Listening for Lucca (20 page)

“I … I’m not really Sarah. Not inside.”

“Who are you, then?” Joshua sat up.

“I’m Siena.”

My name lingered in the air for a moment. It did sound strong, and beautiful.

“Siena? What kind of name is that?”

“Mine.”

He closed his eyes; his brows scrunched. “It’s familiar, somehow.”

We both thought for a minute.

“Where did you fight in the war?” I asked.

“Italy.”

“You might have seen my name before, then. On a map. Or maybe you have even been there.”

“Is that where you come from?”

“No. I actually come from right here, like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t explain it. I live years from now in this house, but I can see the past. I saw what you went through. You found the little girl in the ruined house and you carried her … carried her all the way to a doctor, but she died.”

“Stop it. You can’t know that.”

“But I do. You’re hearing me say it.”

“Who knows what I’m hearing? I can’t trust what I see and hear anymore.”

“The whole world changed on you. Probably there’s nowhere that feels safe.”

I slid over closer to the bed and took his hand. He flinched at first. With our hands touching, I could feel us connecting inside, too. At first I felt scared, but I willed myself to relax so Joshua could, too. Something flowed between us.

“It
is
like that,” he said. “Even when the memories aren’t active in my mind, there’s that fear. It’s always creeping, round and round my heart.”

“I feel that way a lot, too.”

“Have terrible things happened to you?”

I thought about that. “No. I guess I just feel like I don’t know what’s real, because unexpected things happen to me, and where and when I’m from, you feel like something awful could happen at any time and you wouldn’t be ready.”

“But I got ready. And it didn’t help.”

I rubbed the back of his hand with my thumb, trying to keep him calm, to try to make him see that I understood.

Maybe he was sick—but I felt the core of my being, in pulse with Sarah’s beating heart in the chest I visited, think of him gently, the way a sister treats her brother when he needs help.
That
was the connection I felt. Like when I had sat with Lucca earlier.

“Why are you here?” When I didn’t answer, he asked, “What do you want?”

“To help you and Sarah.”

“Why? Why do you care?”

“I just … do. I want you to be okay.”

“But why?”

“I guess it has something to do with me and Lucca.”

“Who’s Lucca?”

“My brother.”

“His name is familiar, too.”

“He doesn’t talk, my brother. It’s like there’s something in the way between us. I try and try but I can’t fix it. You and Sarah have the same thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you even noticed? Sarah doesn’t talk anymore!”

“What do you mean she doesn’t?”

“Jezzie took her voice.”

“What did she do with it?”

“She threw it in the ocean.”

For the first time, Joshua laughed.

“What?” I didn’t see it as something to laugh at.

“How is that even possible? I always knew there was something wrong with that Jezzie. She must be a nutty spirit like you on the inside.”

I felt a little flame of anger. “Hey! I’m here to help you!”

“So you say.”

“It was for you, you know. Sarah gave up her voice for you so you would come back safe.” It was like he didn’t even care. I wanted to throw his hand away from me in disgust, but I still felt that charged energy, that love, that flowed from both Sarah and me. If I took that away in anger, I’d be giving up on him.

“I can hardly follow you.”

“Jezzie told Sarah you would only come back if she stopped talking, and she believed it. Now you’re here and you won’t even look at her. How’s that fair?”

“I still don’t see why you care. Why it’s your business.”

I started to tell him more about Lucca, about what I said to him that one time long ago before all the problems started, but also about how much fun we have, playing at the beach, getting him ready for bed, just being together, even without him talking. I talked about it for such a long time it seemed that the stars had shifted in the sky I could see through the window.

When Joshua spoke again, his voice was softer. “Sarah and I used to be close like that, too. When I picked up that little girl, I was thinking of Sarah, hoping she was all right.”

“So help her. If you come back to your family, you don’t have to lose each other, too. Do you know what’s going to become of them without you? Sarah’s never going to talk again, and your parents are going to fall apart. So please, please, get up. If you stay here like this, you’ll only relive the same bad memories over and over, instead of making good new ones. What about your family? Don’t you want to see their faces again?”

His breathing and hand relaxed a little more. He was getting close to sleep again.

“What for?”

“You just have to keep going. To keep them going, too.”

“I … I could try.”

“You
could
.…”

“Maybe. If I don’t?”

“I might have to come here again.”

A smile stretched across his face. “I think I would like that.”

“I don’t know if I
can
,” I said seriously. “Not like this. It might be putting me and Sarah in danger. But what will happen if you don’t is what I told you: all the people you love are going to fall apart. Their lives will be full of the darkness you’ve brought home. They will remain faceless to you. But if you get up, if you try to let a little of it go, if
you make new happy memories, you can have them back. If you remember me, you can remember this again any time you want, in your mind. Or maybe you could visit me in my life.”

“You think so?”

“I do.” And I did. After all, I’d been visiting Sarah. “Just listen for me, my spirit in this house. Sit near the window. Be ready to write things down. You should be able to find me.”

“Really?”

“Really. You just need to believe it’s possible.”

“You are pretty crazy. Or I’m crazy for thinking you’re here.”

“If it gets you out of bed, it’s okay by me.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t know how long I can stay.” I gave his hand one more squeeze. “I think you have everything you need.”

“Where
is
Sarah? If you’re in her body, where is she?”

“I don’t know.” A feeling of panic for both Sarah and myself coursed through me.

“Get going, then. Switch back.”

