long, I did not come all the way from the Vatican to lecture you. No. But you must understand the position of the Church. Your family has served well, but we cannot allow you to put the Spear in jeopardy. The Roman Curia Congregation for Combat with Evil Powers has decided that the Spear must be given to a new bearer. There is a family in France, heirs of Saint Longinus also—your distant cousins I suppose—a father with three sons. We have begun preparing them. I shall give the Spear to them.”
Lizzie's dad turned red in the face and shook his head. “You are not taking the Spear from this family.”
The Cardinal turned, steepled his fingers, and paced slowly. “I understand this is difficult, Mr. Long. We appreciate your attachment to the artifact. But the Spear is not safe if you do not have a Second.”
“I have a Second. My daughter. Lizzie.”
Lizzie couldn't believe her ears. He wanted her to be his Second, and whatever that was, it sounded serious. Like she wasn't just a kid but someone real important. And somehow it had something to do with this spear she held.
Overwhelmed by what she was hearing, she lost focus on her situation. She shifted her weight, the shoes beneath her moved, and she lost her balance. The door swung open and she stumbled forward out of the closet. When she fell, the spear smacked the floor with a loud clang.
“Santa María, Madre de Dios,” Cardinal Lopez said, crossing himself.
“Lizzie?” Mr. Long came around the desk toward her.
“Yes'r.” She stood up before he got to her and handed him the Spear. “Sorry,” she said, staring at the floor.
“This is the Spear Bearer's Second?” the Cardinal scoffed. As he raised his voice, the clerical collar grew tight on his neck and his ample skin beaded up around it. “This one sneaking in the closet? This one who tries to break the Spear? This...this freckle-faced child...this girl?”
“We have been preparing her—”
With a wave of his hand, the Cardinal interrupted. “Ridiculo! You cannot prepare a girl to do this. It is not a job for a girl.”
“I would trust her,” Mr. Long said, putting a hand on Lizzie's shoulder, “more than most men I have met. I would trust her with my life.”
“It would seem so.” The Cardinal crossed his arms. “And yet, Mr. Long, a female cannot be your Second. It is against the law of the Church. Please do not be difficult. Give the Spear to me.”
Lizzie's dad walked to the Cardinal and the Cardinal held out his hand.
Mr. Long, however, lifted the Spear up and shook it. “My father passed this Spear to me and his father passed it to him. This is how it has been done for the last fifteen hundred years. And you think I'm just going to hand it over to you?”
Cardinal Lopez, looking smal
l and uncomfortable, took a step back. “Have it your way. But this is not the last of it. We shall have the Spear. You will see.” He turned so fast that his robe lifted and swirled around him and he hurried from the room.
Longinus, which was a puissant knight, was with other knights, by the commandment of Pilate, on the side of the cross of our Lord, and pierced the side of our Lord with a spear; and when he saw the miracles, how the sun lost his light, and great earthquaving of the earth was, when our Lord suffered death and passion in the tree of the cross, then believed he in Jesu Christ. Some say that when he smote our Lord with the spear in the side, the precious blood avaled by the shaft of the spear upon his hands, and of adventure with his hands he touched his eyes, and anon he that had been tofore blind saw anon clearly...
The GOLDEN LEGEND or LIVES of the SAINTS, Compiled by Jacobus de Voragine, Archbishop of Genoa, 1275
Chapter 8 — The Spear of Longinus
It was quiet in the office for what seemed to Lizzie a long time. Questions filled her mind, but mainly she wondered what her punishment would be.
When Mr. Long did finally speak, he was still red in the face from the argument with the Cardinal. “What, in heaven's name, were you doing in the closet?” Then louder and with more exasperation he added, “What were you doing with the Spear?”
So Lizzie, head bowed and voice quiet, told him about the keys she had found in her grandfather's coat and how she had snooped around his office. Without lifting her eyes, she pulled out the necklace and handed it to him.
“The Medallion of Longinus,” her father said. “It is a protective Talisman. It carries the blessing of Pope Innocent the First. The red rubies represent the eyes of Longinus. The Spear Bearer's Second usually carries it.”
There it was again, this Second the Cardinal had mentioned. She wanted to ask, but being in so much trouble she didn't dare say a word.
Mr. Long sighed and leaned up against his desk. “I need to explain to you about our family. I should have told you before now.
“The story begins at the Crucifixion of Christ. Longinus was one of the Roman soldiers there that day. He was almost blind, but he could see well enough that Jesus was in agony, and he had pity on Him. While the other soldiers planned to break Jesus' legs to prove he was dead, Longinus stabbed Him with a spear instead. It was an act of mercy that earned him sainthood. That is why there is a statue of him in Saint Peter's Basilica in the Vatican.” Her father held out the spear. “He used this spear. The Spear of Longinus.