Listening for Lucca (10 page)

I pulled out of Sarah’s mind, suddenly back in the windowsill, clutching my pen and notebook, stunned.

I’d recognized him, Joshua. He was the boy I’d seen on the beach. Which made Sarah the girl. So that had definitely been a vision.

And I remembered where I’d heard the name Jezzie before.

I woke in the morning after a dreamless sleep.

I was disappointed; I’d wanted to have another of those dreams, the war dreams. Sarah’s story was taking place during wartime; the rationing and the radio and the fundraising dance made me pretty sure it was the Second World War. Were the dreams of the same war?

Maybe it was best that I hadn’t had one of the dreams. I always woke from them feeling kind of sick.

Even though I’d definitely slipped into that summertime sense of days without names or numbers, it had been a couple of days since we’d put the little butterfly hair clip in the lost-and-found box. I could go get it and then come back and see what else I could learn from Sarah.

I got dressed and yelled to Mom that I was walking into town.

“Hey!” Sam said when I entered Nielly’s. “Siena?” he
asked, as if checking. I nodded. “Come to do your shopping? Want some strawberries?”

I looked over toward the produce, where a hundred small green cardboard bins held a multitude of bright red berries. A shiver ran down my spine. “No, thank you.”

We stood there awkwardly.

“So … how can I help you, then?” Sam asked.

“The clip we put in the lost and found … is it still here?”

“Oh, that. Let’s see.” We headed to the box. Sam took it out and shifted the contents around. “Still here.”

I looked into his face, which I realized was kind of cute. He had a stretch of summer freckles across his nose and blond sun-streaks in his hair. So he couldn’t be spending all his time cooped up in this shop.

“Well, do you want it or not?” Sam asked in response to my staring at him as if I had totally forgotten the reason I’d come to the store. My cheeks flushed pink.

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” I held out my hand and he dropped the clip into it. Then he shook his head, puzzled.

Whatever. What did it really matter what Sam thought? I’d known all along I was going to be lousy at this new-friend thing.

“Well, bye,” I said, suddenly in a hurry to leave.

“You’re kind of mysterious, you know.” I turned back. “You show up here out of the blue, no one knows where you came from or why you bothered to come to this summerland to stay …”

Oh, that was all. Phew.

“They don’t know because they didn’t ask,” I pointed out.

“Okay, fair enough. So where are you from and what are you doing here?”

“Brooklyn. And looking for a more relaxed life.”

“Well, here we are very relaxed.” To show how much, he leaned against the register with his elbow, but it slipped. He caught himself. “See?”

I laughed. I didn’t want to get too comfortable, though: things were going well, but I might muck them up. “Bye, Sam.”

As I went down the front steps, Morgan was coming up.

“Hi. What’s up?” she asked.

“Just heading home.”

She held up a DVD box and shook it.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Some sci-fi movie Sam left at my house last night. He loves this stuff. He tried to get me to watch it, but I fell asleep.”

Did they watch movies by themselves or with other friends? Were they boyfriend and girlfriend? I didn’t know her well enough to ask.

Morgan and I stood there for a minute, and then she said, “Well, see ya.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

When I got to my room, I set the butterfly clip on the shelf with my collection. It was a pretty addition. A very
personal item for someone to have lost. Good thing I’d found it.

I lay down on my bed, threw my shoes on the floor, and put my feet up on the wall, feeling sorry for myself.

Either one of them could have invited me to hang out with them today. But why should I have expected that?

I pushed the idea of being friends with Sam or Morgan away and drifted into thoughts of Sarah. When I was in Sarah’s mind, I could forget myself completely. I could be inside someone who seemed so normal, someone who had a normal brother and a normal relationship with him. And the story felt like it was going somewhere. I hadn’t figured out what had happened here yet, but I still bet that I could, if I kept trying.

I rolled over onto my stomach and got the notebook and pen ready.

The pen slipped in my sweaty palm and I dropped it. The sinking feeling went all the way through my stomach to my feet.

I was starting to get a very bad feeling about those dreams. I couldn’t be sure yet, but …

Maybe I could get right back there. I tried to calm my pounding heart, take deep breaths, and find Sarah again. I lifted the pen and tried to steady my hand enough to write again.

“Siena! Come down to lunch!
Now!
”

Oh, gosh! How long had Mom been calling? It seemed like I was gone longer and longer every time I got lost in Sarah’s story.

I scrambled to my feet, knocking over a half-empty glass I’d left on the floor and catching it before it spilled.

“Coming!” I yelled.

I ran downstairs, but I was unable to get rid of that shaky feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

“You’ll watch him for me? Siena?”

I jumped and looked up at Mom. I’d been staring at Lucca eating his hot dog, meat first and tearing the bun into shreds. I’d started this whole visiting-the-past thing with him in mind, to make sure he was comfortable here, and, while I was learning more and more, it wasn’t making anyone feel any better.

My own hot dog was sitting on my plate.

“Siena? You okay?”

“I’m sorry, what, Mom?”

“You’ll watch Lucca so I can work?”

“Yeah, of course.”

I’d take him to the beach. It would be good to get out in the sun for a little while.

At bedtime, I couldn’t shake the creepy feeling from earlier. It hung heaviest in my room. I wanted to know what happened next to Sarah and her family, but I was so tired. Instead of sitting with the pen and learning more, I shut the notebook in one of my dresser drawers. It didn’t really help.

I tossed and turned. It seemed extra dark. I was thinking in circles, about what I’d been seeing in the dreams and what I’d been seeing through Sarah’s eyes. I didn’t exactly know what to do. I hadn’t been scared at night for a long time.

Mom would probably have a heart attack if I went in her room raving about ghosts. She was the last person I could tell about my weird visions. I didn’t need to add another worry to the list.

I tiptoed down the hall and pushed open the door to Lucca’s room. He seemed to be sound asleep, so I lay down on the floor next to his bed on his neighborhood-map rug. It was brighter here, thanks to his Thomas the Tank Engine night-light.

There was tapping on my head.

“Hi, buddy. I’m just going to rest in here for a while.”

Lucca drew his hand back up and settled down again.

I tried to settle down myself by listening to his calm, soft breathing.

I woke up feeling dizzy. In the dim morning light, I came to realize that my face was pressed into a small green lawn next to a little house. Oh, right. Lucca’s rug.

I rolled onto my side to see my brother’s foot hanging off his bed. I gave it a tug; he giggled and pulled it under his sheet.

I sat up. “Ow, my neck hurts.”

“Good morning, Lucca.” Mom came into the room. “And … Siena? What are you doing in here?”

“Having a sleepover.”

She gave me a look that suggested I must have ten heads, shook her own, and told Lucca to get up and go use the bathroom.

Lucca came back in a minute and got right to playing. I climbed onto his bed and watched him push his toy cars around the neighborhood map. Sometimes he made a soft “Vroooom, vroooom.” Maybe Lucca had a problem like I did. Maybe he never said anything because he was half here and half in some other time, all the time.

“Lucca, about the ghosts … can … can you
see
them?”

He shook his head.

“
Hear
them?”

He shook his head again.

That was a relief.

“How do you know they’re here, then?”

Lucca seemed to think for a minute. He raised his hand in the air and spun it, and pressed it on his head, his chest. Then he stroked my arm.