An ancient man and three women shuffle toward us. “Here they are,” Lin says to Gram.
Gram’s still holding the teddy bear.
“These are the last of the people White Ghost saved,” Lin says.
None of them speaks English. Lin translates story after story of Grandpa Martin’s selflessness and heroism as these people are reduced to tears. I wish so badly Grandpa could be here to feel their gratitude.
“So I brought you all the way here for a couple reasons,” Gram says, pointing to all of us. “I racked my brain to think of a way to honor Martin and the people he helped.” She makes her way over to Lin and Bing. “Bing, we’ll need you to translate.” Gram straightens her tailored navy blouse and touches her pearls.
She nods toward Bing. “I would like to announce the Martin O’Neill, White Ghost, Scholarship Program. Each year, a committee, chosen by you and your children, will select a deserving young person from your village to receive full college tuition, including room and board.” She stops and waits for Bing to translate.
One of the women in the group claps. The others follow.
“I would like to appoint Martin’s son, William O’Neill, as the North Foundation point person and ambassador to your lovely village.”
Uncle Billy looks surprised.
“You good with that, Bill?” Gram says.
“Of course, Mom. I’m honored.”
“Daddy would be proud,” she says, reaching up to touch Uncle Billy’s face.
Gram motions to the people to join her on the bench in the gazebo. We’re all awkwardly standing around, ready to wrap things up, when Gram yanks the head off the teddy bear.
“What are you doing, Assy?” Wes says.
“I’m taking out Martin. Bobby, help me unscrew the top here. Surprise! Martin’s been with us all this time. Bob said I’d have to fuss with Customs if I claimed his ashes, so I smuggled him in this bear.”
My hands get sweaty. My grandpa’s charred remains are inside a teddy bear.
“I gave Martin my word I’d find a way to scatter his ashes here.”
“Here? You’re going to scatter Dad now?” Mom says.
Gram nods. Lin and the others walk toward a steep drop at the edge of the temple grounds. I guess they were privy to this information.
I stay back with Enzo. “Are you okay?” he asks.
I try to take a yoga breath, but it gets stuck. “No.”
“Maddie, you’re shaking. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to do this. I’m freaked the fuck out right now. What if a finger falls out or a toe or his nose?” I sit on the bench and put my head between my knees. Enzo rubs my back.
“It’s okay. I’m here. They’re all down at the base of the lot saying a prayer or something. It’ll be over soon.”
That was not fair of Gram to smuggle Grandpa in a teddy bear.
It takes only a few minutes. They must have dumped the whole thing over the bank, like my grandfather was the remains of somebody’s barbecue pit.
I give a weak bow to the old people as everybody says their good-byes. Now that I think of it, bowing might be more of a Japanese thing, but I can’t really keep track of Asian customs at this moment.
Jeb comes over. “This is it, Maddie. You had better get your shit together and say good-bye. He’s not waiting on the shelf in Gram’s study for you to get over your issues.” For once, my brother isn’t being an asshole. He means it. I squeeze Enzo’s hand and let go. I walk alone to the edge of the cliff.
“Bye, Grandpa Martin,” I whisper under my breath as Gram hugs Lin a few yards away. They’re two shriveled raisins in front of the orange-topped temple where my grandfather became a quiet war hero.
I write postcards to my friends on the bus ride back to meet the Wishwell. The food in Taiwan is bad, but this place is pretty cool. We should take a road trip here someday.
NINETEEN
WE ARRIVE ON the Wishwell late and go straight to Enzo’s cabin. “I need a shower,” I whisper. “So let’s shower,” he whispers back. Our bodies slide in the steam. He turns me around and holds my hands against the wall and kisses me, starting at the top of my head. I didn’t know the human body could be heat-drenched and still shiver. We move to the bed, balcony doors flung open, moonlight streaming, breeze pushing in and drawing us closer, if closer were possible.
I use my finger to trace a newly discovered constellation: Maddie Major, the perfect semicircle of freckles on Enzo’s shoulder. I can’t even think about it without the sensation spreading outward from deep inside. I’m hooked on Enzo’s smell.
