Brilliant Hues Page 13

  “Does the wind mean anything?” Frankie asked. “I know I wasn’t here for the musical, but since the clue is so short, maybe one of the scenes had something to do with wind? Or one of the places is windier than the others?”

  Andrew locked eyes with me, and we both knew. One of his lines at the end of the show had been about how the girl’s song joined the music of the wind through the trees. He’d hated the line because he couldn’t remember the exact wording, and we’d had to work and work on it to get it just right.

  “You know, don’t you?” Frankie asked.

  We both nodded.

  “Let’s make a run for it, then,” Ruth said. “Don’t say anything out loud because someone might hear you. Just run and we’ll follow.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t meander? Like we’re not sure?” Frankie asked.

  We all glanced around at the other groups. Lots of them looked like they were coming to a decision, ready to move.

  “Nope, this time we’d better run,” Andrew said. “Ready, set … go!”

  We sprinted across the field toward the area of forest where we’d played the last scene. I could hear people shouting and a few others starting to run, too, but we had a head start. Halfway to the trees, my lungs felt like they would explode, but I forced myself to keep up with Andrew. Finally, when I felt like I would trip over my feet and fall on my face, or die from lack of oxygen, we burst into the trees and doubled over, gasping for breath. Seconds later, Helen, Vivian, and their group joined us, with Ted’s group right behind.

  Penny had set up tall round tables where we could stand and eat, with bright colored tablecloths and flowerpots with Gerber daisies for centerpieces. She handed out envelopes in the order we arrived and we huddled up again to study our clue.

  Boxes, tape, bows and ribbons

  Here great gifts were shown and given

  We all knew immediately. The caretaker’s cabin, where we’d given Christmas to the Thompson family. As we studied the faces of the other teams, we saw they knew too. Hopefully some of Penny’s clues were a little harder, or we’d be neck in neck the whole way.

  Every team had arrived at the first course area within minutes, and Penny climbed onto a large stump. “The first course, an appetizer, is Ants on a Log!”

  “I’m not eating ants!” Ted shouted, but Penny jumped down to uncover trays of celery sticks, filled with peanut butter, and dotted with raisins. Three waitresses, dressed in overalls and plaid shirts, with their hair in pigtails or braids, wearing straw hats, came out of the trees, and started passing through the group with trays, handing out napkins and celery sticks.

  When we’d all had our fill, Penny gave us the go ahead. “All right, Frankie’s team, you’re first. Go!”

  We took off running, this time at a slower pace because we knew we’d arrive at the cabin before anyone else with a three-minute head start.

  Picnic blankets had been laid out in the cabin’s front yard. We sat down and Andrew picked up the envelope that had already been placed on the blanket ahead of time. Just then, my phone rang. I jumped, not used to the sound.

  “You have a phone?” Ruth asked. “I didn’t know that!”

  “Only for emergencies.”

  Which meant this was an emergency. I stood up and walked a few feet away to answer.

  “Hello?”

  Pippa’s voice crackled over the line. My first thought was that I must not have a good connection. My second thought was … What? Pippa’s calling me? I hadn’t expected her to actually call. I’d thought she’d email first. Maybe she was so upset she couldn’t write me. I braced myself for the worst.

  “Sadie, are you there?” she asked again.

  “Hi, Pips,” I said.

  “Sadie, you have to come home.”

  “I have to what?”

  “Charlotte asked for you all day at camp. Cici is a lot worse, Sades. I think she’s dying. Charlotte needs you.”

  I stopped breathing.

  In the background, I could hear Alexis’ voice. “Pippa, what are you doing? Are you on the phone?”

  “I have to go, Sadie. I wasn’t supposed to call you. Just … just figure out a way to come home. Okay? Please?”

  The line went dead. She must have hung up just as her mom came into the room.

