by Eric Bernt
He stepped in front of Eddie’s wheelchair. “Not without being escorted by my men, you’re not.”
Skylar stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“Perhaps the rules have not been explained to you.”
“Who the hell are you?” She studied him angrily.
“Yancy Packard, new head of security.”
“Well, Yancy, why don’t you enlighten me?” She was indignant.
“Please forgive my being blunt, Dr. Drummond, but in matters pertaining to security, this facility is mine, not yours.” His tone was not in the slightest bit arrogant. In fact, he continued to sound very eager to please. “My only objective is to maintain the safety and security of you and all your patients. I will be happy to arrange a car that will take you anywhere you’d like.”
“I don’t want a driver. I prefer to drive myself.”
“I would prefer that one of my men drive you.”
“Nobody rides in the car with us.” She said it with finality. The young doctor was only going to be pushed so far.
“Then I will arrange for an escort vehicle to lead you on your way. Would that be acceptable?”
She paused, pretending to think it through. Of course she knew they wouldn’t be allowed to leave the facility without armed guards. But her objective had been achieved. She and Eddie would be alone in her car, which had been towed back to Harmony House the day before. The drive would give him the time he needed to work his wonders on his device without prying eyes. The echo box would be fully functional by the time they reached their destination, which was just over two hours away.
CHAPTER 113
Route 323, Saylan Hills, Pennsylvania, May 29, 2:53 p.m.
Saylan Hills, Pennsylvania, was 117 miles from Woodbury, New Jersey. It took exactly two hours and nineteen minutes for Skylar and Eddie and their escort vehicle to reach the city limits. Or, more specifically, to reach the lone traffic light that marked the town’s eastern border. It was a small farming community surrounded by rugged mountains full of coal and other greenhouse-gas-producing minerals.
Eddie sat in the back seat with his devices beside him as he took in the scenery outside his window. “It looks like I remember from the last time I was here. Most of the buildings are the same, except that barn. It used to be red.” He pointed to a faded yellow barn in the distance. “That field wasn’t planted with corn. It had rows of string beans. My grandparents said the people who owned the field wouldn’t mind if I picked some to take home with me.”
“Did you?”
Eddie shook his head. “My father wouldn’t stop the car. He said we didn’t have time.”
“How old were you the last time you were here?”
“I was seven years, three months, and nineteen days old. My father had asked Nana and Papa if I could live with them, but they said no. Their house used to be right over there.” He pointed to a large field now planted with corn. There wasn’t a structure anywhere near where Eddie was pointing. “It’s quiet here. I think I would have liked living with my nana and papa.”
“If you had lived here, you most likely would have never gone to Harmony House, and we might never have met.”
“Then I am glad I never moved here.” He stared at an old church in the distance ahead of them. “Is that where we are going?”
“I believe it is.” She followed the Harmony House security vehicle as it turned into the church parking lot, passing a sign that read: “St. Christopher’s Episcopalian Church, Founded 1907.”
“Where was the church before 1907?”
Skylar smiled. “It hadn’t been built yet. Founded is another way of saying when it was built.”
“Then that’s what the sign should say.”
She studied the church, which was a small wooden building with a slightly sagging roof. Dilapidated, but charming. “This church is over a hundred years old. There must be a lot of echoes inside it. Will that make it more difficult for you to reconstruct the ones you want to hear?”
“As long as I know the date and time the echoes I am trying to reconstruct were first heard, it should not be more difficult than in any other building.”
Skylar parked beside the security vehicle. She turned toward Eddie as the Harmony House guards approached their car. “Remember, keep acting until I tell you it’s okay to stop.”
Eddie nodded. “I will remember.” He put on a glazed, vacant expression.
Skylar got out of the car and opened the trunk, where she had stored the wheelchair Eddie supposedly needed. The guards asked if she would like a hand, but she declined. Skylar positioned the chair outside Eddie’s door and helped him into it, putting the devices on his lap. He clutched them like security blankets.
As she wheeled him toward the church, the guards remained with them. One in front, one behind. They were clearly well trained and took their jobs seriously. Which was why they reacted strongly when Skylar informed them, “You will not be coming inside the church.”
“Doctor, our instructions are to remain with you wherever you and the patient go.”
“The patient’s name is Eddie. His grandparents are waiting for us inside this church. It’s the first time he will have seen them in almost twenty years. The whole point of coming here is for Eddie to feel as comfortable and safe as possible. Your presence is working against everything I am trying to achieve.”
The guards looked to each other, and then surveyed the surrounding environment. There were no trees within a hundred feet of the church. There was no way to enter or exit the building without being seen. “We’ll wait for you by the exits. How long will you need?”
“As long as it takes.” Skylar wheeled Eddie inside the church as the Harmony House guards took up positions at opposite corners of the building. Inside the church, an elderly couple was sitting in the first pew as Skylar and Eddie entered. The couple stood up immediately and turned to face them. The man’s face was weathered from decades of farmwork, but he still looked warm and kind. So did the woman, particularly her eyes, which lit up the moment she saw Eddie.
