Secrets from Myself

by Christine Hart

  Patty treats us to a lunch of sustainable seafood and we catch the dolphin show again, viewed from outside the thick glass walls on the building’s lowest level. An aqua glow radiates from the water and I forget for a moment that what I’m staring into is a cage for one of the world’s most intelligent creatures. The thought of living in a cage for the rest of my life makes me sad, but I pull myself together and move on.

  We reach a tank of Nemo and Dory fish, or, as I quickly learn, clown fish and blue tang fish. I peer in at the adorable creatures recognizable from a childhood favorite movie. The fluorescent tank lights flicker and then go black. The darkened glass is like a mirror.

  I look at my reflection, but the face isn’t mine. I am Akasha. I look myself in the eye. I touch my lip and Akasha matches me on the glass. Her eyebrows pucker sadly. She reaches out for me and I realize I’m touching the glass, leaning in as if to hear a whisper. The tank light flickers on again. My chest thumps. I whirl around, looking at Patty, who is smiling at the fish. Mom joins us.

  “Sweetie, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” says Mom. Patty frowns at her. “Sorry, poorly chosen words.”

  “No worries. I got spooked when the tank lights went out. I’m fine,” I say, smiling. My mom is getting no new information from me.

  “Perfectly normal,” says Patty.

  “We should probably get going, though,” I say.

  Mom and Patty smile and nod.

  Chapter 18

  Arbutus House is busy with another themed movie night after my aquarium outing. I know better than to hide in my room during a planned activity, so it’s not until Sunday afternoon that I get the chance to write in my diary.

  August 3

  Akasha, I need your help. I know I’m supposed to be helping you, but you’ve got to give me more to go on. I’m trying to figure out what you wrote on my mirror, but I need Radhika’s help to do that. She’s Bryce’s mom, but maybe you already know that. I’m trying. I’m doing better than that. I’m fighting for you! I want justice for you, but I’m still fumbling in the dark to understand what you’ve shown me. I’m not greedy. Think of me as stupid. I need my hand held on this.

  Yours Always,

  Katelyn

  I close my diary and hide it back under my mattress to wait for Akasha’s answer — in whatever form it comes — or Jane’s betrayal and my diary’s discovery. It’s certainly not the most original hiding spot, but I haven’t been able to think of a better one.

  I’ve managed to center myself enough for the evening ahead of me. Bryce texted me this morning after Radhika finally translated my message. But he won’t tell me what it is because she wants to tell me in person.

  It’s an odd feeling to be leaving Arbutus House before dinnertime. Yet there is Radhika’s maroon sedan outside with Bryce in the passenger seat, exactly as before.

  “So long, guys! Enjoy tuna casserole night!” I hope I sound sincere. What I’m really thinking is, Yay! No tuna casserole for me!

  “Say hi to Richie Rich!” says Therese from her perch next to the kitchen. I simply wave back at her over my shoulder.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Mann!” I carefully close the back passenger door.

  “I keep asking you to call me Radhika. You’re old enough now.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been calling your mom Becky for a couple of years,” says Bryce.

  “That’s different,” I reply.

  “Why?” says Radhika. I can’t tell the truth, which is that Professor Mann is not the sort of person who wants children calling his wife by her first name.

  “Because I’m old-fashioned,” I say confidently.

  “You are not,” says Bryce.

  “Speaking of old-fashioned, what was the translation for the writing I found on my bathroom mirror?”

  “Somebody in that house of yours speaks Hindi and thinks you stole something from her,” says Radhika.

  “What? Neither of those things is possible. What did it say?”

  “The words in the photo you sent Bryce say, ‘Find my locket,’ or at least that’s the best translation,” says Radhika.

  How could a locket help Akasha’s cause? There must be something hidden inside. A note? Some evidence? Where would I even start? Antique shops, naturally, but without knowing what I’m looking for, it’s a lost cause.

