A Perfect Storm (8 page)

But contributing most to my glum mood was the fact that Duggan had not returned. I'd sat in the blue bedroom reading for almost two hours, hoping he would show up, but he didn't. I was beginning to believe that he might never return. That I'd never get the message my mother had sent me.

I was also confused about Mason. Why hadn't he texted me in the past few days? Why was he the only one in his whole friend group that wasn't attending Stellamar? Was he avoiding me?

And then the next day, Friday, as I was approaching my locker in the morning hallway traffic, I practically ran into him. Mason.

He was there. At Stellamar. Looking very student-like, with his backpack slung over one shoulder and his headphones clamped around his neck.

I'm not sure which of us was more surprised to see the other one. We both stood there, staring at each other.

Mason spoke first.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I said. I waited for him to explain.

“Guess you're surprised to see me, huh?”

“Um, yeah. I thought you got shipped out somewhere else. Calvin told us Ocean Heights Middle School.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that was the plan at first. But my mom pulled some strings. When we learned that Cal and a couple of my other friends were all coming here, she called the principal and asked her if I could be sent here. It took an extra day, but they made it happen.” He grinned a little sheepishly. “So here I am.”

I could feel a dumb grin spreading across my face. I tried not to act too psyched. But I was.

“Mason? No way!” shrieked a voice behind me.

I turned and saw Jody.

Jody gave Mason a big hug. This alarmed me. The jealousy roiled around inside me, even though I told myself they were just friends. That she had a boyfriend in high school. But still. A gorgeous girl was hugging my crush.

“So you made it to Stellamar!” she squealed, clasping her hands and bouncing a little. “That is awe-
some
.”

“Yeah, well, I was just, ah, talking about it with Sara here,” said Mason.

I appreciated that he was trying to include me in
the conversation. Jody kind of half nodded in my direction and then turned her attention back to Mason.

“Hey, listen, Mace,” she said.

Mace?

“I'm having a get-together at my house tonight to plan for the auction next week. Can you come over? Like, around seven? We're ordering tons of takeout and stuff.”

Mason glanced at me, and then at Jody. “Sure,” he said. “Sounds cool.”

The bell rang. We all had to get to class.

So Mason was definitely going to be at the get-together tonight. And I definitely was not going to be.

I was thinking the day couldn't get worse. And then it did.

I was heading out of social studies class when I almost ran smack-dab into the gym teacher spirit.

“Collins!” he said.

I groaned inwardly.

“I'll walk with you,” he said, noticing that everyone was moving toward their next class. Without waiting for me to agree, he hitched up his polyester-looking gym pants and fell into step alongside me. Out of the
corner of my eye I noticed he was in a semitransparent state, and that as we walked side by side, real kids heading in the other direction passed right through him without feeling his presence.

I pulled out my copy of
Julius Caesar
and opened it to a random page so it would look as though I was reading words out loud to myself. Maybe people would think I was trying to recite lines from memory, rather than talking to some invisible person next to me. I hoped so. “Listen,” I said in a low voice, still staring down at the book. “It's not that I'm trying to be rude. It's just that I'm in school. I need you to leave me—”

“. . . a message. For you.”

I stopped and stared at him. We'd been talking over each other, without listening to what the other was saying. But suddenly I was all ears.

“Did you just say something about a message?” I asked him. I noticed some passing sixth graders had turned around to look at me curiously. I stared back down at
Julius Caesar
.

“Did you just say something about delivering a message?” I asked again, still looking down at my book. Did he mean the message Duggan had spoken about?
Had he found it somehow? Did he know Duggan?

“Yep. I need you to go see Evelyn Diamond. She lives at the Cherry Hill Retirement Home,” he said, his voice getting lower and gruffer than usual. “Tell her from me that Barkus was—” He took a breath. Swallowed. Dabbed at a corner of his eye. Cleared his throat and began again. “Tell her Barkus luh-loved her. That he was on his way to ask her to marry him when—when a truck passed him going the other direction, and it had crossed over the middle line, and that Barkus swerved his pickup and slid off the road and, well, he—that is, I—never got the chance to tell her.” He sniffed loudly. “I was a darn fool to have waited so long.”

