“Good evening, Mr. Wilkes,” says Marla or Eulalie.
“Yes, good evening,” says the other.
I nod to them.
“So you know, you will have a very special place in the wish museum.”
“Oh yes, the most special, even.”
“We’re working on an entire display dedicated to your wish.”
That’s unexpected. “Aren’t you angry at me?”
They both tilt their heads and look at me quizzically.
“I mean, without wishing, there can’t be a museum, right?”
“Don’t be silly!” says Marla-Eulalie.
“The museum will always be here,” her sister agrees.
“Well, good,” I say.
And it is, I guess. It’s good to know our town history will survive this mess. At least for as long as the Samsons are alive.
I make my way back to Merrill and Norie, checking the time. Archie should be in the cave now. He might be making his wish at this very moment. Everyone else in the room seems to realize this as well, because conversations become hushed.
I look around at all the faces that, after tomorrow, I’ll probably never see again. There are so many people I won’t have a chance to say goodbye to. I’ll miss my sister’s funeral. I thought leaving would be easy, but nothing in life is as simple as you expect it to be.
A half an hour later, the door of the community center opens, and Sheriff Crawford enters. He doesn’t say a word, just soberly shakes his head.
No one speaks. Some people bow their heads. Some people’s shoulders hunch. A girl who I think is a freshman starts crying. But most people file silently out of the room.
They’ll go home, I suppose. They’ll go to bed as if it’s any other night. And in the morning, they’ll get up and start figuring out how to live in a world where they have to forge their own paths.
“I guess that’s it,” Merrill says.
“We should get some sleep,” Norie says. “We have a big day tomorrow.”
So we leave with the rest of the crowd. We wander home through our hot, windy town where there’s no such thing as wishing.
Chapter 39
Goodbye, Madison
When the sun is high in the sky, Madison will be scorching hot. Later, the wind will kick up and drive people indoors, where they’ll wonder why they chose to live in such a desolate place.
But right now, it’s early, and the air is still, and the worst of the heat is hours away. Madison’s residents haven’t woken up yet, and there’s an unreal feeling about the empty streets, as if I’m on a movie set instead of in an actual town.
I walk past the tiny movie theater. I walk past the bar where there’s probably some drunk, maybe even Uncle Jasper, passed out in a booth. I walk past the high school football field where I’ve had some of my best and worst moments.
Even though it’s the same town I grew up in, Madison is different this morning. Or maybe I’m different.
I barely slept last night. I watched TV in the garage. I paced in my room. I turned on the radio and heard, “Tonight on Basin and Range Radio, we’re exploring a mysterious town in Nevada where alien overlords have been known to grant wishes!”
I laughed and laughed until, for some reason, I cried.
After that, I spent hours sitting in Ebba’s bedroom, thinking of all that had happened and all that would happen next. Wondering if I’d saved Madison or destroyed it. Wondering, if I had to do it all over again, if I’d take the same path.
There are no do-overs though, not with wishing. There are only consequences. And I have to learn to live with mine.
Merrill and Norie are waiting at the gas station, where I texted I’d meet them. They’re sitting on the hood of the Mustang that Merrill’s liberating from his dad.
“The guy’s so drunk, he probably won’t even notice the car’s gone,” he told us last night. “Besides, he shouldn’t be on the roads anyway.”
“Morning, Eldo,” Merrill says now. He’s alert and bright-eyed. He’s ready for adventure.
Norie hops off the hood and opens the passenger door, shifts some stuff around inside. Merrill doesn’t move though. He frowns and stares at me. I stare back.
“Where’s your bag?” he asks.
“I’m not going with you.”
Norie stops what she’s doing. “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
There’s a long silence.
“Dude,” Merrill says. “You can’t be serious. This is our moment. This is what we’ve been waiting for our whole lives.”
“It’s your moment,” I tell Merrill. “Yours and Norie’s.”
“What about you?” Merrill asks, his voice rising. “You’re going to stay here in this shithole? Get a job coaching football or something?”
I shrug. “I don’t know yet.”
I’ve been thinking about the future though. Last night, lying on Ebba’s bed, I thought about it a lot.
The future, the very thing I’ve been trying to avoid.
It’s easier to pretend the future doesn’t exist, that there’s only this moment. But that’s a lie. I have years and years ahead of me, and I don’t want them going to waste. I can’t let them go to waste. My sister doesn’t have a future anymore, and I owe it to her to make the most of my own.
Merrill looks horrified. It’s as if his whole world is crashing down. I should know—that feeling has become pretty freaking familiar.
“I don’t regret my wish,” I tell Merrill. “But it made a mess. I need to stay until it’s cleaned up.”
“That’s what they want you to think. Don’t you get it, Eldon?” Merrill says, his face getting red. “You’re going to be one more casualty of wishing. This is your chance to get out, and the town is sucking you back in, and it’s going to destroy you, because that’s what this place does.”
“Hey, Merrill?” I say, smiling.
“Yeah?”
“What are you going to rant about when you’re out of Madison?”
