From a Distant Star (17 page)

“You
can
read my mind,” I said, frowning. “That is incredibly creepy.”

“I cannot do it all the time,” he said. “And it is easier with some people than for others. You are the easiest one of all.”

“So this whole time, you’ve known everything I was thinking?”

He nodded. “And feeling.” He sipped at the juice again. When he was done, he looked up and said, “That is how I knew I could tell you and Eric the truth, and you would try to help me and not tell the federal agents.”

And that’s when my eyes began to tear up. Between Chloe having cancer and Scout putting his trust in me and Eric, and me missing Lucas more than ever, my emotions got the best of me. I dabbed at my eyes with the cheap paper napkin and tried to hold back the flood. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“I know,” Scout said.

My phone pinged and I pulled it out and took a look. I grimaced when I saw the text. I said, “It’s from your brother. I mean, it’s Eric.”

“His parents found the note and are not happy.”

“You picked up on that from there?” I said, astounded.

He shook his head. “That is what Eric predicted would happen.”

“Well, he was right.” I read off the screen, “Mom and Dad furious. Blaming you. Want to call cops.” As I read, a second text came in. “I’m doing damage control.” I set the phone in the middle of the table and said, “Thank God we’re so far away.”

The words were no sooner out of my mouth when Scout’s phone rang. He picked it up and answered before I could stop him. “Hello?” he said, his face showing signs of intense concentration. “Mom, you don’t need to worry. Yes, I’m with Emma and we are fine. I am safe.” Even though it was up to his ear, I could hear the torrent of anger coming from his mother. I wasn’t her favorite person before and she was really going to despise me now. “Mom, Mom, Mom!” he said, cutting in, and for a second, he sounded just like Lucas. “Don’t blame Emma. This was my idea. She didn’t want to do it, but I talked her into it. We’re driving up to where we used to camp—remember, when Eric and I were little? I wanted to show Emma the lake and all the places you used to take us.” He listened for a bit and I could hear her tone changing just slightly. “I’ve had a tough year, and I just needed a day away. Just one day. I’m eighteen and soon I’ll be back in school trying to get caught up, so I thought I should do it now before I got too busy.”

The waitress came with our food and silently placed the plates in front of us. “Thank you,” I said.

“Mom, I have to go now,” Scout said. “I love you. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” And then she said something I couldn’t catch before he said good-bye and hung up.

“Wow, you handled that really well,” I said, picking up my fork. Really well. I hadn’t heard him speak that much ever.

“Eric and I practiced many times,” he said. “The mother said she will call every hour to check on us.”

That figured. “Great,” I said, rolling my eyes. I poured syrup over my short stack, then handed the pitcher to Scout, who followed my example. We ate in silence, me trying not to think anything weird or personal, which of course led to me only being able to think of weird and personal things. Like wondering if he could somehow see through my clothes, which would have seemed impossible earlier in the day, but now seemed within the realm of feasibility. After the waitress checked to see if we were enjoying the food, Scout watched her walk away and whispered, “Amy just got bad news about her daughter’s cancer. She’d like to go home, but the boss won’t let her.”

“What kind of bad news?”

“I don’t know. A phone call about some test results.”

Amy paused to cup Chloe’s chin on her way back to the kitchen and then she leaned over and touched noses with her daughter. When she pulled away, her mouth stretched into a smile, but behind the smile, I glimpsed sadness. It was the way everyone had been around Lucas—all of us pretending to be upbeat and cheerful when inside we were dying a little bit more each day, his cancer threatening to consume us all.

I felt a sudden need for reassurance. I reached across the table and grasped Scout’s hand as he was sticking his fork into a piece of pancake. He looked up, startled. I said, “I have something I need to ask you, but you have to promise to answer truthfully.”

“I will answer truthfully,” he said, nodding.

“Is Lucas really still in there, deep inside?”

“Of course.”

I let go and he lifted the fork to his mouth. “So,” I said, “he’s not dead? Once you go out of his body, he’ll be the same as always?”

He nodded. “Yes, of course.” Right behind him, two ladies were talking loudly about scrapbooking, oblivious to the alien presence one booth over.

“How do you know for sure?”

