White Picket Fences (26 page)

“Just some homework.” He waited.

His mother inhaled, as if drawing strength to speak. “I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate how you’ve befriended Tally and made her feel welcome and wanted here. I thought it was amazing how you knew she needed a place to be alone with her thoughts this afternoon. It was a very kind thing you did, offering your room to her. I…I wish I had thought of it first.”

Chase shrugged. “It was no big deal.”

His mother shook her head. “No. You’re wrong. It is a big deal. And I really do appreciate how you’ve bonded with her. That’s a big deal too. She’s had to deal with so much in her life. I can tell she thinks a lot of you. I’ve been surprised, really. I thought Delcey would be the one to step in, but Delcey… I don’t know. I just… I’m glad you’re here for Tally. Really.”

Chase felt an awkward heat steal over him. “Okay.”

Again his mother breathed in, like preparing for an incoming volley. “But you won’t tell her that you think Bart is… is…”

“An ass,” he finished for her. “No. I won’t.”

“He’s not a great father, but she loves him. In spite of all his flaws, she really does love him.”

“Mom.”

“I just had to say it, Chase.”

He nodded.

A third intake of air. “I know your dad has his flaws too, Chase. So do I. But we love you. I hope you know that.” Her voice hinted of pained emotion.

Chase couldn’t look at her. “Yeah,” he said.

“You seem tired, Chase. Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine.” His answer was quick.

“Everything going okay at school?”

“Yep.”

“And here at home? Everything okay?”

For a split second Chase considered turning to her and telling her he knew about Alyssa Tagg, that he remembered the fire, that Ghost was closing in on him, and that he was desperate to find the lost minutes of that day. But then he would have to tell her he might’ve been the one that set Ghost free, didn’t try to stop it, killed an innocent child.

He didn’t want to see the look of horror on her face. Or feel her fear. Or hear her agonized voice ask him how he could’ve done something like that.

“I’m good.” He kept his tone casual. Light. He did not look at her.

“Because if there was anything, I want you to know you can tell me. Tell us.”

“Yep.” Chase nodded once. She suspected something.

“No matter what it is. You can tell me.”

He slowly swiveled his head to look at her. The unspoken seemed to float between them. She didn’t know it had a name: Ghost. But she knew it existed. He waited, but she said nothing else. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

She nodded, brows furrowed, and slowly stood. “Want to help me move Tally’s bed into the sewing room? Dad’s taking the cedar chest over to the Loughlins’.”

He rose. “Yeah. Sure.”

They moved silently from one room to the next. Delcey was pulling Tally’s clothes out of the little dresser. Tally had an armload of bedding in her hands.

“Tally and I can get the mattress downstairs,” Chase said to his mother. “You can take the bedding down.”

“All right.”

Tally wordlessly handed the bedding to Amanda. A moment later, Amanda and Delcey were out of the room, taking their armloads to the sewing room.

Chase lifted one end of the mattress and Tally grabbed the other. “You all right?” he said to her.

His cousin lifted and lowered her shoulders.

“Not that it’s any of my business, but maybe it’s time to let someone know what your dad is really doing over there.”

“Yeah.”

Surprised, Chase hoisted his end of the mattress. “You agree?”

She lifted her side. “I want to go with you when you talk to Eliasz.”

Outside, from several miles away, a fire engine’s wailing wafted in through Delcey’s open window. Chase stared at the window for a moment, hearing for the first time an invitation instead of a warning.

“All right,” he said.

thirty-two

T
he shining halls of the La Vista del Paz Assisted Living Facility smelled of pine and overdone macaroni. A third aroma mingled with them, but Tally couldn’t name it.

“I really don’t like this place,” Chase muttered as they walked past the reception desk. A gray-haired volunteer smiled at them as they walked away.

“It’s so nice when young people come here,” she said to the nursing assistant next to her.

A man in a bathrobe grabbed at Chase as they made their way down the main hallway to the B wing, to Josef and Eliasz’s room. “Tell me where to go!” he said.

Chase and Tally stopped.

“Tell me where to go!” His worn-out voice was urgent.

“I’m sure the lady at the desk can help you,” Tally pointed to the gray-haired woman now many yards away.

