by Abby Cooper
I turned to face him.
“It wasn’t?”
“No,” he said. “You might not want to believe it, but I’m not actually a jerk.”
I cracked a small smile. “I know you’re not. So why did you bring her here?”
Clue shrugged. “I kept an eye on you, like I said. And from what I noticed, you seemed like you could use a friend,” he said in a quiet voice. “You still seem that way.”
I raised my eyebrows. “So you’re saying Zoe’s not a good friend?”
“I’m not saying that,” he said. “But maybe you shouldn’t care if your best friend has other friends.”
“So you’re saying I’m not a good friend.”
“I’m not saying that either! I’m just saying…maybe your friendship isn’t what you think it is.”
I folded my arms across my chest. That wasn’t true.
Except maybe it was. The truth was, I stressed about my best-friendship all the time.
“It wasn’t like that with Harper?” I asked.
Clue shook his head as the bus rolled to a stop. “Nah,” he said. “I mean, she had a ton of friends. But she and I were the ultimate friends, even for being siblings. We could talk about everything, like her tumor. Or laugh about anything, like our Pop’s bad sense of direction, even with a GPS. Once we were trying to go to that one fancy grocery store in Denver and we ended up in Wyoming.”
I giggled as Ray announced it was time for lunch. “Everybody off!” he called. “We’ve got egg salad and tuna salad. Please think about what you want as you exit the vehicle so we can hand out sandwiches quickly and efficiently.”
Clue scooted out and made room for me to stand in the aisle. As I waited my turn to get off, I had a lot to think about. Sandwiches were only the beginning.
* * *
“Okay, Clue.”
I went up to him after we ate and before I lost my nerve. The egg salad churned around in my stomach.
“Okay what?”
“Okay, you can make the switch. Zoe’s important to me, but she’s not my sister. We’re not as close as you and Harper were.”
I couldn’t believe what I was saying, but there I was, saying it.
“No,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows. “What?”
He took a gulp of water. “What if there was a way we could have them both?”
Heat rose to my cheeks. “I thought you said that wouldn’t work.”
Clue stood up. “I never actually tried it.”
My pulse raced. “You said you did. Twice.”
“Well, I didn’t,” he snapped. Then quietly, he added, “I was too chicken.” He started walking toward a small woodsy area near the picnic tables. “Come on,” he called.
My heart thudded. There was no time to worry or wonder or wish. I just had to trust him, even though he was obviously upset about something.
“Wait up,” I called.
Of course Bo and Fallan had to follow us.
“Sorry,” I whispered to Clue. “I didn’t mean to get us stuck babysitting.”
He gazed at his little sister. “It’s cool. I like being near her.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said as I watched Bo.
Clue turned back to me, all business.
“Okay,” he said. “So here’s my idea. I used three drops of pond water to bring Zoe to life. I’m wondering if maybe I need to use more drops on Harper, since she was a real person.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Plus, I only have two years of Zoe stories. You have way more than that about Harper, right?”
“Uh-huh. So maybe I do what I did to your notebook, but I double the amount of drops.”
“Or even triple or quadruple,” I added, “just to be sure.”
“And if I leave your notebook out entirely, it shouldn’t impact Zoe.”
“But, um, Clue. One little thing. We’re in Arizona. There’s no magical Tiveda pond here.”
“That’s why I brought this!” Clue pulled a tube out of his backpack like he was a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. It seemed like a lot of magicians got that wrong, but Clue knew exactly what he was doing. The tube was the same one I’d seen him use at the pond, and sure enough, it was full of murky, bubbly, awesome water.
“Amazing,” I said.
He took a loud breath. “You know what they say—never leave home without a tube of magical water.”
I laughed. “Do they say that?”
“I say that,” he said with a smile. Clue hadn’t taken his eyes off the tube of water.
I watched it too. “So you think Harper makes the magic happen?”
He thought for a minute.
“I think the pond is magical,” he said, “like she always believed. It just needed a little extra help from her.” He stood up straighter. “She’ll make it happen now.”
Clue slowly opened the tube and tipped it toward his notebook. Even with the kids playing nearby, all I could hear was my heartbeat, which seemed louder than ever.
“Here we go,” Clue said. He mumbled some words while staring at the tube of water, steadying himself to pour drops of it onto his notebook. His concentration was intense. I couldn’t look away.
Suddenly, Bo and Fallan appeared right beside us.
“We made a picture!” Fallan announced. Bo waved it in our faces.
Clue jumped and dropped the tube and the notebook. The water—all the water—flew out and splattered, soaking the cover of the notebook and probably some of the pages inside. It was more than double the drops that went on mine. More than triple. More than quadruple.
For a second everything was quiet. It was like all four of us were taking a collective breath and holding it tight, afraid of what might happen if we let it go.
29
The Crying Game
I squeezed my eyes closed as hard as I could.
When I opened my eyes, nothing had changed. The water had spilled, big time, and it wasn’t the only water around, either. Tears streamed down Clue’s face. There was no Harper in sight.
