Dreamer, Wisher, Liar

by Charise Mericle Harper

  “Well?” I asked.

  Claire shook her head. “I’m only allowed to tell you when we’re one block away.” She got on the back of the bike and clamped her lips shut, so the secret couldn’t come out before she wanted it to.

  “Bye, girls.” Peter waved and we pedaled off, but as soon as we were a block away, I stopped the bike and turned around to look at Claire.

  Claire waved a five-dollar bill in the air. “Peter said we should have a snack with this money. It used to be yours, but now it was his, so you have to listen to how he wants us to spend it.”

  I smiled. Peter was full of surprises. “What kind of snack should we get?”

  Claire decided in two seconds. “Cupcakes!”

  When we got home, Mom was in a battle with the garage. She had stuff all over the driveway. She said she was enjoying herself, but she didn’t look very happy. Maybe she was finally realizing it was all junk. Claire was excited about a pair of old stilts that were sitting by the door, so Mom said she’d watch her if I wanted to go inside and do some writing. I felt bad tricking her again, but the pull of the jar was too much. I couldn’t stop myself. Guilt is a funny thing: you can feel it but still decide to do something that makes it worse. I left them, walked inside, and went straight down to the basement.

  I pulled out the wish jar and sat in the chair. I was nervous, but excited too. I wanted to see Miss Sato and Mr. Gripes again. Now that I knew it was them, would it feel different? Would something special happen? I moved my hand through the wishes and picked one out. I was hoping for an Anderson’s wish, and before anything could stop me, I opened the wish and read it.

  Please Don’t Let Ashley Be Dead

  WHAT? I couldn’t watch this! But it was too late to stop it. Suddenly I was back on the sidewalk where I’d first met Ashley and Shue.

  I almost couldn’t think of a test word, but then it popped out: “Fuchsia rat.”

  I said it quickly and quietly. Nothing had happened, but I was already worried and feeling sick. I wanted to know and not know what was going to happen, both at the same time. Knowing won. I kept my eyes open. Ashley was with her two friends—the ones from before, the ones I didn’t like—and they were walking away from Shue. It looked like they had just passed each other. Ashley’s group was crossing the street, and Shue was walking toward me on the sidewalk. Something shiny in the road caught my eye. Ashley had dropped it. It sparkled in the sunlight. She didn’t notice and her group continued walking, but suddenly she turned, looked at the road, and ran back into the street. A second later there was a screeching of brakes, a thud, and then silence. And after that, yelling and screaming. I couldn’t breathe—I felt dizzy. Everything swirled around me in slow motion: I was going to faint. I doubled over and covered my ears. I hummed loudly, blocking out everything. There was chaos all around me, but I couldn’t hear it. I didn’t want to see anything, but somehow after a minute or two I straightened up and followed my feet forward.

  A car stopped in the middle of the road, and everyone was crowded around the far side of it. I looked down, and there next to the car, partially under the front wheel, was a silver necklace with a half-circle pendant on it. Ashley had been going back to get it. It was proof that she still cared. I heard someone next to me; it was Shue. She reached for the necklace and then stopped—if she pulled it, it would break.

  We stood there, not moving, surrounded by chaos, staring at the necklace. Paralyzed. I heard sirens in the distance. I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to see anything. I was scared, shaking, and beside me I could hear Shue crying. Suddenly she screamed, and I was gone.

  The pain coming back was the worst yet. My blood felt like it was on fire, streaming through my body, burning me from the inside out. When I finally had the strength to look at my hands, I was surprised that they weren’t red and raw. They looked perfectly normal. I forced myself to breathe in and out. The pain was over, but I was not okay. I closed my eyes, but suddenly I was afraid of the dark. I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. Instead I focused on my hands, slowly relaxing my fingers one at a time until I was no longer gripping the chair. I leaned back and stared up at the ceiling and noticed for the first time the dark wood beams and spiderwebs above my head.

  What I did next I can’t explain. And if I can’t, no one can, because I alone was responsible. I leaned forward, pulled out a wish, and read it. Just like that. After all the pain, and in the midst of sadness, that’s what I wanted.

