“Finally, after all of that, comes the story of how I rescued your grandma. As you probably know, I hadn’t really nailed the saving so far. Twentieth time’s the charm, though.” “Come on, Grandpa! Tell me! I’ve waited like two weeks!”
“Okay, okay! Here’s how it happened…”
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Quincy and I had been looking in conference room door after door after door trying to find Ivy. Quincy couldn’t sniff her out because the building was so crowded with people and different smells that he could not pick out Ivy’s.
Finally, I creaked open the door a crack and I knew it was Ivy’s room. Screaming and sulphuric red smoke came curling out of the room and into the hallway I was crouching in. I knew it was Ivy’s smoke because it reminded me of her gold sphere, only, it was the opposite. Ivy’s gold planet was beautiful, full of light and goodness that warmed the heart and soul of anyone who saw it. It made you want to be a good person, so that you too could contain that golden beauty in your soul, too. But the red smoke, it was full of fear and anger and selfishness that you could smell, like rotten eggs or the nervous sweat of a thousand AP students before an in class essay. It made you understand and justify the other’s wrongdoings and help you to plan your next. The smoke was suffocating in its viciousness and forced bile to creap like poisonous spiders up my throat.
I needed to get Ivy out of there, but first I needed to get it. I thrust open the door, only to find myself in a room full of gorilla men, who immediately converged, grabbing both of my arms and legs and tying me to a cold, metal chair in between Ivy and Damian. Perfect, I was exactly where I wanted to be.
“Psst, Damian,” Everyone else was paying attention to Ivy as she writhed and emitted another round of red odor.
“Yeah, what do you want?” “Why are you doing this?” “I don’t have to justify myself to you.”
“I know you think this will help you win back your wife and kids, but I’m telling you, it won’t!”
“You don’t know anything about my situation, kid.”
“So you think that causing another kid excruciating pain, keeping her from saving her father’s life, and using her to take over the world are likable qualities in a husband and father?”
“We’re not taking over the world, we’re making cosmetics that help with anti-aging.” “Is that what your mom told you?” “Yeah, because that’s what we’re doing. We’re gonna make so much money and we’re gonna help people stay healthy and strong with Ivy’s magic. I know it hurts her, but she’s just one person and she could help so many.” “That’s not what your mom is planning to do and this red stuff is not healing magic. It’s destroying magic, killing magic. You are a killer if you use this and sell this. It’s tainted from because Ivy is afraid. And killing magic will not win you back your kids. Please, let us go. And we can help you get them back, but this won’t do it.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“Go in the hallway. There is a flower in a pot next to the door. Take a look at it and decide.”
Then he walked outside into the hallway. A few seconds later, I heard him unleash a blood curdling scream because he saw what I saw earlier. The flower was not only dead, but it had boils on the steam, red shriveled leaves, it was without petals, but the pollen had turned black and was omitting the same foil stench as the red smoke. I was a terrible sight. It made you think of death and imagine your own decay. It’s no wonder he screamed. He then came back into the conference room, and ashen-faced he turned the machine off, ripped off Ivy’s cords and suctions, lifting her up to craddle her in his arms and passed me a knife to cut myself free from the chair. The businessmen were all over us and Hag was screaming obscenities at her son, but even without the use of his arms, Damian was strong and able to nudge his way through the big men grabbing and punching him. (Not to brag or anything, but I was very strong, too, and I was able to take a couple of those suits down myself.)
We escaped the conference room and then the building with the suits on our tail. Damian set an almost unconscious Ivy next to me, in the backseat of a car that he broke into and hotwired. And the three of us sped away to the hospital in Boston, where Ivy’s father was.
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“Now, Mia, is that a story or is that a story?”
“Wow, Grandpa! You really did save, Grandma Ivy!” “Of course, I did! What’s that supposed to mean, you little booger? Hahaha. Have more faith in your Grandpa Jem, please.” “I have faith in you, Grandpa Jem!’
“Well, have a little more, why dontcha? Because, the next part of the story wouldn’t have been possible without all my help.”
“Oh Grandpa, you’re so silly!”