“My heart fell as I saw him. The young boy in a crisp little suit and hat was being pushed past me by a rather insistent older woman. The child was unmistakably vivid and corporeal. He was my quest.
“The urgency coursed through me; my duty was undeniably imminent. We had spent three months on our mission in Pyongyang, five months in the Algerian Sahara Desert. Why, oh why, now that I was on my home soil, was I acting within moments of arrival? I looked around the bustling crowds and shimmering shops of my home country, wanting to cry.
“The woman tugged at the boy, accusing him of dawdling, though he hauled a heavy suitcase and was moving as quickly as he could manage. He had a flushed face and damp brow despite the chill, and he begged the woman to let him rest for a moment, but she didn’t even slow, saying, ‘Geoffrey! Your parents will be awaiting you in Charfield. My sister will be furious with me if you miss this train.’
“I followed them into the station and waited. The woman counted out bills at the ticket desk while Geoffrey sat slumped on his bag. A massive sign overhead announced the train would be leaving from platform twelve in twenty minutes. I slipped past the many unseeing eyes and followed the sign to all trains, though I wouldn’t have needed any signage to know which terminus was mine; a brilliant green passenger train stood amidst ten or so faded and ghostly engines.
“Five minutes later, Geoffrey and his aunt approached a conductor, who checked his ticket and directed them one car down. At the door, the dour woman gave the boy a crisp nod before he climbed aboard and disappeared from view. She then stepped away from the train, straight-backed, both hands clutching her bag, and waited.
“Adults make my job so much harder than necessary.
“I consulted the large clock hanging above the platform. I would need to wait until the last possible moment.
“More passengers loaded, but I kept my eyes down, rolling a pebble with the toe of my shoe. Even though I know there is nothing I can do to save these people, I still try not to look at the faces of the doomed. A few last-minute passengers hurried aboard as the conductor shouted his final warnings.
“It was time.
“Being invisible can be lonely, but it certainly helps when you need to board a train without a ticket. I beat the conductor to the stairs and slipped past a man placing his bag in the overhead bin. Geoffrey was sitting in the back, thankfully in a seat without a window. If he’d seen his aunt—who was quietly and serenely awaiting his departure—it would have ruined everything.
“I ran up to him and told him that his aunt had sent me to fetch him; he needed to collect his bag and exit the train, something about today being the wrong day for him to travel. He looked alarmed as the train lurched slightly and began creeping forward, an inch at a time. I told him his aunt had realized she had made a mistake and his parents wouldn’t be in Charfield to receive him. We were moving at a crawl as he scrambled to grab his things, barely even looking at me. He tossed his bag down and jumped to the platform, stumbling slightly on landing.
“I hurried to a window, relieved to see that his aunt was distractedly chatting with an older gentleman beside her. It wasn’t until we had picked up quite a bit of speed that she noticed Geoffrey returning to her side. Her initial surprise gave way to frantic and futile gestures to stop the train. I watched the old woman berate poor Geoffrey as the train took its first turn, and they slipped out of sight.
“I sat down and watched the landscape flicker by through the window. All I had left to do was wait for the inevitable, knowing that by the time Geoffrey and his family learned the terrible fate of this train, I would already be back in the In-Between.”
“Oh, Gus,” Jess sighed.
Cooper shook his head. Every inch of him ached, imagining what it was like to be Gus, knowing that he was about to meet a terrible end. Even if he was going to wake up again.
Jess continued to flip through the pages of the journal. “And here’s South Korea, 1995.” She started to read aloud Gus’s account of finding a boy they now knew was Park Cho at the Sampoong Mall, but Cooper told her to stop. He couldn’t hear any more.
“Do you think it’s possible that it’s over?” he said.
Jess looked at him sideways. “Of course it’s over. The bridge fell.”
“No. I mean for Elena and Gus.”
“Oh.” Jess sighed. After a moment, she quietly added, “Is it terrible for me to hope so? I mean, even if they never make it through that door to their parents, if it’s truly over—if they really died this time—at least they don’t have to suffer anymore.”
Cooper nodded. He stayed quiet as Jess finished skimming through the journal, flipping all the way to the end. He jumped slightly as Jess gripped his arm. “Coop. Look.”
At the top of the last entry, instead of the same “Dearest Mother” that headed all the rest, Cooper saw “To my friends, Cooper and Jess.”
He grabbed the journal and began reading Gus’s final words.
30
To my friends, Cooper and Jess,
Today’s the day. Elena and I will do exactly what we’ve been destined to do ever since we stepped out of the In-Between and into your world.
If you are reading this, of course, you already know that.
What you don’t know is how different this particular quest was for me. For so long, I have longed to know why we save the people we do. Why we see you, your sister, and the others as clear as day, while others succumb to the same disasters that take us. It has dogged me, haunted me even. There had to be a point, a purpose, to how these tragedies played out. You have helped me finally understand.
This quest started as unusually as it will end. Elena and I fought bitterly the day we arrived behind your house. I insisted we speak to you, try to understand your lives so we might understand our own. The people we save have always been ignorant of our work, but with our number of quests dwindling, I had to find answers before we died our final deaths.
