Summer of Lost and Found (24 page)

Lila slowed down for me to catch up. “This probably goes without saying, but thanks for saving me,” I said. “Even though I assume that means you were probably spying, right?”

She shrugged. “Well, of course I was spying on you, but I hadn't set out to. I was at the Waterside Theatre, taking some readings. I have to do that in the morning, before they start getting ready for the show. While I was poking around, I saw you in the distance—in that boat. You did
not
look like you knew what you were doing, and I could see the storm clouds rolling in.” She grinned. “So I saved my friend, and I found a ghost colonist. Double win.”

Friend
. I wobbled a little on my bike.
Has Lila considered me one this whole time?
“Lila, I know I haven't been the friendliest to you.” Worry flickered across her face. “Why didn't you give up on me?”

She shrugged. “First of all, I didn't want
you
to solve the mystery. I had to keep an eye on my competition. But also—after I bombed my
Lost Colony
audition, I didn't have anything going on. As much as I love spending my days with Sir Walter, I was just happy that I'd found a person to maybe hang out with. Especially one interested in history like I am.”

I thought for a minute. “I guess I'm happy we found each other too.”

We ditched our bikes on a rack. Lila sweet-talked the admission guy into letting us into the park for free, explaining that we had an important message to deliver to someone from her dad. I was starting to realize how much more effective my searching could have been if only I'd joined forces with Lila from the beginning. She knew how to get things done.

We ran to the settlement village. I tried to remember exactly where I'd seen Ambrose for the first time—
Near the blacksmith's!
“This way.” I motioned to Lila. She followed me over to the thatched building.

We peeked inside and walked around it. I didn't see any signs of Ambrose. Lila pulled out her EMF detector, but it wasn't registering anything. The guy doing demos tried to get us to come over and use the lathe. Then he asked where our admission tickets were.

“Sorry, have to use the ladies'!” Before Lila bolted, she whispered to me, “
Follow my lead. Meet me at the entrance in a couple of minutes.
”

I pointed at Lila, dashing away. “She has mine.” The guy shrugged and started chatting with an eager tourist.

Before I could follow her down the path, I heard someone whisper, “
Pray pardon, Nell.
” I turned to see Ambrose's mom. His
ghost
mom, I guess. She hovered near the edge of the village, holding a bonnet in her hands. She twisted it nervously.

Slowly, I stepped toward her, worried about what she might say. Could ghosts die? Did they get lost, too? Maybe she didn't know where Ambrose was.

Standing in the shade next to her, I tried to find any evidence that I wasn't speaking to a flesh-and-blood person—like the haze of an apparition. But she appeared as solid as I did, and just as Ambrose had. Maybe she was a little bit paler than he normally looked. I wished Lila were next to me, so we could see if her EMF detector picked up anything ghostly after all. I grabbed the cell phone Mom had given me. But it was acting as weird as mine used to in the Grandmother Vine woods, with no bars.
Maybe it's the ghost energy?

“What is it?” I asked tentatively.

“Ambrose is e'er so sorrowful,” she started.

“But he's okay?” Relief flooded me; he'd gotten back to his mom somehow. Ambrose was fine—even if he was still dead. What an odd, and sad, way to be reassured.

She nodded. Up close, Mrs. Viccars—Elizabeth—looked a lot younger than both of my parents. She shifted and smoothed the folds of her thick dress. “Prithee, Ambrose doth want to show ye. Yet he shall understand if thou didst hesitate to follow him e'er again.”

“Where?”

“If thou wouldst meet him in the woods, yonder where thy mother goeth. Knowest thou the place?”

I nodded. She must mean where I'd bumped into Ambrose by the Grandmother Vine. “I think so.”

She smiled. “Aye, he is there this morrow. Waiting.”

“I'll go there,” I said. “Thanks.”