“Please, tell me where to go.”

Tally looked wide eyed at Chase.

“Go have a cup of coffee and a smoke,” Chase said.

The man nodded. “Okay.” He walked away from them.

Tally blinked at Chase as they resumed walking toward room B-34. “Why’d you tell him that?”

“He needed to have a place to go. I gave him one.”

They walked a few seconds in silence.

“And where’s he supposed to get a cup of coffee?” Tally continued.

“Hey, in a place like this, when everything else has been taken from you, you should be able to get a pathetic cup of coffee if you want one.”

Seconds later they were at the room. Chase knocked softly on the door. When no one answered right away, he opened the door slowly. “Mr. Bliss? Mr. Abramovicz?”

“Yes? Who is it?” The voice that greeted them was library soft and heavily accented.

“It’s Chase and Tally. Can we come in?”

“Yes, yes. Of course.”

The two teens opened the door fully and saw that Josef and Eliasz were sitting across from their beds in black fake-leather recliners. The television was on and
Jeopardy!
played on the screen, but the sound was muted. Josef held a folded newspaper and a pencil in his hand. Eliasz, his head bent in sleep, snored softly.

“Did we have a meeting today? Did we forget?” Josef leaned forward in his chair.

“No,” Chase answered quickly. “We just… I mean, I just wanted to talk with Eliasz about something.”

“Oh.” Josef pointed to his friend with his pencil. “Well. He was out on the town last night. Partying late, you would say.”

Chase and Tally smiled.

“Grab those two folding chairs behind you there,” Josef continued. “We start talking about him and he’s bound to wake up.”

Two metal chairs leaned against the wall behind the door. Chase reached for them. He and Tally opened the chairs and sat down facing the two men.

“So. You have another question about the ghetto?” Josef began. “Treblinka? Is it something I can answer for you?”

Josef looked from one to the other. Chase didn’t speak right away. “You can probably help me,” Tally replied. “I mean, maybe you can. I think only Eliasz can help Chase.”

“What is it?” Josef set his paper down on a table covered with magazines, books, and butterscotch wrappers.

“My father left for Poland more than a month ago. He…” Tally hesitated, glancing at Chase. She could either ask Chase to leave the room while she told Josef told the truth, or she could choose to trust him. Her cousin nodded as if he knew she needed his confidence. She turned to face Josef again. “My dad was given a letter written by my grandpa just before he died—we told you about our grandfather last time. Remember?”

“Yes,” Josef said. “He escaped the ghetto as a child with a woman you thought was your great-grandmother.”

“Right. Well, Grandpa died a couple years ago, but my dad never read the letter. He thought it was an apology or maybe a hate letter.” She paused. “My dad and his dad didn’t get along very well.”

“Ah,” Josef said.

“But he kept it. It came to him in a little box with a few things that had belonged to his dad. Chase’s mom, my dad’s sister, sent it to him. There was a pocket watch, our great-grandmother’s wedding ring, and a cigarette lighter. My dad kept this little box in the trunk of our car. But then a few weeks ago, I came home
from school and he was reading the letter. He had just quit his job, and he was planning to sell the ring and the watch because… because it was a bad job he’d left and we had to get out of Texas.”

Josef’s wiry eyebrows rose slightly. He said nothing.

“That’s when he told me he was going to Poland.”

“The letter was an apology?” Josef said.

Tally shrugged. “I don’t think it was an apology or a hate letter. It was more like… a map. Like a treasure map.”

Chase turned his head to stare at her.

“A map?” Josef asked. “To what kind of treasure?”

“Money, jewelry, gold. Things my grandpa buried in his backyard before the Nazis came for them. Aron Bachmann was wealthy before the war. In the letter Grandpa said he’d buried the jewelry and gold on the property before the family was sent to the ghetto. But he never went back for them.”

“Too dangerous,” Josef murmured. “It would’ve been too dangerous, you know.”

“Even after the war?” Chase asked.

Josef turned to him. “After the war, Poland was a different place. You know this. You know what became of the Eastern Bloc countries. Besides, perhaps it was too painful for him to return. He lost his father, his mother, perhaps a baby sister. There could be many reasons why he never went back.” Josef redirected his gaze at Tally. “The letter told him where this money and jewelry was hidden?”

