The Mysterious Messenger

by Gilbert Ford

  “Yes, but WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” Sebastian said. “Why are we packing? Are you moving? And where are your pa—”

  “There isn’t time,” Maria said.

  When the boxes were neatly stacked in the kitchen, Maria slipped on her shoes. “You have your MetroCard?” she asked.

  “Yes,” answered Sebastian, “but where are we going?”

  Maria pulled him through her apartment to the front door. Then she pushed her friend from her dark cave into the lively afternoon of the outside world.

  “I’ll race you to the train!” Maria said before she pushed the gate wide open and shot out.

  Sebastian took a step through the gate and paused. Then he shook his head and said, “Wait for me!”

  They flew down the sidewalk, dodging dog walkers and kids at play.

  Maria’s heart beat rapidly, like a tiny bird that had just been set free.

  * * *

  “The blank canvas is the hardest for the artist to harness,” read Mrs. Fisher. She paused in front of the window in her living room and cleared her throat. “But false starts and mess-ups are part of the process…”

  Maria gave Sebastian a sideways glance on the sofa and smiled. Then she took her last bite of the sandwich Mrs. Fisher had prepared for lunch. That afternoon, the widow had performed a few of her songs on the piano before she’d spun some of her favorite records. Albums by John Coltrane, Miles Davis, and Donald Byrd were strewn about the floor with her sheet music. Maria had suddenly remembered to give Mrs. Fisher the poem, and to her disappointment, the widow was stumped.

  “I was his student that failed when I fell,” continued Mrs. Fisher, her eyes glued to the message. “I was his student…” she mumbled. “Student.” Mrs. Fisher paced back and forth in front of the window, stepping over a Billie Holiday record.

  Sebastian bent down to pet Archimedes, but the cat darted back behind the sofa.

  Maria waited for Mrs. Fisher to stop pacing. She’d felt the cold tingling of Edward’s presence all afternoon but didn’t want to tell Sebastian about him. If only Edward could have just TOLD them where the treasure was! These riddles and poems were driving her bonkers. She hoped with all her heart that this letter would jog Mrs. Fisher’s memory so she could solve the riddle of who Edward really was once and for all.

  “Now … Edward. Edward,” said Mrs. Fisher to herself. “My memory must be failing me. My husband had a lot of students.”

  Archimedes peeked his head out from behind the sofa and nudged Sebastian’s hand. But Sebastian had given up on petting the cat.

  Maria snapped her fingers until she had the cat’s attention, then she scooped him in her arms and cradled Archimedes as if he were a baby. She stood up with him and meandered across the living room to the mirror where she could admire her reflection with him again.

  Inside the full-length mirror was an eleven-year-old girl with a feisty cat … and just behind her were two friends. If Maria could freeze this moment in time, she would, because in that reflection, at that precise moment, was a snapshot of everything that made her feel happy. The afternoon sun beamed through the window and fell across the room like a warm blanket.

  Oh! If only this moment would last!

  But then the glow in the room faded, and Maria abruptly turned from the mirror. An icy chill shot down her back, and she dropped the cat. “Edward!” Maria called. He must have been losing his patience with her, she thought.

  Mrs. Fisher stopped pacing. Both the widow and Sebastian stared at Maria.

  Maria shivered, rubbing her arms as Archimedes darted behind the curtains.

  Sebastian pushed his glasses up. “Who’s Edward?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Fisher added. “Who IS Edward?” She breezed past the sofa and stood beside Maria before turning to Sebastian. “I apologize, Sebastian. Have you been informed about Maria’s friend Edward?” Then Mrs. Fisher gave Maria a nudge. “Do you want to tell him about your friend?”

  Maria shook her head quickly.

  “Is he here right now?” Mrs. Fisher asked.

  Maria nodded. She knew she hadn’t much time. IF she wanted to find the treasure and Edward’s true identity, she needed to talk to him right then and there. So what if Sebastian would find out her secret? Mrs. Fisher knew. And if Sebastian didn’t like it, well, she wouldn’t be in New York City much longer anyway. She searched Sebastian’s eager face. He stared at her unblinking, mouth open, with that gap tooth of his peeking out. Maybe he could be trusted.

