Jackson Jones

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Jackson Jones Page 12

by Jenn Kelly


  “Can I visit again?” he asked.

  “Only if you find us.”

  “How am I supposed to find you? Do I just climb into Great-Aunt Harriett’s hair again?” But Meeka had slipped the glasses off Jackson’s head, and he saw nothing but hair. “Meeka? How am I supposed to find you?” he called out. But a big wad of hair went in his mouth, and he started to choke. Jackson felt little hands on his back, and he was shoved hard.

  Chapter 67

  In Which Jackson Hits the Floor

  Jackson hit the floor with a thud.

  “Landth thaketh alive, child! Can’t you aim bettaw when you faww out of bed? You almotht few on me!” Actually what she said was, “Land’s sakes alive, child! Can’t you aim better when you fall out of bed! You almost fell on me!” but I’ve translated for you. Again.

  Jackson opened his eyes. He was in his room, on the floor. Great-Aunt Harriett stood over him, her eyes peering at him quite intently.

  “Who’s Josh?” he blurted.

  Her eyes cleared for a moment. “Josh,” she whispered. The look was gone, and her eyes clouded over again. “Well, let’s go downstairs,” she said. “I need some medicine for my awful headache. What dreams I had!” she said. She trudged toward the door and she paused. “Josh,” she whispered. “Such dreams I had.”

  She shook her head and scuffled down the hall.

  Chapter 68

  A Chapter that Has a Key, a Book, and a Picture

  Jackson! Breakfast! Hurry up and get dressed!” his mom called from downstairs.

  Jackson saw the satchel beside him on the floor. It was worn and dirty and the strap was ripped. It couldn’t have been a dream, could it?

  Jackson quickly shoved his hands in his pockets, searching.

  He pulled out a key.

  A plain, old-fashioned, gold key.

  He grabbed his satchel and ripped it open, trembling with anticipation. He pulled out the Book and two white stones. He opened the Book’s pages and a picture slipped onto the floor. Jackson picked it up. It was a picture of a house. The house where he met Rayaa and Eleissa. In the picture, the front door was covered with huge, wispy cobwebs attached in six different spots with gargantuan, hairy-backed spiders waiting for their lunch. The house had big boards nailed across it. And a skull-and-crossbones sign beside it. There was even a big hole in the porch floor.

  “Jackson! Let’s go!” his mom yelled.

  Jackson tucked the Book into the makeshift tent on his bunk. He changed out of his pajamas into jeans and a T-shirt. He pocketed the key and the two stones. He tossed his sneakers into his closet.

  And he went downstairs.

  Chapter 69

  In Which Jackson Has an Idea

  Where did you get that?” his mom asked.

  Jackson was eating whole-wheat blueberry pancakes with dark maple syrup. The picture was propped up on the table beside him.

  “Oh…um…nowhere. It’s just a picture of a house,” he said.

  “Hm…It looks really familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen that house before,” she thought aloud.

  The house did look familiar. Jackson couldn’t shake the feeling that he had also seen it before, somewhere else.

  After breakfast, everyone agreed they would go out shopping. Jackson asked if he could stay home. His mom looked at him with a raised eyebrow and then said, “We’re only ten minutes away, so if there are any problems, call me. And Mrs. Smith is home next door if you’re desperate.”

  Jackson barely heard her, because he had just had an idea.

  He waited until his family climbed into the car and drove down the street. He went into the living room and sat down on the floor in front of the wall unit. He opened the cupboard door and pulled out all of the photo albums. He flipped page after page, looking at old photos. He had definitely seen that house before. Somewhere.

  Two hours passed and Jackson was fed up. But in a nice way. Like when you’re just tired of looking. Not the kind where you start throwing things because you’re frustrated. (Which by the way, is a rude way of behaving, and there is absolutely no reason for behavior like that. Just ask your mom.)

  Jackson pulled out the last photo album.

  Of course the photo was in there. How could it not be? It was the last photo album. Things are never in the first place you look, always the last. If only there was a way to look at the last place you would look first, and not the other way around, then you would save a lot of time in finding things.

