I immediately thought of my dad’s parents’ house down in Ohio. Grandpa Bosco had died years ago, but Grandma Nora still lived there. I’d had so many happy memories and occasions at that house—warm, pink-sky summer evenings running around the yard catching fireflies in glass mason jars, ice-cream parties with my cousins, endless sleepovers and movie nights with buckets of popcorn filled with M&M’s—that I could close my eyes and feel like I was there.
“There!” Madame Nadirah said excitedly. “Whatever you just thought of—you’ve left a piece of your soul there.”
“My grandparents’ house in Ohio?”
She nodded. “I’d bet my life savings, all ten bucks of it, that most people have left a piece of their soul at their grandparents’ house. I’m assuming you had a lot of happy childhood memories there?”
“A ton!” I said, still feeling warm and fuzzy at the thought of those memories. “But I’m not sure I’d put two kids lost at sea on the same scale as all the memories at my grandparents’ house. I don’t want a piece of my soul floating around in the ocean. Who knows what could snatch onto it?”
“Baylor, a piece of a soul isn’t going to tempt a demon,” Kristina chimed in. “It’d want the whole thing.”
“But still,” I said, thinking of my soul, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what it looked like. It tended to change shapes a lot in my head. Today I imagined it as a fiery white cage that surrounded my heart. “It’s my soul.”
“But it’s their lives at stake,” Kristina said, sounding more annoyed with every word. “You’re thinking about it too much. It’d be like thinking a fingernail clipping was worth a million bucks. It’s just not the case.”
“I don’t know what is going on between you two right now,” Madame Nadirah said, fanning herself, “but, oh, there is some friction here.”
I could see my mom watching us while pretending to look through a display of T-shirts. “Okay, quickly—how do I leave a piece behind?”
“Well, this part is why I said it wouldn’t be easy,” she said. “You need to forge a strong emotional connection to the place. You know you’ve done it when you can close your eyes and picture the place exactly as it is. That’s because you can glimpse it through your soul—a part of you really is there.”
“But . . .” I thought of the shiny capsized boat, and the vast ocean with its rolling water as far as the eye could see and the mind could imagine, and two stranded kids struggling to stay alive. “But I don’t think I can. It’s not exactly a place I want to remember, and I’m not really sure I can fake something like that.”
Madame Nadirah looked at me seriously. “You need to try real hard then, kid,” she said. “Otherwise, you better hope one of those planes spots them soon.”
By that point, Mom had inched her way over so close that I had no choice but to introduce her to Madame Nadirah. After they shook hands, my mom said, “So what were you saying earlier about other dimensions . . . ?”
I shot Madame Nadirah a look and shook my head, but before I could say anything, my phone started ringing. It was a Florida number.
“I’ve got to take this!” I said, running outside. After the door shut, I picked up and said, “Hello? This is Baylor Bosco.”
There was a brief silence, and then the voice on the other end said, in a thick accent, “And this is Helios Papadopoulos. I’m Helena’s father.”
Bingo.
“Thanks for calling me back, Mr. Papadopoulos.”
“This is not easy for me to do, young man,” he said, swallowing loudly. “But it’s been a week, and”—his voice trembled—“I’m desperate for anything that could help us find our kids.”
“They’re still alive, Mr. Papadopoulos. I’m trying to figure out a way to find them, but I know this much—they’re alive and they’re okay. They look like they’ve been sitting out in the sun for a long time with no food, but they’re in decent spirits at least.”
There was another long pause. “How am I supposed to believe you? Anyone could tell me something like this.”
“Helena mentioned it was your wife’s birthday last weekend.”
“Yes,” he said slowly, suspiciously. I heard an odd muffled noise on the line, too, but ignored it.
“She told me to tell you her present for your wife is in her nightstand, in the bottom drawer under some tank tops. It’s an elephant figurine made out of sea glass.”
I heard a screech and a crash on the line, and I pulled the phone away from my ear. “What was that?” I asked loudly. “Are you okay?”
