The Secret Hour

“That’s what Dess told me.”

“She told you about me?”

“Yeah, back when Rex first spotted you. And this morning she gave me your address. What, did you think I used superpowers to find you?”

“The phone book, actually.”

He smiled. “You’re not in information yet. I checked. But Melissa got the psychic 411 on you last night, so Dess called me.”

“Dess gave you my address, but she didn’t tell me about you?”

“She would have, but not in front of Rex. He and I have this… personality conflict. Namely, I think he should get a new one. But Dess prefers to stay out of it.”

“Oh.” Jessica leaned back against the wall. “This gets more complicated every minute.”

“Yeah, it’s awful that you ran into a darkling so soon,” Jonathan said. “But last night was weird all over town. It was probably just darkling New Year’s Eve or something. Was that your first time out?”

She started to nod, then shook her head. She’d almost forgotten the first night. With Rex and Dess cramming her head with midnighter lore and history all day, she’d only thought about the dangers of the blue time, not the splendor of the frozen storm.

“It must be nice,” she said quietly, “being happy to be a midnighter.”

“Quit calling me that,” he softly chided. “I’m not a ‘midnighter.’ That’s Rex’s word.”

Jessica frowned. “It seems pretty appropriate to me. Kind of makes the point and sounds better than ‘twelve o’clocker.’ ”

“I guess it does,” Jonathan admitted with a smile. “And I do like the word midnight. Since I moved to Bixby, anyway.”

Jessica took a breath and dared to look past him to the blue-lit street. Even before the secret hour had come, it had been a beautiful night, gusty and dramatic. She could see falling autumn leaves trailing from the giant oak trees like flocks of dark and frozen birds. Their brilliant reds and yellows had turned black in the blue light.

She remembered the raindrops that first night, how her fingertips had released them from midnight’s hold. Would the leaves also fall at her touch? She wanted to run through them, knocking handfuls out of the air. Back in Chicago she had never been able to resist snapping off icicles, breaking winter’s spell.

But among the black leaves Jessica could still imagine the darkling that had attacked her. Its cruel form might be lurking anywhere among the frozen shapes outside. She shuddered and turned away from the window.

Her bedroom still seemed alien. It looked wan in the blue light, like a fading memory. Motionless dust hung in the air.

“Midnight is beautiful,” she said. “But cold, too.”

Jonathan frowned. “It never feels cold to me. Or hot, either. It’s more like a perfect summer night.”

Jessica shook her head. “I didn’t mean that kind of cold.”

“Oh, I see,” Jonathan said. “Yeah. It feels kind of empty sometimes. Like we’re the last people on earth.”

“Thanks. That makes me feel much better.”

“You shouldn’t be scared of midnight, Jessica.”

“I’m only scared of being eaten.”

“That was just bad luck.”

“But Rex said—”

“Don’t worry about what Rex says,” Jonathan interrupted. “He’s way too paranoid. He thinks no one should explore the blue time until they know all ten thousand years of midnighter lore. That’s like reading a whole VCR manual just to watch a movie. Which I’ve seen Rex actually do, by the way.”

“You should’ve seen the darkling that attacked me,” Jessica said.

“I’ve seen darklings. Lots of them.”

“But—”

Jonathan disappeared from the window, and Jessica’s breath caught short. He had slipped out of sight so quickly, so gracefully, rolling backward like a scuba diver off a boat. A moment later his head and shoulders reappeared.

He extended his hand through the window. “Come on. Let me unscare you.”

Jessica hesitated. She looked at the row of thirteen thumbtacks that Dess had told her to line up under the window. As Jessica had stuck them into the window frames and door of her bedroom, she’d felt incredibly stupid. Thumbtacks were supposed to protect her from the forces of evil?

But the kind of object didn’t matter, Dess had explained, only the number.

Jonathan saw where she was looking. “Let me guess. You’re protected by the mighty power of paper clips?”

“Uh, no. Mighty power of thumbtacks, actually.” Jessica felt herself starting to blush and hoped it wouldn’t show in the blue light.

Jonathan nodded. “Dess does know some pretty cool stuff. But I know a few tricks too. You’ll be safe with me, I promise.”

He was smiling again. Jessica decided that she liked Jonathan’s smile.

And she realized that he was totally unafraid. She considered his offer. He had lived here in Bixby for more than two years and had managed to survive, even to enjoy himself. Surely he must understand midnight as well as Rex or Dess.

And before he had appeared, she’d been afraid just sitting here in her room. Now she felt secure. She was probably safer with an experienced midnighter—or whatever he called himself—than on her own.

Jessica telescoped Jurisprudence down to its shortest length, put it into her pocket, then pulled on her sneakers.

“Okay, unscare me.”

She put one foot up on the windowsill and reached for Jonathan’s hand.

As his palm pressed against hers, Jessica’s breath caught short. She felt suddenly light-headed… light-bodied, as if her whole bedroom had turned into an elevator and headed for the basement.

“What—,” she started.

Jonathan didn’t answer, just pulled Jessica gently out the window. She floated up and out easily, as if she were full of helium. Her feet landed softly, bouncing a little before settling softly onto the ground.

“What’s going on?” she finished.

“Midnight gravity,” Jonathan said.

“Uh, this is new,” she said. “How come I never—”

Jonathan let go of her hand, and weight returned. Her sneakers pushed into the soft dirt.

Jessica reached for Jonathan’s hand again. When she took it, the buoyant feeling returned.

“You’re making this happen?” she said.

Jonathan nodded. “Rex does lore. Dess does numbers. Melissa does… her stuff.” He faced the house across the street. “And I do this.”

He jumped. Jessica was pulled after him, like a kid’s balloon tied to a bike. But she didn’t feel as if she were being dragged. It hardly seemed as if they were moving at all. The world dropped softly away, the ground rolling beneath them. The road passed by below, frozen leaves brushing against them, the neighbor’s house sliding closer like some big, stately ship pulling into dock.

“You… fly?” Jessica managed.

They settled on the neighbor’s roof, still featherlight. She could see the whole motionless street now, two parallel rows of roofs stretching away in either direction. But strangely there was no sense of height, no fear of falling. It was as if her body didn’t believe in gravity anymore.

Jessica found a leaf clutched in her free hand. She must have grabbed it out of the air as they’d passed through the frozen swirl of leaves.

“It’s okay,” Jonathan said. “I’ve got you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But… who’s got you?” The soles of Jonathan’s shoes barely brushed the slate roof, as if he were a hot-air balloon anxious to get off the ground.

In response he took the leaf from her hand. He held it with two fingers and released it. It didn’t fall, just stayed where Jonathan had placed it in the air.

Jessica reached out her hand. When her fingertips brushed the leaf, it fell softly to the roof, then skittered down the steep angle. Just as it had the raindrops, her touch released it. But Jonathan’s was different.

“Gravity stops when time does,” Jonathan said. “Time has to pass for something to fall.”

“I guess so.”

“Remember the intro chapter to our physics book? Gravity is just a warp in space-time.”