  Jackson saw it.

  The House.

  Jackson held up his photo beside it. It looked the same. Except that the front door in this picture was a perfectly good way to go in. It didn’t have huge,

  wispy cobwebs attached in six different spots with gargantuan, hairy-backed spiders waiting for their lunch. And the door didn’t have big boards nailed across it with a skull-and-crossbones sign beside it. The big hole in the porch floor didn’t exist. This house was quite lovely. And there was Great-Aunt Harriett, standing on the pathway. She was smiling. Her hair was surprisingly short. And beside her on the grass was a little bassinet. Jackson took the photo out of its sleeve and turned it over. Harriett and Josh, summer of 1960. Jackson’s jaw dropped. Was Josh…was Josh really Great-Aunt Harriett’s son? What was he doing in her hair? Jackson was very confused.

  At that moment, everyone came home. It was chaos. The dog barked, Jackson’s little sister was crying, his dad tripped over the barking dog and spilled the bags of groceries, and his brother ran to the washroom…chaos. Jackson’s mom came into the living room where Jackson was sitting.

  “Anything happen while we were gone? Did the mail come?” she stopped and looked at him curiously. “What are you doing?”

  “Mom, did Great-Aunt Harriett grow up in this house?” he asked, showing her the photograph.

  She took the photo from him and studied it quietly. She smiled wistfully. “I had forgotten about that house. It was a great house. I used to spend my summers there when I was a little girl. Aunt Harriett had the most beautiful gardens and so many birds. I used to think she had every bird in the world in her backyard. And she had that crazy cedar maze. I used to love playing there. Josh and I…” she trailed off.

  “Who’s Josh?”

  She cleared her throat. “Josh was Aunt Harriett’s son. He died very young. Awful car accident. It broke Aunt Harriett’s heart. She was never really the same after that.”

  “Do you think the house is still there?” he asked.

  “I doubt it, honey. It’s been so long. It was probably sold and the property turned into a mall or a car lot or something.” She gave the photo back to Jackson.

  “Can we go look?”

  “Oh, buddy, it’s pretty far. I don’t think it’s there anymore.” And then she looked at Jackson.

  Sometimes, just sometimes, your mom gets it. She just has to look in your eyes, and she knows how important something is to you. She knows that it is something you just have to do. And at that moment, Jackson’s mom got it.

  She smiled at him. “I’ll get the car keys.”

  “Can Great-Aunt Harriett come?”

  She paused. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. It might hurt her heart to see her house gone. And it might bring back some unhappy memories about Josh.”

  “Please?”

  “Okay, go get her. I’ll start the car.”

  Chapter 70

  A Chapter that Involves the High Price of Lattes

  Jackson ran up the stairs and found Great-Aunt Harriett packing her bag.

  “Great-Aunt Harriett, would you like to go for a drive?” he asked.

  “Yes, (I translated again for you so we can finish this story and get on with our school day, work day, life in general…) yes, I do hear the birds! They are so lovely this time of year,” she said. She stood up and looked out the window. The soft breeze blew, but nary a hair on her head moved.

  Jackson took her hand and carefully led her downstairs. “Yes, Great-Aunt Harriett,
the birds are lovely this time of year. Why don’t we go for a drive and look for them?”

  “Coffee? I don’t want to go for coffee! Land’s sakes, child, it’ll me keep me awake until next week! And the prices for a chai latte! Ridiculous, if you ask me!”

