by Elbel, Joy
“Mom, you are a genius!” I blurted out then felt awkward for having said something like that in front of Shelly again. So I quickly issued an apology.
“Stop it with the apologies already! In case you forgot, I was adopted as a child. The people who raised me are my parents but I will always be curious about the biological ones who left me for dead. I understand the thoughts in your head better than you think I do. Now tell me what it is about that little brown bird that has you so excited! He looks pretty ordinary to me.”
“He may look ordinary but check out his name and where he’s supposed to be.”
Shelly read through the bird’s description and remained confused. “It says he’s indigenous to Costa Rica. Don’t even think for one second that you’re going to go flying off to Costa Rica by yourself, young lady!”
“I won’t need to go to Costa Rica. I have everything I need right here. You’re overlooking the obvious. Try again.”
Shelly pulled my laptop closer to her and concentrated on the screen. The second she found what I’d been trying to show her, I could see it on her face.
“It’s a Clay-colored Thrush! Clay is the key here! You may not be able to get in to see Zach, but Clay can! And you’re right—your mother is a genius!”
Now that Shelly had solved the riddle, it was time to invite my spectral ace in the hole to the conversation. “Oh, Cla-ay! I need a favor from my favorite ghost in the whole wide world!”
Within seconds, Clay came strutting through the kitchen, fluffing his collar like the true lady’s man that he was. “You always keep coming back for more! You just can’t resist my charms, can you? But don’t forget that I’m taken now. You had your chance, remember?”
I nodded my head and laughed. Clay had that kind of effect on me. I could always count on him to say something unexpected that would put a smile on my face. Now I needed him to help me do the same thing for Zach.
“Yes, I remember it well. Waking up to your ghostly behind in my bed is a moment that won’t easily be erased from my memory. Nor the time you so lovingly began hijacking my dreams. I think Sophie is much better equipped to handle a man like you. But…I could use a huge favor from you right now.”
Clay grinned and took a seat at the table. “You know I’m always around to help you, Ruby. Scout’s honor.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear! Remember that little reconnaissance mission I sent you on a few months ago? To spy on Zach? Well, I need you to up the ante on that just a bit. Are you in?”
Before Clay could reply, Shelly let out an exasperated sigh. “I wish I could see and hear you, Clay. Ghosts should come with subtitles like those avant garde foreign films your father hates, Ruby,” she grumbled. “Hearing only half of a conversation gets kind of annoying, you know?”
“Sorry, Shelly, but half of the time I forget that Clay is dead.”
Halfway through my sentence, he knew what I was going to say next and echoed my own words back to me at the very second I said them myself. Clay was like a brother to me. A brother who liked to flirt and was once very deeply in love with me. Scratch that. That was a terrible analogy and I got an icky feeling for even thinking of it that way. Clay was one of my biggest supporters but very much paranormally friend-zoned for eternity. There, that sounded much less gross and definitely more accurate.
“Okay, Clay, here’s the deal—Zach is locked up in the looney bin and he isn’t allowed to have any visitors. At least not living ones, that is. I need you to get in there and try to talk to him, get him to open up to you. You’re my only hope for figuring out what’s wrong with him. Will you do it?”
“It’s a sad state of affairs when a dead guy is your only hope. You do realize that, right?”
He didn’t wait for me to respond. Instead, he whiplashed me with another unexpectedly sweet pledge. Moments like these made me sad that someone with his incredibly good heart met with such a violent and untimely end.
“Don’t worry, Ruby. I know how much you love him. If there’s anything I can do to help, you know I’ll do it. Scout’s honor.”
“Thanks, Clay. I don’t really have a script for you to read from. You’re going to have to wing it once you’re in there. Try to befriend him—show him that you’re on his side no matter what he says to you. Above all else, go with the flow. Don’t make him mad if you can help it. I’m trying to help him—not make things worse. If it starts to get ugly in there, get out. And report back to me as soon as you’re done.”
“Okay. But before I go, let your stepmom know that I sure am glad that I can see her—she is one fine cougar!”
I giggled uncontrollably as he made a clawing motion in the air as a visual representation of Shelly’s new feline status. Clay smiled back, nodded his head, and then closed his eyes. He didn’t have to concentrate to find me but he did when it came to finding anyone else. I was thanking my lucky stars that Zach was able to see him now too because there was a possibility of an actual conversation between them even if all I got was random guy talk. I needed to know what was lurking in Zach’s thoughts—good or bad.
After Clay was gone, I relayed his side of the conversation to Shelly—including the fact that he thought she was hot. She was visibly flattered but vehemently denied it, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red the entire time.
“So now what?” she asked, obviously trying to change the subject.
“So now we demolish that pizza and we wait for him to return.”
And demolish it we did. There wasn’t a single crumb left to attest to the fact that it ever existed in the first place. We talked about anything and everything but Zach while eating. It was only after our dishes were rinsed and in the dishwasher that I posed what must have seemed like a very odd question to her.
“Shelly, do you ever think about time travel? You know, whether or not it’s possible?”