He shrugged. “I was inside Mack for a time and he survived the experience and is now fine.”

Strangely enough, that did make me feel better. “Will Lucas remember what happened while you occupied his body? Will he remember today, for instance?”

“I don’t think so. It is like he is sleeping,” Scout said. “Or like he is in a coma. I have taken over. Lucas is not driving anymore.”

Lucas wasn’t driving anymore. An interesting way to put it, especially since I was now forced to be the driver on this trip. When we finished eating, I paid the check, leaving a tip equal to the amount of the bill. It wouldn’t make Amy’s day any better, but it might help it to suck a little less. We scooted out of the booth and headed for the door, me in the lead. After the outside door slammed behind me and I was almost to the car, I realized that Scout wasn’t right behind me as I’d thought. I sighed in exasperation. It was like traveling with a little kid, constantly having to watch him and explain everything. I looked at the door for half a minute, thinking he was just walking slowly and would catch up, but when he didn’t show up, I went back in, and found him standing at the counter, talking to the little girl, Chloe. When I got closer, I heard her excitedly say, “Really? Can I feel it?” Scout said yes, and leaned over to let her rub his head. I made it to his side at the same time as her mother came out of the kitchen to witness the same scene. Amy froze for a second before rushing over in alarm.

“Chloe! What’s going on here?” Amy’s mouth turned down in disapproval and a look of fear came over her face, something I understood completely. All I could think was of all the times kids were told about stranger danger, especially with men, and here her daughter was touching Scout in public and he was encouraging it.

“He’s harmless, really,” I said. The next words out of my mouth were going to explain that he was mentally challenged, a lie that would hopefully help the situation, but Chloe interrupted before I got that far.

“Mommy!” she said excitedly. “He had stage four cancer too, and they didn’t think he would live and he did. He did! He’s all better now and his hair grew in and everything.”

“Oh.” Amy seemed taken aback, but she pulled it together very quickly. “Well, I’m very happy for you, sir, but I don’t usually let my daughter talk to strangers, especially about our family business.”

“We were just going,” I said, grabbing hold of his T-shirt. “Have a good day.”

“Good-bye, Scout,” Chloe said, with a small wave.

“Good-bye, Chloe,” he said, letting me guide him out of the restaurant.

The sun had climbed higher in the sky while we were inside eating, and heat radiated off the asphalt parking lot. We walked to the car, me pulling his arm. “You can’t talk to children,” I said. “And you especially can’t touch them or let them touch you.” I shook my head. “You could have gotten us in a lot of trouble back there. In the future, just stick by me, okay?”

“I do not understand,” he said. “Why was I wrong?”

“I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” We’d gotten to the car now and I unlocked the door. “But there are people who hurt kids and Chloe’s mom doesn’t know you. She was probably worried that you were one of those people. That’s why she came running out like that. She didn’t like her daughter touching your head. We’re lucky she didn’t call the police.”

His face scrunched in confusion. “But why would someone hurt kids?”

I stopped, the key ring dangling off one finger, and tried to think about the best way to respond even as I knew there really wasn’t a good answer. Why would someone hurt a kid? It defied explanation. It was a crazy, screwed-up world when adult people preyed on innocent children, and yet that was the way it was. It happened every single day. “I don’t know why,” I finally admitted.
“It just happens. People are mentally ill or sometimes they’re just evil. It happens.”

His face still had that befuddled look. “So I should not have talked to Chloe?”

“Talking to her was probably okay,” I said. “But it all depends on the situation and what you’re talking about. Since you don’t know the difference, it’s probably best just to avoid kids altogether.”

I gestured for him to get into the car. I would feel better when I put some space between us and the pancake house. I had the car in reverse and was starting to back up when he turned my way and said, “Was it wrong then that I fixed Chloe’s cancer?”

I threw the car into park, jolting us to a sudden stop. “
What
did you say?”

His expression, so earnest and wanting to please, changed to one of worry. “I said was it wrong for me to fix Chloe’s cancer?”

“You
fixed
her cancer? You mean you cured it?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but still the volume increased. Had he actually cured that little girl’s cancer?