“I think so. I didn’t actually read the letter. He just told me.”

“And he went all the way to Warsaw to dig them up?” Josef half laughed as he said this.

Tally felt her face redden. “Yes.”

“Would he have any claim to that stuff?” Chase asked.

Josef shrugged. “Who can say? If the land no longer belongs to your family, well, a Polish court might say whatever is buried in the land belongs to the people who now own the land.”

“Even if that land originally belonged to an innocent victim of the Holocaust?” Chase asked.

“Yes, well, that is muddy water. Has your father found this treasure?”

“No,” Tally answered. “I mean, I don’t think so. He hasn’t kept in touch with me very well. I just got a letter from him yesterday. The first one. He said he ran into trouble in Warsaw and that it wouldn’t be smart for him to go back yet and try again.”

“So he is coming home?”

Again Tally shook her head. “He’s in Ukraine right now. He didn’t say why. Do you know why he would go there?”

“I couldn’t begin to guess. I do not have good memories of Ukrainians. I cannot tell you why he is there. Does he think Ukrainian soldiers took the treasure from his property during the war?”

“I… No, I don’t think he does. He said he met someone who needed his help. That’s all he said.”

“Did your father petition a court or speak to a lawyer when he arrived in Warsaw?”

Tally opened her mouth, but Chase spoke first. “He most likely went to the property at three o’clock in the morning the day he landed with a flashlight and a shovel.”

Tally glared at him.

“That’s what I would’ve done.” Chase met her gaze.

“Ah, well. He might’ve been seen or chased off the property by dogs or the owners. Not the best way to go about it, I’m afraid.” Josef sat back in his chair.

“Doesn’t sound like there is a best way,” Chase countered.

“No.” The old man nodded. “Except, of course, to let it stay buried.”

“That’s just the easy way,” Chase replied. “Not the best.”

“It only looks easy, my friend. Think of all the years your grandfather let this treasure sleep. And the secret he kept about his mother, if indeed we are talking about the same family. And the memories of the ghetto he never shared with anyone. Some might say he took the easy way of bearing all that he’d experienced during the war and after. To never talk about it at all looks simple. It looks like the coward’s way.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Like I told you a moment ago, unless you have been through the fire, you cannot understand how it can change you. How it can change the way you think. The way you survive.”

“You think I don’t know about fire?” Chase’s tone was terse.

“Well, you are young.”

Her cousin leaned forward in his chair, his gaze boring into the old man’s watery eyes. Tally could see Chase’s chest rising and falling—hinting of composure about to burst. “Hey, I’ve
been
through the fire,” he said to Josef. “Don’t tell me what I can understand and what I can’t.”

Josef sat wordless in his chair, and Tally sucked in her breath. The air in the room felt thick. “Chase?” She said his name softly.

“What are you talking about?” Josef’s words were edged with equal parts astonishment and annoyance.

Chase continued, his voice charged with emotion. “You don’t know what I know. What I’m able to understand about choices and survival and buried secrets.”

“Chase.” Tally touched his arm. He seemed not to feel it.

“I never presumed to know
your
life story, Chase.” Josef attempted to sit up straighter. “If there’s something you’re trying to tell me, then just say it.”

For a moment, Chase seemed about to explode in anger. Then he relaxed and sat back in his chair. The room stilled. Chase finally spoke, his tone tight but even. “I’ve been through the fire too. I’ve got memories that haunt me just like you do. And I’m alone with them just like my grandfather was with his. But just because something is buried doesn’t mean you don’t know it exists. Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”

As Chase said the word “see,” he nodded toward Eliasz, who still slept soundly.

Josef slowly looked at his friend and then turned back to face Chase. “What is it you’ve come to ask Eliasz about?” His voice sounded protective, unsure.

Chase hesitated before answering. “I… I don’t know. I’m not sure how to explain it.”

“What? You don’t know why you came here to see him?”

Chase answered, his voice low. “I had a dream. About the fire.”

Josef shook his head, confusion setting his wrinkles at odd angles. “I don’t understand what you are saying. What fire?”