by Nathan Roden
Q smiled and held up a new set of keys.
“Chevy SUV. I had this feeling that I might need something more comfortable—with a little more room to stretch out. I’m not gonna be a kid forever, you know.”
“Are you leaving?”
Nate and Bo walked through the door. Nate had a cast on his right hand.
“You broke your hand?” I asked.
“Middle finger,” Nate said. “Just a slight break. The cast is just for healing. I’m guessing the tour is off, for a while anyway?”
“Yeah. Skyler is under concussion protocol, at the least.”
“I heard they arrested Apollo.”
“Yeah. But I’m not pressing charges. I told them to let him go.”
Nate nodded.
“He might have killed you if Nate hadn’t knocked him out,” Bo said.
“A few hours in jail can change your attitude,” I said. “I can vouch for that.”
“What do we do now?” Nate asked.
“I’m going home.”
“To Branson?” Nate asked.
I nodded.
“Branson first. And then, London. That’s where I should be.”
“Uh, Wyles,” Nate said. “We’re…under contract here, you know?”
“I know. I’m not talking about walking away—not yet.”
“But you might,” Nate said.
“This is getting a lot more complicated than I thought it would be,” I said.
Nate sighed.
“I know.”
Thirty-Four
Wylie Westerhouse
Branson, Missouri
I made my way through the gauntlet of hugs at the Castle McIntyre. This included an extra-long one from Duncan.
“So, what happens now?” Duncan asked.
“That all depends on Skyler, I guess,” I said.
Duncan looked around and stepped closer to me. Elvis Rushmore and several of his friends had just walked in. Duncan and I slipped out of the double doors and out onto the patio.
“Mr. Lynchburg said that Skyler saw her father when she touched you,” Duncan said.
“Yeah. I feel like an idiot. I knew that her dad was hanging around the ranch, but I didn’t know what he doing—he always ran away from me. I had no idea he would be at the concert. I should have checked. What a freaking mess.”
“I don’t know, Wyles,” Duncan said. “I mean, we had the same dream, but when does—?”
“You know what, Dunk?” I don’t even want to think about dreams anymore. If last night was my last night on a stage—I could live with that. There were twenty thousand fans screaming for us. I think I could make that memory last forever.”
“Maybe,” Duncan said. “But it came at a price, right?”
“Yeah, it did. Skyler has a concussion—but it could have been even worse. What if she had fallen off the front of the stage or something?”
Duncan shook his head.
“She’ll recover from hitting her head on the floor. The other thing won’t go away.”
“What other thing?” I said.
“You didn’t tell her, did you?” Duncan asked. “About you, or Holly—about the ghosts? About her dad?”
“No! Of course not! I couldn’t—”
“So, she just thinks she’s losing her mind, then.”
“What else could I—?” I caught myself. I bit my lip. My hands were shaking.
“I’m sorry, Dunk. What is wrong with me? Why am I yelling at you? Why am I yelling at anybody?”
“I’m sorry, too,” Duncan said. He put his arm around my shoulder.
“I know this is hard. I shouldn’t be pushing your buttons.”
I ran my hands through my hair.
“Maybe I should tell her. Tell her everything. You know, maybe Skyler’s dad is supposed to communicate with her. Maybe that’s what that whole thing is about.”
“I can’t help you with that, Wylie. In fact, I can only think of one other person that you might talk to about it.”
“That’s just what I intend to do.”
“You’re going to London?”
“Yeah. I probably won’t be of any help—just like with her parents—but I’m going to be there.”
“I’ll come with you,” Duncan said.
“What about Nora?”
“You can ask her if you want to. But I don’t think her dad will go for it.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean—you would leave her here? You guys haven’t been apart for months.”
“Look, it’s nothing, really, but things haven’t been quite as cozy since—well, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
He didn’t look at me.
“Since that night you were on TV. When you and Skyler were…holding hands.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“That wasn’t my fault!”
“I know that,” Duncan said. “But it was just a…a shock. Everybody was here, watching. It was awful. Holly was…I don’t know. Embarrassed? Humiliated? Heart-broken? She practically ran out of the room. And…it seemed like Nora had never thought about having to trust me. It scared her, I think.”
I couldn’t think straight for a while. I paced back and forth and threw my hands around like a crazy person.
“Do you know what I am, Dunk? I’m just one, big giant infection! That’s all I do! I walk around and infect people with my…my…bullcrap!”
“Hey, uhh, Wylie,” Duncan whispered. I ignored him, while I continued to pace and wave my arms and berate myself.
“Wylie. Stop,” Duncan said.
“What is it?”
“Elvis is watching you through the door. I’m pretty sure that you’re freaking him out.”
I covered my face with my hands. I turned slightly so that I was facing away from the doors. Duncan moved in front of me.
“I’m am very grateful to have you around, Dunk—but I can’t live like this forever.”
“It won’t last forever,” Duncan said.
