chapter twenty-one
Aloha
I woke up in the morning and made a list of things to not think about, and then I promised myself I wouldn’t think about them for the whole rest of the day. It wasn’t going to be easy.
THINGS TO NOT THINK ABOUT
1. The wish jar and how I can’t use it
2. The book I’m reading and how I’m not loving it
3. Lucy being gone
Today was Hawaii day, and Hawaii is fun!
I’d never been to Hawaii, but I’d seen it on TV, and I’d seen that Elvis movie Blue Hawaii about twenty times, so I felt pretty confident about being able to pull it off. Basically Hawaii is about relaxing. You lie around in the sun, you float in the water, and you eat lots of tropical fruit and listen to fun beach music. Mom had bought me everything I needed, the sun was shining, and I was in the mood for lounging. It was going to be a good day. The first thing I had planned for us was a pedicure. Sand, bare feet, nice toenails—they went together.
Claire was excited about the pedicure.
“I know how to do it,” she squealed. “You can do me, and I’ll do you, but I get to do you first! It’ll be nifty.”
I wasn’t so sure I wanted Claire painting my toenails, but I made myself be positive. Plus we were in the backyard; if it turned out horrible, no one would see it. I handed her the color I’d picked out.
I was right to be nervous; she was terrible at it. There was polish everywhere. My toes looked like they’d been in some kind of nuclear meltdown—it had been a mistake to pick blue. They were definitely not nifty, but I lied and told her I loved it. After the nails were done, Mom called me upstairs. The ladder was pulled down from the attic, and I could hear her up there rummaging around. I wasn’t crazy about the attic. It was even more disorganized than the basement, plus it smelled funny. Mom said it was just a little musty, but I didn’t believe her—it was probably a dead squirrel. I waited at the bottom of the ladder until she finally poked her head through the door.
Mom waved her hand at me and said, “Catch this.”
I put my hands up and caught some kind of large, tangled, flowery ball. I untangled it as she climbed down the ladder. Suddenly I knew what it was. It was perfect—it was the one thing I hadn’t thought of. It was two Hawaiian leis.
“Where did you get these?”
She was next to me now and smiling. “Your father and I got them from a birthday party. It was ages ago.”
Mom tried to push the ladder back up into the ceiling but fumbled with it. I looked over; she had something in her left hand. I couldn’t tell what it was, because it was small.
I pointed to it. “What’s that?”
She hid it behind her back. “I might show you later. I’m not sure.”
“Is it for today?”
She shook her head. “No, don’t worry about it. Let’s go downstairs.”
As soon as I got downstairs, Claire and I put on our leis and went outside. We had towels to lie on, Hawaiian music playing, a Slip ’n Slide, a kiddie pool with water and colored plastic fish, a medium-sized pile of sand, supplies for making grass skirts, and two coconuts—one for each of us. Claire was most excited about the coconuts.
She cradled hers like a baby. “I’m going to keep it forever.” She swung it around and danced with it.
I’d never opened a coconut before. I wanted to see the inside.
I pointed to her coconut. “Let’s break it open and eat it.”
Claire looked horrified. She shook her head, took a step back, and held on to it extra tight. “NO! You can do that to yours!”
Now I was the one shaking my head. I was saving mine for Lucy. In the end we left the coconuts just like they were, and we ate pineapple and mango instead.
I should have known, but Claire was not good at relaxing. Instead of a relaxing day in Hawaii, we had a busy day in Hawaii. We pretend-surfed on the Slip ’n Slide, made a mini sand castle with the sand, hid things in the sand, buried half of Claire under the sand, made grass skirts and hula danced, collected rocks and pretended they were seashells, snorkeled in the kiddie pool, fished in the kiddie pool, had a water fight in the kiddie pool, painted Lucy’s address on my coconut, made a bed for Claire’s coconut, and finally, near the end, lay on our towels. I was exhausted.
“This is the best pretend Hawaii day I’ve ever had,” said Claire. “Can I tell you about my favorite parts?”
