Lucky Me (7 page)

The floorboards creaked as I padded down the stairs. I stopped because I thought the sound would wake someone
up, then realized the whole place was creaking. The chandelier had been cleaned up (I assumed by Owen and Gene), and the massive table was set with new mismatched china for breakfast. I wondered what my parents would do in a few hours when they sat there and realized I was gone. One thing was certain. I'd be in
major
trouble. But I didn't change my mind. This was something I
had
to do, and if that meant I'd be punished—well, that was the price I was willing to pay.

I sat by the fire, where a few embers remained, and put on my sneakers. Then I pulled the heavy wooden front door open. Just a speck of sun rose over the horizon.

I'm really doing this,
I thought.

Finn held the door to the soup can open and waved me in. Mrs. Buck was behind the wheel.

“What's she doing?” I asked him.

“It's perfect. She wanted to get out for a while, and now we also have an adult with us, so you can't get in trouble. She doesn't talk, so it'll be like she isn't even here,” Finn said. “I call that a win-win.”

I guessed it wasn't a completely bad idea. She seemed like a nice enough lady—a weird, silent, and caped lady, but nice enough.

“All right.” I got into the backseat. Finn climbed in next to me.

“What are we telling our parents?”

“Mrs. Buck left a note that we're looking for links on the way to visit her brother for dinner. And she gave them her cell number.”

I had to admit, it really did sound perfect. Then Finn asked, “So, what's the plan?”

“I'm going to call my newly found aunt Colleen and ask her if she knows Clare. I mean, they have the same last name. How else would Clare have gotten my address?” I fiddled with my phone. “The letter was postmarked from Limerick. There are fifteen Colleen Gallaghers there. I'll start calling them, I guess.” I let out an excited laugh.

“Wait a sec,” Finn said. “It's not even seven o'clock in the morning.”

“Fine. I'll wait till eight.”

“Umm, maybe nine.”

“Eight thirty,” I compromised.

Mrs. Buck drove down the bending road and passed Ballymore Village, which was as quaint as they'd said it was. If I hadn't been cursed, it would've been a cool place to spend a few days.

“Do you know how to get to Limerick?” I asked Mrs. Buck.

She gave me a thumbs-up.

The arch of the sun showed bright green fields, broken up by low rock walls that acted like fences. Some squared sections of the fields were a deeper, richer green than others. The pattern of oddly shaped squares continued over the low hills and as far as I could see.

At the sight of the sun, Mrs. Buck pulled goggles over her head and slipped on black leather driving gloves and gigantic headphones. From the nod of her head, it seemed that she liked what she heard.

We drove through Cork City and saw its colorful four-story row homes. “Why are these houses painted different colors?” I asked.

“The story goes that it's for men when they come home after a night at the pubs. The colors help them know which house is theirs.”

“You're making that up,” I said.

“I'm not,” he said. “Apparently, after stumbling into the wrong home several times, someone had the idea to paint theirs a distinguishing color to make it easier to find. I
don't know if it's true, but that's what I heard. And it makes sense.”

As we left the city, we drove by pastures, each a darker and more brilliant green than the last. Sitting in some of the fields were chunks of crumbling stone wall that looked Gothic and ancient.

“What's that?” I asked, pointing at the rocky rubble.

Finn said, “This entire city was once surrounded by a tall stone wall. The people of Cork didn't venture out, and outsiders weren't allowed in.”

“Why?”

“There were medieval battles for land and power. Vikings came from Scandinavia and would ruthlessly smite entire villages.”

Smite?
Not a Delaware word.
Oh, I love Finn's accent.

He continued, “People who ventured to marry outside the walls were banished.”

“Being banished is a little extreme, isn't it?”

“I don't know. They must've been very afraid of whatever was going on out there. I'm thinking dragons,” he said. I didn't think he was serious, but I wasn't sure.

Driving in Ireland felt bizarre to me. Mrs. Buck drove
on the opposite side of the road. Little cars whizzed by us, fast, like there weren't any speed limits. If there were, they weren't really laws. They were more like suggestions.