We’re starving. My knees buckle a little when I get up to answer the door. Enzo jumps up and puts on boxers. By the time Camilla comes in with breakfast, he’s on the balcony, kicking a soccer ball between the chairs.
We lounge in our underwear and feed each other bites of buttered toast.
“Can I ask what happened back at the temple to upset you so much?”
He might as well get to know my crazy side.
“I used to get really freaked out about death. It started when I saw my dog get hit by my school bus. I went to therapy, which kind of helped, but then when they cremated my grandpa Martin, I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t get the image of Grandpa burning in an oven out of my head.”
“I get it.” Enzo pulls the covers up. “I have to say, being on this ship, seeing the patients, always brings back memories of Dad.” He stares at the ceiling. “Those images are tough to get rid of.”
We sit awhile, lost in dark thoughts until Enzo finally turns toward me and changes the subject. “God, you’re beautiful.”
I burrow under the covers and lay my head on his chest. His heart beats against my ear.
Before I sleep, I think of Holly. When I was little, I was afraid that if I looked at a sick or disabled person, I would become one. I knew it was weird and wrong to feel that way, but I couldn’t help it. Now I would give anything to look Holly in the eyes and tell her how brave she was and how her spirit inspired everyone. There will be a flood of emotions when we meet back up with the others. And there will be a life-size void where her chair belongs.
We’re all gathered on the pool deck, swapping stories. It seems like baby Grace got bigger and more adorable while we were gone, and Paige says she has a big surprise for us.
“Go ahead, Gracie. Go see Uncle Babysitter.” Grace toddles with a determined expression into the arms of a very emotional Wes.
“Yay, Gracie,” we all cheer. “You walked!” She laughs and claps, very proud of herself.
It almost seems the same, with Burt making fart jokes and Gram gesturing dramatically as she describes our thong swimsuits. It almost feels normal, with Jeb trying to hide his obvious interest in Camilla, and Mom gushing over Gloria’s snorkeling pictures. But something is off. The patients are weaker, grayer, yellower, quieter. And soon they will all be gone.
The elephant in the room hovers over our Wishwell reunion like a sinister pervert waiting for the right time to grab another innocent ass.
“Tomorrow’s my birthday,” I say to Enzo.
“I know tomorrow’s your birthday. I wish I could take you to Paris for the night.”
“I’ve had enough jet-setting for a while. I’ll settle for cupcakes.”
“Come on, we have to have a party. Eighteen is big. Let’s make you a birthday playlist to get you in the mood.”
“That would require getting out of bed. Although I do need a break. You’ve worn me out.”
“Would you believe you’ve worn me out, too?” He gets up and smooths down his hair in the mirror. “Let’s have a Wishwell day.”
We go up to the deck and steal pizza from the Ornaments while they play pool volleyball with Burt and my uncles.
“That’s it. A pool party,” Enzo says. “I’m sending out an invite.”
“Do you think that’s appropriate at this point in the trip?” I step into the Grotto.
“Sure. Things will be pretty unevent
ful until after Wishwell Island.”
“What’s the point of Wishwell Island, anyway?”
“Life. That’s the point. Mum created the ship so people don’t have to suffer in the end, but the goal of the Wishwell movement on the whole is to prevent diseases altogether.” Enzo looks down at his bee. “They actually have a party invitation app on these things.”
“Enzo, focus. I want to hear about the island.”
“They recruit the best doctors and scientists and grow plants from all over the world. They’re trying hard to find cures for cancer, neurodegenerative diseases, addiction, everything.”
“Who is ‘they’? Who pays for all of it?”
“Loads of people donate. It’s the best-known secret on earth. A lot of them donate in memory of family members. You know, like-minded people who believe life is more important than stuff. Right they are, huh?”
“Right they are, old chap.”
Enzo looks down at his bee. “Oh, no. Astrid’s mad at me.”