“My apologies,” he said, his voice deep and shaky. “I have you on speakerphone, and my wife knocked over her chair in her hurry to get to Helena’s room.”
“Oh,” was all I could muster. I imagined my mom in Mrs. Papadopoulos’s shoes, desperately looking for any piece of me that might serve as a clue, or a memory. It was just a couple days ago that I’d seen her crying on the news alongside Archie’s mom, begging for anyone to help them.
A loud shriek pierced my eardrums from the phone, and I had to hold the phone away once more.
“It’s here,” a female voice cried out. “Just like he said. It was exactly where he said. It’s real.” She sobbed violently. “He’s real.”
I heard Mr. Papadopoulos swallow repeatedly, but I didn’t say anything. I wanted to let them process in silence.
“Baylor,” he said, “you must come help us. You’re the first person who’s been able to tell us . . . anything, actually. The police, the coast guard, they’ve all been looking, but this is the first solid evidence we have.”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t be a lot of help at the moment,” I said. “I’m trying to come up with a plan, but I have no way to find them.”
“Then you can relay messages for us. We can pay for your plane ticket, for your parents’ plane ticket. Heck, we have friends with seaplanes who have been aiding in the search. We could have one of them come fetch you.”
“Seriously, if I thought my presence would help, I’d already be down there,” I said. “But for now, it wouldn’t do anyone any good.”
“Baylor, this is Dina,” Mrs. Papadopoulos said loudly into the phone. Her accent was strong, and she had a deliberate way of speaking. “How did she look? How did my baby look? Is she okay?”
I hesitated. “She and Archie were joking with each other, but . . . they look really weak,” I said. I thought of that wave hitting the boat, and Archie saying he wasn’t sure he’d be able to crawl back up if he fell off. “I know it’s obvious, but we need to find them really, really soon.”
“Archie,” she said, a hint of anger in her voice. “I will never forgive him for this. He wasn’t supposed to take the boat out by himself. He betrayed his father’s trust.”
“He mentioned he made a mistake . . . ,” I said, trying to think of what else he said about it. But that was the first time I had seen them, and a giant wave slapped me back to Loved Ones’ Lane a second later.
“A mistake,” she scoffed. “Willful rule-breaking, more like it. This was no mistake. He knew he didn’t have permission, but he did it anyway, and he dragged Helena out to sea with him.”
“I’m really sorry this is all happening,” I said. “I hope knowing they’re alive and okay is helpful.”
There was a silence. “It’s been a week. How much longer can they go without food, without fresh water?”
“They had some water,” I said. “But it was running low.”
Another moment passed in silence, and I said, “I’ll call back with any news.” I almost hung up, but before I did, I had to say it. “And I know you’re mad at Archie, but if you could tell his family that I know he’s wearing his favorite red bathing suit with the flowers that his mom got on a cruise, that might comfort them, too.”
Yet another silence, but finally Mr. Papadopoulos said quietly, “We’ll tell them.”
I hung up and took a deep breath. That was horrible.
I walked back inside to see Aiden finishing up
a purchase from Madame Nadirah. He stuffed a small bag into his pocket while J chatted merrily with her about the shop’s wide variety of candles.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been in here before! Your selection is so amazing and unique. This is going to make the perfect Christmas gift for my mom.”
“Ready to go, everyone?” I asked.
Gillie had curled up into a ball on a leather armchair in the corner of the shop, her expression as pleasant as a car crash. “Finally,” she muttered, untangling herself and heading for the door. “This place gives me the creeps. And I reek of sage.”
“You might want to reapply before you go,” Madame Nadirah called out as the door shut behind her. Then, quietly, she said, “Though I doubt even a long soak in a swimming pool of sage would do her any good.”
TIP
17
Try not to ruin your brother’s life.
WE STOPPED AT THE ICE-CREAM shop just off the main square and took over one of the long tables inside as everyone licked their scoops. Other families might have let the frigid weather scare them away from getting ice cream, but the Bosco family firmly believes there’s never a wrong time for it.
