The Last Present

by Wendy Mass

  He crosses over to the bed. “I heard Amanda tell the nurse that she wants to help,” he says. “I want to help, too. Grace is a really good kid and she doesn’t deserve this, whatever it is.” His voice cracks. “She’s really goofy and much smarter than me and she laughs at my jokes even when they’re really bad, which they usually are.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t hear us. Angelina keeps her eyes averted from Connor’s as she fluffs the pillow behind Grace’s head and lifts Grace’s wrist to take her pulse.

  Now that I can breathe again, I walk over to him. “Whatever we can do, just ask, okay, Connor? We can bring her favorite things; maybe that will help somehow.”

  He nods and sniffles. “That’s a good idea.” Then in a whisper he asks, “What if she’s in pain?”

  “She doesn’t look like she’s in pain to me,” I say truthfully.

  “I … I guess not,” Connor says, studying his sister’s face.

  “I don’t think so, either,” Angelina says, speaking for the first time since Connor arrived. “She’s not in any danger, don’t worry. We will do everything we can to keep her comfortable until she comes around.”

  A second later the door swings open again. The Kellys barely even notice us in their rush to get to Grace’s bedside. We quickly part to let them through. Angelina explains about closing Grace’s eyes, and I can see Mrs. Kelly’s disappointment that they didn’t shut on their own.

  “All right,” Angelina says, all businesslike again. “Time for visitors to go.”

  Mrs. Kelly turns to me and Leo. “Did someone drop you off?”

  “Our friend Ray is waiting outside,” I tell her. “The guy who directed the play? He’s going to take us back to David’s party.”

  “I’d like you to join your friends,” Mrs. Kelly tells Connor. “David worked very hard for this day and without his father there, well, he should have his best friend. We’ll call you with any news.”

  Connor tries to argue, but Mrs. Kelly holds up her hand. “We’ll be fine. Your aunts will be here soon, so we’ll have plenty of company.”

  “Fine,” Connor grumbles. “But I’ll be back as soon as it’s over.”

  Angelina makes a note on the chart hanging off the end of Grace’s bed. Then she says to Connor, “Why don’t you say good-bye to your sister while I get these two some volunteer badges.” She doesn’t wait for his response before ushering us out the door. “We’ll meet you in the lobby,” Leo calls back to him.

  Angelina leads us into an empty waiting room at the far end of the hall, past the elevators. “We don’t have much time,” she says, reaching into her pocket. She hands me a small spiral notebook. “I recorded my plans for each party in there. It will tell you the exact point in each party where the benediction failed. Once that moment passes, so does your chance to fix it.”

  I flip open the notebook and immediately recognize Angelina’s small, even handwriting. Each page lists where the party was held and what object or action carried the benediction. I read out loud, “Ninth birthday: bowling alley, goody bags, must be distributed. Eighth birthday: beach, balloons, must stay tethered. Seventh birthday —”

  “All right, you can study them tonight and prepare your strategy. We still have a lot to go over.”

  “The premiere is tonight,” Leo reminds her.

  “The what?”

  “The premiere?” he repeats. “For the movie they filmed at our school last year that Amanda and Rory and I were extras in? Starring the world-famous Jake Harrison and Madison Waters? Jake, who’s, like, almost dating Rory now?”

  She gives him a blank stare, totally uninterested in what was no doubt the most exciting thing to happen in Willow Falls since, well, ever.

  “As I was saying,” she continues, “you’ll go over the material so you’re as prepared as possible. You will be revisiting each birthday in order from the most recent to the most distant. You will begin tomorrow, at the bowling alley, the location of last year’s birthday party. You will need to be there before the party begins. Once you are in place, your great-great-grandfathers’ curse will begin and you’ll be transported back in time to the same spot.”

  “I prefer the word enchantment, or spell,” Leo says. “Curse sounds so gloom and doom-ish.”

  “You may call it whatever you like,” she snaps, “just do not be late. When your mission is complete, you will return to the place from which you left, and you will be transported back to the present.”

