Ruby looked from Otis to Daisy, waiting for one of them to assure him this was untrue, to tell him he was wrong, to explain that these things simply took time.
But nobody said a word.
twenty-one
RUBY HAD BEEN ASSIGNED LUNCH DUTY, and for once she didn’t mind missing out on the action. As the morning wore on, Simon had started to look increasingly miserable, and the pressure had grown almost unbearable. She was more than happy to escape.
When she returned to the grove with another brown bag, this one full of sandwiches and chips and cans of soda, the others were all sitting on the edge of the pier. They were each facing in a different direction, occupying all three sides of the dock, their feet hanging off the edge. But Ruby could see that they were talking even so, and when she was close enough to hear, she realized that the conversation was about the night Rupert London showed up.
“And then he just asked to see what you could do?” Otis was asking. He pivoted as Ruby approached, her sandals loud against the wooden slats of the pier.
“More like ordered him,” she said, dropping the bag. “He didn’t exactly say please.”
Simon gave her a pained look.
“Well, he didn’t,” Ruby said, sitting cross-legged as she began to unpack the picnic lunch. “I know you want to think you were buddies that night, but he was awful to you. And even worse to me.”
“Yeah,” Daisy said, swiveling around to grab a sandwich. “London’s not a huge fan of non–Storm Makers. And the fact that you actually know what’s going on with Simon must be driving him nuts.”
“So what happened next?” Otis asked, the lines on his face creasing. “What did you do?”
Simon shrugged. “I made it rain.”
Daisy and Otis exchanged a look. Ruby nodded, as if to confirm the story.
“So what was different then?” Otis asked. “Was there anything you did that night that you’re not doing now?”
Reaching for a bag of chips, Simon shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Otis turned to Ruby.
“Well, there was a lot of pressure,” she said. “He was sort of yelling at him. And it was scary to think what might happen if he didn’t make it rain.”
“So maybe we should just be shouting at him more,” Daisy said, making a face that was meant to be menacing, but which fell somewhat short due to the streak of peanut butter on her cheek. Simon laughed as Daisy winked at him. Ruby was smiling, too, but when she glanced over at Otis, he looked troubled.
They kept at it all afternoon, moving from the basics—rain and wind—to things that were more difficult—lightning and snow, funnel clouds and frost—until the light had shifted to the other side of the trees, the day slipping by without any results at all, and Simon finally sank to the ground and flung out his arms and groaned.
“This is useless,” he said. “Why don’t we just try again tomorrow?”
“Because tomorrow is already June nineteenth,” Otis said grimly. “We’re running out of time.”
“Till what?” Ruby asked.
“Till June twenty-first.”
“I know,” she said, gritting her teeth. “But what’s June twenty-first?”
Otis didn’t bother to answer. He seemed deep in thought, pacing the rough trail that led back into the fields with a look of indecision, until at last he raised an arm for them all to follow, and they began the long walk back up to the farmhouse together, the day’s lesson apparently over after all.
They cut through the wheat, which was soft and dry and nearly ready to be harvested, walking single file: first Otis, then Simon, then Ruby, and finally Daisy at the back. As if to mock them for their earlier efforts, there was still no breeze at all, the air heavy and still, and so Ruby could hear quite clearly as Simon asked the same question that had been on her mind for days.
“So, if London is so bad, who let him become Chairman in the first place?”
“Nobody let him,” Otis said gruffly. “He was chosen.”
These were the exact same words that Daisy had used when talking about her father earlier, and Ruby found herself straining forward to hear what else Otis had to say, nearly clipping Simon’s heels in the process. But the looming figure at the lead fell silent, plunging ahead through the crops without turning around.
“There’s a compass.” Daisy’s voice came from behind them, and Simon and Ruby both stopped, whirling around to listen. Otis paused, too, his face dark. “Not all Storm Makers are involved with the Society. Everyone has to follow certain rules, of course, but they don’t all have weather-related jobs. Some of them are doctors and lawyers and teachers.”
“And mechanics,” Ruby said softly.
Daisy smiled. “And mechanics,” she said. “But when it comes to being the Chairman, it doesn’t matter. You could work at headquarters in a position of power, or you could be a plumber from Oklahoma who happens to have a knack for defusing tornadoes. It could be anyone, and Storm Makers come from all over the country to see if they might be the one.”
“How would they know?” Simon asked.
“Because of the compass. It’s this enormous thing that’s hundreds of years old, and it’s kept in a room that’s normally closed off. But every four years, any Storm Maker who thinks they might possibly be the next Chairman—whether they make a pilgrimage to see the compass or already work in the halls of headquarters—is allowed to take a turn circling around it. For most people, the compass remains where it is: pointing north. But for the chosen person, the needle follows, spinning as they walk the circle.” She paused. “Four years ago, it spun for London.”
“And that’s it?” Ruby asked. “Even though he’s so terrible, everyone just listens to a stupid piece of equipment that’s probably broken?”
Otis turned his flinty gaze in her direction. “Nobody could have known what Rupert would be like once he took power,” he said. “And even if they had, it’s still a piece of our history. Part magic, part science. It’s the way things have worked for centuries.”