I nodded. Even lying down she didn’t stop talking, but I didn’t mind. At least we were being still.
We ended Hawaii day before dinner, so there was time to mail Lucy’s coconut. This time Claire definitely wanted to come—she was excited about surprising Peter with it.
She bounced up and down. “I bet he’s never mailed a coconut before.”
I brought out the bikes so we could ride, but as soon as Claire saw them, she changed her mind and said she didn’t want to go. At first I was mad—it wasn’t fair of her to be so wishy-washy—but then I had a new thought, and it changed everything. Maybe Claire didn’t know how to ride a bike.
I pointed to the bikes and asked her, “Claire, can you ride a bike like that?”
She looked at the ground. I didn’t need any more of an answer. Riding a bike is not something you can teach someone in thirty minutes, and that’s how long we had until the VS Depot was closing. I was tired, and I didn’t want to walk, but what other choice was there? Suddenly I had another idea. I went to the garage and pulled out Dad’s old trailer bike. It wasn’t easy. It was long, and the extra half bike on the back kept getting caught on everything. Mom’s boxes of junk were like an impossible obstacle course. It was a miracle I got it out, but it was worth it, because as soon as Claire saw it, she brightened.
“I can ride that kind of bike!” She ran over and jumped on the seat at the back.
Suddenly the whole thing tipped to the right. I pushed but could hardly keep it up. Now I wasn’t so sure; I’d never ridden this bike before. What if I couldn’t do it? I made Claire get off, so I could practice riding it by myself. I rode up and down the block. Without anyone on the back it was easy, but as soon as Claire hopped on, everything changed. Now the bike was wiggly like crazy. What if I fell, crashed, killed us both?
“Let’s go!” shouted Claire; she was excited.
I was scared, but I tried. The first trip down the street was terrifying, but after a few more times of up and down, I started to feel better. And after two complete times around our block, I knew we were going to be okay.
The trip to the VS Depot was fast and easy. As soon as we got there, Claire hopped off the bike and ran in. By the time I’d parked the bike and walked in, Peter already knew about the coconut and Hawaii day. Claire was fast at sharing news.
He waved at me and said, “Sounds like you girls have been having fun.”
Claire nodded and looked at me.
I smiled. “We have.”
It took a while for Peter to figure out how to get the stamps to stick to the coconut. While he did that, Claire drew pictures of Steve on scrap paper. I was glad she was doing that instead of running up and down the ramp. I guess she was tired from our day too. Everything went smoothly until Claire saw the goldfish poster. It was good that there weren’t any other customers in the store. Not everyone thinks screams of joy are pleasant to listen to. Peter was supernice about it, though, and said Claire could have the poster when the sale was over. She was so happy, you’d have thought he’d promised her a golden pony.
I was glad that Peter didn’t bring up the Percy book. I’d been having trouble with it lately. Last night I hadn’t even read it—I’d been too tired. Next time I’d come prepared. Not that he probably cared, but I’d said I was a huge PJ Walker fan, and that’d look like a lie if I didn’t even finish the book. And so far he was right—it was getting better.
Before we left, Peter gave Claire a little pad of paper for her Steve drawings. He said it was left over from a job he’d printed. Claire is good with manners�
��she said thank you just like she was supposed to. She put the pad of paper in my backpack, and we waved good-bye. The ride home was a lot harder—it was more uphill—but Claire pedaled too, and that helped. The second we got home, Claire jumped off the bike, grabbed my backpack, and disappeared. This was no surprise, because for the whole ride home, all she’d been talking about was what she was going to draw on her new pad of paper. I could have really used her help with the bike, but I was stuck on my own. It was impossible to get it back into the garage. After scraping my leg on the pedal three times, I gave up and just leaned it against the fence. We were probably going to be using it again anyway.
The minute I walked in the door, Claire attacked me.
“Look,” she squealed. “It’s the best Steve I’ve ever drawn.” She waved the paper in front of my face. I couldn’t see a thing.