  Chapter 71

  A Chapter that Involves Anticipation, a Car Ride, and Cow Poop

  The car ride was very long. Jackson sat in the back seat, alternatively looking outside and at the two photos he held in his hands. The rows of houses gave way to trees, and the trees gave way to open fields. Farmhouses with red roofs and red barns with tall silos could be seen in the distance. The smell of cow poop hung in the air. The pavement soon turned to tar-and-chip roads and then to dusty gravel. During all this time, Jackson entertained many, many thoughts. Such as:

  I wonder if the house is still there. I wonder if it has changed much. I wonder if I can visit Meeka again. How on earth am I going to climb back into Great-Aunt Harriett’s hair? I wonder if she’d notice. Gosh, I am so tired! I can’t let my mom know that I’m tired because then she won’t let me read in bed anymore! I don’t know if she’d even believe me if I told her where I’ve been! Or maybe she would. Huh. I wonder if the house will be the same on the inside. I wonder if Eleissa will be in one of the rooms, reading her big book. I wonder if Rayaa will be outside hunting crubbies? Do crubbies actually exist? Did I just dream all of this? How could it be a dream if I’ve got a key and two white stones in my pocket? I wonder if I can see Meeka again. Why did I see Josh if he died so many years ago? Am I losing my mind? What if I turn out like Great-Aunt Harriett and don’t know a tuba from a bassoon? What is the cosine of 7.88? And how do you say ‘couch’ in Spanish?

  And so on.

  But the one thought that returned, the one thought that made him hold his breath the whole way there, figuratively speaking, of course, was, I hope the house is still there. Jackson was on the edge of his seat with excitement, fear, and expectancy. It just has to be there. It just has to…

  They turned a corner.

  Chapter 72

  A Chapter that Has More Words in the Title than in the Chapter

  There it was.

  Chapter 73

  In Which a House Is Found

  The house was faded red brick with a wraparound porch covered with peeling white paint. There were weeds blocking the path from the road to the door. The roof’s black shingles were curling back with age. The trees out front were overgrown and ugly. The house was old and tired.

  It was beautiful.

  Jackson jumped out of the car and ran up the weedy path.

  “Jackson! Be careful!” his mom cried out.

  Jackson leapt up the front steps, avoiding the large hole in front of the door. He brushed off the wispy spiderwebs and flipped away gargantuan spiders with hairy backs. He feverishly pulled at the boards nailed over the door, and they came away in his hands. He turned the doorknob and…

  He stood in the hall. A long hall with faded ultramarine blue walls. Little red tables covered with thick dust lined the hallway. Above the little red tables, faded mirrors hung on the walls.

  Jackson smiled. He took a deep breath and coughed. The place was filthy.

  “I don’t believe it.” Jackson’s mom stood beside him in the hallway. “I haven’t been here in a really long time,” she said looking around. She took a few steps toward a mirror and, raising her hand, swept away the grime. She looked into the mirror intently, very quiet. She didn’t move.

  “M-mom?” Jackson asked hesitantly.

  Her eyes turned to him and she looked surprised to see him. She looked back at the mirror. “Huh.”

  “What do you see?” Jackson whispered as he took her hand.

  His mom smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “Just remembering, stuff.” She laughed out loud, running her hand through her hair. “I’m getting old.”

  Jackson hugged her. “You’re not old to me.” She hugged him back tightly.

  “I am getting old…” she looked back into the mirror. “Find your story,” she whispered softly. She turned back to Jackson. “I’d better go get Aunt Harriett. She might have fallen down a hole or something.” She winked at him and went outside. Jackson looked into the mirror. Looking back at him was a rather plain-looking boy ten-and-a-half-years old, one who was no longer friendless. Jackson put his hand in his pocket, squeezed the two white stones, and smiled.

  He walked down the hall toward where Eleissa’s room should have been. He saw the blue wall and walked toward the door. He took the handle and turned it, holding his breath, hoping.

  The room was filled with books sitting neatly on their bookshelves. The windows were dusty. He could almost see Eleissa’s tent filled with pillows. He could see her reading her book and then looking up at him with her wise blue eyes.

  “Jackson! Come on outside!” his mom called. Jackson smiled at the room. Then he went outside.

  He followed the porch around the side of the house and saw the cedar maze. It was tall and overgrown. The tops were uneven. Great-Aunt Harriett stood at the gate, her old gnarled hands holding the rails.

  Jackson walked to Great-Aunt Harriett, staring at her. She looked different. She seemed…taller. Was that possible? Her hair was, well, shorter. If that’s even possible.