Enzo had invited the entire ship: You are cordially invited to a pool party in honor of Maddie O’Neill Levine’s 18th birthday. Cupcakes. Good music. 8 pm tomorrow.
Gram texted Enzo back: Enzo, we had planned to surprise Maddie with a formal dinner dance in the dining room and a proper cake for her 18th birthday. Astrid
I text, Gram, I want the pool party and cupcakes and 18-year-old music. Nothing proper. And no chicken feet. Love, Maddie
Gram texts, Suit yourself. But I’m bringing chicken feet.
Crisis averted.
I officially meet Heinz in the poker room after dinner. He shakes my hand and tells me he’s pleased to meet me. He and Vito are buddies now, and Vito has enlisted him to take down Dad and Bob in poker. I don’t know what to make of him. He doesn’t look like a scary Nazi. But nobody looks scary at ninety-three. He just looks like Gollum with heart failure.
When I stop by to tuck her in, Gram informs me that Gollum is kind of sexy. I inform her that slugs stuck to mushrooms are sexier.
“Happy birthday, you big whore bag!” Janie tackles me.
“You’re in a good mood.”
“Of course. It’s your birthday.” She throws a gift bag at me.
“I kind of forgot to get you something. But this is from Rachel and the E’s.”
There are two boxes inside. One is a book of photos from the E’s. The card says: By now we are living in a postapocalyptic world and only Maddie can save us. Come home, birthday girl!
The shower turns off. “Don’t come out naked,” I yell to Enzo. “We have a visitor.”
“Come out naked,” Janie yells.
I can tell Rachel wrapped her own gift because she wraps like a toddler. It’s a pair of granny underwear. Very clever. By now you’ve probably ruined all your pretty lace thongs with your Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Happy Birthday, Mads. Love, Rach.
“You guys have to stop with the IBS jokes. I’ve practically outgrown it,” I whisper.
“Oh, please. You’re the IBS poster child,” Janie says, just as the bathroom door opens.
Janie leaves me flipping through my birthday album with towel-clad Enzo.
“That’s Lizzie on our first camping trip.” I laugh. “This was taken after she got lost and claimed a possum showed her how to get back. And this is all of us at the lake.”
“Who’s the guy groping you?”
“That’s Ethan, my ex. He’s an idiot.”
Enzo grabs his crumpled shorts from the chair and pulls out a red velvet drawstring bag from his pocket. “I saw this in London and thought of you.”
It’s a delicate silver bracelet with a single starfish charm.
My eyes start to fill with tears. “I love it.”
“Why are you crying?”
“I just love it. Thank you for getting me.”
“You’re welcome, Maddie.”
Gram has arranged a refined-young-lady lunch on her balcony. I can’t stop touching my starfish bracelet.
“You outdid yourself, Astrid,” I exclaim in my country club accent.
“Wes did most of it.”
“Assy just barked orders from the chaise.” Wes jumps up and lifts me off my feet. “Happy birthday, gorgeous.”
They’ve hung tissue paper lanterns and set the long table with china and bud vases filled with flowers.
We eat omelets, potatoes, and fresh blueberry muffins. Mom and Dad sip “water with gas” and gaze at me with stupid smiles.
“I can’t believe our baby is eighteen. We are so proud of the lovely, smart woman you have become.” Dad raises a glass, and we toast to youth and good health and long life.
Uncle Billy sticks a candle in my muffin and they sing at the top of their lungs with Aunt Rose and Jeb two full beats off.
“Gifts, gifts,” Mom says.
Bob gives me a picture of us all on the Spanish Steps in a silver frame, and Aunt Rose gives me a bejeweled bookmark she made in the craft room. Uncle Billy and Wes give me a “Welcome to New York” gift card basket, and Mom and Dad give me an IOU for a future road trip with the E’s, all expenses paid.
This gift would have been a life-changer two months ago.
Jeb hands me a key.
“What’s this, Jebby? The key to your heart?”
“No. It’s a key to my apartment, in case you get lost in Brooklyn or chased by a predator.”
