Lucky Me (11 page)

“Are you Anna O'Toole?”

“That's me. How did you know that? I know I'm popular,
but has word of my reputation reached America already?”

“I don't think so. But I'm sure it will soon,” I said. “You know, funny thing, I actually came here looking for you.”

“You did? Do you follow rugby? You don't seem the type.”

“There's a type?”

“Well, they're usually not American. Sometimes English or Scottish, and they're usually taller.”

“Taller?” I didn't think I was short.

She nodded and wiped mustard off her mouth with her arm.

I said, “I was looking for you because of a letter, a chain letter.”

“Hey,” Anna said. “I got a chain letter too. Not that long ago.”

“I know. You sent it to Clare, your cousin.”

“That's right. We call her CiCi.” She looked surprised. “How did you know that? Wait, are you psychic? Can you put me in touch with my dead granny?”

Maybe Anna had gotten knocked in the head and had a concussion.

“I'm not a psychic,” I explained. “I came to talk to you about the letter.”

“Right. You know I got good luck from it. That's when I decided to ask if I could be on the team, and they said yes.” She smiled, and I noticed that she was missing a front tooth.

“Well, I haven't been so lucky. In fact, I've kinda sorta been, like . . .” How should I say this? . . . “Cursed. I'm cursed.”

“Oh, no. That's terrible.” She stepped back, shoved the rest of the soft pretzel into her mouth, and used her free hands to pull a ladybug figurine out of her sock. She rubbed it all over herself.

“What are you doing?”

“Warding off bad luck. Why would you bring it here to me? Why? Do you hate me? You don't even know me. I don't want bad luck.”

This girl was a wee bit o' the Irish—what's the word?—kooky.

I shook my head. “It's not like it's contagious. I made the mistake of not following the rules of the letter. Plus, I actually kind of do know you, and you kind of know me.”

“I think I would know if I knew you. You know what I mean?” Anna rubbed the ladybug on her ears and belly. “People are always trying to unload their bad luck on someone
else. Well, not today. I'm on a roll—just played a great game, so you and your curse better back off.”

I stepped back a bit. “Ladybugs, huh?”

“Yes. Ladybugs,” she snapped. “Now would you mind stepping downwind? I don't want any of your bad luck blowing this way. If I get it on me, I don't know what I'll do.” She paused in her ladybug cleansing. “Why didn't you just send the letters like you were supposed to? Maybe you deserve the bad luck if you didn't follow the instructions.”

I explained the situation about the election, the rush I was in. She listened to every word at a safe distance from me. “So, I have to find the links of the chain letter. I found my cousin Clare.”

“I told you we call her CiCi, and she's
my
cousin, not yours.”

“That's the big surprise in all this. She's my cousin too. Which means
we're
cousins.”

“
Cousin?
Oh, that's just great. The last thing I want is another cousin.”

Ironic that I was dying for another cousin and she didn't want one. “Anyway, I need to double hand-shake with you and then find the person who sent the letter to you.”

“I don't want to touch you.” She extended her hands
like she was shaking the air. “There's your handshake. Now you need to go away and take your bad luck with you. My cousin Quilly sent me the letter. He doesn't need any more bad luck either. Trust me.”

“Quilly? Is Quilly his first name?” At this point she was weirding me out, and I kinda wanted to get away from her too.

“Everyone just calls him Quilly.” She poked a teammate. “Hey, what's Quilly's full name?”

She doesn't know her own cousin's real name?
I guess being part of a bigger family meant that there were a few crazy relatives. I loved the idea that now
I
had a few crazy relatives! YAY!

He said, “Quilly. It's just Quilly.”

I was getting frustrated. How was I going to find this guy without his name?

Another guy was listening, and he said, “Leo . . . er . . . Lem . . . er . . . Lefty . . . er, maybe Ted.”

Anna shrugged. She tucked the ladybug back into her sock; reached into her muddy pocket, where another soft pretzel was hiding; and put it into her mouth. “And you say he's your cousin? How is he related to you?”

“Our mothers are sisters. Why?”