I thought she was going to drop the fresh glass of wine she’d just poured herself and not because she was intoxicated. No, she was well aware of the weirdness that was me. She knew that I had a valid reason for asking such a strange question. And that’s what probably frightened her the most.
“No,” she replied cautiously. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, something happened to me while I was at that hotel in Pittsburgh—something I gave zero credence to at the time. But when that incident was alluded to by Salma in Sedona, I started to question it. If I tell you my theory, will you promise not to think that I’m crazy?”
“Of course I will. I’ve already accepted the fact that you’re different than most people. In fact, I kind of like that about you. Whatcha got for me this time?”
Having finally built up enough courage to take a closer look at the newspapers given to me by that odd little man over breakfast, I rushed out to the foyer and returned to the kitchen hauling my suitcase along with me. They were buried at the bottom—where I intended for them to stay until I could destroy them. But now, I was wondering if they were given to me on purpose. Maybe they, too, were a sign from Mom on which direction I should turn to help Zach. I didn’t want that direction to be backwards, but I needed to face the fact that that very well may be what I would have to do.
I dug systematically through all of my stuff until I found what I was looking for. Handing the newspapers to Shelly without giving away any clues, I simply said, “What do you think of these?” She took a few minutes to inspect both of them, and then answered cryptically.
“What am I supposed to be thinking about them?”
“I won’t answer that question—at least not yet. First, I want your unbiased opinion of what you’re holding in your hands.”
“Unbiased? Honestly, what I see here is a newspaper from decades ago that is in too good of condition to be authentic. And a copy of the New York Times from a couple days ago. But obviously, you see something different so you’re going to have to explain it to me.”
“Okay, I will. But don’t be surprised if you’re skipping the glass and drinki
ng straight from the bottle by the time I’m done. And don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”
Shelly took my warning seriously. “I think I’m going to sit down for this one—with this glass of wine in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. Do you want some? Chips not wine, of course.”
“Of course. And yes, chips are the perfect ‘dessert’ after pizza, right?” I said, forcing a laugh even though I felt completely serious on the inside. The mere thought of time travel frightened me yet if it was what it took to save Zach, I was more than ready to do it. I think.
So with that, I launched into the account of what happened at the hotel and Salma’s quote regarding Nestor and newspapers. I felt slightly foolish, I have to admit, until Shelly pointed out something that I had missed.
“Wait a second—equations, you said? He said he was going wherever the equations took him, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Turn to page 5 of Saturday’s paper—the one he gave you on Friday. In the meantime, I’m going to the New York Times website to see if any of what’s in your paper corresponds to what they have.”
Page 5. I leafed through until I found it and at first found nothing out of the ordinary. Until I looked closely. In a very small, tight hand-written script, I found figures and numbers woven into the typewritten words themselves. It would take a trained eye or a mathalete like me to realize that hidden in those lines was an equation. Was that old man crazy or a total genius? Or might they, in fact, be one and the same?
“Oh my God….” Shelly’s words trailed off into nothing leaving me with one conclusion. The paper I received on Friday correlated with the news that was actually reported on Saturday. But that’s when something else took my attention completely away from random equations and time travel.
Clay appeared suddenly in the middle of the kitchen looking confused and slightly angry. Angry at me.
“I don’t know whether to trust you or Zach. And I don’t like being caught in the middle. I need time to think about this. I’m sorry but I have to go now.”
“Clay! Wait!” I shouted as he disappeared from sight. I called his name repeatedly but he never reappeared. What exactly did Zach say to him that made him question me? And how was I going to win back his trust—and by him, I guess I meant both Zach and Clay.
Were love and friendship both nothing more than equations that needed to be solved? I couldn’t handle it. My brain decided to shut down for the day. Instead of my calculator, I reached for the chips. No more going with the flow for me tonight. Instead, I was hell bent on drowning my sorrows in saturated fats. Universe, one; Ruby, zero.
6. Backfire
I rolled over quickly, fists drawn and ready for a fight. Even once I saw who that voice belonged to, I wasn’t sure if I should back down or hold my ground. Clay Roseman, after all, was more Ruby’s friend than he was mine. Did she send him here to torture me now that she was unable to do it herself?
“What are you doing here?” I asked suspiciously. Clay wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier by any means. If his visit was her doing, I wasn’t going to have any problem getting the information out of him.
Clay leaned casually against the door frame and combed his fingers back through his hair. “I heard you were depressed so I thought I would come try to cheer you up. You know, so the doctors would let you go home sooner.”
“I see,” I answered, still eyeing him up cautiously. “So what are you waiting for? Say something that will make me laugh.”
Clay delivered a stupid joke about two potatoes walking into a bar that was barely even funny but I laughed anyway. That’s when I realized how much I missed having friends. Boone and Rachel were so far away now. The only person I had in my life was Ruby. But she was the enemy now. I couldn’t hold it all inside anymore—I let Clay have it.
“If you feel bad that I’m where I am right now, you need to go talk to that bitch ‘girlfriend’ of mine. She’s the reason I’m losing my marbles. Did you hear that part of the story too? No, she would never admit what she was doing to me to anyone—not even you.”
As my words sunk in to him, I could see that I was slowly winning him over so I kept at it.
