Have I made a terrible mistake? Should I call it off? There’s still time.
No.
I push aside my worries. I turn the car back on and head toward home. Nothing is going to stop me.
Wishing is cloaked in secrecy. And tomorrow, I’m going to bring those secrets to light.
Chapter 28
Countdown: 3 Days
You grow up in Madison, you know what it feels like to wait. Your life is one big countdown. I hear that on your actual wish day, each hour feels like a week. An endless stretch of checking watches and clocks and cell phones, making sure time hasn’t stopped, reassuring yourself that your wish hour is getting closer.
That’s how it is for me the day of the Drosophila-Mucker Clash.
I pace my room. Don’t bother turning on the radio. All I can think about is getting through the next minute and the next and the next. Stay calm. Don’t think too much about what I’m on the verge of doing, because thinking too much, well, that can make you lose your nerve.
Merrill blows up my phone with text messages about how we need to talk. I’ve never wanted to talk to him more in my life. I’m about to become one of the rogue wishers Merrill’s spent his life preaching about, and I want to let him in on the scheme.
I push aside that feeling by thinking about him and Norie at prom together. Thinking about him and Norie after prom. Doing God knows what. Without me. Because what place do I have in their lives now?
Merrill doesn’t deserve to know my secrets. I don’t respond to his messages.
While my parents eat lunch and talk about the upcoming game, I dig around in my closet for an old backpack I haven’t used for years. Then I go into the garage to gather my dad’s tools. I put the TV on as cover. There’s a recap of the UFO festival on the news. For a moment, I watch the footage of people wandering around Rachel, looking for something spectacular. I try to spot myself in the crowd. Would I look like another UFO hunter or could you see that I’m about to betray the town I call home? The news cuts back to the studio, and the anchor moves on to the next story.
I get back to business. I pick up my dad’s reciprocating saw, grab the battery off the charger, and push it into place. I unzip my backpack to shove the saw inside when something catches my eye. There’s a crumpled piece of paper at the bottom of the bag. I pull it out, smooth the paper on my dad’s workbench.
Tag, loser!!! You’re it!
Ebba.
My insides crumple. I wilt. I stagger over to the couch, note still in my hand, and sit down heavily.
I miss my sister. I want her here right now. I want to tell her what I’m about to do and watch her roll her eyes. I want to hear her voice as she tells me it’s the worst idea ever. I want this to be one of a million secret notes she’ll leave me.
I gasp for breath and press my fists into my eyes, like that’s all it will take to stop the tears.
It isn’t. They come anyway.
Ebba won’t leave me notes anymore. I found the last one, and by finding it, she’ll disappear a bit more. This is the end. There’s no more hope.
I carefully fold Ebba’s note and put it in my pocket. It’ll be my good luck charm tonight.
I go back to loading tools into my backpack but with less enthusiasm than before. I know I’m taking more than I need—pliers or a hammer aren’t likely to get me into the wish cave, yeah? But I want to be prepared just in case.
I’m zipping my bag when the garage door opens. I nudge my backpack aside and throw myself down onto the couch, try to look casual. Like I’m watching TV. Totally chill. Not at all on the verge of committing a major crime.
My dad steps into the garage. He frowns at me like there are a million things he wants to say but doesn’t know where to begin.
“I’m heading to the game.”
“OK.”
We look at each other for a long moment. I melt into a pile of shame.
“Are you coming?” he asks.
“What, I’m not banned from the stadium too?” I wince as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Why can’t I stop being such a dick?
“I’ll see you later tonight,” my dad replies quietly. He turns to leave.
“Dad, wait.”
Once his eyes are back on me, I have no idea what to say.
“I hope you win,” I say finally.
“Thanks, buddy.”
He turns again.
“And I’m sorry,” I blurt out. We both have places to be, and I don’t know why I’m suddenly so desperate to keep him here. “I know how much you wanted me to play.”
“Didn’t you want to play, Eldon?” he asks.
“Honestly, I don’t think I love football that much.”
He looks surprised. “Why didn’t you ever say so?”
“I don’t think I realized it.”
“Well, you could have found a better way to get out of the game.”
I snort with laughter. My dad smiles.
He looks like he wants to say more. I want him to say more. And I want to tell him everything I’ve been feeling for the past few months.
But instead of sharing wise, meaningful thoughts, my dad says, “Hey, check it out.” He walks over to the side of the garage where the sink is all set up. He turns the faucet, and a stream of water shoots out.
“That’s really great, Dad.”
“I think so too,” he says.
I’m glad he has something to be proud of. Even if it isn’t me.
Then he leaves for the football field, the place he loves most. Concerned with nothing but putting the Tonopah Muckers in their place. For him, winning the game is the same at winning at life.
For me, well, I’m playing a totally different sport.
• • •
The sun is setting as I walk to the edge of town.
My parents took the van, and I don’t want to risk Abby picking me up at my house. There’d be too many questions if anyone saw.