The frown lines were back. “Did I make trouble? When Chloe’s mother finds out, will she call the police?” He shot a nervous glance out the window as if expecting to see a squad car coming down the road.

“No,” I said. “If her daughter’s cancer is cured, she’ll be very happy. Is that what you did? You actually made the cancer go away?”

He nodded. “It is not gone yet, but it will go away. The other cells will overpower the cancer cells.”

“How did you . . . Oh, never mind. You did a good thing,” I said, giving his arm a squeeze. “A really good thing. But you can’t do it anymore. It will attract attention and we’re trying not to get noticed, okay?”

“Okay. I will not cure cancer anymore,” he said, returning his gaze to the front windshield. “I did not mean to attract attention.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

We were pulling out of the parking lot onto the road when my phone unexpectedly rang. I couldn’t even imagine who would be calling me. A friend would be more likely to text, and my mom, if she called at all, wouldn’t do it until later in the day. Right now, she was at work and would have other things on her mind. I almost ignored the ringing, but when Scout picked the phone up out of the cup holder and held it out, I saw it was Mrs. Kokesh, so I put it on speaker phone. “Hello?” I answered, while simultaneously driving around to park in back of the pancake house.

“Oh, Emma, honey, good, I’m glad you answered,” she said. “We need to talk.” It was Mrs. Kokesh’s voice, but not her usual grouchy persona. Instead, it sounded like Mrs. Kokesh had taken Glinda-the-good-witch pills.

“Hey, Mrs. Kokesh, I’ve been thinking about you,” I said. “I’m sorry I didn’t call to give you an update, but it’s been crazy—”

“Say no more. I understand,” she said abruptly, sounding more like herself. “Emma, there are some federal agents here at my house asking about you and Lucas. They seem to think you know something important and they’d like you to come here right now so they can talk to you.”

My throat threatened to close. “They’re at your house now?”

“Yes. They’d like you to return immediately. Now, they know it will take you two hours to drive back . . .”

I heard a scuffle as the phone was handed off. A woman’s voice came on the line. “Emma? This is agent Mariah Wilson. We met at the Walkers’?”

“Of course. I remember,” I said, trying to sound calm.

“I need you to turn around and come back right now. It’s super important to our investigation.” Her voice was as smooth as the maple syrup that had covered our pancakes, but she still managed to convey that she meant every word.

I gave Scout a wide-eyed look, but even though he’d heard everything I had, he didn’t appear the least bit rattled. “I’m not sure how I can help your investigation,” I said. “I don’t really know anything.”

“We think you do.”

The thumping of my heart made it hard to think straight. “Could we talk tomorrow?” I said. “We’re a long way from home and Lucas wanted to show me the lake where his family used to go camping when he was a kid. We’re kind of on a day trip.”

“This can’t wait until tomorrow,” she said harshly. “You and Lucas Walker are to drive back immediately and report to us at Mrs. Kokesh’s house. Please bring anything you have that is pertinent to the investigation. Not complying will be considered obstruction of justice and you will be charged and jailed. If you think I’m bluffing and that this won’t apply to you because you’re a minor, I promise you that’s not the case. You will be charged as an adult, believe me.”

In the background, Mrs. Kokesh yelled, “Emma, they can trace you!” Her voice trailed away at the end, as if someone had pulled her into the next room.

“Is Mrs. Kokesh okay?” I asked.

“She’s fine. She just had to step out for a moment,” the agent said. “You’ll be able to see that she’s safe and sound when you get
here in a
timely
manner.” It was a threat, barely implied.
Come back right away or the old lady gets it
. But that only happened in movies. Right? I’d always thought so, but now I didn’t honestly know.

The next three seconds of silence were so thick that the words I spoke next seemed to slice right through it. “I understand,” I said. “We’ll come back immediately.”

“Good girl,” Mariah Wilson said patronizingly. One of my pet peeves: being patronized. She continued. “We’ll be waiting. Don’t deviate on the way back or there will be trouble. As soon as you hang up the phone, I want you to drive here as quickly as possible.”

“We will,” I promised. “We’ll head back right away.”

“Two hours,” she said. “If you’re not here by then, the authorities will be coming to apprehend you and we will notify your parents of your involvement in a federal crime.”