I put a hand on Clue’s shoulder. “You know what they say,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t cry over spilled water.”
He didn’t laugh or ask Do they say that? or anything. He just flipped through the pages and looked around as his eyes filled all over again.
“We’ll be home in a couple days,” I said. “We can get more water and try again then.” My voice came out quiet and not very convincing. I knew how a couple of days could feel like forever.
Tears formed in my eyes, too, but I couldn’t cry. Not right now. Bo and Fallan were watching us.
OPPSERVATION: Sometimes you feel a thousand kinds of horrible and you have no idea what to do, but you have to pretend to be tough because a couple little kids are depending on you. And then you actually feel sort of tough.
Questions for further research: Am I tough for real?
I cleared my throat. “Don’t worry,” I told them. “Clue is just playing…um…the crying game.”
“What’s the crying game?” Fallan asked.
“Well, the crying game is…um…a game…where you pretend to cry.”
Okay, this was not going well. But when I glanced at Clue out of the corner of my eye, he was…was he actually? Yes! He was laughing through his tears.
He raised an eyebrow at me and mouthed the crying game? Really? And then he burst out laughing again. And so did I.
I turned back to the kids. “I confess,” I told them. “Clue was not playing a game. He was sad. It’s okay to be sad.”
Bo and Fallan nodded. Then they gave Clue big hugs and went back to playing.
I sat down next to him. “You okay?” I asked.
He exhaled. “Yeah. No. I don’t know. That’s why I didn’t try it before, for real,” he adde
d. “That’s why I made Zoe come to life first. I was stalling. I mean, I wanted to give you a friend. But I was also scared that it wouldn’t work with Harper.” He stared up at the sky and blinked a bunch of times.
“Sorry it got messed up,” I said.
Clue rubbed a hand along the top of his head. “What am I going to do now?” he asked, more to himself than to me. “It feels like…I don’t know. It feels like it’s not meant to be.”
“We’ll come up with something else,” I told him.
Clue wiped away the last of his tears and took a breath. “Thanks, Jade. You’re a good friend.”
My heart swelled. Even though things had gone wrong, there was something really nice about being called a good friend. And all I had to do was be there for Clue when things were tough.
I’d never written a story where things weren’t fun for Zoe and me. I always glossed over things about my dad. I never once wrote a story where I really listened to Zoe or felt sad for her like I was feeling with Clue.
Maybe Mrs. Yang was right after all. Real life was great inspiration for stories. But what I was writing…it wasn’t really true to life at all. None of those situations felt as meaningful as this one did, right now. And by getting so caught up in Zoe, I’d missed out on a lot of other things going on in real life. Like the stuff with Bo. And the chance to have a real friendship with someone who’d always been right in front of my face.
My mouth twisted in a smile. Mrs. Yang always said that sometimes writers get ideas when they’re out living life, when they’re not even trying to think of things. And sure enough, I had.
Maybe it was finally time to revise.
30
Spiky Love
Once Clue’s tears had dried, we decided to head back to our parents.
When we turned at a big tree, we could see all the adults huddled around a small campfire, roasting marshmallows and chatting in quiet voices. Of course that all changed when they saw us. If you ever want to feel popular, spend a half hour away from your parents, then come back.
“Hey!” Mom stood up and wrapped Bo and me in a big hug. Dad waved with both of his arms and grinned with his entire mouth.
Suddenly I felt totally exhausted.
I fell into Mom’s arm. “Hi.”
“We have a little more time before we head back to the hotel,” she said. “Dad and I were thinking the four of us would go do some exploring on our own. Sound good?”
I nodded. I wanted to revise, but my stories would still be there after we walked around.
“That sounds great,” I said.
Mom jumped up. “Excellent. What should we do? Anyone have ideas?”
Dad yawned. “I don’t know. I think it’s pretty boring here,” he said. “Maybe we should go to my doctor’s office. Now that’s where the party is.”
I groaned. “Dad. Be serious.”
He made a pretend-offended face. “I am always serious.”
That made us giggle more. Even though Clue’s and my failed experiment was still fresh in my mind, it didn’t seem quite as horrible as Mom, Dad, Bo, and I got up and made our way to a gravelly walking trail near the picnic spot.
Dad grabbed a couple pieces of grass from the side of the path and handed them to Mom. “For you, my love.”
Mom used them to fan herself. “Isn’t he romantic?” she asked us.
“Aww,” said Bo.
“Eww,” I said.
But okay. Maybe, secretly, I thought it was pretty cute.
“You think that’s romantic,” Dad said, “check this out. I’m going to get you your own brand-new cactus.”
He bent down and pretended like he was going to pick one up.
“Dad!” Bo cried. “Those are not for picking. They are spiky, spiky, spiky!”
Dad leaned over further. “Sometimes love is spiky, bud.”
Mom laughed and pulled Dad back up. “Okay, Mr. Romantic, I think that’s enough.”
Bo kept watching the cactus. “I want spiky love.”