Merrill deflates. He smiles too. “Don’t worry. I’ll find something.” He glances at Norie. “Maybe I’ll start a crusade against religion.”
Norie rolls her eyes.
In this moment, I want to change my mind. I can’t bear the thought of them driving away from me. I want to hop in the car, even though I haven’t packed, haven’t said goodbye to my parents, haven’t made peace with Madison.
But I’m done running.
I’ve always thought Madison’s the kind of place that traps you. The thing is, most people, well, they want to be trapped. Merrill’s wrong. I’m not letting the town suck me back in. I’m going to leave someday, but I’ll do it on my own terms. Not because I’m afraid or trying to avoid consequences. The old Eldon ran away when situations got tough. I’m sick of being a coward.
“I want to fix what I broke,” I tell Merrill. “Help rebuild the town or whatever.”
“How?” he asks, looking incredulous.
“I’m not sure.”
I bet Penelope has a few ideas though.
Last night, I thought about the coming days. I can finish writing my wish history maybe. Work through some of my recent struggles with Mr. Wakefield. I can look for a new job. Save money. Figure out what I want long-term. I looked up community college classes, and there are a few I can take online. It’s not Harvard, but it’s an option. Suddenly, life seems full of options.
“I need to be here for my parents,” I tell Merrill. They already lost one kid this week. Can I really ditch them now? “I need to be here for Ebba’s funeral.”
Not to mention I need to be here for the days that will follow, which will probably be even harder for my family. We need to grieve for Ebba together.
Merrill nods. He doesn’t like it, but he understands.
“You won’t recon
sider, will you?” Norie asks.
“No.” And as difficult as it is, I say it like I mean it.
Norie hugs me tightly. “Good luck then. Come find us when you’re ready.”
She climbs into the passenger seat, leaving me and Merrill to say our goodbyes alone.
“I don’t know what to say.” Merrill sighs.
I don’t either. I’ve lived next door to Merrill my entire life. I see him nearly every day. I don’t know who I am without him by my side. It never occurred to me that one day we’d have to say goodbye to each other. It’s not as hard as saying goodbye to Ebba, but, well, it’s up there.
“Thank you for everything,” I say finally.
“Dude, nothing to thank me for. You’re my best friend.”
“Always,” I agree.
Merrill pushes up his glasses and rubs at his eyes.
“Dust,” he explains when he sees me looking at him.
“Yeah, sure,” I say.
“I’m very sensitive to allergens, you know.”
I laugh, but the truth is, I’m tearing up too.
“You need to get going,” I say.
Merrill nods. “Take care of yourself, Eldo.”
“You too.”
He climbs into his car, starts the engine, prepares to drive away.
“Hey, Merrill,” I shout. When he rolls the window down, I tell him, “Go get the sky.”
Merrill grins. “You bet I will.”
I watch the Mustang drive away from the gas station, the same way I’ve watched countless cars disappear down Madison’s main street. When the Mustang is a dot on the horizon, I start walking.
The streets are still empty, but they won’t be for long. People will come out of their houses, ready to face the day. Ready to face a wishless world. And I’ll be there to figure it out with them.
For now anyway.
There’s a whole world out there waiting for me. In time, I’ll leave Madison and find out exactly what it has to offer. I’ll meet up with Merrill and Norie. Or I’ll get ahold of Abby, take her up on her offer. If you ever want to get out of Strangeville… I’m sure Madison isn’t the end of the road for me. And when the time comes to say goodbye, I’ll do it the right way. I won’t sneak off at dawn, leaving my parents with a hastily scrawled farewell.
“Wilkes, you motherfucker,” says a voice behind me.
I turn around.
Archie Kildare stands in the middle of the street. He looks like he slept in a gutter. I can smell the alcohol on him. Where did he come from? He seems ready to challenge me to a Wild West–style duel.
“Morning, Archie,” I say.
He advances.
“I fucking told you what would happen,” Archie says.
I sigh and accept my fate. This meeting was inevitable.
“All right, Archie,” I say. “Let’s get this over with.”
Archie grins. “Good boy.”
He closes the distance between us. Two seconds later, his fist slams into my face. I stagger backward, catch myself, wipe my mouth. My hand comes away bloody. Before I can recover, Archie sucker punches me in the gut, and I double over, gasping for breath.
This isn’t exactly how I hoped to spend my morning. No one loves getting their ass kicked, yeah? But a lot worse can happen in life.
And let’s face it, I probably deserve this.
“What are you doing?” Archie rages. “Fight back!”
I won’t though.
I’m done using my fists to solve my problems. It never solved anything anyway.
Archie hits me in the face again, hard enough to make me dizzy. I sink down to my knees, lean forward, and brace myself against the pavement, trying to make the world stop spinning.
“Fight me, Wilkes!” Archie screams.
He kicks me.
I groan, struggle to breathe, spit blood.
Archie takes a step back. He’s panting too, and even through the haze, I can read confusion all over his face. “What’s your problem?”
“I’m not gonna fight you,” I choke out.
Archie scowls and crosses his arms over his chest. “I could kill you, you know.”
