Pieces of Hope (56 page)

“Boys!” Ethan
shouts as if he is rounding up cattle. “We can’t keep Mommy waiting.
Remember—Finley’s having puppies!”

Three
little staggering heads appear. My heart drops to my feet.

FULL
STOP.

Slight
shift to the left.
Just a bend in the
road,
I think,
another path.

Click.
Spin wildly forward.

Lights spread
out before me and I am suddenly high in the clouds—

No, a
building in the clouds. Never have I seen a sight so beautiful. This is what I
would imagine heaven to look like. My heart is pounding with happiness.

His eyes
are sky today. “You were right. Paris
really is for newlyweds.”

I feel
his arms tighten around me.

“We’ll
paint a beautiful life together,” he whispers. “I know we will.”

Then,
just as quickly as it began, the wheel stops spinning and the darkness—still
and quiet—overtakes me. I hear a loud grinding noise as the huge wheel settles into
its original position, and a softer
click
as the lap bar indulgently releases itself.

I
couldn’t open my eyes for a full minute. The detailed images, though no longer
rolling behind my eyelids, left an indelible mark upon me—lingering like
perfume in the air, languishing on my skin.

When at
last the tears leaked through, I opened my eyes. The golden lights seemed dim,
less enchanting. Hovering at the end of the ramp, I saw their faces—all seven
of them—waiting nervously for my reaction. With a burst of sudden energy, I
leaped from the seat, bolted down the ramp, and flung myself into the arms of
my forever family.

Mac
affectionately patted my head. Cat kissed my cheeks. Arms and more arms were
around me. There was a guffaw, followed by some nervous giggling as they
shuffled around each other, everyone talking at once.
Rin
,
hidden behind two blue fluffs of cotton candy, handed one to me. “Sugar,” she
said sagely, “is good for the soul.”

I tore
off a chunk, letting it melt on my tongue. Sure enough, it eased the shaking in
my bones.

They
were all looking at me, waiting for something.

“Everything’s
going to be all right now,” I told them, my tongue finding a puff of blue sugar
that had landed on my chin. “Really, it will.”

“Of
course it’s going to be all right, doll,” Mac said with an easy smile. “I tried
to tell you that. You were just too stubborn to listen.”

“
I
tried to tell her that,” Cat
interrupted. “The rest of you just indulged her. I told you, Vivienne, when she
was just a baby . . . ‘Spoil her now. Pay later.’”

Mom gave
her a loving look. “Oh, Cat, don’t go telling me that. David used to say you
spoiled her more than I did. You insisted on rocking Hope even when she was
fast asleep.”
 

Cat gave
her a disgruntled look as if that was beside the point.

“Wait a
second . . . McAllister, right?” I was peering from Cat to Mac, Mac to Cat,
when I nearly heard a
clunk
in my
head. “Isn’t there a picture of you on our mantle? Are you? You’re
Gigi’s
parents, aren’t you? My great grandparents?” The
hair was grayer, the faces plumper, the skin looser. But the old guy on Mom and
Dad’s mantle had a twinkle in his eye and a gap between his teeth. And the old
woman had that same steely-eyed look about her, one Claire often had.

They
died when I was two. Until today and my wild Ferris wheel ride, I’d never known
much about them.
 

“You’re
slow as molasses, kid.” Mac grinned. “Slower . . . I’ve seen snails quicker
than you.”

I poked
him playfully in the chest. “You don’t exactly look the same, you know—and it’s
not like I expected my great-grandparents to pop back from the dead. Things
like that just don’t happen every day.”

“Maybe
not in your world,” Cat reminded me.

Then it hit
me. “I was named after you!”

“Yes,
and you dislike it so much that you use your middle name,” Cat said frostily.
Name’s short for Catherine—like yours. But
you go by Hope. How could I ever forget?
 

“I meant
no offense. It’s a lovely name,” I told her. “It just never sounded like me.
Oh!” I blurted. “Thanks for rocking me all those extra times when I was little
. . . I can remember them now, you know.”

“Yes,
well . . .” She cleared her throat and looked away. The thin sheet of ice that
covered her melted quickly, and as Cat glanced back, I saw the tears in her
eyes.