Mom and Dad raised their eyebrows at each other. Then they both rushed at Bo, fingernails first.
“Spiky love!” Mom shouted as she and Dad gently poked him with their nails. Bo squealed and held up his own tiny ones.
“Spiky love strikes back,” he shouted, and lunged at our parents.
“Jade’s turn,” Mom announced.
I whipped around. “My turn for wha…ah!”
I squealed as the three of them hurtled toward me with their nails out. Bo grabbed my leg and Mom held me by the shoulders as Dad gently poked my arms. It was weird! It was the best! I was dizzy with feelings. And I guess I was real dizzy, too, because I wobbled left and right. I grabbed onto Bo, who grabbed onto Mom, who grabbed onto Dad, and before I knew it, all four of us were tangled in the grass, a big pile of arms and legs and fingernails and smiles.
“You’re fun when you play with us, Jade,” Bo said.
I smiled to myself. It always seemed that they weren’t that into hanging out with me. Dad was always sitting and Mom was always moving around and Bo was always drawing. But it turned out they were doing stuff together at the same time. I thought about my walk to the pond. When I’d gotten home there was that note about Mom and Bo being out for ice cream. Or how Bo sat with Dad downstairs while I wrote about Zoe up in our room, all by myself. All this time I’d been missing out.
When we’d all caught our breath, Dad said, “Not quite as fun as a trip to the doctor, but I’ll take it.”
Mom elbowed him gently in the guts. “This would make a good story, Jade,” she said. “You should write about it. Or Bo, you could make a picture. The Levy family takes on the bad guy with the power of spiky love.”
We all laughed except for Bo, who looked very serious. “No,” he said. “I don’t need to. Jade said Can Sir is defeated.”
Mom and Dad sat up straight.
“What did you say?” Mom asked. I could hear the realization in her voice.
“I said, Can Sir is really defeated!”
Mom’s eyes went huge, the same way mine did when Bo finally told me his bad guy’s name.
“Bo, buddy,” Dad said, “you and Jade are right. Cancer is defeated. We’re lucky, because it’s going away from us for now. It doesn’t go away from everybody, but it’s finally leaving us alone, hopefully for a long, long time. Maybe even forever.”
Bo’s eyebrows furrowed together. “We should make sure he stays defeated for good,” he decided. “We should rip him up.”
“Yeah, maybe we should.” Dad’s face was all business. “Come on,” he turned to Mom and me.
The four of us walked back to the picnic area.
“Can I borrow a picture, bud?” Dad asked. Bo grabbed the one he and Fallan had tried to show Clue and me before. It was a picture of all of us—my family, Clue’s family, the other families—smiling all together, while Can Sir stood off to the side, small and alone. Carefully Dad ripped off the corner with Can Sir. Then he handed it to Mom. She ripped the crown into tiny pieces and tossed them into the fire. Then Bo took a turn, and so did I. Dad took care of the rest, and soon the corner of the paper was no more. There was nothing left.
Bo danced in a circle. “We defeated you, Can Sir,” he shouted.
The words played over and over in my head.
We defeated you, cancer.
We defeated you.
Can Sir was finally gone.
31
You Choose
The next day we drove around on the bus for a while longer, before we were back at the hotel and had time to do whatever we wanted.
And what I wanted to do, surprisingly, was work on my liver project with Clue.
We spread all our stuff out at a picnic table near the hotel. There was so much information. Like, more than I could ever imagine.
I guess i
t was lucky I didn’t have to figure it all out myself.
“I hope you don’t mind studying this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to push you so hard about it. I just thought it might help. I knew your dad had some kind of cancer. I figured it out when Mr. Kremen was all concerned about you during the class about livers.”
I flipped through some pages of the book in front of me. I was expecting all the liver stuff to freak me out or make me mad. At first it had, but right now it wasn’t doing that at all. It was actually making me feel sort of…calm. And weirdly powerful. Sure, the liver was the boss of a lot more than a little blobby thing should be, but it didn’t get to determine everything. I wouldn’t let it. Not anymore.
“No, it’s okay,” I told him. “I think this was a good idea.”
I jotted down some notes and let the sun wash over me.
“You doing okay?” I asked him.
He nodded. “I think so. Thanks for checking.”
I took some more notes. I had no idea the liver weighed around three pounds. That was massive! No wonder Dad’s made him feel so bad.
I smiled up at Clue between notes. I always thought friends just went along with things. That they kept life simple and easy for each other. But it was cool of Clue to push for this project. Now I was figuring out why Dad needed a good, strong liver in the first place. Even though understanding the liver didn’t make Dad’s disease go away, something about learning this stuff made me feel a lot better.
I snuck a glance at Clue across the table. He looked back at me and smiled.
“Hey, Clue,” I said. It was going to be a hard question, but I forced myself to ask it anyway. “You said Harper had a brain tumor, right?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Maybe next time we can work on a project about that.”
Slowly, Clue nodded. “Maybe we can,” he said.
* * *
“I think I really messed up,” I told Clue by the pool when we took a break from our project a little later.