This was not the first time Elena and I had argued about making contact, but she again forbade it, saying the risk was too great; that it could prevent us from being able to save you when we needed to, or keep you from being where you should be, or any number of unpredictable eventualities.
So I ran away.
I left the yellow house and spent the first few months here in Chicago wandering parks and alleys, staying away from Elena. We can feel when disaster is near, so I knew I had time, but Elena watched over you two like a hawk, perched on her swing, preventing me from interacting with either of you.
I, however, refused to take no for an answer. Elena never thought I’d be so bold as to board your bus or sit at your lunch table at school with you. I must admit, I was quite proud of myself that day the three of us met in the alleyway, shamelessly flaunting that I’d already befriended you. Elena had no power to stop me once she realized I’d made contact.
But Elena was right about one thing—it was selfish of me to involve you, knowing what was going to happen. I was so blinded by my need for answers, for my hunger to fill the black holes of my knowledge, that I missed an obvious and terrible complication: that we would become true friends.
I am so sorry. I never meant for this to cause either of you any pain.
I hope it comes as some solace, however, that I now understand—and Cooper, you were the key. When you walked straight into the In-Between, Elena and I were gobsmacked. It simply wasn’t possible! You hadn’t, after all, left the living world the way we had. I couldn’t guess how it was possible. But I now think I know. It was that story about your dad at the movie theater. You told me, “He just turned and walked out the door, like he hadn’t seen me at all.”
Elena and I have been wrong this whole time, thinking the In-Between was only about being stuck between life and death. It’s more than that. The In-Between’s doors are open to anyone who is invisible. Anyone who feels forgotten.
My friends, please know this now and forever: no matter how much your father, or anyone else, makes you
feel otherwise, you are seen. You are brilliantly visible. Your pain and your loneliness are real, as are your kindness, your courage, and your sense of humor. You are not forgotten. And now that you have the chance to live, please, refuse to fade away.
Cooper, those stories I told you, of my friends back home? Those weren’t lies; they’re stories I gathered about other kids at your school, invisible as I was. They are the lives of your classmates, some of whom feel as forgotten as you and I do. Find them. See them the way you saw me.
If there’s one thing Elena and I have learned over these decades, it’s that bad things happen that no one can stop: divorce, illness, lost friendship, family heartbreak, and these awful, awful catastrophes. They, sadly, are part of being alive.
But so are joy, love, and happiness. These are things Elena and I missed out on when our lives ended too soon. So please, find those too. Make our sacrifice worth it.
You are not invisible. You are both unforgettable. Never doubt that.
Love,
Gus (and Elena)
P.S. Oh, and Cooper, I’m sorry I had to stretch the truth about my parents. They were always traveling, as Elena told you, just not in the way I had led you to believe.
Cooper gently closed the journal and clutched it to his chest. Neither he nor Jess spoke for a long while.
Invisible.
Repeating that word in his mind made a lump rise in Cooper’s throat. It was so dead-on. So right. Those nine little letters encompassed everything Cooper had felt for the last few years, though he was quite certain he had never written that word in his journal. Funny how you can miss something so simple. So basic. It was the word that lived beneath all the rest.
Jess, her voice quiet, broke into his thoughts. “I still love him.”
“Who? Dad?”
She nodded slowly.
“I know,” Cooper said. “I think I do too. That’s what makes this all so hard.”
After a moment, Jess added, “Do we have to stop?”
Cooper thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He turned to his sister, and she looked so clear, so vivid, just like Elena and Gus had in their final seconds. “But maybe we can start seeing each other a little better too.”
Jess appeared to try the idea on for size. “Deal.”
Cooper stood and helped Jess up. The sky was the color of a deep bruise as they resumed their walk home. They moved away from the symphony of sirens swarming the area, their blare in sharp contrast to the soft crunch of leaves under Cooper’s and Jess’s feet. An ambulance flew by. They seemed to be the only people in the city who weren’t rushing toward the bridge.
“I can’t believe they’re gone,” Jess said, her breath making little wisps of steam in the cool air.
“I know.” Cooper let out a long breath. “It’s so unfair.”
“It’s kind of funny how the two of them argued, right?” Jess said. “That part about him refusing to do what his sister wanted him to do? Sounded kinda familiar.”
“I guess it proves that sisters have been annoying throughout the centuries.”
Jess gently punched Cooper on the shoulder. He smiled.
“They save people over and over again,” Jess said, “but no one gets to save them.”
“At least they have each other,” Cooper said, but it wasn’t much comfort. “Two sisters, whoever they truly are, back in the In-Between—”
With this thought, a realization exploded in Cooper’s mind.
“Wait!”
He said it so loudly Jess jumped slightly. “What?”
“Could that be it? Is that how we save them too?”
Jess shook her head. “But Coop, it’s already too late.”
“For the bridge, yes! I mean to save them for forever! Come on!” Cooper took off running. If he was right, he knew how to open that golden door to their parents, out of the In-Between and into the Beyond.