Mom
filled in a few more gaps. “It may be a little confusing, honey, or maybe it’s
just me.” She laughed. “You know how bad I am with numbers. But Mac used to
know Finley.” Mom, Mac and Cat exchanged an eyeball look; I wasn’t sure what it
meant, but I remembered that Daniel used to be Finley.

“You
mean from their other lifetime?” I asked.

“No,
that’s the confusing part,” she explained. “Cat and Mac were born in the
twenties. In the forties, they’d just graduated high school. While Mac was away
at college studying to be an engineer, he met Finley—who preferred to skip
class, daydream, and paint. But despite all that, the two of them became fast
friends.”

Surprise
rocked my body. Whoa. I thought of Shakespeare and tangled webs and
multi-dimensional ten-thousand piece puzzles. Mac and Daniel used to be
friends? I stood there for a moment, taking it all in, devouring more blue
fluffs of sugar to see if it helped slide the pieces into place. It seemed to be
working. So I shoveled more in.
  

Mac
chuckled. “For once, she’s speechless.”

“It’s a
nice trait,” Cat added, flashing me a teasing grin.

Just behind
Rin
and Charlotte, on the Grizzly bear bench, there
was a dark hint of glistening skin surrounded by boxes of sugary substances.
Gus and
Creesie
had retreated there; I could hear
them laughing as he told the punch line—“That’s too good a pig to eat all at
once.”

“Time to
fill in the last pieces of the puzzle,” I muttered, taking Mom’s hand as I
walked to the bench. The others, already knowing what I planned to ask her (my
fingers felt that gentle tugging), went back to talking amongst themselves.
“Hey,
Creesie
. . .”

Creesie
beamed at me. She had her hand halfway to her
mouth, powdered sugar on her fingers, and a funnel cake in her lap. “I’m the
missing link, aren’t I? You want to know where I fit in to this story.”

“Eavesdropper!”
Mac cried from behind me. “
Creesie
, now you’re
showing off for no reason at all!” Cat pulled on Mac’s ear to turn his head,
and I laughed.

Mom
moved aside several empty boxes of sweets and sank down beside
Creesie
. Gratitude was all over her face. Though I wasn’t
reading her mind, I knew what she was thinking . . .
Creesie
had gotten me here. And
Creesie
had kept me safe.
With a shudder, I thought back to my thirteen-day journey. My first pangs of
the upcoming goodbye hit me square in the chest. I would miss her. I would miss
all of them so much.

Gus slid
to the end of the bench; I sat down next to
Creesie
.

“Try to
remember that I don’t have all of eternity,” I teased her.

She grinned.
“Still trying to hurry me up, I see . . .”

“
Creesie
is only here because of you,” Mom said, sending
another glowing look of gratitude her way. “They say that love makes the world
go round, but I’ve always thought it was kindness. I’ve been especially proud
to know my children think the same way.

“It’s
because of that kindness, Katydid, and your willingness to save a stranger’s
life on a drugstore parking lot three years ago that we sit here today. You
gave her four more years with her beloved, Joseph. Because of you, she came
within days of celebrating her sixtieth anniversary. It was a date that was
very dear to her heart . . . if only because it meant so much to Joseph.”

I had a
momentary flashback to the accident, and
Creesie’s
death—the thought of a missed anniversary flitting through and then out of
me.
    

Mom went
on, graciously waving off
Creesie’s
offering of sweets.
“Once I found her, it took very little convincing on my part to get her to
help. After all,
Creesie’s
such a good soul that even
if you hadn’t saved her life, I’m guessing she still would have said yes.”

“Sugar
would have sweetened the pot, Vivienne.”
Creesie
reached
for more of the diminishing fluff of cotton candy. At last, I could see all of
Mom’s face around it.

“In the
span of a lifetime,” Mom said, “one never knows how far those kindnesses will
ripple . . .”

“Like
tossing a pebble into a pond,”
Creesie
agreed, “and
rescuing the fly from the frog.”

“And what
about you, Gus?” I asked, ignoring the truth of that analogy. “How do you fit
into this?”

In his
light-as-salt accent, Gus said, “Me? Oh, I’m nothing special . . . More of an
old family friend, really.”