Suddenly I remembered Carissa. I hadn't texted her since the hospital. I typed a very quick text: “The mission has started. All ok.”

S
ometimes, out of nowhere, a random sheep would just walk out into the road. As we kept driving, I figured with my current bad luck it was only a matter of time before we hit a sheep or a shepherd, or a car, or a building, or—

“What's wrong?” Finn asked.

I cracked the window open and took in a breath of fresh air. “I think riding on the wrong side of the road is making me a little carsick,” I said, and put a hand over my stomach.

“Ever think
you're
the ones who drive on the wrong side of the road?” he shot back. “Do you want Mrs. B. to pull over?”

“No, I'm fine.” But I wasn't fine; I was panicking a little. I mean, what if something cursed and terrible happened out here on the road? I reached into my pocket and palmed
my rabbit's foot, which wasn't my favorite good luck charm, because I couldn't get over the fact that it had been very unlucky for the rabbit.

I sucked in the cool morning air until exactly eight thirty, when I dialed the first number for Aunt Colleen. It was wrong, but the woman was nice and told me who to call next. She was also the wrong one. I continued calling. Mostly they didn't answer the phone. Finn kept telling me it was because they were still asleep. I left messages on answering machines.

“I'll call them again in an hour.” But we arrived in Limerick before that.

“The first thing we're gonna do is get us a burger,” Finn said.

“It's early for a burger.”

“Well, we have to eat something,” he pointed out. “And we can try a local custom for finding someone.”

“What?”

“We ask around and see if anyone knows them. It's low-tech, but it works more often than you would think.”

“Ha-ha,” I said. I got what he was saying, but I had my doubts.

Limerick bustled in the mid-morning. Both sides of
the cobblestone street were lined with two-story shops and restaurants with wooden tables and chairs set up outside. “Let's go in here.” He pointed to a busy place called Kelleher's.

We sat at a mahogany table that had enough nicks and dents to be an English muffin. I wondered for a sec if the Irish called them English muffins or something else. Mrs. Buck made a funny movement with her thumbs and disappeared to a pinball machine in the corner. She kept on her goggles, headphones, and cape.

We ordered Cokes. They arrived in tall, slender glasses. The Coke was warm. “Finn?” I asked. “Do you think I could have some ice?”

He called to the waitress. “Some ice for the American, please.”

She frowned but brought a glass of ice and asked me a hundred questions. What was my name? Where was I from? Was I related to Liam McGlinchey? Who'd made my scarf? Where were we staying?

Finn said to her, “We're looking for Clare Gallagher. Do you know her?”

To my surprise the waitress nodded. “Sure I do. Which one?”

T
here's one-armed Clare; she lives on Post Street. And old Clare, who is in the nursing facility around the bend. Clare the baker. Clare the maid; she's nuts. And young Clare.” She looked at the clock. “Young Clare should be here any minute for the Commencement.”

“I think we're probably looking for young Clare,” I said. “Although, I suppose she could have one arm. How old is that one?”

“About your age, I guess. They should both be here soon.” She put a bowl of nuts on our table, and Finn ordered a sandwich. I got another Coke.

Finn said, “I guess we'll meet two of the Clares soon.
My money is on young Clare, because how could one-armed Clare write the letter?”

“She could write it with her one good arm,” I said.

“Fifty percent chance that she can't.”

I sipped my Coke, which was so much better cold. “Finn, you've gotta try this.”

He took the straw out of his glass, put it in mine, and sipped. He winced at first, then tilted his head. “Not too bad.” He put his straw back into his own glass.

“What's the Commencement?” I asked.

“It's the official start of the sheep hunt.”

I was still confused.

He explained, “Every year right before the Spring Fling one sheep is marked with a big red bow around its neck. He wanders around the countryside. If you find him, and claim the ribbon, you get to be the guest host of the Spring Fling. It's an honor. The Commencement is when everyone starts looking for the lost sheep. It's also an excuse to have a street party. We do that a lot.”

Within the next ten minutes the pub was packed. People of all ages, shapes, and sizes introduced themselves to me. These were really friendly people. I met a lot of girls named Clare—all of them had two arms. None was referred to as
“young Clare” and none of them had sent me a letter.