I nodded. His message had nothing to do with me. It was just some unfinished business he had, that he needed my help taking care of. I had learned from Lady Azura that sometimes spirits are trapped here, in our world, because they have stuff they need to take care of. I was obligated to do my best to help him. I looked up and saw tears shimmering in his eyes. I felt a lump in my own throat and swallowed it back. We'd arrived at my classroom. The second bell was about to ring.

I stared down at my book and spoke to him. “Mrs. Diamond?” I asked.

“Miss.
Miss
Diamond. She never married. I was too lunkheaded to get up the nerve to ask her until it was too late,” he said. “She taught home ec. She used to bring me baked goods her students had made.” He produced a large handkerchief from somewhere and blew his nose so loudly I couldn't believe the whole school couldn't hear it. But no one heard him except me.

The bell rang. I turned to him. “Okay. I'll go this afternoon,” I said. “I promise.”

“Good show, Collins,” he said. “Tell her I was a lunkhead, remember.” He was beginning to fade. “I knew you were varsity material the day I first laid eyes on you!”

He faded away to nothing. I smiled and hurried into my classroom.

Cherry Hill Retirement Home looked more like a condominium complex than a nursing home. When I pushed open the wide, handicap-accessible doors, I braced myself for the worst. I hate nursing homes. Back in California, I'd once had to go with my dad to visit his great-uncle, and the place smelled awful, of medicine and disinfectant masking some other, darker odors. When we got to his room, my dad's great-uncle didn't even recognize him.

But Cherry Hill was not a bit like that awful place. It was cheerful. Sun streamed in, and there were potted plants in the hallways. The windows were hung with checkered curtains that looked like someone had spent a lot of time sewing them.

The lady at the front desk cheerfully directed me toward the sitting room, telling me I'd find Miss
Diamond watching her favorite show on the Home and Garden channel.

There were several old people sitting around the sitting room, but just one who seemed to be interested in what was on TV—it was a craft show teaching people how to make hats out of margarine tubs.

Miss Diamond was tiny, maybe even smaller than Lady Azura. She was wrapped in a hand-crocheted pink shawl and wearing a teal-blue, pleated skirt. I wondered if she'd sewn it herself.

“Excuse me, Miss Diamond?” I whispered.

She didn't turn from her show.

I tried again, louder. “Miss Diamond?” I repeated.

She turned, and then tilted up her chin and peered at me. Her eyes behind her glasses were enormous. She tilted her chin back down. “Sit down, young lady,” she commanded.

I sat. She still had her teacher's way about her.

“Your name, child?”

“Sara Collins, ma'am.”

“You're a pretty thing. Lovely hair and eyes. Do you know how to knit?”

“Knit?” I asked, startled. “Um, no.”

She shook her head. “Kids these days. What do they teach them in those schools?” She turned to me. “Don't tell me. You're here to do a report about the Great Depression for school and you need to interview someone.”

“Um, not exactly.”

“Well I wasn't alive during the Civil War, so don't ask me about that.”

“No, ma'am. I'm here to—to, well, I know it sounds strange, but I'm here to give you a message.”

“A message.”

“Yes. From—from Mr. Barkus.”

She jerked her chin up and stared at me for a long time, like a fish in an aquarium. Searched my face. I guess she decided I wasn't making fun of her or playing some awful joke, because slowly she lowered her chin and leaned in toward me.

“Mr. Barkus has given you a message for me?” Her voice was suddenly soft.

“Yes, ma'am. You see, I—well, I can see him. And talk to him.”

She nodded. Like I'd just said something totally ordinary.

“Perhaps you think me an old fool for believing you,” she said.

“No, ma'am. I'm actually really relieved that you do.”

“Humph. Well, the older I get, the more willing I am to believe such things,” she said. “All right, child. Tell me. What is the message Mr. Barkus asked you to deliver to me?”