“Nay—grammercy.” She reached out for me, instinctively. But then she pulled back her hand, and I realized that I had never touched Ambrose—our fingers hadn't brushed when we were exchanging the flask; I never clapped him on the shoulder when he did something cool or punched him lightly in the same spot if he did something stupid. And he'd always stopped himself before shaking hands or anything with me. Could that be part of being a ghost—not being able to have contact with living people anymore?
How lonely
. I hoped he could at least give his ghost mom a hug.

“Verily, thy companionship hath meant the world to him. I thank thee, Nell.” She paused for a moment, before adding, “Eleanor would be so proud. Methinks Virginia, too.” Then she waved and walked around the corner of the blacksmith building. I peeked behind after her, to see where she was heading. She was already gone.

I stepped out of the shade and back into the sunlight, thinking about what she'd said. Eleanor and Virginia
Dare
? So Ambrose must have told his mom about them being my ancestors.

I crunched along the wood-chip path, on my way to meet Lila. As I passed by the lathe guy, he gave me a funny look. “You were having quite the conversation there, huh?” I was confused until I realized he had seen only me standing at the corner of the building—and not Ambrose's mom on the other side, to whom I'd been talking.

I patted my ear. “Wireless!”

“Aha! You can really never tell these days. Here I thought you were talking to a ghost.” Little did he know.

•  •  •

“Where were you?” Lila stood outside the entrance, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently on the pavement. “I've been waiting forever! We don't have all day.”

“Relax! I know exactly where we need to go next.”

Lila raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

I nodded. “Ambrose's mother told me.”

She sucked in her breath. “She's here? I want to see her! Oh, let me get out my EMF detector.” As she fumbled with her backpack, I put out my hand to stop her.

“Hold on, she's already gone.” Lila dropped her hands and pouted. “She appeared only to tell me where to find him.”

“This is so unfair—I've been trying to encounter a ghost for years and
years
.” Lila stamped her foot.

“Maybe you can meet Ambrose,” I said. “Follow me.”

Lila told me on the way to the vine that she'd always gotten her highest EMF readings along its road. “There are lots of haunted places on the island,” she said. “But I never seriously thought that particular one had anything to do with the lost colonists. To think of all the time I've spent there and I had no idea . . . I mean, I bike past on my way to go swimming!”

But that's true, right? Sometimes it's the places we think we know the best that hold the most secrets: our streets, our backyards, and even our homes.

We left our bikes in a heap alongside the edge of the road. Lila started tramping into the woods right behind me, but I stopped her.

“Maybe you should wait here,” I said, motioning to the vine.

“Are you kidding? And miss out on this?” She tightened her fingers around the EMF detector. “No way.”

“Lila, Ambrose has always conveniently disappeared whenever you've come around. He thinks we're sworn frenemies. He might hide if I don't talk to him first. I don't really know the rules about when I can see him and when I can't. Obviously, he let your dad see him once or twice. But we don't know why.”

Lila chewed on her bottom lip, thinking it over. “You're probably right. But please,
please
come find me after you explain. I've been waiting my whole life for this.”

I promised I would try, and I meant it. She sat down in front of the vine, cross-legged, and holding her EMF detector on her lap. The meter was already waving around, like there was a lot of energy in the woodsy air—further convincing me that was why my phone had always acted so strangely in the area, like the compass spinning.

I hurried into the trees. Once I could no longer see Lila when I looked toward the vine and the road, just a curtain of loblolly pines and live oaks, I started calling his name.

“Ambrose? Are you here?” Silence; my voice had quieted even the birds. Sunlight dappled the forest floor around me, and a cool breeze tickled my arms. “Ambrose, please—I want to see you.” Then I added, “I'm not mad.”

I felt the eyes of the forest on me again, and I knew he was near. I turned to see Ambrose emerging from deep in the woods. Not much worse for wear from our misadventures, but that was understandable—nothing at sea could've hurt him. Ambrose carried something behind his back.

“Good morrow, Nell.” He smiled at me, a little shyly.