“Wait.” I grabbed her arm and held it still so I could look. It was a picture of Steve standing on a boat, and if you bought into the whole goldfish-with-legs thing, he was perfectly proportioned.
“Nice job.” I was about to hand the pad back when something at the top of the page caught my eye. It was a drawing of two little palm trees on an island. I looked closer; had Claire drawn them too?
“Did you draw those?” I asked.
Claire shook her head. “That’s on all the pages. Can I have it back now? I want to color Steve.”
Claire pulled the paper away and went back to the table. The palm trees on the island were a weirdly perfect ending for our Hawaii day. Sometimes when things are so perfect, it can make you feel a little uneasy, and that was the exact kind of feeling I was having. I felt that way the whole rest of the night right up until I crossed another day off the calendar. Knowing it was only two more weeks until I would see Lucy at camp made me instantly feel a whole lot better.
chapter twenty-two
Fishy
All Claire could talk about all morning was the concert at the old people’s home, and how great it was going to be. I was glad when it was finally time to go. At least sitting in the concert would be better than just talking about it. But I was wrong—the concert was awful. And it wasn’t just me; Claire thought so too. A lot of the old people seemed to like it, but that was probably only because they had hearing problems. We saw Mr. Fred and the grumpy man who had walked past us the other day. It turned out that he was Mr. Fred’s father and was married to Miss Sato—we were surprised about that. The grumpy man’s name was Horace Gripes, which is kind of a perfect name for a grumpy person. He was nicer today, and he seemed to like talking to Claire. Claire is like the golden retriever of people—everyone loves her.
After the concert Claire and I went outside to get on our bike. Turns out the trailer bike is a great way to get around. As I was bent down unlocking the bike, Claire pulled on my arm. When I looked up, she pointed.
“It’s Sam. He’s coming over here.”
She was good at pointing him out, but I was getting better at recognizing him too. That usually happened once I got to know someone. I made a mental list of physical traits for everyone I knew. So far Sam’s list was that his hair was always messy, his ears stuck out, he was an inch taller than me, he was slim, he liked plain T-shirts, there was a space in between his two front teeth, and he always wore black Converse sneakers. The T-shirt and the sneaker thing were the most helpful, because they were easy to see from far away.
“Hi,” said Sam. He had his arms full of stuff. It took me a few seconds, but then I realized that the bike next to ours was probably his. Not many old people were riding around on mountain bikes.
Claire was excited to share her news. “Did you know that Mr. Gripes is Mr. Fred’s dad, and that he’s married to Miss Sato?”
Sam nodded. Of course he knew; he worked with Miss Sato.
Sam looked uncomfortable. “It’s kind of weird,” he said.
“What?” asked Claire.
I pulled the chain out from between the wheels of my bike and stood up.
“Mr. Gripes doesn’t want the anniversary party, and Miss Sato does.”
I snapped the bike lock shut and put everything into my backpack. “Who’s the party for?” asked Claire.
Sam was quiet for so long that I wasn’t sure he was going to answer Claire. But then he leaned forward and whispered, “It’s for both of them, for their fortieth wedding anniversary. And I don’t think they like each other very much anymore.”
“Yikes!” I made a face.
“Exactly,” said Sam. He put his pile of stuff down next to his bike and grabbed his lock.
Claire was standing next to us. All of a sudden she looked sad.
“They don’t love each other?”
Sam shrugged. Claire didn’t say anything, but I could see it coming. She was getting agitated.
“We have to make them fall in love!” cried Claire. She moved next to Sam to convince him, but she accidentally bumped into his pile of stuff, knocking everything to the ground. The worst part was the slides—they were everywhere.
She covered her mouth. “Sorry!”
Sam bent down. “It’s okay.” That was nice of him, but it wasn’t really true; if the slides got scratched, he could get into trouble.
I bent down to help him. I felt guilty; it was kind of my fault. I was in charge of Claire. Though really it was kind of an impossible job. All you could do was follow behind and pick up the pieces.