“Well, that was an interesting shop,” Uncle Glenn said as some of his green mint chocolate chip dripped down his mouth. “You go there a lot, Baylor?”
“Not really,” I said, trying to maintain control of my scoop, chocolate with chocolate sprinkles. For some reason my ice cream was melting way too fast. “Madame Nadirah has helped me a lot in the last couple weeks, though.”
“She sure has,” my mom said, eyeing me over her chocolate-vanilla swirl. “We had a fascinating chat while you were on the phone.”
Kristina was standing by the glass icebox, examining all the flavors. “Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. You are so busted. Madame Nadirah told Mom all about your little adventure to find me and how you saw Grandpa Bosco and everything.”
“Great,” I said under my breath.
“It smelled weird in there,” Oli said. His ice cream was melting fast, too, and the blue-pink of the cotton candy scoop was pooling on his hand. “Like someone set Grandma’s perfume on fire.”
“That was the incense,” J said. She’d gotten a scoop of vanilla in a cup, covered with rainbow sprinkles and chocolate syrup. “It’s supposed to purify the energy in a room.”
“Oh,” Oli said. “I’m not sure that worked very well.” He started to lick the neon puddle off his hand.
“You’re so disgusting,” Gillie said. She hadn’t ordered anything, and she sat at the table observing us all as though she were a patron at the world’s least entertaining zoo.
“Be nice to your brother,” Uncle Glenn said, but then he looked at Oli. “But your sister’s sort of right, son. Just use a napkin.”
“I’m not going to waste perfectly good ice cream!” Oli said.
Aiden, sitting directly across from Oli, nodded in understanding as he licked his Rocky Road.
Bobby entered the shop at that moment, but he wasn’t alone. Cam Nguyen followed a second later, accompanied by his little brother, Minh, and another of his and Jack’s classmates, a kid named Adam Rosenberg. I recognized him because our moms worked on the PTA together.
“Hey, guys! I ran into Cam a few blocks away!” Bobby said excitedly, his entire year clearly made over the coincidence.
I glared at Cam, while Jack focused diligently on his chocolate chip cookie dough, avoiding the glances of his classmates. Cam half-heartedly waved my way and pushed the two boys toward the icebox.
I got up and Bobby swooped into my seat. “You didn’t call ‘five’!” he said. “My chair now!”
Gillie, who’d been staring at the wall miserably, had transformed, suddenly fixing her hair and running her fingers through it repeatedly as she eyed Bobby. My mom introduced Uncle Glenn and Oli to Bobby, and as she was about to mention Gillie’s name, Gillie giggled loudly and said, “Aunt Connie, stop! Let him try to guess it!”
I rolled my eyes. As much as I’d enjoy watching Gillie embarrass herself in front of our family and my friends, I had questions for Cam.
“Carla Clunders?” I said to him. “Seriously?”
“She found me, Baylor,” he said, not making eye contact.
“How?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “She just showed up at my house and started asking me questions about you.”
“And you willingly talked to the random lady who just showed up at your house?”
“Look, I was mad at you still, all right?”
“And then you commented on the post too? ‘CamTheMan’? Just try to tell me that’s not you.”
His wide cheeks burned red. That was all the proof I needed.
“I didn’t mean to scare Minh, Cam. It was an accident. But you chose to say nasty things about me to that woman, so I hope you feel good about that.”
I was about to turn back to my table when he said, “Baylor, wait.” He was still staring at the ice-cream flavors, but he clenched his teeth and said, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I nodded. “Fine. Apology accepted. See you Monday.”
I turned around to see Jack peeking at us, except he wasn’t staring at me and Cam chatting. He was looking at Minh and Adam.
“Actually,” I said, turning back around to Cam. “Can I ask for a favor? A show of goodwill to smooth everything over?”
Cam furrowed his brows, looking reluctant to hear anything I had to say.
