Finding Midnight (12 page)

“Oh, my God. Tori, I’m sorry. I’ve been
doing that a lot lately. The air must be unusually dry,” Summer
said.

“I don’t think so. My hair will go frizzy
when the air is dry and though my green streaks are fading, I’m
having a rather good hair day, if I don’t say so myself,” Tori
said, tossing her locks.

“You are, definitely. I guess it’s just a
fluke, but I’ve been zapping things for the last couple of days.
Maybe I’m shuffling my feet,” Summer laughed. “So you’ve been
missing me, huh? Figured you’d be so busy with Nick that you’d
hardly notice me being gone.”

“I always miss girl time. Nick’s great—he’s
gorgeous, he’s a vamp, he’s—”

“Great to you,” Summer inserted.

“Yeah! He’s all that, but, let’s face it,
he’s still a guy and a girl NEEDS her bestest friend to hang with
once in a while,” Tori admitted.

“Everything is okay though, right? You two
are good?”

“Oh yeah! Things are fine. I mean, he just
says dumb guy things every once in a while that irk me.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know, when he tells me I ‘shouldn’t
feel that way’ or tells me how I need to ‘fix’ something when all I
wanted to do was talk about it. I mean, what is it with men? Why do
they feel they need to tell you how to do everything? And why is it
so hard to close a cabinet door after opening it? I just about
slammed my head into one the other day coming into the kitchen. I
swear, every one of them was open. And don’t get me started on the
toilet seat…I just about killed myself falling into the pot the
other night.”

Summer tried to hold back a laugh at the
thought of her friend lit only by the moonlight coming in the
window, bent like a ‘V’ in the toilet, flailing her arms and legs
trying to get out.

“I know. Believe me, it was not a pretty
sight,” Tori said, but then started to laugh. “Speaking of
guys…have you heard from Jackson?”

“No. Why?”

“No? I’m surprised. He’s called the clinic a
couple of times since you’ve been gone, looking for you. I just
assumed he called here.”

“No. In fact I was kind of wondering if he
had second thoughts about me,” Summer said sadly.

“Everything Nick has said suggests Jackson
really likes you. I wonder if he lost your cellphone number and is
just too embarrassed to ask for it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe we should do a foursome again? We
could do movie night here in the graveyard. Wouldn’t that be
awesome? We could put up a white sheet and borrow that projector
Dr. Stuart uses at meetings. That would be so cool. Like a
picnic.”

“In the graveyard?” Summer said, crinkling
her nose at the thought of sitting on someone’s grave.

“Where else? We could stream a movie onto my
laptop and watch some great old classic, like
The Wolfman
or
The Bride of Frankenstein
,” Tori said, giddy at the
thought.

“Sure. We could do that, if you want,”
Summer said, uncertain that a night watching movies in the
graveyard would be anything but weird and gross.

“Great…I’ll set it all up. Do you think the
old bat will be all right with it?”

“I don’t think she’ll care as long as we
aren’t too loud and keep it closer to my side of the yard.”

“Super. How about tomorrow night?” Tori
asked.

“Sure. What should I get to eat?” Summer
asked.

“Leave it to me. You don’t have to do a
thing. I’ll bring everything and set it all up.”

“Okay,” Summer said. “You’re the boss.” She
laughed as Tori pulled a small notebook from her coffin-shaped
purse and started writing notes about what needed to be brought and
done for her dream movie night in the graveyard under the
stars.

Chapter 11

Tori was true to her word—she brought
everything but the kitchen sink. As to setting up, well, let’s just
say Tori had big ideas, but only two hands where four to six were
needed. Summer didn’t mind. She and Sully followed Tori around and
did as she instructed. The last time Summer had seen Tori this
excited to organize an event was when they were in the sixth grade
and Tori was chosen to head up the sets and props for their class
play about Jonah and the Whale.

During one of their breaks, Summer received
a call from Dr. Stuart.

“Summer, just wanted to let you know I
hunted down Clair.”

“Oh, good. Has she rented the house
out?”

“Yes, quite recently, in fact.”

“Well, I suppose it’s good I didn’t go and
jimmy the lock then.”