  Her eyes shone. “I remember…can you hear the birds? Jackson! I have to see the birds!” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it urgently. Jackson dug into his pocket and held out the gold key. She looked down at it and began to laugh then took it carefully from his hand and put it into the lock. The gate swung open. She stepped down the back porch steps and turned right toward the maze. Jackson and his mom followed.

  Great-Aunt Harriett walked faster and faster. She walked with determination and purpose. Jackson had to run a little to keep up. He didn’t want to lose her in the maze.

  Great-Aunt Harriett laughed. “They might still be there!” she cried out, and started to run. Jackson followed her with his mom following behind.

  They turned a corner and…

  There it was.

  Chapter 74

  In Which Birds Are Very Loud

  The birdcage. The big, beautiful, golden birdcage.

  But it was dirty.

  And rusted.

  And empty.

  Great-Aunt Harriett ran up to the cage, and her old fingers clasped the bars. She closed her eyes and smiled. “Listen,” she said. “You can hear them singing.”

  Jackson looked into the sky and the trees, but he didn’t see any birds. Great-Aunt Harriett’s eyes were squeezed shut as she listened intently. Jackson closed his eyes, straining to hear. It was very faint at first, but the sound grew louder. The singing penetrated his heart. He opened his eyes and gasped.

  There, inside the open birdcage, were many, many birds. Not the birds he had seen on his adventure, but birds nonetheless. They were singing, their voices in harmony with each other. Great-Aunt Harriett laughed. She laughed so hard that she lay down on the ground. Jackson and his mom lay down beside Great-Aunt Harriett. The three of them looked up into the sky.

  “Just seeing this house brings back a lot of memories,” his mom murmured. Jackson turned his head to look at Great-Aunt Harriett.

  She looked so different—beautiful almost. Her hair no longer resembled a wedding cake. It spread loosely around her like a halo. Her eyes were closed, and she was smiling. She looked peaceful. She opened her eyes and looked at Jackson.

  “I wonder if it’s still there,” she whispered.

  “If what’s still there?” asked Jackson.

  But Great-Aunt Harriett didn’t answer. She sat up and pulled herself effortlessly to her feet. She walked back into the cedar maze and chose an opening.

  Jackson got up and followed her. Her fingers trailed along the cedar walls, as she hummed to herself. Jackson kept following.

  Great-Aunt Harriett turned left and there…

  …was a potting shed.

  Chapter 75

  In Which
Jackson Finds Another Door

  Gray moss grew on the faded black roof. The windows were covered with dirt and the garden boxes were full of weeds. The door was a chipped blue, tucked into weathered cedar planks. Great-Aunt Harriett trembled beside Jackson. She handed him the key.

  “Will…will you unlock the door, Jackson?” she asked, her voice high and excited and terrified all at once.

  Jackson took the key from her trembling fingers and slid it into the lock. It stuck for a moment but then turned. The door swung open. It was very dark inside. And musty. And dirty. Jackson sneezed.

  Great-Aunt Harriett stepped inside. She stood for a moment, looking at her surroundings, then quickly strode to the windows. She yanked open the shutters and a bit of light came through. Jackson saw a little potting table and chair in the corner. The top of the table was dirty, and the soil smelled musty and dank. Empty pots lay on their sides, and stacked piles of pots waited to be filled.

  Great-Aunt Harriett knelt down in the dust and swept away the dirt with her gnarled hands.

  “Help me,” she cried urgently.

  Jackson knelt down beside her and swept the dirt away with his palms.

  And found a door in the floor!

  Jackson grabbed the handle and pulled. Locked.

  Great-Aunt Harriett reached around to the back of her neck and undid a necklace. A charm hung on it. A small key. She put the key into the lock and turned it. Jackson lifted the handle and the door opened.

  Chapter 76

  A Chapter that Involves Another Place

  Jackson peeked into the hole below but saw nothing. “What’s down there?”

  Great-Aunt Harriett smiled, tears running down her face. “Another place,” she said. Jackson looked at her in amazement. She wasn’t lisping anymore! How? What? Why? Huh.

 

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