  I Wish I Hadn’t Gone to Ashley’s House

  I was still shaking from the last wish, but somehow seeing both Ashley and Shue standing together again helped. Shue was on Ashley’s doorstep, and Ashley was in the doorway. The door was half closed like she was keeping Shue out, or maybe she was trying to hide behind it. This was before the accident. I wasn’t sure how I could tell, but I could. I sighed and stepped forward. I hated these doorstep visits; they always ended badly. I said my test words, but without enthusiasm.

  “Turquoise rabbit.” I had a feeling it was going to be the only bright spot of the whole wish.

  Ashley shook her head. “I can’t come out.”

  Shue smiled and nodded. She took a step forward. I could see that she thought that she was going to be invited in. Ashley moved behind the door and closed it farther. This was unexpected. Shue stopped. Suddenly there was the sound of laughter from inside the house—girl laughter.

  Ashley looked nervous. “Pam and Cathy are here. They’re my high school friends.”

  For a few seconds neither girl moved or said anything. I was tired of this. I wanted to go up to Ashley and shake her. Tell her she was being stupid, and petty, and cowardly. Why couldn’t she be friends with everybody? I noticed that Ashley was still wearing the necklace. Did Shue see it? It made me mad. She didn’t deserve it—and then I remembered the accident. Maybe she was dead, and if so, it was because of the necklace. What did that mean? It was too much to understand. I closed my eyes for a minute. When I opened them, Shue was walking away, and the door was closed. Something had happened, and I’d missed it. I knew what was coming next. I closed my eyes and held my breath. It was like standing inside a furnace: it probably only lasted seconds, but it seemed longer, and then it was over. Painful and shocking, but not as bad as the last time. I sat back in the chair and rested my head on the cushion; a second later Claire was shouting.

  “HE’S HERE! HE CAME BACK! YOUR DAD! HE’S HERE!” It was a proclamation—like something miraculous had just happened, and she couldn’t believe it. It made me happy. It made me sad. But mostly, it made me feel lucky.

  chapter thirty-six

  Mess

  The yard was a mess. Mom had stuff everywhere, and she wasn’t handling it well. Junk out in the open is different from junk hidden away. It was how I felt too. Like suddenly there was too much of everything. And then Dad walked in and saved the day. Well, not really, but having him home changed things, and seeing him made me realize how much I had missed him. Mom seemed better with Dad around, too. That night we all went to Fannucci’s, and it was a surprise; instead of it being awful, it was great—like it used to be. And the apple pie with ice cream was even better than I remembered it.

  chapter thirty-seven

  Magic

  I slept late—later than normal. When I got up, there was only time for breakfast and to help Mom move a few things around in the yard. It was craft day at the old people’s home, and the last one Claire and I would be doing together. When I went to get my bike, I was surprised by how big the garage looked. It was almost empty now.

  Claire and I rode slowly up to the craft event. This was the last time we would do this together. The countdown had started; in two days I was leaving. It made me sad, but when I saw Sam’s bike, I forgot about that and was happy again. This time Claire wasn’t the first person going down the hall looking for Sam; it was me. He was in the room with the projector, and when he saw us, he smiled and jumped up.

  “You’ll never guess what happened.” />
  “WHAT?” shouted Claire.

  I patted her on the shoulder and told her to be quiet. The old people’s home was not a place for loud voices.

  Sam waited for me to finish talking to Claire, but he looked like he was about to explode. As soon as I was done, he started talking again.

  “Mr. Fred said that yesterday a small man—and not just a little small, but really small—came to the hospital with a box for Miss Sato.” Sam held his hand out at the height of Claire’s shoulder to show us how small the man had been.

  I knew exactly who he was talking about, but I kept quiet.

  “Did Mr. Fred see him?” asked Claire.

  Sam shook his head. “No, but the nurses did, and they’d never seen him before.” Sam held up his hands. “But that wasn’t the weird part.”

  Claire and I nodded, waiting for what was next.

  Now Sam was almost whispering. “The weird part was what was in the box.” He looked at us to see if we were paying attention.

  We both nodded.

  Claire leaned forward. “What was in it?”

  Sam held a finger up in the air and then whispered, “Two red shoes.”

  Suddenly Claire looked at me. Her eyes were wide. She was about to say something, but Sam stopped her. He held his hand up.