I nodded. “You’ll get up?”

He nodded back.

I let go of his hand.

“The next time you see Sarah and she
is
Sarah, tell her that the spell is broken. Jezzie’s spell. She might even be listening, know already. Tell her she can talk now. You can get her to talk again.”

Joshua nodded.

“What about Lucca?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. I’ve tried so many things.”

“What did you say Jezzie did to Sarah? Do the opposite thing, and maybe Lucca will open up. You never know.”

Then he seemed to drift back to sleep. Maybe he’d think the whole thing had been a dream.

Can two people in different times meet in their dreams? No reason why not. No reason.

Now the hard part: getting back.

Could Sarah have gone to my body? Traded places? I’d had to think hard to get here, so I guessed she could only go there if it was on purpose.

I walked back to my room—in Sarah’s time, so Sarah’s room—well, our room. I lay down and buried my head in the pillow, but it didn’t smell like my pillow, though the smell was familiar. I tossed and turned. I wasn’t leaving.

Sarah, come back. I’m ready to go.

But I continued to lie there.

“Siena, honey? Siena, wake up.”

Mom.

I drifted from Sarah. I wiggled my fingers, trying to feel if they were mine. Mine-mine. I dared to peek open my eyes.

“Mom!” I sat up and hugged her.

“Hey there,” she said, patting my back. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I was worried. I couldn’t seem to wake you up.”

“Yeah, I was … Well, anyway, I’m back now.”

“Back?”

“Never mind.” I was so relieved, I was shaking. My mother had brought me back. Here we both were, sitting in my bed. “What—what are you doing in my room?”

“Sam called. Which was weird, it’s so late … almost midnight … but then he sounded scared or something. He asked if you were here, and I said you’d talk to him tomorrow. Then he said, ‘Could you just go check on her?’ I peeked in here, and you seemed to be sleeping, but something in his voice … He mentioned ghosts. Are you still on about that?”

I listened, I felt the air. It was still. Normal.

“No. I’m not worried about them anymore.”

“That’s a relief. Is that all he was worried about?”

“I guess.”

Mom kissed me on the forehead. “I’m glad everything’s okay. I’ll call him back.”

I felt exhausted, ready to fall onto my pillows for a good sleep. “And I know now.”

“Know what?”

“How people, you know, keep going even when something terrifying might happen at any time.”

“How’s that?”

“You have strength inside you. You can do anything.”

Mom laughed gently. “I think you’re still asleep. You don’t talk like that when you’re awake.”

And I might have been; I could barely make her out anymore, even though she was sitting right in front of me.

“Go, honey. Go to sleep.”

And I went.

When I came downstairs in the morning, Mom was reading something at the kitchen island.

“Check the porch,” she said without looking up.

“Huh?”

“The porch. Sam’s here.”

I headed outside.

“Hi,” I said, suddenly very aware of my pajamas. I sat down next to Sam. He had an empty bowl and spoon. “I see you’ve been cereal-and-milked.”

“Everything … okay?” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“One hundred percent?”

“Yes! Except that I’m wearing my pajamas.” I got up, but then I turned around and gave Sam a hug, even though he was still sitting down.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re checking on me.”

“Yeah, so what?”

“So what nothing.” I smiled. “Thanks for calling last night.”

He didn’t return my smile.

“What?” I asked.

“You scared me. It’s … creepy.”

“Hey, look, I’m sorry I scared you. I’m all right. I think everything’s okay now. I’m going to get dressed. Don’t leave.”

I jumped into some clothes and grabbed my sneakers.

“Let’s get real breakfast,” he suggested when I returned. “I have money.”

We walked to the center of town, to the diner. I ordered an omelet with green peppers and onions, and rye toast and grapefruit juice.

“Hungry?” Sam asked.

“Starving.”

He shouldn’t have talked, what with his bagel and bacon and cheddar-cheese eggs.

When the food came, we got right to work eating.

“Tell me what happened with the ghosts.”

I told him, as best I could, about what had happened. He listened, raising his eyebrows at points.

“You must have dreamed that whole thing,” he said.

“I don’t care whether it was real or not. I think it helped.”

“And you think this will help Lucca?”

I nodded.

“I o no,” Sam said, his mouth full of food.

“What?”

He swallowed. “I don’t know. Why would it have anything to do with Lucca?”

“I helped them. Something should help me.”

Sam was quiet. I assumed he was thinking about our conversation. Then he said, “I should order some orange juice.”

“Sam!”

“What?”

“What do you think?”

“Oh, about Lucca? You’re talking, like, about karma or something, right? What goes around comes around? You did something good, so you’ll get good back?”

“I guess so.”

“What if the good is something else? Why would it have to be related to Lucca?”

“Because the ghost puzzle and the Lucca puzzle
are
related. They’re connected, I know it. We came here for a reason.” What was it Mom had said? She had a feeling something here, something on the beach, would help Lucca? And why, why had I dreamed about the house long before we were even thinking about moving?

I knew that Mom’s feelings were just regular feelings, not psychic ones. But they still meant something. Something had reached out and pulled us here from a long way away. Something that she could only vaguely sense, and something that only I would perceive.

We finished up our food.

“Want to hang out?” I asked Sam as we left the diner.

“I can’t. I have to go home. Mom wants to have a ‘family day.’ Usually that means we play a board game and watch a movie.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for the great breakfast. And thanks for coming by this morning.”