The town is dead. Everyone’s at the game or on the way there. It feels like I’m the only person left in Madison. It should be creepy, but instead, it’s liberating. Like being the lone survivor after the apocalypse. Maybe that’s the way it should be. There are some things you have to do alone.
Abby’s car is waiting where we planned. I hop in the back seat.
“You sure you want to do this?” she asks.
I nod and direct her down the dusty road, through the hills that lead to the wish cave.
“Here,” I say when we reach the flat, cleared-out space that’s used as a parking lot. “We have to walk the rest of the way.”
I go first, and Sweet Pete brings up the rear. Light fades from the sky rapidly.
We twist up the path, hugging close to the mountain. It’s steep and rocky, but my frequent trips to the hot springs have given me plenty of practice with the terrain.
“Are there rattlesnakes out here?” Pete asks.
“Not in Madison. Someone wished for the rattlesnakes to disappear a long time ago.”
“Like some twisted St. Patrick,” Abby says.
I don’t know anything about St. Patrick. I thought he had a holiday when people got drunk.
“Hey,” I say, “do people ask you guys what you want to be when you grow up?”
Abby gives me a weird look.
“I see it on TV a lot,” I say. “Adults asking little kids what they want to be. I wondered if that was real or not.”
“Yeah, man,” says JP. “Of course they ask.”
I’m struck by the strangeness of that. How different a person’s life might be because of where they were born. “No one does that here,” I say. “They ask what you’re going to wish for.”
We’re all sweating and gasping for breath by the time we reach the summit. There, in a cleft of rock, is the cave. The last rays of su
nlight glint on the metal bars.
“Jesus,” says JP. “It’s real.”
I toss my backpack to the ground and pull out the reciprocating saw.
“Is that going to work?” Abby asks skeptically.
“According to my dad, it’ll cut through anything.” I take a deep breath. “Ready?”
Everyone nods.
I press the button, and the saw comes to life. It screeches when I hold it to the first metal bar. It’s so freaking loud, I’m half convinced the noise will travel all the way to Vegas.
But I don’t let that stop me.
• • •
It turns out cutting through metal bars isn’t exactly a breeze. The saw works, but it’s slow going. The sun is fully set by the time I make real progress.
JP taps me on the shoulder to get my attention. When I turn off the saw, he says, “That’s enough.”
I examine the hole I’ve made.
“What about him?” I nod at Pete. “He won’t fit through.”
“I’ll be the lookout,” Pete says.
“OK then. I guess we’re ready.”
I stare into the darkness of the wish cave, still not entirely believing what I’m about to do. It seems monumental. I reach into my pocket and close my hand around Ebba’s note.
“You have a flashlight?” Abby asks.
I rummage in my backpack and pull out three candles.
“You’re joking.”
I shrug. “They say it has to be this way.”
JP lights the candles, and I hand Sweet Pete the hammer, tell him to bang it against the bars if there’s any trouble.
It seems like we should mark the moment. Say or do something ceremonial. But JP and Abby slip quietly into the cave, twisting their bodies to pass between the rough edges of the bars. I follow them.
Inside, the temperature drops. All noise stops. It’s like being underwater.
“Go straight,” I say. “Stay on the main path until you hit a big cavern.”
We walk.
The cave is everything I’d been told. Smooth walls. Hard-packed ground. No light except for the flickering candles. It makes me think of crypts. Of passages inside the pyramids. It’s otherworldly, and I suddenly understand how people can believe in aliens or God. The wish cave doesn’t feel like a place for humans.
A few passages shoot off the main tunnel. I peer down them but can’t see far. I don’t linger. The last thing I want is to lose Abby and JP.
None of us speak while we walk, as if making noise might wake up some ancient creature inside these stone corridors.
But at one of the branching passages, I have to pause.
“Wait,” I whisper.
Abby and JP shuffle to a stop.
I feel a breeze from the end of the passage. I look down at my candle. Sure enough, it’s flickering.
“Is that the way?” Abby asks.
“No, but—”
“Come on then.”
We go on.
I figure we must be near the cavern now. But before we find out for sure, there’s a noise behind us. A hammer clashing against metal.
We halt again. I meet Abby’s gaze in the flickering candlelight. She doesn’t look afraid. I wish I could say the same for myself.
Sweet Pete’s voice echoes down the long corridor.
“Shit,” JP says.
We can’t make out what Pete’s shouting. Another indistinct voice joins his.
“I think we’ve been caught,” Abby says.
My heart speeds. I’ve got so much adrenaline that it’s as if I’m in the final, critical moments of a football game. I have the urge to run, but running deeper into a labyrinth cave system doesn’t seem like a brilliant idea, yeah?
The squeal of metal hinges echoes down the corridor. The door is opening.
And like that, all my hopes are dashed. We’ve been discovered. The mayor may have cameras set up somewhere for all I know.
“If we keep going, we can make it to the cavern,” I say. “You can wish before they get here.”
But I can already hear shoes pounding on the ground, rushing down the passageway. It turns out sound carries really well in a cave.