  We file into the Mann family living room and I experience the full impact of their house’s beauty. The surfaces are all perfectly clean, from the moldings trimming the walls to the slate slabs of their fireplace. The eggshell walls have huge abstract art portraits. The ceiling feels even higher in the living room, although I could only guess — fifteen feet, maybe twenty. I had come here the first time with blinders on, focused only on getting a look at Radhika’s relics. Now, I’m just here to hang out with Bryce, and tonight that means spending time relaxing with his family. Radhika beelines for the kitchen and Bryce excuses himself, so I sit down on the buttery black leather couch opposite a huge wall-mounted television.

  I start looking around for the remote, but there’s nothing. Not like I should start watching tv anyway. A large panoramic photograph of Vancouver hangs above the fireplace to my right. A huge bay window to my left shows me both mountains and city in the distance. Beneath it all immaculate hardwood floors — real wood, not laminate — feels warm under my sock feet. I will not be asking Professor Mann what he paid for his house.

  “Katelyn,” a deep voice says briskly and I flinch. “Come, dinner is ready.” When Professor Mann asks you to do something, you don’t dawdle.

  The Mann family dining table is set with every pos-sible accessory. A centerpiece of glass orbs inside a glass ball looks as clean and new as the rest of the house. Radhika brings meat dishes, roasted vegetables, and plates of naan and roti to the table with Bryce’s help. We each get a bowl of rice before we take turns ladling food onto our plates.

  Mom’s most elaborate meals are dished up in the kitchen, onto mismatched plates, the same as any pizza night. In her defense, though, why get fancy when it’s just you and your daughter?

  I speak as little as possible during dinner, which suits Professor Mann just fine. He spends the meal quizzing Mitchell and Bryce about their summer study routines and extracurricular activities. I make a mental note to join a club or start playing a sport when I get home to Nelson.

  Bryce and I both finish our meals first and Radhika notices.

  “Bryce, hon, why don’t you take Katelyn for a walk around the neighborhood. I’m sure she’d love to see the residential side of the area rather than just the shops on Commercial Drive,” says Radhika.

  “That’s a great idea!” says Bryce.

  “Only if it’s all right for us to leave early. Shouldn’t we help you clear up?” I say, specifically to Radhika. I have a feeling most of the household chores fall to her.

  “We’ll help when we get back,” says Bryce, already standing.

  “Don’t start cleaning without us!” I say, and I laugh nervously. Radhika smiles. Mitchell and Professor Mann look at me blankly.

  I fall into step with Bryce as he heads for the front door.

  Once we’re on the sidewalk and out of earshot, Bryce gets a strangely serious look on his face.

  “I’m glad we got some time to ourselves. It’s weird now that I can’t come see you at your house — not really, anyway. But there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you. I need to confess.”

  “Oookay, you’ve got my attention. What’s been bothering you?”

  “I’d made up my mind I was never going to say anything, like, ever, and now it seems like we’ve been thrown back together even though I moved.”

  “Sorry about that, I guess I’m hard to get rid of.”

  “Don’t interrupt! This is lame enough!”

  “Fine, I’m zipping my lips.”

  “What I w
as trying to say is that I haven’t been totally honest.”

  I’m on the edge of my seat, but I won’t risk interrupt-ing again. Bryce hasn’t lied to anyone in his entire life, least of all me.

  “I kind of, sort of, recently in the last year or so, started having a bit of a crush on you. And it’s not fair to tell you now. I know it’s weird. But I started thinking that I had to tell you before I’ll maybe never see you again.”

  I stop walking and look at him with disbelief.

  “I would have asked you to be my girlfriend, even after I found out I was moving. My dad would lose his mind if he ever found out, but it’s not just that. I’m not ready to have a real girlfriend, but I wanted you to know. It’s always been you.”

  My heart and my lungs are sparring in my chest. I don’t know what to say; I couldn’t speak if I did know.