“Yes. I think that would have been
surprising for the both of you.”

“At least the cat I saw wasn’t trapped in
the house. Come to think of it, he was rather rotund—certainly not
the look of a starving cat, but he certainly looked scared. The
weird thing is I haven’t seen any sign of the renter—no car, no
lights, nothing.”

“That is odd. Maybe he travels a lot.”

“Maybe. Clair didn’t happen to give the name
of the renter, did she?”

“No, but then I didn’t ask.”

“No reason you should have, I just wondered
if she offered. Thank you for calling her. It doesn’t make me feel
one hundred percent better, but at least I won’t be put in jail for
breaking and entering.”

“No problem. Enjoy your ‘movie under the
stars.’”

“Oh, you heard about that.”

“Yes. Tori told me about it when she asked
to use the projector. Sounds like fun,” Dr. Stuart said.

“Maybe. I’m not excited about sitting on
someone’s grave, but Tori is having so much fun setting it up, I
couldn’t possibly burst her bubble.”

“I better go. Got to stop by the clinic and
check up on Buster.”

“Right. See you Monday.”

*****

Summer had to admit that though she still
felt awkward sitting on a blanketed grave propped up with pillows
against ancient tombstones, the evening was quite lovely. They had
sub sandwiches and soda, along with popcorn and licorice whips to
munch on while they watched
Young Frankenstein
—one of
Summer’s all-time favorite comedies.

The weather that evening was perfect. They
started the movie about the time the sky turned from pinks and
purples to violet and indigo. On occasion, a light caress of air
would blow by, fluttering the tied sheet that was posing as a
screen. It had been warm during the day, but the evening brought on
delectable coolness from the snow-capped mountain peaks.

There was not much alone time with Jackson,
but maybe that was what Summer and Jackson needed. With them both
quite shy around the opposite sex, a movie double date kept the
stress of keeping up small talk to a minimum. Summer felt relaxed
sitting under the stars touching shoulders ever so slightly with
Jackson. They laughed, ate and threw popcorn at Nick and Tori every
time they started smooching. Sully lay with his head in Summer’s
lap, keeping a watchful eye on Jackson. Summer wasn’t sure but she
thought Jackson had made an attempt to put his arm around her a
couple of times, to which Sully raised his head in disapproval and
Jackson withdrew.

Summer also noticed that Sully’s eyes
watered some and he seemed to be sniffing a bit. If she didn’t know
better, she would guess Sully might be coming down with a little
cold or allergies. She might have reprimanded him at discouraging
Jackson’s advances, but she figured there was plenty of time for
that in the future, and if Sully was getting sick, he was her
priority.

Several times during the evening she thought
she heard a voice. Not really words per se, but moans of discomfort
or pain, maybe even boredom. She caught herself looking over her
shoulder behind the tombstone, to see nothing. By the reactions of
the others, it was apparent she was the only one hearing the voice
and she wrote it off as some kind of sound distortion from the
movie bouncing off the trees and buildings, being moved around in
the breeze.

During a potty break after the first movie,
Tori busied herself setting up the next show on the projector with
her computer. Jackson and Summer headed back to the cottage to make
another batch of popcorn and recycle the soda and beer cans and
bottles. Sully darted off after something in the woods, barking as
he went. Summer laughed at him as he lumbered away, ears flopping
and tail wagging. He looked so out of proportion with his giant
feet and legs that looked too long for his growing body.

Jackson and Summer chatted while they waited
for the microwave to pop the popcorn. Jackson sat on the little
sofa with a chewed cushioned. Summer cringed at the memory of
Sully’s first morning in the small house. She needed to find a new
chair. Readjusting his position, Jackson pulled a manila pouch from
between the cushions and looked it over. “Did you lose this?” he
asked.

She stiffened when she saw the envelope and
took it from his offering hand. “No. Not exactly. I’ve just been
avoiding it.”

“Why?” he asked. “What’s in it?”

“I haven’t a clue. It was something the
sisters found in my swaddling when they found me,” she answered,
turning the envelope over and over.