“That’s
it?” I was on the verge of asking who’s family? But there was something weird
going on with my left hand. As I reached for more cotton candy, it suddenly
went see-through. “That’s weird.”

They
didn’t look startled, but all three of them stood abruptly.

“It’s
time,” Mom said, taking my hand. “Nothing to be scared of—it’s just a sign that
you’re becoming even more separated from your physical body. We need to get you
back now.”

We took
the same path Mom and I had meandered down earlier—only at a much brisker
pace—Mom on my right,
Creesie
on my left—the rest of
them a few steps behind. This time the moon was full and bright. And blue, like
my mood. Though my heart was racing at the thought of having to say goodbye, a
squeak of laughter escaped me.

“Mom, do
you have to be so literal?”

“Not
me,” she smiled, her eyes shifting toward
Creesie
.

“Some
things do happen once in a blue moon,” she reminded me. “I keep telling you
there’s a reason for these clichés.”

A few
paces ahead, I spied a fork in the road. I refrained from rolling my eyes. Not
so difficult to avoid; I was too busy crying to get a good eye-roll in.

Their arms
were around me again, patting me, squeezing me. I realized I had no idea how to
tell them goodbye. I already missed them terribly.

Charlotte’s voice in my
head was unexpected.
Be brave, Hope . . .

I
thought back to my mind-boggling journey, my trip down memory lane, my mother’s
valiant efforts to return me safely home. I thought about Ethan and Daniel and
how my life could unfold, one way or the other—in immeasurably different ways,
if I only took the leap—but at least, there, it would unfold in some way. Here,
I would never get that chance.

I had
one last question for her, but the words wouldn’t come. Wrapped in Mom’s arms,
I inhaled the sweet scent of her. “This was your glimpse, Katydid,” she
whispered. “I hope it’s a little sweeter for you now. Always remember—life is a
beautiful thing.”

By the
time I turned away, the sun was rising at the end of the very straight road. It
stretched on forever. Perfectly spaced Cypress trees lined either side, and
grass the color of Ethan’s eyes ran as far I could see. It didn’t seem real. I
thought I saw paint marks.

“It was
a painting I saw once,” Charlotte said shyly. “It looks like such a happy place,
doesn’t it? I thought it was fitting.”

I nodded
as I looked again, pausing as long as I could. “I guess this is goodbye?” I
choked, my voice breaking at the
good
.
It was, I was thinking, anything but good.

“And how
do you plan on getting there, young lady?” Cat asked sharply.

“Oh, I
don’t know . . .” Following Cat’s cue (the sarcasm made it easier) I glanced at
my red sneakers, thought of the wonders and magical beings in this place and
muttered, “I guess I’ll tap my heels together and mumble something about home.”

There
was a pause. No comeback. My heart stopped. I thought for sure that one of them
was about to tell me this had been a dream—only and just a dream—until Gus
threw up his long arms and howled, “Gotcha!”

Everyone
but Charlotte
laughed. Then, quite seriously, she said, “Why wouldn’t we just take a
shortcut?”

“We?” It
was too good to be true. “Did you say we?”

With a
snort, Cat said, “You didn’t think after all of our hard word we would send you
back home alone, did you? You’d lose your way in a heartbeat . . .”

“In a
blinding instant,” seconded Mac.

“Faster
than a one-eyed Eskimo selling sunglasses in a snowstorm,” Gus concluded. It
was probably the punch line of a recent and very bad joke.
   

“
Wha
—I—Yeah, no doubt!” I high-fived Gus.
 

Mom
brushed back that same strand of hair, tucking it neatly again behind my ear.
“That’s why we’re sending
Rin
and Charlotte back with
you.”

I
exhaled heavily, my brave front exhausted. “That’s good news . . . great news,
in fact.”

Rin
and Charlotte nodded, Charlotte more enthusiastically. This was
better than I could have hoped for—I wasn’t going back to the living realm
alone. With Mom and I super-glued to each other’s fingertips, I couldn’t
imagine where I was going to find the strength to tear us apart. Now that
Rin
and Charlotte were in the picture, the separation
seemed slightly less painful.

“You can
talk to me anytime,” Mom said, making sure to keep her voice light and
even—almost casual—as if this wasn’t permanent. “On any given day, I’m not more
than a whisper away.”