“Really? How do you know that?”
“I don’t,” Duncan said with a grin. “I’m just trying to stay positive. Like, I’m positive that you should get one of those blue-tooth things to put in your ear—even if it’s a fake. That way you would always have an excuse for talking to yourself.”
“That’s a good idea. How do you know about blue-tooth things?”
“Some of the tourists have them. They’re good for getting on other people’s nerves.”
“That’s the truth.”
I went inside and spent about an hour visiting before I managed to get Oliver and Gwen McFadden alone.
“What do I need to know?” I asked.
“I wish you could see the video that Robert has, but he was not about to leave that with us,” Oliver said. He leaned closer and whispered,
“You see, it seems that our niece, Tara, has abilities far beyond those that Holly has.”
Gulp.
“Far beyond? What are we talking about?”
“Telekinetic ability,” Oliver said. “Very powerful, telekinetic ability—as well as uncommon physical strength.”
“Did Holly know about this?”
“No,” Gwen said. “The army has moved Robert all around the world since they got their hands on him—”
“Now, Gwen…” Oliver said.
“Well, it’s true, Olly!” Gwen exclaimed. “They moved them so much that there was no way that child could ever have a normal life! We have not seen hide or hair of them since our first Christmas in this castle. We’ve heard nothing from them other than an occasional birthday card!”
“Holly hasn’t seen her cousin since she was six years old?” I asked.
“She was seven, that Christmas,” Oliver said.
“And Tara was…,”
“Tara was four,” Gwen said.
“Why in the world would Tara say that she would only talk to Holly—after all this time?”
“We had three familie
s visiting that Christmas,” Oliver said. “The boy cousins were not being particularly friendly toward Holly and Tara. Holly played a few tricks on them—with Nora and Charlotte’s help.”
“Oh…Wait…could Tara see them, too?”
Oliver and Gwen shrugged their shoulders.
“We don’t know,” Oliver said. “Tara didn’t say anything about them to anyone. But it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“We suspect that Tara had been seeing ghosts for her entire life,” Gwen said. “Robert said that Tara had always had an overactive imagination. She pretended to have imaginary friends—but Robert assumed that was her reaction to their moving so often.”
“They probably weren’t ‘pretend friends’ at all!” Oliver said. “And while she was still a child, she may have been under the impression that everyone could see them!”
“How could their own daughter see ghosts and they not know it?”
“I…I don’t know the answer to that,” Oliver said, sadly. “He’s my brother, Wylie. But how could I blame him? Gwen and I have avoided most of the rest of the world since the day we found out about Holly. Robert was a genius-level student, and the army was after him before he even went off to university. The army has been his second family. This…this has shaken him deeply. He’s desperate to find her—and he’s afraid of what will happen if he does.”
“Well, I may not be much help—but I can fetch coffee. Or tea.”
Gwen patted my arm.
“A nice cup of tea and a shoulder to lean on can make all the difference in the world.”
“I’ll settle for Holly not hating me.”
“Holly doesn’t hate you,” Gwen said. “We had a long talk with Quentin. We all know that you would not do anything purposely to hurt Holly.”
I sighed.
“I have loved your daughter since the first time I saw her. Some people don’t believe in things like that.”
Oliver pulled Gwen to his side.
“We’re not those people.”
I went back to the great room. I was used to seeing Duncan and Nora making “lovey-dovey” eyes at each other, as Charlotte called it. But something had changed between them, and I hated that. It made me more determined than ever to patch things up with Holly.
I heard the front door open. I looked around and saw yet another familiar face—my Aunt Jessie. She carried some clothes on hangers. She hung them on one of the coat hooks in the entryway and ran to hug me. Her mouth was next to my ear.
“Oh, my, there’s Dunky!” she whispered. “Don’t worry. I’m being cool! I’m being cool!”
“You’d better be cool!” I whispered back. “We still have a few guests who don’t know everything.”
I watched Jessie hug Nate and Tooie. She said hello to the others.
She kissed Quentin.
On the lips.
WHAT?
“I thought you got lost,” Q said to Jessie.
“No, no,” Jessie said. “The robot lady who lives in your bus told me exactly where to go.”
“I could have driven you,” Q said.
“Of course, you could. And if I had let you drive me back to your condo because I broke the strap on my shoe, I would have a Cinderella complex for the rest of my life.”
I looked down at Jessie’s feet. She was wearing cross-trainers.
“I shot some baskets while I was there,” Jessie said. “I played in high school, you know.”
“You are a fascinating woman,” Q said.
“And only a fascinating man has a basketball goal in his living room.”
“I’m glad that you enjoyed it.”
Jessie raised her right arm.
“Got a good workout. I’m all sweaty. See?”
That’s my Jessie.
Duncan circled around behind me and whispered in my ear.
“I want to show you something. You and Nate and Jessie.”
I got Nate and Jessie’s attention. I nodded toward the hallway where Duncan waved at me. They followed me. Tooie came too.