Soon there was a ruckus out in the street, and before I knew it, Finn was pulling me outside to the cobblestone sidewalk, into the thick of this Commencement.

Music started, people clapped, and I heard the sound of rhythmic clicking that I knew oh so well. I climbed up onto the base of a streetlight to see six girls Irish dancing—right there on the street. Their legs flew so fast, they were a blur. Their matching curls bounced as they slip-jigged from one side of the street to the other. I'm a really good Irish dancer, but these girls were great. Their ornate sequined dresses sparkled in the sun, making them look almost like magical . . . What are those forest fairies called? . . . Pixies! The dancing went on and on until in one perfect stomp they stopped.

Everyone cheered.

One man, an announcer of some kind who had a megaphone, went on to explain the rules for the sheep hunt, which Finn had already covered.

Then he introduced Kaitlyn, Sophie, Kiera, CiCi, Liadin, and Clare. Wait, could this be “young Clare”?

I inched my way through the crowd to get to her, and grabbed a sequined shoulder. “Clare?”

The girl turned around. “No, I'm Sophie. Clare is over there.”

I found Kiera and Kaitlyn before young Clare.

Slightly breathless, I stood in front of her. “Clare?”

She nodded.

“I'm Meghan,” I said. “I'm so glad I found you.”

“Hello, Meghan. Thank you for watching the dance. Good luck with the sheep hunt.” And she swung back into the crowd.

“Wait.” But she was far away. “Clare! Wait!” She heard me and came back.

“Yes?”

“I'm Meghan. Meghan McGlinchey from Wilmington, Delaware. You sent me a chain letter?” I asked.

She stared at me like I was insane. “Meghan McGlinchey? Sorry. I've never heard of you.”

I
froze. “But you're Clare Gallagher, from Limerick, right?”

“Yeah, I am. But maybe you're looking for CiCi,” she said.

“No. Thanks anyway, but I need to find Clare.”

“CiCi
is
Clare. She's Clare Catherine. I'm Clare Rose. It gets confusing, so we call her CiCi. She's right over there.”

I thanked her and ran in the direction she pointed. I found the curly-haired CiCi and tapped her gently on the shoulder. “Excuse me, CiCi?”

“Yes?”

“I'm Meghan McGlinchey, from Delaware.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “My dear cousin! It's so good to finally meet you. I thought I had to wait until Friday, but here you are!” She gave me a huge hug.

“Cousin?” I paused. “Wait. Your mom's Aunt Colleen?”

“Yes. Of course.”

I'd never had a cousin before.

She asked, “Did you get my letter?”

“I sure did.”

“Wasn't it so cool—on paper and everything? I was very excited when I got an old-fashioned letter. I mean, who does that? I couldn't wait to send it to my friends. I just could not wait! Wasn't that so awesome to get it in the regular mail? And guess what?” She didn't wait for my answer. “Right after I sent you that letter, I won a big dancing trophy—really, really, really big! So I know the luck is real. It's real!” She hugged me again. “I am so glad it found you. What good luck did you get?”

My smile dropped, and I felt the excitement of my cousin discovery fade from my face.

“Oh, no. What happened?” she asked worriedly.

I explained it all, starting with the socks and ending with the chandelier.

“How could that happen?”

I closed my eyes so I didn't have to look at her when I said it. “I e-mailed it.”

“What? Why did you do that? Why?”

“I wanted to be class president. I thought I could get good luck faster and win the election if I went the electronic route. Like, poof, instant luck! And now I'm cursed, and I have to find all the links to reverse the curse.”

“Well, you and your boyfriend found me, so maybe your luck is starting to change.” She referred to Finn, who stood nearby, listening.

“Oh, he's not my boyfriend,” I said quickly.

Finn added, “Just friends. We just met.”

“Really? Well, he looks like a nice friend, and I'm glad you're here. So glad. So glad!” She hugged me again. “Come on. Let's get a picture for our parents. They'll love it.” She handed her phone to Finn. “Could you?”