  “Uh, I’m, uh, sorry if I freaked you out there.” Bryce looks down, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

  “I’m just amazed you didn’t know I feel the same way. I’ve had a crush on you since forever. I was so sure you didn’t think of me like that, so I did everything I could to hide it.” The confession alone is like an anvil being lifted from my shoulders.

  He looks at me for a long moment, as though an inner debate is bouncing around in his head.

  “Okay. Cool.” Bryce smiles awkwardly and I return the gesture. “We should get back. Mitchell is driving you home and he likes to get to bed early.”

  We start walking back and I grab Bryce’s hand. I interlace my fingers in his and he squeezes. I’ll take it.

  Chapter 19

  I want to leave Arbutus House as soon as I wake up and spend the whole day with Bryce. If we were both back home in Nelson, that is exactly what we would do. I would pack my bag with my bathing suit, a towel, and some cash. Bryce would come over for one of my mom’s pancake breakfasts in our sunny kitchen nook. Then, after I begged her the night before, Mom would drive us north to the hot springs and we would soak and sun ourselves while Mom read a book. We would crawl into the cozy cave off the main hot pool. Bryce would hold my hand and put his arm around me until the heat and humidity of the cave made us dizzy. But we’re not home and we’re not free to do as we please. My phone jingles and I smile. I’ll settle for a flurry of texts.

  What are you up to today? Your mom is busy with work and I’ve got the day off. Patty’s cheerful message is a small let down. My heart sinks another notch realizing how selfish I’m being. Of course I want to spend time with Patty.

  I don’t have plans, but guess what! I’ve got a new lead on Akasha! It’s a long story, but I think somewhere in Vancouver a locket from around 1914 is going to help me. I tap madly on my phone, hoping Patty will be excited too.

  Sold! Let’s go antiquing and look for lockets! I’ll pick you up at 11. We can do lunch and then search. I smile at Patty’s unconditional support.

  Yay! Thank you! Antiquing sounds like fun.

  I change from pajamas into regular clothes. I rush to the bathroom for a face wash and hairstyle before I bound into the kitchen for a bowl of cereal.

  Patty arrives ten minutes early, which suits me per-fectly as I am raring to go. She’s done her research and tells me Vancouver’s antiques are scattered about the city, many focused mostly on furniture.

  “New Westminster has a great antique strip too, and I think we might see some jewelry there. It’s a bit farther away, but we’ve got a whole day to kill,” says Patty.

  “Six hours for me. I’m still on day passes,” I say.

  “Right, well, I’m sure we can be there and back in six hours,” says Patty.

  We clip along Broadway Avenue until we reach Kings-way Road, another major artery, and Patty turns right. We continue starting and stopping in the long-weekend traffic until we finally turn down a hill and pass into New Westminster. The surroundings quickly remind me of Nelson; the heritage homes are less manicured than Kitsilano and the towers are more modest.

  At the end of the hill I can see the river ahead. Patty turns into a parking lot overlooking railroad tracks and a shopping complex. I am optimistic that Patty picked a good spot to hunt.

  We park and make our way down to a street built partially underground, shielded from the main road by a steep grade and the old buildings above.

  “This used to be the loading dock for a prison down the road,” says Patty.

  “Really? When was that?”

  “Late eighteen hundreds, I think.”

  “That’s a good sign. Do you think there are some shops around here that are that old?”

  “We won’t know until we look.”

  “Lead the way.” I grin as I feel a hint of mischief bubbling to the surface.

  I follow Patty into a shop with retro furniture in the window. It does not appear to be a shop that carries jewelry, but we have quite a few more to go before the strip of stores runs out.

  “I remember these chairs,” says Patty as she sits in a vinyl dining chair. “We had a kitchen table and chairs set just like this when I was a little girl. Back in the seventies, long, long ago.”

  I browse a china cabinet full of old soda bottles and mason jars. A tall man with snow-white hair and beard looks at us over his spectacles. I am uncomfortable, but Patty doesn’t seem to notice.