I leaned in and whispered. “Could you convince your brother to come hang out at my house for a bit? Tonight, maybe? I think it’d be good for him to spend time with Jack. And then he could see I’m not so scary, either.”
He looked at the boys and then back at me. “I’m supposed to be babysitting them all day.”
“I’ll do that for you!” I said. “No problem. You can go hang out with your friends and my dad will drop them off later tonight.”
He was chewing on his tongue as he weighed his options. “I feel like Minh and Adam wouldn’t love the idea . . . but then again, I do really want to see the new Spider-Man movie with the guys tonight.”
“It’ll be fine. In fact, they can come back to my house now, and you can have the rest of the day to yourself. They’ll be in good hands. I promise your Spidey senses won’t be tingling!”
He blinked at me awkwardly.
“Just . . . just forget I said that last part,” I said.
He looked down at Minh and Adam and shrugged. “Hey, boys, listen up!”
He told them the plan, and the boys looked from Cam to me then back to Cam, terrified.
“I think I should call my mom,” Adam said, clearly trying to get out of it. “I don’t think she’d like this idea.”
“Our moms do PTA together,” I said to him. “I think she’ll be totally okay with it, actually.”
His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything else.
For all I knew about Minh—and it wasn’t much, besides what Cam had said about the whole night-light situation—he seemed to be okay with the news.
“We’ll have fun with Jack,” he said to Adam. He almost sounded excited. “Just . . . stay away from . . . you know . . .”
Seriously? What did they think I was going to do to them? Unleash a demon to gobble up their souls? Didn’t they realize we were likely freaked out by the same types of things on the other side?
Cam paid for their ice cream, gave me his cell phone number in case I needed to get ahold of him, and headed out.
“Hey, Jack, your friends are going to come hang out this afternoon,” I said.
Mom immediately perked up, looking at the boys in confusion. “What? They are?”
“Yeah, that kid who just left, Cam, he’s in band with us, and his brother Minh is in Jack’s class. And you know Adam because Mrs. Rosenberg does PTA with you.”
“Hi, Minh,” my mom said, “and hi, Adam. Do your parents know you’re with us? I usually talk on the phone wi
th another mom before a playdate.”
Minh shrugged. “Cam was babysitting us and he said it was okay.” They pulled up chairs next to Jack, who was smiling widely, and began chatting with him about some game involving zombie-fighting plants.
I thought Mom was going to say something else, but she took another look at Jack’s smiling face and her expression softened. She shrugged at me just as nonchalantly as Minh had, and then resumed licking her ice cream.
Once everyone was done with their ice cream, we took another loop around the square. I kept my eye on Jack, Minh, and Adam, who were chatting merrily behind the group. I glanced at Kristina, feeling hopeful that I was in the process of undoing whatever harm we’d done to Jack’s life.
“Have you ever seen him talk so much?” Kristina asked.
I shook my head. I’d loosened up recently and started communicating with Kristina more directly when I was around friends, but I didn’t want to risk any of Jack’s friends seeing me look at or talk to what they perceived as air.
“Smart thinking about keeping mum,” she said. “Wouldn’t want to scare them just as they’re starting to warm up.” Kristina couldn’t read my thoughts, but sometimes we definitely operated on the same wavelength.
Meanwhile, Bobby was telling me, Aiden, and J a story about how one of his older cousins taught one of his younger cousins to say the phrase, “Don’t quit your day job,” and the little cousin went around for three straight hours answering everything single thing with, “Don’t quit your day job.”
“It was a nightmare,” he said, his fingernails digging into his skull. “Over and over and over. ‘What’s your favorite color, Johnny.’ Pshh. Don’t quit your day job. ‘Hey, Johnny, do you like the mashed potatoes?’ Uh, don’t quit your day job. ‘Johnny loves that new Disney movie, don’t you, Johnny?’ Psh, don’t quit your DAY JOB, Mom. ‘My day job is taking care of you, Johnny Boy, I’d never quit that.’ That one really stumped him.”
Baylor's Guide to Dreadful Dreams Page 13