Some Kind of Happiness (8 page)

He'd disown me if he knew.

I swallow hard. “You mean like how they disowned my dad?”

The kitchen goes still. Stick crouches in front of me, taking my hands. Her smile is gone; she looks older without it. I can see the tiny lines around her eyes.

“Finley . . . Finley, listen to me, sweetie. I'm sorry I said that. It was thoughtless of me. I never wanted Lewis to stay away. None of us wanted that.”

I look Stick in the eye, and I try to imagine myself as beautiful and untouchable as my grandmother.

“Grandma did,” I say, and return to my work. Stick doesn't correct me.

I polish the cabinets until every inch of them shines.

T
HAT NIGHT, AFTER THE ADULTS
have gone to sleep, we all sneak out of the house and down into the pit.

The trees shiver around us, silver with moonlight; the air is soft and warm on my skin. We sit in a circle, and I dig my fingers into the dirt. Four pairs of eyes lock on to me: Kennedy, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head. Dex and Ruth, wide-eyed, sitting on either side of her. Gretchen.

Hello,
I think to the Everwood.
I am here.

I think,
Protect us, hide us,
because if Grandma wakes up and finds us, I'm not sure what she will do.

And then I think to the trees,
I hope you will like my cousins
—because I'm not sure if they will. Or if
I
will like having my cousins here, in my trees, by my river.

It's silly to think of this place as mine, after only a week. I haven't had the time to properly explore yet, since that first day with Gretchen. But they say people can fall in love in a day, or even in a moment.

I wonder if Mom and Dad fell in love in a day, or if it took much longer, and if it makes a difference. If the way you fall in love determines how long you will stay in love, or if you will stay in love at all.

I clear my throat. “What we're here to discuss tonight is the Everwood, and the artifacts Gretchen and I found, and the pirates.”

“And their secret house,” Gretchen adds.

Kennedy looks skeptical. “What pirates?”

“The Bailey boys. It's part of the game.”

I bite my tongue at Gretchen's continued use of the word
game
, too nervous to reprimand her. Kennedy is
twelve
. She must be hiding how ridiculous she finds this situation. She can't honestly care.

Gretchen nudges me. “A-
hem
.”

“A long time ago,” I say, not looking at Kennedy, “I started writing about the Everwood. It's not another world. It's in our world, but you can only find it if it wants you to find it.”

With Gretchen's help I tell them about the Bailey boys, and how they chased us away from the old house back in the woods. Then I take out the shoe and knife from my backpack.

Everyone stares at the knife.

Kennedy frowns at me. “You didn't, like, touch the blade or anything, did you? You were careful? If you cut yourself, you'll need a tetanus shot. Grandma told me that once.”

“Of course we didn't
touch
it,” says Gretchen. “What kind of knight do you think I am?”

“I'm sorry, a what?”

Gretchen throws her arm around me. “I'm a knight, and Finley is the poor orphan child. Everyone needs a part to play.”

“But it's not a game,” I say, avoiding Kennedy's eyes, “or a play.”

I wish we were back inside.

Kennedy is quiet. Then she says, “Okay, cool. What are our choices?”

I look up.
Really?
Kennedy smiles at me. If she thinks this is childish, if she is playing along for the sake of the twins, I can't tell.

I smile back at her.

“I want to be a witch!” Ruth cackles, her fingers curled.

Kennedy covers Ruth's mouth. “You weirdo. Stop screaming. Grandma'll flip if she finds us out here.”

“You can't be a witch,” I explain, “because witches in the Everwood are villainous. Do you
want
to be a villain?”

Ruth appears to be thinking hard about that.

“Well, you can't be,” I say quickly. “We already have the pirates to deal with. Don't you want to be a hero, like Gretchen?”

Gretchen jumps to her feet and flexes her skinny biceps.

Ruth and Dex start laughing—but then the sounds of a slamming door and a crash come from the direction of the Bailey house.

Everyone falls silent.

“We should go inside,” Kennedy says, standing up. “We're so not supposed to be out here. I shouldn't have let this happen.”

“Oh, don't go all
Grandma
on us,” Gretchen hisses. “It's no big deal.”

“Come on,” I whisper. “We have to see what's going on.”

Kennedy frowns but says nothing. We crawl up the far side of the pit and peek out over the top. From here we can see the Bailey house clearly—and the boy sitting on the opposite ledge of the high riverbank.

He is swinging his legs through the air. Picking at the ground. Throwing rocks into the water.

I think it is the medium-sized boy. The one who laughed at me while he chased us. He doesn't look so wild and dangerous now.

“Something's going on over there,” Gretchen whispers. “I just know it. What was that crash?”

Kennedy says, “It sounded like glass breaking. Maybe we should wake up Grandma.”

“And get grounded until the end of time? No thanks.”

“Why is he outside by himself?” Dex asks, squishing lumps of dirt with his thumb.

“I don't know,” I say, “but something
is
going on over there. My dad said something happened when he was a kid. Or he kind of hinted at it, anyway. He said the Baileys aren't good people. That their dad did bad things. But we can't talk about it with Grandma and Grandpa. Okay?”

“What kind of bad things?” Kennedy asks.

“I don't know. But I want to find out what.”

“Why do you care about whatever the Baileys did?” Kennedy crosses her arms. “You don't even know them. None of us do. I mean, we've seen them at school, but we don't actually
talk
to them. So . . . what is it? What's the big deal?”

I don't know how to explain it to her in a way that would make sense—that there is a story in these woods, waiting for me to write it.

That when I write about the Everwood, I don't have to think about anything else. Not Mom. Not Dad.