  “Can you pass me a pen and paper?” she asked.

  “Certainly,” responded the widow. She searched around on her dining room table for a pen. “Now, Sebastian, what you are about to see Maria do is very special. We like to call it automatic writing. It’s when the spirit world sends messages through writing from the subconscious, and often it appears as poetry.”

  Sebastian adjusted his cap. “I don’t understand. What does this have to do with … Edward and the treasure?”

  Maria ignored him and pulled out a chair from the table. After the paper was in place, she sat at the table and balanced the pen between her knuckles. She shut her eyes and let her head fall back. The cool air consumed her while her hand rocked back and forth over the paper.

  Sebastian gasped. “What’s happening?”

  “Shhhhh!” said Mrs. Fisher. “Let her finish.”

  * * *

  Maria opened her eyes. The paper was no longer in front of her.

  Sebastian shook his head, backing away from her chair. “What did you just do?”

  Maria shivered. “Edward’s a ghost,” she said in a half yawn. Sebastian froze. It was hard for Maria to tell the expression on her friend’s face. For what seemed like eternity, his mouth remained open, and his eyes grew large.

  Finally, he took a deep breath. “Maria. Ghosts aren’t real. There’s no scientific proof.”

  Maria narrowed her eyes, trying to hold back her anger.

  “But what you did was a cool trick! You’ll have to teach—”

  “I’ve got it!” said Mrs. Fisher. She dropped the paper to the floor and whisked down the hall. After a few moments, her voice sang, “Bingo! I found him!”

  Maria and Sebastian raced through the living room and joined Mrs. Fisher in the hallway.

  “It’s Eddy De la Cruz!” she said. She pulled a framed photo from the wall and brought it close to Maria and Sebastian so they could see. The black-and-white photo showed a younger Mrs. Fisher laughing at a table with a balding man, presumably her late husband. They were surrounded by a crowd at the dinner party. “There!” Mrs. Fisher’s nail tapped the glass surface of the photo. Her finger rested on the young face of a dark-haired man standing next to a young woman with dark features. He had a brooding brow joined by two creases. “This is your ghost!”

  Maria took in the photo. So this was Edward. His dark looks made him sort of handsome, but he seemed quiet, tucked off to the side. She gave the photo back to Mrs. Fisher and asked, “But who was he?”

  “He was one of my husband’s students in the eighties!” Mrs. Fisher said, and beamed. “Such a sweet young man! He was a poet, and for a while he was a regular in this house. I last recall he married and had a family … but then I think his wife died. Oh, goodness, it’s been so long. Poor Eddy!”

  A poet? Maybe that explained all of the riddles and poems he’d sent her. But Maria wondered why Eddy had picked her to write through.

  “That explains how he knew about the gingersnaps in the kitchen,” Mrs. Fisher said. “He loved those cookies.”

  Sebastian shifted his weight beside Maria. “Let me get this straight. You both think this man’s a ghost that’s been talking to Maria. I don’t buy it.” Sebastian leaned against the wall.

  Maria and Mrs. Fisher glanced at each other.

  “I was told there was a treasure hidden in this apartment. Is this whole thing a joke?”

  Maria made fists at her side. How could he think she was making all this up? She took a deep breath and
tried to hold back from saying anything. Then she realized he did have a point. She had no idea what Eddy De la Cruz had to do with finding the treasure. Maybe Edward had made it all up. But why?

  The light from the living room faded to a cool blue and darkened the hallway where they stood. Mrs. Fisher flicked on a light. Maria knew the sun was setting and she needed to be home before her mother and Mr. Fox got back. “Let me ask Edward one more question.”

  Maria sat at the table and balanced the pen between her knuckles again. She was nervous with Sebastian standing beside her because she knew he was skeptical. She settled into stillness and waited. “Eddy?” she whispered. “Do you hear me? I’m ready.” She shut her eyes and sat at the table and patiently waited for Edward to write through her.