I didn't answer. She'd just confirmed Quilly was my cousin too. This was a lot to process.

“Where does Quilly live?”

She stepped farther away from me. “In the city.”

My face must've asked,
What city?

“Dublin. Maybe you've heard of it?”

“Can you be a bit more specific, like maybe a street address?”

“He works as a tour guide on one of those double-decker buses.” She inched away and spoke louder. “Listen, Quilly has enough trouble. If you're going to see him, it's very important that you don't give him any of your curse. Not even a little bit.” She continued, “Here's what you have to do. Go to Murphy's down the street. Get yourself a ladybug and one for Quilly, too.”

Someone bumped Anna from behind and dumped their soda down her back.

She glared at me. “Look at this. I'm drenched in soda!”

Maybe she hadn't noticed that she was covered in mud and everyone else was pretty much wearing soda too?

“You need to leave, and don't come looking for me again.” I couldn't believe she was genuinely mad at me because someone else had poured soda on her. She turned
away, took the ladybug out again, and rubbed it through her muddy hair.

I was pretty sure she didn't like me.
And
I'd forgotten to invite her to the Spring Fling. Maybe she was going anyway since it was such a big deal. At least I had gotten a lead on Quilly—the second-to-last link—the key to finding the letter's author and ending this whole mess.

I shoved through the crowd looking for Finn. I didn't see him, but my luck started to change when I saw who was sitting next to Mrs. Buck playing Go Fish.

C
arissa!” I exclaimed, shocked.

She ran to me and hugged me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“You said everything sucked, and I told you I was coming. Didn't you get the message?”

I laughed. “Yeah, I did. I didn't think you were serious.”

“As serious as a monkey is about his last banana.” She hugged me again. “Guess where my mom and dad took me for spring break?” She didn't wait long enough for me to answer. “Paris! So, awesome. But when I got your text on our layover in London, we just rerouted to Ireland.”

“You're kidding.”

“Not even a little bit. Then I called that castle you're
staying at— Hello, castle? Freakin' awesome! They gave me Mrs. Buck's digits because you're not answering your phone. She texted me the deets of your location, and Mom and Dad just dropped me off. Guess where we're gonna stay? Don't—I'll tell you. The castle.” She scanned the crowd of rugby players. “This place is awesome! I love Ireland!”

A group of rugby players behind her heard her say this, and cheered. She cheered right back at them, and then they yelled back at her, and she was going to cheer back at them, but I pulled her away. “Stop that,” I said.

“What's wrong with a girl having a little fun?” She waved to the group of boys.

“Come on. Boys can wait.” I moved her farther away from them. “I'm dealing with a curse here, or did you forget? We have something important to do.”

She looked over her shoulder to see if the rugby team was watching her.

With both hands I turned her face back to look at me. “It involves
shopping
,” I said.

“Well, why didn't you say so?” she replied. She hooked her arm in mine and asked, “Where to? You name it. Any place you pick is fine by me. Hollister? Justice? Abercrombie? PacSun?”

“Uh-uh,” I said.

“Nordstrom?” Carissa asked.

“Murphy's.”

“Murphy's?”

“Murphy's.”

“I don't know that place. Let's check it out,” she said.

I led Carissa down the street to a sidewalk store. The
M
had dropped into a
W
, making it look like “Wurphy's.” But it was the letter
U
that signaled to me that this was the place. It was a horseshoe. “Here we are.”

Carissa stared. “This? This is the place?” she asked in disgust.

“This is the place where we'll find a lucky ladybug.”

“Well, then by golly, we'd better go inside and get a ladybug. When the time is right, you'll explain to me exactly why we're buying insects. I don't want to burst your bubble, but bugs are unlucky. They bite, sting, infest, and carry diseases and poison. But, whatev. You know more about this stuff than I do. Maybe I'll get an ant or a housefly. I've always wanted one of those.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop being so dramatic.” I pulled her inside. “And, for your information, neither ants nor houseflies are lucky.”

