Five Portraits by Piers Anthony Page B

fun.”
    â€œI’m glad to see them happy. But what is the point of it? They were looking for a way to be together when they were apart.”
    â€œWe’ll see.”
    Fortunately the children’s attention spans were short, and they soon tired of the circling and racing. Then the merry-go-round slowed and stopped, and they got off and rejoined the adults.
    â€œThis will do,” Firenze said.
    â€œI’m glad you are enjoying it. But how does it enable you to be together when you’re apart?”
    â€œWell, it’s magic. But there’s a catch.”
    â€œHow is it magic?”
    â€œWe can take it with us, so we can use it whenever we want.”
    Astrid gazed at the playground enclosure, which measured about a mundane acre. “How do you do this?”
    â€œLike this,” Santo said.
    The children ran to the edges of the park. They pushed against the picket fence surrounding it, and the fence folded down. Then they pushed again, and the edges folded inward. Where they came to a slide, swing, seesaw or whatever, that folded too, as if painted on the surface. They continued, until they met in the center, pushing five edges together to form a box. Then they folded the box, and it became smaller and smaller, until at last it was matchbox-size. Santo tucked it into his shirt pocket.
    â€œCan you reverse it?” Astrid asked.
    â€œSure,” Firenze said. “We can just unfold it.”
    â€œBut if you are separated, only the one who unfolds it will have the park. That won’t bring you together.”
    â€œMatches!” Win said.
    â€œI forgot,” Santo said. He pulled the matchbox out of his pocket, slid it open, and brought out matches. He passed them out to the others, and took one himself, which he put in another pocket. The others put theirs in their pockets, except Squid, who tucked hers into her painted hair. Astrid decided not to inquire how she could put a real object in fake hair.
    â€œMatches are dangerous in the hands of children,” Astrid said. “They can set fires.”
    â€œThese are different,” Squid said. “They don’t make fire.”
    â€œThey match people up with the box,” Win said.
    â€œSo we can all come to the park, wherever it is,” Myst said.
    Astrid was unsure about this. “Can you demonstrate?”
    â€œSure,” Santo said. He walked away from them, turned, and struck his match against a rock. There was no flash of fire. Instead he appeared back by the matchbox.
    But Astrid was unsatisfied. “I’m sure that playing here is fun, and you can get to the playground when you want to. But you can play anywhere. Why is it so important to have this particular park?”
    â€œWe don’t know,” Firenze said. “Just that it is.”
    â€œThat’s not sufficient. We need a better answer.”
    The boy’s face started to heat. He was about to go into fireworks mode.
    Astrid touched her glasses warningly.
    Firenze cooled. “Maybe we can find out.”
    â€œIt’ll cost us,” Santo said.
    â€œOh, blip!” Firenze agreed. “It’s not free.”
    â€œI’m not comfortable with all this mystery,” Astrid said. “I think we had better find out what it costs, and why.”
    â€œBut we have to use it to find out,” Squid protested.
    â€œYou found the playground without using it,” Astrid said. “Now find out what it’s for.”
    The children bounced a glance somewhat haphazardly around. “Maybe we can,” Santo said.
    They gathered together and linked hands. They concentrated. Then they fell apart, dismayed. “That’s scary!” Win said.
    Squid lost her composure, reverting to her octopus form. Little Myst started crying.
    Astrid picked her up, and she did not fog out. This brief contact should be all right despite Astrid’s intoxicating ambiance. “What scared you,