“Why four years?” Simon asked. “It’s not like he’s the president.”
“No,” Daisy said with a smile. “The president couldn’t make it snow.”
“Four seasons in a year, four years in a term,” Otis explained. “It’s been that way for a long time. London has actually been there a little bit longer, because of…”
Daisy met his gaze. “Because my dad died a few months before the end of his term,” she told them. “But it’s due to spin again very soon.”
Otis nodded. “Though I have a feeling Rupert isn’t quite ready to leave yet.”
“Why don’t they just kick him out, if he’s so terrible?” Simon asked.
Daisy smiled. “It’s not exactly a democracy. He holds a lot of power. Let’s just say he can be very…” It took her a moment to find the right word. “Persuasive. He threatens his followers with the Vacuum, promises to damage their home cities if they don’t do as they’re told. And even without all that, he’s still one of the most powerful Storm Makers we’ve ever seen. So even if he did step aside as Chairman, he’d still be dangerous. But with the whole Society at his disposal, with all his influence and power, it’s so much worse.”
Not far from them, a flock of crows startled, scattering into the pearly sky in a burst of noise and feathers.
“So where does Simon come into this?” Ruby asked, moving around her brother so that she was now peering up at Otis. “If Storm Makers get more powerful as they get older, then what could he possibly do to help now? I mean, you saw him out there.” She turned to her brother. “No offense, Simon. But you’re a pretty terrible Storm Maker at the moment.”
He grinned sheepishly. “Can’t argue with that.”
Ruby turned back to Otis. “And if London is so bad, then why don’t you just stop him yourself?”
Even from a few feet away, Ruby could sense Otis tensing up. He pulled his crumpled hat from his pocket and shoved it on his head, blinking a few ti
mes. Finally, he met her eyes.
“Because,” he said, turning around again, “I’m not enough.”
They all stood there as he began to walk away, until Daisy gave Ruby and Simon each a little nudge, and they trotted to close the distance between them. Falling back into single file, nobody seemed quite sure what to say, and they continued on in silence until the farmhouse grew near and Otis paused again. There was something thoughtful in his expression when he turned to them, and something sorrowful.
“To tell you the truth, I’m less worried about the change in power right now,” he said. “At this very minute, London is preparing for his next strike, and it’s my responsibility to figure out a way to stop him.” He looked at Simon and Ruby. “And it’s your responsibility to trust that I’ll find a way to do that.”
“But how can I help fight if I can’t even make it rain?” Simon asked.
“There’s not going to be a fight,” Otis said, the lines around his mouth deepening again. “Just think for one moment about what that would mean.”
Daisy put a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “Thunder and lightning. Hailstorms and hurricanes.”
“All it would take is one tornado ricocheting off a massive storm front to cause more destruction than London could ever dream of doing on his own,” Otis said. “It would be catastrophic. Which is just what he wants.”
Ruby lifted her eyes to meet his. “So how are we gonna beat him?”
“That,” Otis said with a hint of a smile, “is something I’m still working on. But in the meantime, we practice. And we keep our eyes open. Because I have no doubt that they’re out there, keeping an eye on us, too.” As he spoke, he tilted his head to the west, and sure enough, when they shifted their gazes out across the endless fields, there was the faintest smudge of black, a shadowy figure against the darkening line of the horizon. Ruby let out a little noise of surprise and took a step closer to Simon, who stared at Otis.
“They’re watching us?” he asked, his voice sounding very small.
“Of course,” Daisy said. “You didn’t think London would head back to Chicago without keeping tabs on his newest star, did you?”
“I thought…” Simon said, then trailed off. “I don’t know.”
“So that means they know you’re here,” Ruby said, and Daisy nodded. “Which means they know what you’re planning?”
“That would be tough,” Otis said, grinning for the first time in what felt like hours. “Since I don’t even know that myself.” When he saw Ruby’s stricken look, he reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder, the way he had that day in the hospital, a whole lifetime ago. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’m working on it.”
After dinner that night, Ruby walked out to the barn with Dad. Ever since the day of the storm, she hadn’t been spending nearly as much time with him, and he was eager to show her the progress he’d made on the invention. But her mind was still back in the cornfield, her head swimming with Otis’s words.
I’m not enough, he’d said. And what if that was true?
She’d waited for him to come back, to instruct them, to save them, to tell them what to do. But even with all they’d learned in the past few days, there were still so many questions. If they weren’t preparing for a fight with London, then what? And if Simon wasn’t the key to some great battle plan, then why was everyone so interested in him?
As she and Dad crossed the gravel drive, the dogs streaked ahead of them, twin shadows in the gathering darkness. The air throbbed with the sound of crickets, and the sky above the fields was dimming.
Dad followed Ruby’s eyes out across the horizon. “Soon we’ll be going in the opposite direction,” he said, and when she looked at him blankly, he smiled. “Longest day of the year coming up,” he explained. “After that, it’ll start getting dark earlier again.”
“Right, I forgot.”
“Yup,” Dad said. “June twenty-first.”