“It wouldn’t change what happened,” I say.
“Yeah, well…” Archie frowns, trying to puzzle through this turn of events.
I wait and attempt to keep my expression neutral, keep him from seeing how much pain I’m in.
“You’re a pussy,” he says finally.
And then something truly magical happens: he turns and starts to walk away.
“Does this mean we’re cool then?” I call after him.
“Don’t push your luck, Wilkes,” he replies, shooting me one last glance over his shoulder.
I watch him, make sure he’s really leaving. Then I roll over onto my back beside the road. The ground is already heating up, but the pain in my face is so bad I hardly notice. I stare at the sky for a while. It’s another cloudless day, bright and sunny and beautiful.
I’m sure someone will come by soon. See me lying here and help me to my feet, drive me home. Barnabas on his bike or Gil in his truck or Othello in whatever he drives. A spaceship, probably.
But no one comes.
Maybe that’s for the best. Maybe it’s time to help myself instead of waiting for someone else to do it.
Slowly, carefully, I get to my feet. My body screams in pain. I’m still light-headed. I run my tongue over my teeth to see if anything’s been knocked loose.
My mouth seems intact. My nose is probably broken, but it’s not the first time. I’ll be sore for a few days, but I won’t be in a body cast or anything. All in all, Archie could’ve done a lot worse.
I begin to stagger down Main Street, heading in the direction of my house. I pass Madison’s dusty, worn-down buildings, the landmarks I’ve grown up with. Today, they don’t make me feel trapped or suffocated.
For the first time in Madison’s history, this place is exactly what it always pretended to be: ordinary. A nowhere, nothing town in the middle of the Mojave Desert.
That’s cool with me though.
Being extraordinary is kind of overrated.
Acknowledgments
If I could make a wish (that was guaranteed to come true), I’d wish all the best things for the people who were with me on this book-writing journey. In lieu of a magical wish, I hope everyone accepts my deep gratitude.
Thank you to my agent, Suzie Townsend. Her knowledge, passion, and overall awesomeness have helped me through every stage of the writing process—and often kept me from falling down the anxiety spiral. I’m so grateful to everyone at New Leaf Literary and the hard work they’ve done.
My wonderful editor, Annette Pollert-Morgan, helped me turn this into the book I hoped it would be. Her spot-on advice took the story and characters farther than I could have on my own. She also tirelessly points out my crutch words. (How many will make it into this section? I wonder.) The entire Sourcebooks team has overwhelmed me with their dedication and enthusiasm, and I’m thankful to have them by my side.
My earliest readers: Jo Farrow, Anna Priemaza, Katelyn Larson, and Josh Hlibichuk. They cheered on this book from the start and pointed out flaws in the nicest possible ways.
Thank you to Steve Conger, who helped me develop Norie’s religious beliefs, and Tasha and Ben Christensen, who gave input that rounded those beliefs out. Thank you to Jess Flint who always motivates me on days when writing feels impossible.
The r/YAwriters crew: Greg, Katie, Kristine, Leann, Morgan, Phil, Rachel, plus the others already mentioned. Whether we’re together in person or chatting from opposite sides of the country (or the world), they’re the best writer family I could’ve asked for.
My local critique group, especially: Chris, Elizabeth, Gordon, Greg, Mandy, Paul, Rachel, Raz, Tonya, and Zeenat
. My appreciation for them is as eternal as our Everlife Balloons.
My online critique group: Jilly Gagnon, Bridget Morrissey, and Lana Popović. I’m so grateful for their insights and awed at being among such talented writers.
Thank you to my mom for supporting my writing since I was a little kid, Uncle Dan for the UFO story, and Darrell “Shu” Davies, who once asked a “what if” question that sparked the idea for this book. Inspiration really can come from anywhere.
My wonderful husband, Steve Phillips, deserves a lifetime of thanks. He provides me with an endless amount of love and encouragement and makes amazing pizza that gets me through the bad writing days. (He also answered a lot of questions about football.)
And thank you to all the strange and wonderful desert towns that inspired the setting of this book. The Mojave might not have wishing, but believe me, there’s still magic here.
About the Author
Chelsea Sedoti fell in love with writing at a young age after discovering that making up stories was more fun than doing her schoolwork. (Her teachers didn’t always appreciate this.) In an effort to avoid getting a “real” job, Chelsea explored careers as a balloon twister, filmmaker, and paranormal investigator. Eventually she realized that her true passion is writing about flawed teenagers who are also afraid of growing up, like in her debut, The Hundred Lies of Lizzie Lovett. When she’s not at the computer, Chelsea spends her time exploring abandoned buildings, eating junk food at roadside diners, and trying to befriend every animal in the world. She lives in Las Vegas, Nevada, where she avoids casinos but loves roaming the Mojave Desert. Visit her at chelseasedoti.com.
Thank you for reading!
At Sourcebooks we are always working on something new and exciting, and we don’t want you to miss out.
So sign up now to receive exclusive offers, bonus content, and always be the first to get the scoop on what’s new!
SIGN UP NOW!
As You Wish Page 30