“And you haven’t opened it because…?” he
asked with concern.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m a little scared
of what I will find inside.”

“Afraid? What could possibly be inside that
you’d be afraid of?”

“Information. My past. A feasible reason why
I was abandoned,” she said.

“But isn’t that a good thing?” he asked,
setting his comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I suppose. I guess, when you’ve wondered
for so long. The possibilities of the answer are a little scary,”
she said trying to work out her fear in her head as she verbalized
it.

“Information and truth are good things, it’s
what you do with them that make them bad. Think of all the worries
you can throw away with the truth the contents might reveal. Open
it. I’ll hold your hand, literally if you like, or I can get
Tori.”

“No. Having you here is fine. I appreciate
it. Okay. Here goes nothing,” she said, tearing the paper at one
end. Before pouring the contents into her lap she looked to Jackson
for encouragement and took a deep breath. She tipped the pouch and
out rolled out a wooden cube with beautiful markings of red, black,
yellow and brown. She felt a little disappointed. She picked it up
turned it this way and that admiring the craftsmanship then
shrugged her shoulders at him. “It’s a block of wood. Nothing super
revealing there.” The microwave dinged and Summer handed him the
cube. He silently inspected the small box.

Summer poured the fluffy white kernels of
hot popcorn into a large bowl, and headed for the sofa, tossing a
piece of popcorn that didn’t make it into the bowl into her mouth.
She sat, setting the full dish on the coffee table in front of
them.

She turned her attention to the wooden box
in his hands. “It’s kind of cool looking, don’t you think?”

“Cool? This is a work of art. I’ve never
seen one so intricately designed and the workmanship is, well, it’s
perfect.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “You’ve
seen one of these before?”

“Well, not one of this magnitude, but yes,
many.”

“Really? Great, then you can tell me what
the heck it is?”

He did a double take, then announced as if
he was astounded she didn’t know, “It’s a Japanese puzzle box—one
of the most magnificent ones I’ve ever seen too.”

“A puzzle box?”

“Yes. These are often given at weddings or
other special occasions. Money is sometimes placed within.
Sometimes tiny presents,” he explained.

“Really? How do you open it?” she asked,
intrigued by his excitement.

“Each master artist has their own design
secrets. Sometimes they are simple—maybe two or three moves will
open the box; others are very complicated having over a hundred
steps. They were used to keep important documents or secrets inside
them, and then later, they became a fun way to give money or
trinkets.”

He pointed to the pattern on the box, “This
pattern here with the different colored circles—that is called the
‘Yakko’ pattern. And this one here that looks like diamond fish
scales—that is called ‘Nami.’ Each of the colors is a different
wood. The masters take deep pride in making these amazing patterns
with no dyes or paints.”

“Really. I thought it was painted, hmm,” she
said with interest.

“In the area where these are made, Hakone,
there are many different native woods, giving the artist a wide
array of colors for their marquetry.”

“Where is Hakone?” she asked.

“South of Tokyo,” he answered.

“And they’ve been making these for a long
time?”

“At least a hundred years. There are two
main styles each named after their designer: ‘Hikimono’ and
‘Sashimono.’ ‘Hikimono’ includes various products, including bowls
and toys. ‘Sashimono’ is mainly boxes decorated with surface
mosaics like the ones you see here.”

“Can you open it?”

“Probably, but one might say that opening
the box is part of the journey to the secrets it holds,” he
smiled.

She grimaced, disappointed he would not be
more accommodating.

“Well, I suppose I could show you the first
move—get you pointed in the right decoration,” he said, trying to
appease her.

Summer’s face lit up and he took that as
permission to make the first move (on the box, that is). He turned
it slowly and she watched as he nimbly placed a finger here and
another there—then voila—a piece moved where she’d never even seen
a seam in the wood.

“There. That should get you started,” he
said, happy to have made her smile.

“Thank you,” she said as she looked over the
box with the small protruding piece, now making the pretty box look
rather imperfect. She slid the piece back to its original place
then back out again. “I see. How very clever,” she said, marveling
at being able to move a piece. “You seem to know an awful lot about
puzzle boxes.”