Murphy's smelled like the bottom of a dirty pipe. It looked like one too. The store was filled with antiques and lots of good luck charms. There were four-leaf clovers, horseshoes, angels, rabbit's feet, wishbones, stars, crystals, seashells, sea glass, sand dollars, and ladybugs. Lots of ladybugs.

“Great store.” Carissa made a face, held her nose with her fingers, and leaned against a wall with peeling wallpaper.

I studied the case that held all of the ladybug figurines. “Which one should I get?”

“Hmmm. Let me think. Oh, I know . . . I don't care! Just pick one out and let's get the heck out of here.” She lowered her voice. “It stinks, and I can't breathe.”

“Ahem.” An old freckled man asked, “What can I do ya for, lassies?” His voice was low and raspy, like he'd smoked a lot of cigars.

I put a ladybug on the counter. He picked it up and held it close to his eyes. “Excellent choice.” He unfolded a piece of soft felt. He put the ladybug figurine that was no bigger than a quarter and no fatter than a raisin into the felt and shined it. He bent down close to me. “You know they're luckiest when they travel in threes,” he said, like he was letting me in on a secret, which was just the look that attracted Carissa.

“Three, you say?” she asked. “Why three?”

“Three is a magic number,” I explained to Carissa.

“That's right,” he said. “I'll do you a hand's turn and give you three for the price of one.”

I didn't know what that meant, but it sounded okay.

Carissa asked, “Why is three magical?”

I said, “It just is. You know—burgers, fries, and a shake. The three blind mice. The three little pigs. The three little kittens who lost their mittens—”

“I get it,” she said. “You convinced me.”

I picked out a ladybug a little bigger and one a little smaller than the original.

“Now let's go see where that rugby team went.” Carissa led the way out of Murphy's.

“Or,” I said, “let's find Quilly, who is the third link we need.”

“The third? Ooooooo. You know, it's a magic number,” she teased.

“Stop it,” I said. “We need to get Finn and get going.” I wondered if there would be something extra lucky about Quilly, since he was third. Maybe something magical was going to happen.

“Quilly, Finn. Finn, Quilly,” Carissa said. “There's
something else you need first. Actually, it's important. Possibly more important than a bug, but I'm not going to debate it with you.”

“What? Another good luck charm? I'm wearing my clover necklace and I have a rabbit's foot in my pocket. I think I'm covered.”

“That's all good,” she said. “But that's not what I was talking about. I haven't asked you why you're dressed that way. And I don't care. But I'm here to encourage you to get a new outfit. I don't think you'll get that kind of support from Mrs. Buck. She doesn't look like much of a
Project Runway
gal, if you know what I mean. Capes are so last year.”

I looked down at myself and was reminded of the donations I was wearing. “Maybe just a shirt.”

“That's all I needed to hear,” Carissa said. “Wait here. I'll take care of everything. That's what a bestie is for.”

While Carissa went into a shop, I unfolded the soft felt and studied the three ladybugs. Each black spot was painted so nicely, probably by hand. I wondered whose. Less than three minutes had passed when Carissa returned with a cute tank top, hoodie sweatshirt, and tan yoga-type pants. “I outdid myself, I know,” she said proudly. “If I were you, I'd put these on now. Like ‘Do not pass go, do not collect
two hundred dollars' until you change clothes.”

I ducked behind a bush and carefully put the tank over the shirt I was wearing and took the other one off underneath and slid it out from under the tank. I pulled the hoodie on. It made me feel like my old self. Then I hid behind a pile of hay and swapped the pants, superfast. “Okay,” I said. “Now let's go find Finn.”

“Right, Finn. Who's Finn? A boy, I hope.”

“Yes. A boy.” I wanted to say “And keep your paws off him” but didn't.

I saw him at the edge of the crowd. He seemed like he was looking for me. My wave caught his eyes, and he caught Carissa's.

“
Hellooo
, Finn,” Carissa said.

C
arissa sat in the soup can's front seat next to Mrs. Buck, who had put her gigantic headphones back on. We strapped most of her stuff to the roof and stowed one of her suitcases at my feet, so my knees were pretty much up my nose. The ride to Dublin was filled with the chatter of me giving Carissa all the information of our adventure.