“Is that my grandson?”
Eddie did not respond. He stared vacantly until Skylar leaned down and whispered to him that it was okay for him to stop acting. “Yes, it is. Is that my nana?”
“Your one and only.” She moved to him, but her husband grabbed her arm, a reminder that their grandson was not comfortable with physical contact and that she shouldn’t try to get too close.
Skylar stepped toward them.
Eddie’s grandfather extended his hand. “I’m Bert, and this here is my wife, Charlene. You must be the doctor we spoke with on the phone.”
Skylar shook hands with him firmly. “I am. Skylar Drummond. Thank you so much for seeing us.”
Charlene replied, “No, thank you. It’s been so long since we’ve been able to see our grandson. We’ve honestly had no idea how to get in touch with him, or even how to find him.”
“His father never told you where he’s been living?”
Bert answered, “We haven’t spoken with Victor since the last time he was here with Eddie, when he was just a boy. That visit didn’t go so well.”
Eddie chimed in. “That was the time when he asked if I could live with you, and you said no. He also told me I couldn’t pick any string beans because we didn’t have time.”
Regret was evident in Charlene’s face. “At the time, I just didn’t think we could have handled the extra responsibility. You understand . . .”
Skylar sympathized. “I do. I honestly think you made the right decision. He’s been living in a facility that is uniquely suited for his needs.”
Eddie added, “Harmony House is a special place for special people.”
His grandfather didn’t like the way that sounded. “Is it some kind of, you know, one of them institutions?”
Skylar nodded. “It is. But Eddie’s right. It really is a special place.”
His grandparents clearly weren’t buying it. “Why is he in a wheelchair?”
Skylar answered, “It’s merely a precaution.”
Eddie stood up, clutching the laptop and the echo box. “I’m acting.”
His grandparents looked both relieved and confused. Skylar interjected quickly. “So, you said this was the last place you remember Eddie’s mother singing?”
Bert nodded. “Michelle sang here with the choir most every Sunday from the time she was twelve.”
Eddie looked around the church’s interior walls, imagining the many, many ECHOES bouncing around the building’s surfaces. He placed the devices on the floor and turned on the laptop. “She sounded like an angel, didn’t she?”
His grandmother smiled. “A lot of people thought she did.”
Bert looked suspiciously at Eddie and his devices. “What’s he doing?”
“It’s a little hard to explain. But like I said on the phone, it would be really helpful if you could recall a specific date and time when she sang here.”
Charlene handed a weathered photo album to Skylar. “It might seem a little silly to you, but I was so proud of my daughter that I kept every program that included Michelle’s name.”
“That doesn’t seem silly at all.” Skylar flipped through the pages of paper programs. Most were from the church, but others were from high-school performances and community functions.
Bert turned to watch the echo box as the device sprang open and the eight satellite microphones started their synchronized dance. “What’s that thing?”
“It’s an echo box.” Eddie kept his eyes on the progress bar on his screen as the device acoustically mapped the room. Seventeen percent . . . twenty-two percent . . . twenty-nine percent . . .
“It’s a what?”
Skylar jumped in. “It will be much easier if he shows you. Eddie, is it working?”
He nodded, still watching the screen. “Forty-three percent. Forty-nine percent.”
Skylar turned toward Bert and Charlene. “Did Michelle have an unusually strong sense of hearing?”
Charlene answered, “You mean like Eddie’s? No, not that we were ever aware of.”
“She did have perfect pitch, though,” added Bert. “For as long as she lived in Saylan Hills, nobody’s piano was ever out of tune.”
Skylar flipped to the last church program, which was in the middle of the photo album. The pages of the last half of the book were all empty—a reminder of the young life that was cut short.
Eddie looked up from the laptop. “I’m ready for a date and time.”
Skylar studied him. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He nodded slowly. She read the date of the last program. “July 26, 1987. It was a Sunday. The concert started at two p.m.”
Eddie entered the date and time, looking to study the particular waves. The only problem was there weren’t any. The three-dimensional representation of the room on-screen was empty. He immediately panicked. “There aren’t any waves!”
She moved toward him, preparing to hold him if necessary, when she noticed something on the screen. She pointed to it. “That’s because you put in the wrong year, Eddie.” He had accidentally typed 1897.
He quickly typed in the correct year. On the computer screen, the three-dimensional representation of the room immediately filled with all varieties of sound waves. Eddie hit “Play.”
The congregation was heard murmuring as they settled into their seats. Then a pastor welcomed friends and family members to their annual summer concert. His voice had very little distortion, thanks to the acoustic nature of the room.
Charlene was taken aback. “That’s Pastor Maxwell’s voice. But he died several years ago.”
Bert asked, “So how can we be hearing him like he’s standing right here in front of us?”
Eddie began his lecture. “The science of acoustic archeology has been around for quite a while.”
Skylar cut him off. “Think of the echo box like a special kind of tape recorder. Instead of being able to play back sounds that were recorded, the echo box can re-create sounds from the original sound waves still bouncing around, even though they never were recorded.”