  “I had a doll house just like this,” says Patty as we make our way to the back of the store. I have given up looking for jewelry in this particular shop.

  My phone jingles. It’s Bryce! What are you doing today?

  Damn it! I am stuck with Patty for several more hours. It would be rude to cut our antiquing short and ask her to drop me off at Bryce’s. My heart wrenches. I will be back at Visions Vintage tomorrow and may not see him for the rest of the week. What an agonizing week it will be. I twist and turn on the spot as I tap out my response.

  I’m already out with Patty. We’re antiquing. I’ll ask if I can have a visitor at Arbutus when I get home.

  “Hey, no phone distractions. You’re hanging out with me!” says Patty. Her voice has a tone of mock hurt and I am embarrassed.

  “Sorry, sorry. Just texting Bryce,” I say.

  “Look at this bear. This is a Care Bear. Do you remem-ber these?” says Patty as she holds a brown stuffed bear with a red heart on its chest.

  “I think they made a comeback when I was a kid,” I am trying to sound interested, but I had never been a fan of Care Bears.

  My phone jingles again, but I leave it in my pocket. Bryce knows what I’m doing now, so he won’t be offended if I don’t respond right away. Patty frowns and puts down the Care Bear.

  “Aw, they’ve got vintage salt and pepper shakers. My aunt used to collect these.” Patty looks at the little ceramics as though they were newborn kittens.

  “Should we move on to another shop? I don’t think they have jewelry here.” Patty’s frown returns.

  “Just a few more minutes. Are you in a rush?”

  “No, of course not.” I smile at Patty until she seems soothed. I follow her back around the other side of the shop.

  We exit the store and turn immediately into the next doorway. This time we are in a purely furniture shop. There are no glass cabinets with knickknacks of any sort, so I don’t look closely.

  Patty takes her time browsing until she reaches a mirror with a carved wood frame. The border has the shape of a spiral and gleams with the overhead lights reflected by the varnish. A saleswoman approaches Patty and they start to talk. I hang back on a velvety floral loveseat and sneak my phone back out.

  Bryce’s message is waiting for me. If you can’t come over today, that’s cool. Let’s try to get together one more time before you leave.

  The last words knock the air out of my lungs. I’m leaving soon no matter how much I try to forget. Nelson seems like a crater, an empty pit holding nothing and nobody of interes
t for me. Don’t worry, there’s no way I’m leaving Vancouver without saying goodbye.

  “Hey, what’s the deal? Who’s so important you can’t be with me, here and now?” says Patty.

  “Nobody. Still just Bryce. Just making plans.” I can’t bring myself to tell Patty that Bryce and I are … well, nothing yet. But someday, maybe something.

  “You guys are still pretty close, right?” Patty looks at me inquisitively. She’d like me to confide in her, but the prospect of talking about losing my best friend all over again makes my heart hurt. A lump in my throat blocks my voice. It doesn’t matter because I can’t think of anything to say.

  “I know you’ve had a tough few months, kiddo. Let’s go find you a locket.” Patty smiles warmly and softly as though she can see the sadness welling inside me. I fight back tears and rise to follow Patty back onto the shady concrete street.

  Jane’s office is muggy with heat this afternoon as I sit in her sticky vinyl guest chair. I stare at the back of her computer monitor, considering an attempt to log on and see the internet on a full screen for the first time in over a month, when Jane comes in.

  “Hello, Katelyn. It’s been awhile since our last session. Tell me how things have been going at Visions Vintage.”

  “Fine, I guess. I don’t think Noémi is very impressed with me, but I think I’m growing on her.”

  “Why don’t you think she’s impressed?”

  “It’s nothing really. I think it’s just her personality. Things are going great there.” I’m hoping to move on and wrap up our talk. My failed jewelry hunt is getting me down, but I can’t talk to Jane about it.

  “How has the rest of your social life been going? You’ve been using all your day passes.”