Ruby stopped abruptly, her mouth falling open, but Dad didn’t notice. He was still making his way toward the barn, his voice trailing behind him.
“Summer solstice,” he was saying to no one in particular. “Longest day of the year.”
twenty-two
LATER, RUBY PAUSED while brushing her teeth, her head cocked to one side. She reached out with her left foot to kick open the bathroom door, listening for the sound of Simon’s voice, which was drifting up the stairs from the foyer.
“Yeah, tomorrow at Ben’s house,” he was saying. “And we’ll probably sleep over there, too.”
Toothbrush still in hand, Ruby tiptoed across the hallway and peered over the banister. There was an edge to Simon’s voice that she found suspicious, and this was the first she knew of any plans with his friend Ben. The last she’d heard, they were supposed to practice with Otis and Daisy again tomorrow.
“It’s fine with me,” Dad said. He was sitting on the bottom step, pulling off his work boots. Mom was leaning against the front door, nodding at Simon.
“As long as it’s okay with Ben’s mom,” she said.
Ruby leaned farther over the railing, her blond hair falling across her face. “As long as what’s okay?” she asked, her mouth still full of toothpaste. All three of them looked up at her.
“Simon’s spending the day with some friends tomorrow,” Dad said.
“And probably the night, too,” Simon added a bit too quickly.
Ruby raised her eyebrows at him, but he looked away. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and frowned.
“So you get to hang with me, you lucky duck,” Dad said, laughing at the expression on Ruby’s face. “Maybe we’ll head into town, run some errands, see if Daisy’s back yet.”
Ruby ignored this, afraid to give anything away. “It’s just that I was planning to go with Simon, too,” she said, turning to her brother. “Didn’t you tell them?”
Simon’s face clouded over. “No,” he said, his voice strained. “I thought we’d agreed you weren’t gonna come. Since it’s all guys and it’s not really your kind of thing, anyway.”
Ruby had no clue what he was talking about, but his gaze was burning a hole through her for reasons she couldn’t begin to understand, and something was telling her to press on. Below her, Mom and Dad were clearly waiting for an answer as to why she so desperately wanted to hang out with her brother and his friends, something she usually avoided. Her mind raced to come up with a reason, to figure out what Simon was planning, but nothing came. A dribble of toothpaste fell off her brush and onto the carpet beside her bare foot. She tucked her hair behind her ears and cleared her throat.
“Allison and Erika are gonna be there, too,” she said, ignoring Simon’s frantic look. “Remember?”
“Ben’s sisters are into baseball?” Mom asked, sounding dubious.
“You’re into baseball?” Dad said, even more skeptical.
“Of course I am,” Ruby said with a conviction she didn’t quite feel.
“Okay,” Mom said. “If you’d rather play baseball than hang around here, it’s fine with me. A little strange, but fine. As long as it’s okay with your brother.”
Ruby turned to look down at Simon, but all she could see was the top of his head. They all waited for him to respond, the silence filling the foyer. In the next room, one of the dogs barked twice, then fell quiet again.
“Fine,” Simon said eventually, without lifting his head, and Ruby had the feeling he was agreeing to more than just her tagging along, that something far more important than baseball had been settled here. “Ruby’s coming, too.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dad said, clapping his hands on his knees and then rising to his feet. “But that’s tomorrow. For now, lights-out.”
“How about ten more minutes?” Ruby asked, eager to talk to Simon alone.
“How about two?” Dad said, and she grinned.
“I’ll take it.”
She hurried back to the bathroom to rinse off her toothbrush then jammed it into the cup holder at the
edge of the sink. By the time she emerged again, Simon had already slipped into his bedroom and shut the door. Ruby knocked a few times, leaning against the wooden frame, but there was no answer, so she gave up and headed back to her own room. But when she heard his door creak open nearly an hour later, long after lights-out, she threw back her covers, tiptoeing out of bed and into the hallway.
Simon groaned when he saw her, looking like someone caught committing some sort of crime. Even from upstairs, they could hear Mom and Dad talking quietly in the kitchen, so he silently motioned for Ruby to follow him into the bathroom. Once inside, she hoisted herself up onto the counter, her legs dangling against the cabinets, and he pressed the door shut and then turned to face her.
“So I’m guessing you’re not actually playing baseball at Ben’s tomorrow,” she said, and he nodded, his face solemn. Ruby curled her fingers around the edge of the counter; she suspected she already knew the answer to her next question, but she felt she had to ask it anyway: “So where are we going instead?”
“Chicago,” Simon said, slumping back against the door.
Ruby nodded. So he hadn’t forgotten. “I guess we’re probably not going to see the sights.”
“No,” he said with the faintest hint of a smile. “Not quite.”
“What if Mom and Dad find out?”
Simon rolled his eyes. “Never gonna happen,” he said, and Ruby had to admit he was probably right. Their parents had been so distracted by their own separate projects lately, not to mention the looming money troubles that were threatening the farm, that they barely noticed where the twins were these days. “We’ll say we’re working at the garage tomorrow, and getting picked up right from there.”
“But they think Daisy’s still gone.”
He grinned. “Not after we fake a phone call from her in the morning.”