Bert listened to the pastor addressing the congregation. “This is for real?”
Skylar nodded. “Eddie has spent his life developing the echo box so he could hear his mother’s voice.”
Charlene turned toward Eddie. “Well, for goodness’ sake, fast-forward the thing about thirty minutes ahead, then. Our pastor had a tendency to ramble on a bit.”
Eddie did so until a single sound wave appeared on the three-dimensional rendering. He took a deep breath and hit “Play.”
The next sound he heard was the single most beautiful thing he would ever hear. It was the voice he’d been waiting to hear his entire life, and it came through loud and clear:
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
Bert and Charlene both had to sit down immediately. Their legs practically buckled. Bert searched his pockets for a handkerchief as tears rolled down his face and clearly weren’t going to stop anytime soon.
Skylar’s chin trembled as she watched and continued to listen. Eddie’s mother did indeed sound like an angel. It was no exaggeration. She had never heard a voice like it. Those who had heard her in person had not lied.
Eddie stared at the pulpit from which his mother had sung. It was as if he could see her there now, standing before him. Singing with all her heart. As if she had never left. As if she was singing to her one and only child. Her beautiful and unique baby boy.
It was clear that Eddie wasn’t only hearing her voice. He was feeling it. As he turned to Skylar, a single tear rolled down his cheek. And then another. And then the floodgates opened. He touched his wet cheek with his finger and examined his fingertip. With great pride, he said, “Happy tears.”
Skylar nodded, also crying tears of joy as they listened to the angel’s voice. Eddie’s angel. Whatever was to come, whatever would happen, Skylar had done something good. She had not failed him. She had not broken him. She had helped Eddie achieve his lifelong dream. He had heard his mother’s voice like she’d promised he would. His joy was her joy, and it was pure. The hole in Skylar’s heart, the one that she had carried around since the death of her little brother, now seemed just a little bit smaller. And it felt absolutely wonderful.
Through many dangers, toils, and snares
I have already come;
’Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
And Grace will lead me home.
CHAPTER 114
Harmony House, Woodbury, New Jersey, June 1, 10:12 a.m.
Several days later, the last of the morning dew had evaporated from the rolling lawns surrounding Harmony House as Eddie and Skylar took their morning walk to nowhere. It was already part of their daily routine. They moved slowly, enjoying the crisp morning air. At least, Skylar was. Eddie was busy rotating his head from side to side. “The birds are happy this morning.”
“How can you tell?”
“They’re singing.”
She closed her eyes, listening intently. “I wish I could hear them, too.”
He continued listening to the birds. “Why do you think I can hear so much more than everyone else, Skylar?”
“That’s a good question.”
“Why is it a good question?”
“Because it’s something I want to know the answer to as well.”
“Well, you know what they say, ‘Great minds think alike.’”
Skylar paused, dumbfounded. “Eddie, you do realize that’s an expression.”
“Yes, I know.” A devilish look came over his face.
“I thought you didn’t like expressions.”
“I don’t.” He paused, waiting to see if she would understand his intent. “It was a joke, Skylar.”
She shook her head, marveling. “Will wonders never cease.”
“I hope not.” They ke
pt walking.
Later that morning, Eddie waited in the cafeteria lunch line with the rest of the Harmony House patients, along with the nurse’s aides who selected the food for those not capable of choosing for themselves. Binder #138 was tucked under his arm, and there was tissue paper sticking out of his ears, just like there always was. It was Thursday, and that meant lunch consisted of chicken tenders, french fries, canned corn, and several different Jell-O options for dessert. Today’s choices included yellow, green, and red. Eddie was thankful that the Kraft food company did not make purple Jell-O, or if they did, that Harmony House never served it.
Jerome smiled at Eddie from behind the counter. “What’s up, Eddie?”
“Fluorescent lighting.” He looked up to the ceiling. “It makes an annoying buzzing sound, which is why I always have tissue paper in my ears during mealtime.” He pointed to the tissue, which was not difficult to spot. Eddie made no effort to conceal it.
“I was getting worried about you, man. Didn’t see you around here for a couple days. You doing okay?”
“I’m doing much better than okay, Jerome. I am doing great. Can you guess why?”
“Because we’re serving your favorite dessert, yellow Jell-O?”
“I got to hear my mother sing. She really did have the voice of an angel, just like people said.” He was beaming.
Jerome glanced over to his boss, Ida, who did not seem pleased to see him chatting up this particular patient. Jerome backed away, clearly moving on to other business. “I’m happy for you, man. Let me know what you think of the Jell-O.”
“It will be my pleasure,” Eddie replied, and then carried his tray to a table. He placed the binder next to his tray and methodically moved the food items onto the table. He spaced each plate evenly distant from the others, then sampled the food items, recording the score of each in his binder. The chicken tenders got a four; the french fries a three; the canned corn a two, which was why he spit it back out onto the plate; and the Jell-O a five. He savored every last bite of the dessert, and looked back to the counter to see if there was any more. Had there been, Eddie would have certainly gone back for seconds.