Because something else was different this time, something that even Gus hadn’t realized.
Cooper closed his eyes for a moment as he ran, hoping that they weren’t already one death too late.
31
Cooper ran even faster than he had on the bridge. He streaked down the roads he and Jess had traveled an hour and a half earlier. It didn’t seem possible that their entire world could be flipped upside-down in such a small amount of time.
Jess, arms pumping, pulled up beside Cooper. “What is it?” She spoke one breathless word at a time as they sprinted.
“I have to go back. Back into the In-Between!”
Jess fell back a few paces. “What? How?”
“I don’t know, but I have to try!” Elena had told him that she and her sister had landed in the In-Between because they weren’t missed by one single living soul. Because they’d been forgotten by everyone left behind.
That was what was different this time. That was something they had changed.
But Cooper needed one crucial piece of information.
Jess gained on him as they rounded a turn. “I’m coming too.”
Cooper looked at his sister. Her head was held high, and there was a confidence in the square of her shoulders and the clarity of her gaze, even as they ran.
He smiled at her and she returned it. “Okay then,” he said. “Let’s do this.”
They continued, side by side, taking the turn down the alley and toward their home. When Elena’s house came into view, Cooper stumbled to a halt, and his mouth fell open.
The yellow house was gone. In its place, the abandoned building, complete with its yard of dirt and trash, was back.
“Oh no,” Jess said, her gaze bouncing between the house and her brother. “Can we even get into the In-Between anymore? Is the portal even there?”
“Only one way to find out!” Cooper bolted toward the house.
“But . . .” Jess hesitated, but then, with a deep breath, she followed her brother’s steps through the yard, up the rickety, warped wooden stairs, and through the unlocked back door.
The inside of the house was exactly as Cooper expected, exactly the same as he’d seen it before. Jess, however, paused momentarily to stare at the debris, the broken furniture, the hole in the ceiling of the living room. All she’d seen for the last two months, after all, was the beautiful lie.
Cooper didn’t slow as he crossed to the other side of the living room, skirting the old threadbare couch on his way to the front door. He put his hand on the cold knob and closed his eyes. If the other side of this door held nothing but Poplar Avenue, any and all chance of saving Elena and Gus was lost. He turned his wrist and opened the door.
Jess gasped.
The field of long yellow grass swayed in front of them, a gentle wind sending ripples through it like the surface of a pond. Cooper didn’t waste a moment; he jumped over the threshold and onto the soft ground of the meadow. The sky was a piercing blue, and a hundred yards away stood the gilded door, still closed. He turned back to his sister and held out a hand.
Jess clutched the doorframe and shook her head slightly. “Cooper, what are we doing? What if we can’t get back out?”
“Trust me, Jess. We’ll be quick. We just need to find them!”
Jess didn’t move but called out, “Elena? Gus?” Her feet stayed firmly planted in the house. Only the caw of an unseen raven answered her cry. “Cooper, what if we’re too late?”
“We’re not too late.” There was no way he could know, but there was also no way he was going to step back through that doorway and give up. He owed Gus. He owed Elena. “We’re the only ones who can help them. We have to try!”
Jess took a deep breath, then jumped. She landed beside her brother and held his hand tightly.
They took off running, both shouting Elena’s and Gus’s names. The wind pushed against their chests, slowing their progress, and the prairie grass snapped under their footfalls. The smell of summer hay rose all around them. And this time, the house trailed them; even as they ran, it seemed to rema
in a few yards behind. The golden door did the same. It was as if they were running on a treadmill.
But there were no cliffs, no oaks, no tea tables. And no Elena or Gus.
“Cooper, how long have we been running?” Jess eventually asked.
He had no idea. Seconds, minutes, years?
Jess spun around to scan behind them, only to stop running. She gasped, “Cooper!”
He pulled up, hopeful she had found Gus and Elena somewhere on the horizon, but instead saw Jess staring, horrified, at the house. He followed her gaze. The house was changing. The downspouts on the corners of the roof were melting away like hot wax, as if someone had lit an invisible wick at the top of each. At the same time, the roof began to sag in the middle, and the shingles were blurring together, smearing into one thick muddy slab.
“We need to go back!” Jess cried. “If the house is gone, we’ll never get home!”
“No!” He shook off the thought. “We have to find them, Jess. We can save them!”
He began running backward, away from the house, and his heel caught on something large and soft. He toppled over backward, landing hard, flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him.
Lying on the ground beside him, almost completely hidden in the long grass, was the body of a girl, contorted in an unnatural position. Cooper looked behind him to see a second girl. “I found them. They’re here!”
The two girls were nearly identical. They wore heavy woolen coats and leather shoes, and their hair was pulled back in braids. They looked exactly like the person Gus had become for that flickering instant on the bridge.
Jess came up beside him. “Oh my g—” she uttered. “Cooper, are they dead?”
“Please, no. No, no, no.” This couldn’t be how it ended. Not when they were so close. He scrambled forward to the side of the girl he had tripped over, placed a hand on her shoulder, and shook it gently. “Elena? Gus?”
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