“That’s right, she tortures me night and day. She does and says things then denies that it ever happened. She wears new clothes and perfume but pretends that she didn’t. She barely ever sleeps in the same bed with me. I think she met someone else while I was in California but she’s too selfish to let me go. She wants to eat her cake yet still have it too.”
Silence filled the room but the look on Clay’s face spoke volumes. He was starting to believe me. For the first time ever, I had the upper hand with her. I was going to turn her little minion against her one word at a time.
“You’d be sitting right where I am if Sophie pulled these kinds of tricks on you. You’d never want to see her again—yet all the while, her face would be the only image in your brain. I don’t know why she wants to destroy me. All I know is, if I can’t get her out of my heart, I at least have to get her out of my head.”
Mentioning Sophie was the last nerve I needed to hit to gain his trust. He wandered across the room and sat down on the bed beside me. “I don’t know what else to say but I’m sorry, Zach. You’re right about Sophie, too. During that time we broke up, she was all I could think about. I started to self-destruct because I blamed myself for losing her. What do you think happened to cause the breakdown in your relationship? You guys always seemed so solid.”
“It all seemed to start when she showed up in Chicago but I suppose that was just when I began to notice it. She’s probably been letting go for months now but I didn’t realize it. I’m not the same guy I was before I got shot. She makes seeing ghosts look easy but trust me when I say that it’s anything but. I can’t handle it as well as she can. She probably decided that she wanted someone normal—I have too many issues, too much baggage. But I’m dying here without her.”
“I hear ya, bro, I hear ya.”
Clay and I talked for quite some time about relationships and how girls seemed to think that we, as guys, didn’t have the same feelings that they did. It was a good conversation. Just as he was about to leave, I dropped the big bomb on him. The one I’d been saving for just the right moment. And when I was done, I had him right where I wanted him. Little Miss Psychic was never going to see this one coming. She sent the wrong minion in to destroy me. Clay was going to help me get rid of her for good. He just didn’t know that yet.
7. Riding Out the Storm
“What just happened there?” Shelly asked. “What did Clay say that got you so upset?”
“He popped in here rambling something about not knowing who he should trust—me or Zach. He said he doesn’t want to get caught in the middle. Then he vanished and won’t come when I call him. What in the world did Zach say to him to make him doubt me? And without Clay, I now have zero chance of communicating with Zach. I have to accept defeat—there’s no other option.”
“You can never see the forest for the trees, can you, Ruby? There’s an obvious option here that you’re failing to acknowledge.”
“And? Are you going to tell me what option is or am I going to have to play twenty questions to get the information out of you?”
I thrust my hand down into the bottom of the potato chip bag to get the last few full chips before dumping the crumbs directly into my mouth. When I heard Shelly’s next words, I almost choked on them.
“Patience. You have to have patience and ride out the storm. You expect everything to happen at the specific time you’ve set for them to occur and in the exact way you want them to. Zach is somewhere safe—you don’t need to worry about him at the moment. And you know without a doubt that Clay will be back to help you as soon as he figures things out. In the meantime, you need to get out of your head for a while. I swear—overthinking will be the death of you.”
Patience. The very word itself felt like a giant monster choking the life out of me. And, for real,
I couldn’t seem to go a day without hearing someone tell me that I was too impatient and that I needed to slow down. But how? How could I stop being who I was? It was like expecting me to change the color of my eyes on command. It simply wasn’t possible. I gave a grade A eye roll as I threw the bag into the garbage. That’s what I thought about patience—it was pure garbage.
“Talking about patience tries my patience, Shelly. Let’s talk about something less controversial—something more along the lines of time travel and newspapers from the future. If I could travel through time, patience would become an irrelevant concept.”
“Whoa, don’t go revving up that Delorean just yet, Marty McFly! While I admit that the newspaper thing is completely bizarre, I seriously don’t believe in time travel. Time is fluid—it ebbs and flows. It isn’t a concrete object that can be maneuvered around. Once a moment is gone, it’s gone and it can never be recaptured. But in the event that I’m completely wrong, travelling to the past is even more off limits than Costa Rica is!”
Well, obviously time travel was also a controversial subject. We made a few more attempts at conversation but those topics failed as well. No, I didn’t know that Rachel was in town but talking to her about Zach wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. I didn’t have enough energy for that tonight. And yes, I was well aware of the fact that sooner or later I was going to have to tell Dad about tracking down Mom’s past. But again, not tonight.
Finally, I decided to give in to the jet lag. I was tired and cranky and overwhelmingly impatient. Sleep was the only remedy for that. At least for the tired and cranky parts. There was no magic cure for chronic impatience but maybe there needed to be. I was too exhausted to head to my old room in the attic so I camped out on the couch in Shelly’s study instead.
While punching the pillows to make them less stiff, I thought about the last time I slept in that very same spot. It was a little over a year ago but felt like a lifetime away. That night, I slept downstairs because of the ghost inside my room. Tonight, I was trying to escape the ghosts inside my head. Back then, I feared what would happen to Zach if I got to close to him. Now, I was dealing with the polar opposite of that. And it hurt. Bad. How was I going to save him if I couldn’t get close to him?