  But nothing happened.

  She felt no cold tingle of air, no frost around her hand, no magic at all. She felt only the eyes of a nonbeliever and a caring Mrs. Fisher pressing into her. “Edward?” Maria began again, her voice shaking this time. “I need to know where the treasure is. Are you there?”

  Still nothing.

  The air around her remained the same temperature. Finally, Maria opened her eyes and said, “He’s gone.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “It’s not real.”

  Mrs. Fisher rested her hand on Maria’s back and rubbed it gently. “There, there … We can find the treasure another time.”

  Maria pulled herself from her chair. “There won’t be another time. I’m sorry, Mrs. Fisher. I’ve failed you.”

  “Oh, Maria,” said the widow. She threw her arms around her. “You failed no one. Don’t ever think that!”

  Maria knew this might be her last visit with Mrs. Fisher. Soon she’d be on the road searching for another town where she could con widows and other lonely victims. She wanted to tell Mrs. Fisher everything, but it just didn’t seem right. And besides, she needed to leave right then if she was to beat her mother home. She sniffled and pulled away. “I have to go. Goodbye, Mrs. Fisher.”

  “Goodbye, Maria,” replied the widow. “And goodbye to you, Sebastian!” Mrs. Fisher stuck out her hand for a handshake. “It was nice to meet you! I do hope you’ll both return soon.”

  Sebastian smiled and shook her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you!”

  “I’ll prepare us all some lunch again,” said Mrs. Fisher. “And I’ll even have some of that favorite bread of yours, Maria.”

  Sebastian pulled on Maria’s sleeve. “Why must we go so soon? If we call our parents, we can stay a little longer. It’s not that I don’t believe there COULD be ghosts. We just need to conduct some experiments to find out the truth.”

  Maria grabbed Sebastian’s hand and tugged him through the door. “We’re out of time. I’m supposed to be home now.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s go!” said Maria. She gave one last glance at the photos lining the walls and glared at the face of Edward seated in the crowd.

  And then Maria realized something.

  She hadn’t let anyone down. It was Edward. He’d let them all down by disappearing again.

  There probably was no hidden treasure to begin with. And why did she have to have Edward for a friend, anyway?

  He couldn’t hug her when things were awful.

  And things were definitely awful.

  He couldn’t stop her mother from taking her away from her home. He couldn’t cook her lasagna like Sebastian’s mom. And he had a way of disappearing just when she needed him most. Right now would have been a good time to prove himself real to Sebastian!

  She tore through the door with Sebastian trailing her and stomped down the old stairs. Sebastian argued as he followed behind her, but Maria paid no mind.

  Nothing was going her way, and there was no way to fix things.

  20

  Friendship Derailed

  The train rocked back and forth and echoed in the tunnel under the East River as it headed into Brooklyn. Passengers rested their heads in their hands or read newspapers. Two friends argued at the front of the train car. Sebastian held the pole and tried to balance while Maria positioned herself with her back against the door.

  “W-w-what’s going on?” Sebastian asked.

  “Nothing. I mean … What do you mean?”

  “First you make me pack up your apartment as if you’re mov—” Sebastian’s voice was swallowed by the screech of the brakes when the train pulled into High Street. “And there’s nothing but junk food in your place! I packed candy and beef jerky.”

  “So?” asked Maria, gripping the pole as the train started again.

  “Okay, well, what’s with the prison quarters inside the closet?”

  “What prison quarters?”

  “Aw, come on! That little mattress and gray blanket under your mother’s coats! Is that where you sleep?”

  “Of course not!” Her eyes darted away from Sebastian’s gaze. She couldn’t look at him and lie. Telling him about Edward had been a big mistake. If Maria ratted her mother out by sharing her family’s schemes, she knew she’d have to pay for it. She moved away, but Sebastian cornered her in front of a passenger with headphones.

  “I’ve seen your whole apartment. There’s nowhere else for you to sleep. That was your bed! And why did your mom force you to pack?”

  “I told you! She’s busy.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “And the ghost? How come you never told me about him?”