Not me, spending the summer away from them.

Gretchen pipes up. “Look, the important thing is that there's this really old, beat-up house back in the woods, and we found all this creepy stuff around it. And you can't find an old, beat-up house in the woods surrounded by creepy stuff and
not
go investigate. I mean, come on,
Kennedy.
” Gretchen drops to her knees and tugs on Kennedy's tank top. “You're killin' me, Smalls! You're
killin'
me with your goody-goody ways! I'm
beggin'
ya, don't ruin my fun!”

Kennedy is trying not to smile. “Get off me—you're stretching out my shirt.”

I clear my throat. “As a poor orphan child, with nothing to my name, I beseech you to join me and the Lady Gretchen, knight of the Everwood, in our quest: to explore the Everwood and discover its secrets.”

“Especially the beat-up old house,” Gretchen adds.

“Right. Especially the house.”

Kennedy sighs. “Which is probably
condemned
.”

“Kennedy,” Gretchen whines, “don't be a butt.”

“Kennedy's a butt,” Ruth sings. “Kennedy's a butt.”

“Great,” Kennedy mutters.

“We won't do anything too dangerous,” I say. “I promise, Kennedy.”

Kennedy sighs. “Otherwise everyone'll hate me, I guess?”

“Yep,” Gretchen says. “Forever and ever. Amen.”

“Ugh.”
Kennedy crosses her arms over her chest and stares up at the trees.

Gretchen pats her shoulder. “It sucks being the goody-goody, doesn't it?”

“I'm
not
a goody-goody.”

“Are too,” Gretchen whispers. Dex bursts out laughing.

Kennedy shrugs off Gretchen. Even in the dark I can tell that she's blushing. “Fine. I'll do it. But the second things get dangerous—”

“Sure, sure. Whatever. Let's do this.”

Gretchen picks up a long, skinny stick and looks at me, waiting. I hesitate, but there's no going back now.

“Kennedy Howard,” I say, “you will be our champion. You will serve as general if we should enter into battle, and act as speaker of the Everwood when we forge alliances with foreign parties. Do you accept this title and the duties and responsibilities it entails?”

For a minute it looks like Kennedy is going to change her mind. My heart freezes in my chest.

Then she takes a deep breath and says, “I do.” She kneels, and Gretchen taps her shoulders with the stick. The twins watch, their mouths hanging open.

My opinion of Kennedy skyrockets.

“And you, Dexter and Ruth Prescott,” I say, turning to the twins. “You will be squires to the Lady Gretchen until such time as either age or experience proves you worthy of knighthood.”

Ruth makes a face. “What's a squire?”

“Basically it means you have to do whatever I tell you to do,” Gretchen explains.

“That sounds dumb.”

“Not as dumb as not getting to play at all.”

“You'll still get swords,” I say. “And horses.”

Dex's hand shoots up. “Can I have a unicorn instead of a horse?”

“There are no unicorns in the Everwood. But you can have a
white
horse.”

Ruth tugs on Kennedy's arm. “Do we really have to do everything Gretchen says?”

“Absolutely,” Gretchen says.

Kennedy gives Gretchen a look. “Within reason.”

“So,” I say, “do you accept?”

Dex and Ruth exchange a glance, then kneel in the dirt to be initiated.

“Now what?” asks Kennedy. “What's next?”

“We must take a solemn oath.” I dig in Gretchen's bag for the oversized shoe box she brought from home. “Did you bring your dues?”

Everyone hands me their personal items: a black, ferocious-looking model unicorn from Dex, and from Ruth a collar she
is saving for the kitten she wants for her birthday. Gretchen brought a scruffy plush dolphin named Echo. Before handing him over, she kisses him on the nose.

Kennedy holds on to her MVP soccer medal. “We're keeping these somewhere safe, right?”

“Absolutely,” says Gretchen. “On my honor as a knight, I won't let anything happen to these, our most powerful treasures.”

Ruth giggles. “Why are you talking so funny?”

“Because that's how knights talk, stupid.”

Kennedy says, “Gretchen, come on, don't call her stupid.”

“Kennedy, you have to,” whispers Dex, bouncing on his toes. “Otherwise you can't come to the Everwood!”

Kennedy regally adds her medal to the pile. “Such an important gesture must be given due consideration.”

“Duh!” Ruth hisses. Dex sticks his tongue out at her.

As for me, I tear out my Favorite Words list from my notebook and fold it into a tiny square.

“That's it?” says Gretchen. “You're giving up a piece of paper?”

“You don't understand. There are three hundred and forty-six words on this list. If I lose it, I'll lose years of work.”

Gretchen doesn't look convinced, but I nevertheless put our items into the shoe box and tape it shut. Everyone places their hands on the lid.

“Repeat after me,” I say. “Upon the valuables in this box, I swear to never reveal the secrets of the Everwood quest to
anyone not present tonight. And if I break this promise, I give up all rights to my property contained herein.”

Everyone repeats the oath and crosses their hearts. Now three more people know about the Everwood. It is no longer only mine.

I am not sure how I feel about that. It seemed like a good idea, and yet now I am not so sure.

I follow my cousins up the stone steps. We are going slowly, because Dex keeps slipping in the dark.

Too slowly.

I would like to get back inside now, please, so I can have some time alone to think.

I need some time.

I need to be alone.

Now.

Before Grandma finds us. Before anyone sees me. Before the others change their minds and start laughing at me for playing my stupid Everwood game.

Now.

Now.

Now.

But it is too late; it is already happening.

It slides over me like I have walked through an icy veil:

Fear.