We followed Duncan into one of the old parlors, where Quentin had his keyboards set up. I’m still not sure how well Quentin can play. He always uses headphones whenever I’m around, and he seems self-conscious about his playing.
When we all filed inside, Duncan asked me to close the door. And lock it.
What in the world is this about? I thought.
I held out a hand to Nate and to Jessie. Tooie stomped her foot.
“Oh, Nate!” Tooie said in a whispered scream. “There are people out there who don’t know about all of this! What if I mess up?”
“You’ll be fine, Tooie,” I said. “Duncan wants to show us something.”
I grabbed Nate’s and Jessie’s hands. Tooie held on to Nate’s. I waited while they all had a brief reunion.
“What did you want to show us, Baby?” Jessie asked.
Duncan moved past Quentin’s keyboards. He stepped behind an acoustic guitar mounted on a stand. He stepped behind the guitar and reached his right hand across the strings.
Duncan moved his fingers back and forth a few times. Nothing happened. He stared down at his fingers. I started to feel bad for him. His fingers stopped moving. I could see the deep concentration on his face.
Duncan moved his index finger. The low E-string made a quiet sound.
He raised his left hand and wrapped it around the neck of the guitar. He played, on one string, a crude series of fifteen notes. He looked up at us and grinned.
Jessie burst into tears. Her eyes were the happiest eyes I had ever seen tears come out of. I looked at Nate, who was barely holding himself together. He was doing better than I was.
For the first time in eleven years, we heard Duncan play the guitar riff to “Iron Man”.
Thirty-Five
Wylie Westerhouse
New York, New York
Wellmore Village, Scotland
Making Quentin Lynchburg my manager was a good move on my part. He reminded me that my face was suddenly much too familiar to move about with any degree of anonymity. He went shopping for me. I now had a fake goatee, some old-fashioned round glasses, and a really, really ugly sweater vest.
“Come on, Q!” I said. “You expect me to wear this vest?”
He laughed.
“Trust me, Wylie. If you want to make sure that no woman gives you a second look, this is the way to go.”
He was right about that.
Duncan and I got off the plane in New York when I remembered that I had no way to get in touch with Holly or her uncle. I called the castle and got Major Jamison’s number from Mr. McFadden.
“Do you want me to let them know you’re on your way?” Mr. McFadden asked.
“Well, Sir,” I said. “I’m not sure that Holly is going to be happy to see me. I really don’t want to give her the chance to talk me out of coming.”
“Suit yourself, then,” he said. “Robert will appreciate the support.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I said. “For everything.”
We landed in London and took the shuttle to our hotel. I took a shower and walked out of the bathroom to find Duncan fumbling with the TV remote.
“Any luck?”
“Not yet,” Duncan said. “I’ve been trying to find Monty Python or Benny Hill. Those shows are funny even if I can’t understand half of what they say. The rest of these shows might as well be Japanese.”
I picked up the phone.
“Well, here goes nothing.”
“Hello?” the voice on the other end of the line said.
“Hello,” I said. “Is this Major Jamison?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“My name is Wylie. Wylie Westerhouse.”
“Who?” Oh, wait. You’re Holly’s friend,” Major Jamison said. “You wish to speak with her.”
“Yes, Sir. If I could, please.”
“Yes?” Holly said. I don’t think she was happy to hear from me.
“Hi. I’m here—in London.
”
“Your tour has come to Europe already? You and your young lady friend must be doing quite well.”
“I guess you haven’t heard. The tour is suspended.”
“No, I didn’t hear that,” Holly said. “Suspended? Why?”
“We didn’t even make it through the first show. Skyler fell and hit her head after she saw her father.”
“Oh, my God! Is she all right?”
“She’ll be fine—physically, anyway.”
“Seeing her father make her fall?” Holly asked.
“He died two years ago.”
“She touched you…”
“Yeah.”
“I should have never—do you see why it was so hard for me to tell anyone, Wylie?”
I could hear the anguish in her voice.
“If it had occurred to me for one minute that the sight would stay with you permanently, I would not have—!”
“And my brother would be sleeping on the end of my sofa, driving Toby insane. And I would never have known a damned thing, Holly! He might have stayed there until I died of old age!”
A few seconds of uncomfortable silence followed.
“Please,” I said. “Don’t do that to yourself. You did what you thought was right. And for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. And I will never change my mind about that.”
More silence.
“Anyway, we’re here. In London. Where are you?”
“We?” Holly said. “Who is with you?”
“Duncan.
“Is Nora with you, as well?”
“No.”
“I’ve made a mess of that, too. Just go back home, Wylie. Please.”
“What? I’m not going back home! Where are you?”
“Whatever happens here—this is not going to be pretty,” Holly said. “And the more people involved, the worse it could be.”
“I am not leaving. Tell me where you are, or I start making phone calls until I find you.”