  “I know, it’s confusing, but wait, I’ll explain. Do you remember when I told you about Miss Sato saying raishuu?” Sam looked at Claire. “It’s the Japanese word for yesterday.”

  I nodded.

  “Well, it turns out she wasn’t saying a Japanese word at all: what she was really trying to say was ‘red shoe,’ but because of her stroke it came out all wrong. She was trying to tell Mr. Gripes where she’d hidden the key to her safety deposit box.”

  Claire interrupted. “Why is that important?” She seemed disappointed.

  I tried to explain. “It’s where people keep important papers, and money and valuable stuff.”

  “And love notes,” said Sam. “Miss Sato saved every single love note Mr. Gripes ever wrote to her. He used to put them in her shoes. Her red shoes. Isn’t that weird?”

  I nodded. I didn’t know what to say.

  Claire looked at me and then back at Sam. “Are they in love again?”

  Sam shrugged his shoulders and looked embarrassed. “Mr. Gripes is reading the notes to Miss Sato, and she smiled for the first time yesterday.”

  Suddenly Claire ran over and hugged me. She was crying. I hugged her back. Now Sam was confused. He probably was thinking we liked Miss Sato a lot more than we did. He didn’t know that the hug was for us, and all that we couldn’t and didn’t talk about.

  It was for love that was broken.

  Love that was weak.

  Love that was hurting.

  Love that was disappointing.

  And love that was friendship.

  It was for a lot of things.

  The craft project itself wasn’t my favorite. I’m not a fan of paper flowers, but that didn’t matter, it was still a nice time. Raishuu and red shoes—I couldn’t believe it. It was overwhelming; I could hardly keep it inside. Now it all made sense—the wishes, and Sam, and Miss Sato, and Mr. Gripes. I knew why it had happened. I had fulfilled my destiny. It was a relief. I tried not to think about Ashley; that was the loose end that still didn’t fit.

  Before we left, Claire invited Sam to the yard sale tomorrow. A week ago I would have been horrified, but now things were different. I was looking forward to tomorrow. I was tempted to stop by the VS Depot on the way home, to say thank you to Peter, but Dad said we had to be back by three thirty, and it was already past three. We’d have to wait until tomorrow. Maybe I could make him a thank-you card.

  As soon as we got out to the bike, Claire asked about the red shoes.

  “You sent them, didn’t you? How did you know that was the right thing to send?”

  I was ready for her question. “Do you remember the photo of Mr. Gripes and Miss Sato that Mr. Fred said was his favorite?”

  Claire thought back and nodded.

  “They were in love back then, that’s why the photo was Mr. Fred’s favorite. And in that photo Miss Sato was wearing red shoes. So I thought the red shoes might work like my treasure hat did for me. It might remind them that they used to be in love.”

  Claire stared at me, not saying a word. Now I was unsure about my explanation. Did it make sense? It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was everything—except for the wishes. But I couldn’t tell her about the wishes. Finally she spoke.

  “You’re a love detective.” And she said it like she was believing it for the first time.

  We got home superfast, both pedaling and excited about our adventure with Dad. I knew where we were going—Howling Hills. It was a huge amusement park—but for Claire it was a surprise. When she found out, she couldn’t stop bouncing up and down.

  The two best things about Howling Hills are the food and the rides.

  The two worst things about Howling Hills are the food and the rides.

  It’s not easy to get the right mix of food and rides. I was doing pretty good until the funnel cake; after that I pretty much had to keep my feet on the ground. Dad tried to get me to go on the mini swinging chairs with him and Claire, but just looking at them made my stomach feel swirly. It was too bad, because it was the last ride of the day.

  When we pulled up to our house, I hardly recognized it. Mom had been crazy busy while we were gone. There was stuff all over the front yard. She said it was too much to leave until the morning, so she had put the big stuff out now. The rest of it was piled in boxes in the driveway. It was a little hard to guess what Dad was thinking about it all. It was like he’d left town, and one kind of wife, and come back to an entirely different wife. He was probably still in shock.