  I have so many questions, but I start with, “What if we can’t stop it from going wrong? Can we keep going back to that same party until we get it right?”

  She shakes her head. “You will only be able to visit each day once. Whether you succeed or fail, the following day will bring you to the previous birthday. Remember, you only need to succeed three times. Your journey back in time can end in three days, or in nine. Aim for three.”

  My stomach growls. I had been too nervous to have breakfast this morning. I really should have grabbed some of those mini–hot dogs at the bar mitzvah.

  Worry flits across Leo’s face. “What you said before, about time moving forward here while we’re gone? If that’s true, then when we go to the past, we’ll just disappear from the present. That’s something our parents are gonna notice.”

  “Hmm, I hadn’t really considered that.” She thinks for a moment, then clicks her tongue. “Well, you’ll come up with something.”

  “Great,” we both mutter.

  “We need to get back to the bar mitzvah before David gets suspicious,” I tell her. “We don’t want him to know about Grace until after, so it doesn’t ruin his party.”

  “Hey, when will Amanda and I be able to talk again?” Leo asks.

  Angelina pulls two volunteer badges from her pocket. She hands both of them to me. “You can talk now if you want. Just beware of breaking the curse too soon. Do it in the past, and you’ll be trapped there.”

  Leo and I stare at each other, wide-eyed. We can talk again! He gives a single shake of his head and I know exactly what he means. Not here. When we’re alone. I turn back to Angelina to remind her that the little apple trees, which kept the curse from breaking last time, have now been planted in Apple Grove. But she’s gone. Vanished in that way that only she can do.

  Leo lifts up his blackboard and scribbles, How does she do that?

  I won’t miss these, I scribble back.

  Let’s take the stairs, he writes, and points to the sign outside the small room.

  I nod. Something about being in a hospital makes the idea of flying down stairs sound really appealing. He grabs my hand and we run down the whole three flights without stopping. I hold the blackboard to my chest so it doesn’t keep smacking me. All I can think is We can talk! We can talk! It’s like having your birthday present waiting for you at the end of your bed, but going to brush your teeth first.

  We meet Connor by the front door. On the way to the parking lot, he asks, “Do you think Ray would mind stopping at my house first? I want to pick up a few things of Grace’s to bring back with me, like you suggested.”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” I say. “He’s pretty adaptable.”

  Ray is leaning against his car door when we arrive. “So, I see today is still today.”

  Connor raises his eyebrows. “As opposed to next Thursday?”

  Ray opens his mouth to answer, but Leo gives him a quick shake of his head. After Connor ducks into the car I whisper to Ray not to say anything about what we told him. I can tell by the way he keeps tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he drives that he wants to know what happened with Angelina. That will have to wait. Angelina made it very clear that Connor can’t find out.

  When we get to his house, Connor runs right up to Grace’s room and starts sweeping things off her dresser into a small duffel bag. Without turning around he says, “Will you guys grab me some movies for Grace to watch? They’re on a shelf in my dad’s office at the end of the hall.”

>   “Movies?” I’m not sure what use Grace would have with those when she doesn’t seem to be able to see anything around her.

  “I read somewhere that watching funny movies when they’re in the hospital helps patients heal faster.”

  “Okay,” I tell him, stepping around him as he sweeps Grace’s history textbook from last year into the bag, along with a half-eaten candy bar and a used tissue. Pretty sure Grace won’t be wanting those, but I don’t stop him. Her room looks exactly like you’d expect it to look for a ten-year-old getting ready for a fancy party. Clothes pulled from drawers and off hangers, ripped tights in a ball on the floor, an instant message open on her computer to her friend Bailey, asking if she should wear her hair up or down. Her playbill from the play last night is pinned to her bulletin board. She drew little pink hearts around the edges. Seeing that makes me sad again. I’m sure Grace never imagined she wouldn’t be returning to her room tonight. It strikes me that one day all of us will leave a room for the last time and not know it. Not that I think Grace won’t be coming back. I can’t let myself think that.