“Hi, Ambrose.” It made me sad to say hello, like this might be the last time. I tried to memorize how he looked gliding across the pine needles. His hair was crazy messy as always, his white shirt oddly crisp for something he'd been wearing for more than four hundred years. Dirty bare feet and pale skin. Those sad but sparkling eyes.

“I'm so happy that you are well,” he said. “And I fear that I did make a grave mistake.”

“How so?”

Now his twenty-first-century American speech was peppered with more Elizabethan words. “Aye, many things.” He sighed. “Convincing you to go out in that mutinous storm. Lying to you about who I am, verily, and why I wanted to wander the island with you.”

“Why
did
you want to spend time with me? You knew what happened to the lost colony. Because you're . . . a ghost.”

“'Tis true. But I knew only what happened to my mother and me. Prithee take a walk with me, and I'll explain in good time?”

I fell into step with him as he led me deeper into the woods. “When I was alive—when all the colonists were—there was trouble on this island. The men in the 1585 colony were arrogant. Their violence ruined any chance of harmony with many of the tribes in the area. Verily, our company lacked the things to survive on this land, much less during a year of drought. After John White left, things became desperate, and with haste.

“Some of the men decided to sail away to finish our journey, settling at the mouth of the Chesapeake, as we had planned. My father was one of those who left on the pinnace. But my mother and I, like all the other women and children, stayed. Father promised that no matter what, he would come back for us. He swore that the words he used to say farewell would not be the last I'd hear from him.”

I thought about the shipwreck we'd found, and a lump formed in my throat.

“But they didn't come back. A bad storm had arisen shortly after they set sail, and we feared the worst. Our group decided that if we were to survive, we must abandon the settlement. The Croatoan showed great compassion—they would let us live with them, in Manteo's village. So the remaining colonists dismantled our settlement, and we all prepared to leave.
CRO
 was carved into the trees, so those who had left—like John White—would know where to find us. Yet by then most had given up hope for the group who had gone on the pinnace.

“Not I. By my troth, my father was always true to his word. My mother fell ill the day before our colony moved to Croatoan. She was in no shape to make the journey. I decided we should stay and wait for my father, where he left us. We watched as the others left the island in hopes of life on another. Then we waited.”

“But nobody came back,” I whispered.

“With every day we grew weaker. My mother's condition improved, but only slightly. We had the round grapes of these vines to sustain us, and what crabs I could catch in the marsh. I would walk yonder, to the edge of the sound, e'ry morn and wait to see white sails on the horizon. Alas, I knew that nothing in life would stop my father. Any day, certes, he would be back to take us to our new home. But what I ne'er knew was that a wreck had already taken him from this world. In time, not even the grapes were sustenance enough, and hunger and fever took my mother. Then me as well. Even after death, we have stayed here, keeping our vigil. Our souls have ne'er been at peace, not knowing what befell my father.”

Ambrose stopped in front of a few tall trees. I cleared my throat, which ached with sadness. “I'm so sorry, Ambrose.” Tears trickled down my cheeks.

“Grammercy, Nell.” He revealed what he'd been hiding behind his back—a familiar round shape.
The flask!
“But because of what you and I found, we are no longer lost.” Maybe it was my imagination, but his fingertips and the rest of his hands looked like the color was slowly draining out of them from holding it.

“Where did you get that—”

“Aye, I am the filch who stole it. I took it only to show my mother. But I owe that lass an apology, for letting the arrows of your accusation pierce her.” He handed the flask to me. “'Twas my father's. I recognized it the moment you pulled it from the shore. I thought mayhap it meant that he
had
made his way back to Roanoke at some point in time. But the markings told me of what befell the ship in the storm. He scratched out those words as they took on water, and he threw this into sea, in hopes that it would reach my mother and me. Thusly, I knew I must leave the island to find his resting place and reunite. But for that, I needed your help.”

“I'm happy I could help,” I said slowly. “Even if, well, it almost killed me.” Ambrose shook his head with shame. I could tell he felt bad for putting me at risk. Although that would never be okay, I understood his desperation because I'd felt something similar. “Are you going to be okay now that you know the truth?”