“Aw. That’s sweet. Thank you. Of course you know I’ll be stealing food.”
“I don’t have food.”
“My turn. It’s age after foolery,” Gram says. She hands me a package wrapped in plain brown paper. I open it slowly because I know it’s the last birthday gift I will ever receive from my grandmother. It’s a hard-cover, brand-new copy of Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth. I flip through and see that Gram taped a picture of the two of us in the lava tube inside the front cover. The words written on the next page pull at my heart:
Darling Maddie,
You are eighteen, which means you are still a baby and don’t know a thing about anything. But trust me when I say you are special. There is a light in you that guides people through things they can’t possibly get through alone. I know this, because I am one of those people. If Snaefellsjökull is a mystical place, you, my dear, are a mystical person. Be brave. Be adventurous. Let people come to you. You’ll derive power from your own light. And I will be an eternal starfish chafing your ass all the years of your life. I love you, beautiful girl.
Gram
“Not fair, Gram. I can’t sit on your lap anymore. You’re too scrawny.” I’m sobbing. I kneel down on the floor and plant my head on her bony legs and cry until she tells me to get ahold of myself. Janie and Wes are crying, too, raining tears on my birthday parade.
“Okay, stop. I’m dying, not paying full price for theater tickets. Enough with the tears.” Gram pulls me up by my hair. “People are going to think I’ve pissed myself, and the one thing I have left is a stellar bladder. Light the muffin candle, Wessy. We forgot about the birthday wish.”
I look around through my puffy eye slits. My family is trying their best to smile, to give me a good birthday. I don’t want to screw up this wish. I got stupid and cynical and didn’t wish for anything in Rio. I wished for Enzo to come back to me in Rome, and it came true. It’s so much pressure. If Gram getting better were remotely possible, a wish might just make it happen, and the nightmare would be over. If only.
The logical answer hits me. I know my wish.
Enzo bursts onto the balcony. “Is there any food left?” Everybody shushes him.
“She’s wishing,” Wes mouths.
It’s done. Now I wait.
Mom rests her head on my shoulder. I let her because Gram says I need to let the people come to me. Thanks, Gram. I can already feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.
“How common do you think it is to get hepatitis from tattoo needles?” I ask Janie and Paige. We’re in the cabin, getting ready for the party. Paige is mixing marga
ritas on the balcony.
“Not very,” Janie says. She stops what she’s doing and looks at me and my scrunch face. “Don’t go there.”
“Go where?”
“Enzo doesn’t have AIDS, you freak.”
But Paige nods at me like she understands. “I used to constantly worry about drunk drivers. I hardly went out at night because I didn’t want a drunk to ram into me. And guess what? I ended up with a brain tumor. You never know what’s going to hit you.” She pours salt on her hand, licks it off, and throws back a shot of tequila. “The moral of the story is don’t worry.”
I shake my head.
“What? Do I sound too much like a mom?”
“No, you sound drunk,” Janie says. “You’re a lightweight.”
“You just made me do three shots in ten minutes,” Paige says.
“I don’t like drunk drivers either,” I say, before taking a yoga breath and following Paige and Janie to my eighteenth birthday party.
The wheelchair brigade files in, with Gram now joining their ranks. She finally succumbed to the wheelchair, saying that she prefers to save her legs for dancing and lovemaking.
I stand behind the potted plants and take it all in for a minute. I had always imagined celebrating this birthday with my friends at the lake club under the stars. I would dance all night with the E’s and make out with some guy and probably end up skinny-dipping in the lake.
But here I am. There’s paralyzed Mark, and his oafish brother, and bald Gloria with her minister husband. There’s Vito with his oxygen tank, and the Ornaments with their hearty laughs and Queens accents, and a guy who might possibly be a Nazi. And there’s my thirty-three-year-old sorority sister, Paige, and Lane and Janie and Ty and my family—my crazy lovable family. I look at them all and then think about Enzo, who will be here any minute. And I can’t believe I’m even thinking this, but this party is better than the one I pictured for all those years.
The Loose Ends List Page 19