  Leo nudges me with the edge of his blackboard. His raised eyebrow and the slight creases in the corners of his eyes mean he’s asking if I’m okay. I shake myself out of my dark thoughts and nod. We leave Connor and hurry down the hall.

  The shelf is more like an entire wall full of shelves. Upon first glance, I can tell about half of the DVDs are movies whose names I recognize, and the other half are home videos, labeled according to event and date. Family trips, dance recitals, soccer practices, first haircuts. Mr. Kelly must have a video camera glued to his face. I start to pull out the DVDs that I think Grace would enjoy, or rather that a normal version of Grace would enjoy.

  I’ve just added a copy of Shrek to my growing pile, when Leo pulls out one of the videos and waves it in front of my face. Connor’s and Grace’s Birthdays is written across the front in neat black letters. My eyes bug out of my head. I lift my blackboard and chalk, and start writing. I know we can talk now, but I don’t want our first words in a year to be about someone else’s home movies. Do you think it will show what happened? I write.

  He scrawls, One way to find out. He runs behind the desk, opens the first drawer, and holds up a box of flash drives triumphantly. He writes on his board again and turns it toward me. Keep Connor away.

  Before I can protest, he’s behind Mr. Kelly’s desk, booting up his computer. I grab my pile of movies and run out. I can’t watch.

  Turns out Connor isn’t upstairs anymore anyway. I find him down in the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry and stuffing snack bars into his already full duffel bag. He’s holding Grace’s pillow under one arm. With his suit on he looks like a well-dressed burglar.

  “Um, Leo just had to use the bathroom. He’ll be right down.” Ugh, I hate lying. There’s no way to make that one into a lie that isn’t really a lie.

  A minute later we hear the toilet flush upstairs. Yup, there’s that whole sharing-a-brain thing again.

  As soon as we step foot inside the community center, David breaks away from the dance floor, which has been set up where the bingo tables usually are. He comes bounding up to us, a little sweaty in his fancy bar-mitzvah-boy suit. Happy sweaty, though, not gross sweaty. “Where have you been?” he asks us over the loud music. “Rory and Tara said you had to go do something, but wouldn’t tell me what.” Before we can reply, he turns to Connor and says, “What’s this about a wedding your parents forgot about?”

  “They thought I should be here after all,” Connor says, putting on a brave smile. “The others are really sorry to miss it, though.”

  Taking a cue from Connor, I sidestep the truth and say, “We brought your gift!” I hold open my pocketbook to show him the small wrapped box inside. It’s been there all day but he doesn’t need to know that. The flash drive with the videos that Leo “borrowed” from Mr. Kelly is lying underneath.

  David laughs. “You didn’t have to miss an hour of the party to get it!” He reaches for it, his fingers grazing the flash drive and causing my heart to skip a beat. Then he holds the box up to his ear and gives it a shake. “It’s not a tiny periodic table, right? ’Cause I still have the one you made me when I almost knocked you down in the hallway at school a few years ago.”

  “Sorry, Bee Boy. You only get one of those per lifetime.”

  “You mean, sorry, Hamburglar,” Connor argues.

  “Bee Boy!”

  “Hamburglar!”

  I push him and he laughs for the first time today. Connor and I have never been able to agree on David’s nickname. I prefer the one I gave him when he wore a yellow-and-black shirt the day we first met in fifth grade. He had been bumped up to a sixth-grade science class and was nearly in tears about forgetting his homework. Connor would rather play off David’s last name, Goldberg, and his favorite food, hamburgers. “Give it up, Red,” I say, making up a nickname for him.

  “Hey, only my uncle Bill can call me that, Little Drummer Girl.”

  “Hamburglar doesn’t even makes sense,” I insist. “It’s not even a word.”

  “Yes, it is. It’s the giant talking hamburger from the McDonald’s TV commercial. Grace actually came up with it, not me.”

  At the mention of Grace’s name, our smiles fade. Leo steps in and says, “All right, all right, you guys will have to agree to disagree. Let’s go do some eating!”

  David leads Leo toward a large buffet table and Connor trails behind. I hope he’ll still be able to have a good time with Grace on his mind.