Abby calmly shakes her head. “It’s too late.”
JP grins and leans against the wall, totally casual. I don’t get why I’m the only one freaking out.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Nothing to do but wait. This isn’t exactly our first run-in with the law.”
“It’s all part of the fun,” Abby says. She leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “Thanks for the adventure, kid.”
Then from around a bend in the cave, the mayor’s goons appear, looking ready for a fight. Sheriff Crawford is behind them. His face is painted in the Madison High School colors, and he’s wearing a Drosophila jersey. I’m certain he’s not thrilled about leaving the game.
Pulling up the rear is Mayor Fontaine himself. He’s wheezing and struggling to keep up. And let me tell you, he does not look happy.
Chapter 29
Countdown: 2 Days
I’ve wasted countless hours thinking up clever ways to get out of school on Monday mornings. But spending the night in jail had never occurred to me.
I’m alone in a holding cell at the police station. I have no idea what happened to Abby and JP and Pete. I haven’t seen them since the confusion last night. Madison doesn’t exactly have a huge prison network. Them not being here with me is cause for concern.
“So how long am I going to be locked up?” I ask Leo Treadway, the guard who’s sitting with his feet propped up on a desk at the end of the hall. It’s about the fiftieth time I’ve asked, and he has yet to respond.
I glance at the wall clock hanging above Leo’s head. Despite feeling like time has stopped, the seconds continue to tick away. I sigh and lie back down on my cot. I haven’t been able to sleep. I’m too anxious about whatever punishment is coming.
The mayor hardly spoke to me last night. Mostly, he glared and shook his head in disgust. For that, I’m grateful. I’m really not up to a huge lecture.
I wait and wait. I gaze at the bars of my cell and think about how handy my dad’s saw would be right now. I wonder where the others have been taken and if I’ll be stuck in here forever. I wonder if it’s possible to die of boredom.
It’s around ten in the morning when the outer door swings open and one of the other guards pokes his head in the room.
“Fontaine wants to see him,” he tells Leo.
Leo shuffles over and unlocks my cell. I follow him into Sheriff Crawford’s office where I’m greeted by a very unwelcome sight.
The mayor is sitting behind the desk like it’s his own, while the sheriff has been relegated to a small chair in the corner. Sitting across from Mayor Fontaine, looking extremely furious, is my mom.
“Hi, Ma,” I say.
“Sit down,” she replies with an icy tone.
I sit in the chair next to her.
This office is too small for all four of us. I shift uncomfortably while they stare at me. Maybe they’re waiting for me to talk first.
“What happened to Abby and them?” I ask finally.
Sheriff Crawford opens his mouth, but the mayor beats him to speaking.
“They’ve been taken care of.”
A chill trickles down my spine.
“We’ve been discussing what to do with you,” my mom says.
“What did you come up with?” I ask nonchalantly.
“Do you think this is a game?” Ma snaps. “You could be charged with criminal trespassing. Do you understand that?”
I consider pointing out that I’m still a minor for another few days. I had plenty of time to think about that overnight. Nothing they charge me with will have devastating consequences. Still, I
don’t like the glint in the mayor’s eye. It makes me very uncomfortable.
“In Madison, we believe in our own brand of justice,” Mayor Fontaine says.
The sheriff leans forward. “Well, that’s not exactly—”
Mayor Fontaine silences him with his hand.
When no one continues, I say, “What, are you going to take me out back and shoot me?”
“Now, let’s not get worked up,” Sheriff Crawford says. “No one’s getting shot.”
But the mayor’s face tells me that’s exactly what he’d do if he could.
“Crawford, please. I’ve got this under control.”
The sheriff dutifully sits back in his seat, but he doesn’t look happy about it.
“I can’t believe you, Eldon.” My mom actually starts crying. “How could you do something like this? How could you?”
My face heats, and I look away.
“Perhaps it’s best if Eldon and I discuss this privately,” the mayor says.
Ma starts to argue, but Mayor Fontaine’s expression must change her mind.
“I’ll wait in the car,” she says.
Mayor Fontaine gives the sheriff another pointed look.
“Me? This is my office,” Sheriff Crawford sputters.
“We’ll just be a moment.”
I think—I hope—the sheriff is going to challenge him. He doesn’t. He gets to his feet and follows my mom out of the room.
Once we’re alone, the mayor looks at me for a long time. His fingers tap on the desk. I wonder if he feels inadequate there, in the small room, behind a desk made of particle board.
“What are we going to do with you, son?”
“It sounds like you already know. Sir.”
His beady eyes bore into me. I wish my mom was still here.
“It’s clear that you don’t have any appreciation for the incredible gift you’ve been given.”
“I guess I don’t see wishing as a gift.”
A misshapen vein runs the length of his temple, and I imagine it’s throbbing.
“When I was your age, we were taught respect. Respect for ourselves and our elders and, above all else, respect for wishing.”
As You Wish Page 24