“He asked me to tell you that he—he loved you. That he was on his way to ask you to marry him the night that his pickup slid off the road. That he should have told you earlier, but he was a . . . a big lunkhead.”

I sat with my hands folded in my lap and waited for her to say something.

She was quiet for a very long time. Then a slow smile spread across her wrinkly face. A glint of a tear appeared in the corner of her eye.

“That old fool,” she said, shaking her head and continuing to smile. “I know you're telling me the truth, because he used that word a lot. Lunkhead.”

She reached out and patted my hand, and then turned away, pulling an embroidered white hanky out from the folds of her shawl. “Thank you, pretty young
girl,” she said, over her shoulder. “You've made an old lady very happy.”

When I left a little while later, I had a big smile on my face.

That evening I had dinner with Lady Azura.
My dad was working late. I made us omelets and toast. I was glad that my visit with Miss Diamond had been so pleasant. I was almost able to not dwell on the fact that all my friends were currently at Jody Jenner's house, having a fabulous time. Without me.

“You came home late this afternoon,” Lady Azura remarked, taking a dainty bite of her omelet.

“I had to run an errand. At Cherry Hill Retirement Home,” I said.

She waited. Picked up her teacup and took a sip, her large, honey-brown eyes regarding me above the rim as she did so.

I realized I needed to explain. I told her about my errand on Mr. Barkus's behalf.

Lady Azura was beaming by the time I finished my story.

“I knew the both of them,” she said.

I looked at her in astonishment.

“Miss Diamond taught us home ec,” she said. “She was a lovely young woman, and it was her first year of teaching. She didn't look much older than we were, although I suppose she had to be. In those days, girls took home ec and boys took shop. I never knew she and Mr. Barkus were closely acquainted. He was a coach, and I had very little interaction with him. Because girls didn't do sports in those days either.”

I reflected on this. It was kind of hard to believe how much she had lived through during her lifetime. All those changes she'd witnessed.

“But I do remember hearing of his death years after I graduated.” She shook her head. “You did a lovely thing today. I am sure Mr. Barkus won't be hounding you quite so much at school anymore. And that lovely Miss Diamond.” She sighed. “You're never too old to experience true love.”

I sighed. “Well, I know what it feels like not to be able to receive a message. If I can't get Duggan to deliver a message from my mother, at least I can make sure others receive
their
messages.”

She patted my hand. “Good things come to those
who wait, my dear,” she said. “If there is a message waiting for you from your mother, it will reveal itself when the time is right.”

I wanted to believe her. Wanted to think that I would find out what the message was. But I was getting impatient. I didn't like waiting. I'd been waiting for thirteen years already. How much longer did I have to wait?

We heard my dad's tires crunching on the gravelly driveway. A moment later he was coming through the kitchen door. I jumped up to set a place for him, and began cracking eggs into a bowl.

My dad sat down wearily at the kitchen table and loosened his tie while I dropped a pat of butter into the pan. As it sizzled, I plugged the teakettle back in.

“Listen, kiddo,” he said to me. “I saw Lily's mom today when I was leaving for work. She told me about the auction that's happening next Friday. And how it's the same night as Costi's wedding. The auction sounds like a big deal. Would you rather go to that and not come to the wedding? I'd understand if you wanted to do that.”

I poured my dad a cup of tea, then dumped the eggs into the pan and swirled them around as it sizzled,
smelling delightfully of butter. “Dad, I'm going to the wedding with you,” I said firmly, plunking the tea down in front of him.

He and Lady Azura exchanged glances.

“I've spent a lot of time with the spirit in the pink bedroom,” I explained. “So I understand what it means to appreciate your family. I'm going to the wedding.”

My dad knew who I was talking about. I had told him a little bit about her, and how her baby had died and she used to cry all the time.

“That's a lovely way to look at the world, Sara,” said Lady Azura approvingly.

My dad smiled at me. Then he curled his large hands around his mug of tea and stared off into space.