  Rory runs over and grabs my arm. “Tell me everything!” she says, dragging me into the crowd. We weave our way through the dancers, balloons, and laughter floating around us. Six blown-up photos of David from when he was younger hang on the back wall. I stop to look at one of him with his father in a park somewhere warmer than here, judging by the palm trees in the distance. David looks about four or five. He’s tossing a baseball to a tall, handsome man in a white baseball cap. They’re both laughing. I glance at Rory. She’s peering intently at something in the photo.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  She points to David’s father’s left hand, the one without the baseball mitt. “Look at his hand, how he’s holding it really close to his body. He’s in pain. His disease must have started to get worse around then.”

  I see what she means, but I never would have noticed it. That’s one of Rory’s special gifts. She sees things others miss. A few of Mrs. Goldberg’s friends come over to admire the pictures and we step aside.

  “C’mon,” Rory says. “I want to hear what happened and we need to find Tara. She has big news.”

  Finding Tara should be easy. She’s the tallest girl in the room, except for the grown-ups. Plus she’s wearing my sister Kylie’s dress. I spot her next to her cousin Emily.

  Tara catches sight of us, too, and runs over. It’s still weird seeing her in light blue. All she ever wears is black or brown with the occasional gray thrown in. “Guess what?” she says. Then without waiting for an answer, she shouts, “We’re moving here! To Willow Falls!”

  “What? That’s great!” I join her as she jumps up and down. The stupid blackboard hits my chin but I don’t care. Even though we’ve known Tara for only a few weeks, it was a pretty intense few weeks! I think we’re the first group of friends she’s ever had, and that makes it really special for all of us.

  “My parents just told me after the service!” she says, beaming. “There’s a house for sale right around the corner from my aunt and uncle’s!”

  “Which means right around the corner from David, too!” I tease.

  “I guess it is,” she says, as though she hadn’t thought of that.

  “Apple Grove looked amazing this morning,” I tell her. “I bet he loved having his service there. It was a really great thing you did, putting that together.”

  “He seemed happy, right?”

  Rory reaches out and squeezes Tara’s hand. She blushes. I know how it feels when p
eople ask me if I like Leo, or if I like him, like him, so I won’t ask Tara if she and David are out of the friend zone. I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.

  “C’mon,” Rory says, “let’s go down the hall to talk. I took a babysitting class last year in a room all the way in the back. I’ll bet it’s empty.”

  “One sec,” I say, reaching into my bag for my phone. I text Leo, who is across the room stuffing his face at a buffet table.

  OKAY TO TELL RORY AND TARA?

  I watch as he shoves the rest of the food in his mouth and pulls out his phone. A second later he replies.

  YES. STILL NOT DAVID, RIGHT?

  I pause over the keys, then write:

  I THINK WE’LL KNOW IF IT’S RIGHT TO TELL HIM.

  I’m about to put the phone away when it dings again.

  DAVID TOLD ME HE AND HIS MOM ARE GOING UPSTATE TO SEE HIS DAD TOMORROW. THEY’LL BE GONE A FEW DAYS, SO WE WON’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT.

  PERFECT.

  I put my phone away and convince them to wait a few more minutes while I get something to eat.

  “Spill,” Rory says when the three of us are finally hidden away in the back room.

  So in between bites of French fries and hamburger sliders, I spill. I tell them what Angelina told us about failing to give Grace the benediction and about how she’s in this frozen state. I tell them about the flash drive Leo “borrowed” and about how we need to go back to Grace’s past birthday parties to fix what went wrong. Neither of them pushes me for the details of why we’re able to do this. When it comes to our dealings with Angelina, we all respect one another’s privacy. After the initial gasps of surprise at hearing that we’re going back in time, that such a thing is even possible, Rory asks how they can help.

  “I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “I have no idea what to expect.”

  “What happens if you run into yourselves?” Tara asks.

  “We won’t,” I promise her. “We’re only going to be at Grace’s parties and I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I’d gone to one before.”