“Can you help them?” Claire was almost crying. She looked back and forth from me to Sam and me again. “Can you make them fall in love again? Can you do it, Ash?”
She was still talking about Miss Sato and Mr. Gripes, but I knew why she was so upset. Sam didn’t, but I couldn’t explain it to him, not with her being right here. I couldn’t say, She’s kind of sensitive about love, because her parents fell out of love, and her mom ran off to be alone and was killed by a train. Sam had no idea what was going on, why she was acting so strange, but that didn’t matter. Claire was more important. I had to calm her down. I held her hands and pulled her gently down next to me.
“Okay.” I nodded. “I’ll try. But right now let’s just help Sam pick up his stuff.”
Claire nodded. She wiped her hand over her eyes. “Do you promise?”
I promised, but I crossed my fingers behind my back. I could lie to her, but not to the universe. I knew I could always get Claire to forgive me, but the universe was different. I didn’t want to mess with that. Claire picked up a slide and held it out for me. I took it and picked up a few more. Soon I had a little pile in my hand.
I handed them to Sam. “They’re out of order now, aren’t they?”
Sam nodded, but he didn’t seem mad. I told Claire to help with the other things, but to leave the slides for me and Sam. I knew she wouldn’t be careful, and I didn’t want her putting her fingers on the photos. I held a few up to the sky and looked at them before handing them over to Sam. They all had people in them, posing, smiling—captured in moments of happiness.
Claire had recovered, and now she and Sam were talking.
I wasn’t listening until Claire said, “Do you have a trampoline?”
Sam didn’t answer. I crossed my fingers and hoped that the answer would be no.
“Do you?” Claire asked him again. She was persistent. If you looked up the definition of “persistent,” a giant grinning photo of Claire would probably pop right off your computer screen.
Sam smiled. I didn’t know him well enough to say for sure, but it looked like a sneaky smile. He looked right at me and said, “No, but my neighbors do, and I can use it whenever I want.”
I knew what was going to happen next. “Bounce on a trampoline” was number eight on Claire’s list. In two seconds she was going to invite us over to Sam’s neighbors’ house. I had to stop her before that happened. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead I stared at the slide in my hand. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Claire and Sam were still talking, but I stopped paying attention; what
I was looking at was more important. It was a photograph of the back of Anderson’s. I was sure of it. It was the same building, the same Dumpster, and the same door where the boots had been. It was the exact place where I’d been with Ashley and Shue. I didn’t have building blindness. I knew I was right. The name on the building was too small to read, but I knew what it said. It had to be Anderson’s.
I looked over at Sam and held out the slide. He took it from me and kept talking.
“So just have Ash call me when you want to come over.”
Claire clapped her hands and jumped up and down. I ignored her.
“What’s that picture?” I pointed to the slide in Sam’s hand.
Sam held it up and squinted. “Oh, that’s the weird one. I was surprised that Miss Sato picked it, but she said it was important. I don’t know why—there’s not even anyone in it. Most of the other pictures have people in them.”
“Do you know what the building says?” I tried to sound casual, like it didn’t matter.
Sam looked again and shook his head. “It’s too small to read. Why?”
I didn’t want to seem desperate, but I was. It wasn’t easy to sound normal. “It just looks familiar. Can you find out about it? Can you ask Miss Sato tomorrow?”
He shook his head again. “I only come here on Mondays and Fridays, but I can blow it up on the computer tonight and look. I’m at the pool tomorrow and Wednesday, so if you come by, I can tell you what I found out.” He put the slide in the box with the others. It was a special box with a slot in it for each slide. He looked back at me. “These pictures are from a long time ago. So it’s probably not what you think it is.”
I nodded. “I know, but I’m a little curious.”
This was a big lie. I wasn’t a little curious, I was hugely curious. I tried to look relaxed, but it wasn’t easy; my mind was racing.
I was glad Claire wanted to leave; it was hard being an actress, and my head felt like it might explode.
We pedaled home in record time—even Claire said it was fast.
Dreamer, Wisher, Liar Page 10