  “It never came up.”

  “Do you talk to fairies too? Was there ever even a treasure?”

  “I told you. It’s just Edward, and he asked me to help Mrs. Fisher find her treasure. I’ve been relaying the clues to her so we can locate it.”

  “I don’t believe anything you say. It all sounds made up!”

  “I’m telling you the truth.”

  Sebastian slapped the door. “The truth! Your mother’s both a psychic and a social worker, but she hates visitors, and the only time you call me is when she’s gone. But you’re always scared she’ll return. No one should be afraid of their mother!”

  Maria couldn’t handle Sebastian’s questions, and there was nothing she could say that would pass for real with him. She’d seen how he lived. HIS life was normal. If she told him everything, he might tell his mother, and social services would be outside her door. They would take her away. What would her life be like, then? She had a good system living in the closet tucked away from everyone. There she could keep her secrets—like Edward—hidden.

  The train pulled into Hoyt–Schermerhorn. Maria decided to change trains instead of continuing with Sebastian, but he hopped off with her.

  “We had to leave Mrs. Fisher’s place so soon. And what will your mother do if she gets home before you do? It’s not even dinnertime.”

  Maria couldn’t stand the idea of waiting on the platform for the G train, for who knew how long, with Sebastian pelting her with angry questions! He needed to shut up. She darted back onto the C train before the door closed.

  The train stalled, and the doors opened again. Sebastian slid in through the partially opened door, his face raw and agitated.

  “Don’t squirm out of this like you always do! Like you did at the library with Ms. Madigan! You’re always running away!” Sebastian was yelling at Maria. Passengers looked up from their reading.

  “Mind your own business, Sebastian!” She pushed him in the chest, and he fell back. “Quit following me! You tag along asking me annoying questions. It’s none of your business!” She pushed Sebastian again so that his back hit the door. “I LET you come over because you begged me. I LET you tag along to Mrs. Fisher’s to find the treasure that YOU wanted to find. I didn’t have to do that.”

  Sebastian raised his eyebrows before his eyes grew moist. Then he looked away.

  “And furthermore, if I say to mind your own business, you need to do it! If you want to be my friend, you do as I say, or we’re not friends!”

  The train pulled away from Lafayette. There was only one more
stop before she could get off.

  “But I AM being your friend!” Sebastian said. “I’m trying to help you. Why did you run away from dinner at my house?”

  Maria turned and faced the door that would be opening at her stop. The lights from the Clinton–Washington station grew brighter as the train approached.

  Sebastian grabbed Maria’s arm. “Just tell me what’s going on so I can help! You’re going to leave me, and you won’t even talk about it. You just pretend like nothing is happening while all this weird stuff is tumbling around you!” Sebastian’s voice cracked.

  She had to protect herself.

  The train screeched to a stop at the station, and the doors opened.

  “Go away, Sebastian! We’re no longer friends!” And with that, Maria tore herself away from his grip and fled down the platform.

  21

  A Missing Girl

  Rap! Rap! Rap!

  Maria tossed and turned in the dark cavern of her bedroom.

  Rap! Rap! Rap!

  The heavy knocks shook the wall, waking Maria up. She opened one eye slowly.

  It had to be her mother making that racket.

  Maria pulled herself up from her mattress and stretched, glad to have the coats packed away so she could spread out.

  “We got a customer!” said Madame Destine through the wall. The trot of heels echoed through the apartment until the front door slowly creaked open.

  Maria wiped the sleep from her eyes and shook her head. Had she really gotten in a fight with Sebastian two weeks ago? She’d gone straight to her closet the night of their fight, beating her mother home by an hour. Maria had debated knocking on Sebastian’s door, apologizing, and telling him everything. But something wouldn’t let her do it, and with each passing day, the pain of not seeing him grew worse. A few clients had visited Madame Destine after seeing the flyers, which had kept her family from moving as they tried to gather funds for the road.

  Maria placed one groggy eye against the hole that looked into the parlor. She could just make out her mom blocking the front door.