  It was late, but I still wanted to go downstairs. Mom was upstairs with Claire, and Dad was looking at his computer; no one would be looking for me for a while. Would I risk the pain again? What was the point? My mission was over, wasn’t it? Maybe, but I still couldn’t get Ashley out of my head. What had happened to her? Was she alive? Was she dead? And there were so many wishes left. Why? I turned on the light and started down the stairs. Halfway down I gasped and grabbed the railing. The basement was clean! The boxes were gone. I raced down to the workbench—my chair was still there, but everything else was cleared away. I dropped to my knees and looked under the bench. No boxes! No wish jar! NO NOTHING! It was all gone! My body was shaking. I could hardly breathe. This couldn’t be the end. Mom had cleaned everything out, but it wasn’t gone. It had to still be in the driveway. I ran up the stairs and raced outside. It was too dark to see. I had to get a flashlight. I ran back into the house and straight into Mom.

  “Ash! What’s wrong?”

  She grabbed my arm and slowed me down. Suddenly I noticed I was crying. A second later I was inconsolable, head in my hands on the kitchen table. Mom tried to help. She was panicked. She patted my back and asked:

  “Is it Claire?

  “Daddy?

  “Lucy?

  “Me?

  “Are you worried about camp?”

  But I was like Miss Sato, unable to make her understand. I pointed to the door, to the driveway, but that didn’t help. Finally I let her lead me upstairs and help me lie down. If she had her own theories about my sadness, she didn’t share them. She stayed with me until I finally calmed down. I had a plan—as soon as she left I was going outside—but that never happened. I heard Mom leave, but when I opened my eyes again, it was morning.

  chapter thirty-eight

  Sale and Serendipity

  I was lying on my bed, still in my clothes from yesterday, and someone had covered me with a blanket. My eyes felt swollen and crusty. I rubbed them, but they hurt. I staggered to the bathroom; the window was open and I could hear Mom and Claire talking outside. What time was it? Had the sale already started? Then I remembered the jar. I had to find it. I changed my clothes and raced outside. Claire was emptying boxes
onto the tables, and Mom was writing down prices. As soon as Mom saw me, she stopped.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  I didn’t know if it was true or not, but I nodded. I looked around. There was stuff everywhere. I’d never find the jar on my own. I had to ask. But how? Without giving myself away? I took a deep breath and tried.

  “Did you see a jar with a nice label on the side of it? I think it said ‘wishes.’ I saw it once in the basement. I’d kind of like to have it.”

  I was hoping that sounded casual, and not like I was feeling—completely desperate. My hands felt clammy; I wiped them on my shorts. Mom didn’t say anything. She studied me for a second, turned, and walked across the driveway. She pulled a box from a pile, looked in it, and held up the wish jar. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to run over and hug her, but I didn’t. I forced myself to walk slowly.

  Mom walked the last few steps toward me and handed me the jar. I took it from her and smiled, but then froze. The jar was empty—completely empty. The wishes were gone. Instantly my throat felt dry.

  I pointed to it. “Wasn’t there stuff in it?”

  Mom waved her hand and moved back to the table with Claire. “Just garbage. I threw it in the disposal. It’s a nice jar, though.” She smiled.

  I couldn’t smile back. She had no idea what she’d done. She’d thrown them away—my friends Ashley and Shue. Now they were gone—forever. It was over. I didn’t want it to be over. I wasn’t ready for it to be over. It was another loose ending. I felt sick.

  “If you want to write for half an hour, Claire and I can handle this,” said Mom.

  I walked toward the house, not looking back. I was holding the jar like it was something precious, valuable, but it wasn’t either of those things anymore. It was just an empty jar.

  I went down to the basement, not even bothering with the notebook. I sat in the chair, but it felt strange with everything cleaned up. Too open, and unprotected. I twisted the lid off the jar. Instinctively my hand went into the jar, but there was nothing to pull out. It was empty. I felt empty too. We were one in our emptiness. I sighed, put the jar down, and dropped my head into my hands. This wasn’t what I was expecting—this ending. I stared at the ground, at the lid, and then something caught my eye. I picked up the lid. I couldn’t believe it. There, stuck on the underside edge of the lid, was one last little ball of paper. The last wish. I pulled it off and held it in my palm. Whatever it was, this was it. Would it tell me about Ashley? There was only one way to find out. I dropped it into the jar, pulled it out, and flattened it out against my knee. I wanted to remember everything. How this was feeling. I counted slowly down from ten and looked down and read it.