  I stood there for a minute, looking at the cabin, trying to absorb the news, trying to start breathing again. Cici might be dying? Charlotte needed me. And even though so much was wrong between us, Pippa had called. I scanned my friends’ worried faces. Andrew. Frankie. Ruth. I’d just gotten here. Now, I was supposed to turn around and go home? The thought made me feel sick. I could still feel the soft brush of Andrew’s lips against my fingertips. How could I leave, knowing this might be the last time I’d see him? I’d see Ruth again at the end of the summer, but depending on where Frankie went, I might never see her either.

  I walked slowly back to join the group on the blanket as Helen’s team charged up, pouncing on a blanket and ripping open the clue.

  “Everything okay, Sadie?” Andrew asked.

  “It’s …” Once again, I was crying, and I couldn’t stop the tears. I swiped at them angrily. “No.”

  Immediately, Ruth and Frankie were at my sides, each with a hand on my shoulder.

  I shook my head, trying to find words, any words. “Cici is dying.”

  Even though they didn’t know who Cici was, their faces fell, all three of them. I felt them squeeze in tighter, Andrew gripping my hand, the girls holding my shoulders.

  “What can we do to help?” Ruth asked. “Who called?”

  “Pippa.”

  “I’ll find tissues.” Ruth ran for the cabin.

  Helen and Vivian came over.

  “Sadie, what is it?” Vivian asked.

  “I need to call my parents.”

  When Ruth came back with tissues, I sopped up my tears and blew my nose. Then, I convinced them to let me go back into the forest on my own. I needed space to talk to my parents.

  I dialed our house and waited. Dad picked up.

  “Hello?” he said, his voice laced with tension.

  “Dad.”

  He must have heard in the way I said his name that I knew, because he didn’t say anything right away. When he finally spoke, he said, “Oh, Sadie.”

  “Dad, Charlotte is asking for me. I have to come home.”

  “How do you—”

  “Pips told me. I know she wasn’t supposed to, but Dad, if Charlotte needs me, I should come.”

  “Sadie, we just sent you to Owl Creek. You can’t keep flying back and forth across the country.”

  “I know. I know if I come home I have to stay. But I have to come, Dad. Please.”

  “I don’t want you here during the trial, Sadie. It’s too much pressure. You just …”

  “I just need to come home, Dad. For Charlotte.”

  “For Charlotte,” Dad repeated. “What are you going to do, Sades? You can’t …”

  “I know I can’t fix anything, Dad, and I don’t know what I’ll do, but I have to be there for her. Please.”

  A long silence followed, and I could almost hear Dad weighing the options. Of course, he’d rather I stayed in Owl Creek where I was safe, where I didn’t have to face Karl, or Cici’s death for that matter. I knew he wanted to protect me from all of it.

  “Dad,” I spoke into the silence. “You know how sometimes there’s something you just have to do?”

  Dad blew out a sigh. “Yes.”

  “This is like that, Dad. I need to come home.”

  After another long pause, Dad sighed again. “All right, Sades. Pack your bags. I’ll call Ruth’s dad and make the arrangements.”

  The impossible had happened. Dad had agreed to let me come home. But as I walked back to tell Andrew and Ruth and Frankie, my body was still heavy with dread. Leaving Owl Creek now would be at least ten times as hard as it had been the first time. I stopped just before I stepped back out of the trees, gathering myself.


  You are not alone.

  Yes. After everything, I’d almost forgotten that I didn’t have to do this, any of it, on my own. And that made all the difference.

  I closed my eyes and whispered, Please help me.

  Chapter 23

  Trust Me

  I stuffed my last shirt into the suitcase, zipped it up, and sat down on the guest room bed next to Ruth. “I’m sorry we lost the competition.”

  “Like anyone’s worried about that,” Ruth said, studying my face. “Are you really going to be okay?”

  “So many things are mixed up together, Ruth. I don’t want to leave, and I …”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing,” Ruth said. “Really. I know Andrew’s sad to see you go, and of course Frankie and I would rather you stayed longer, but we understand. All of us.”

  Coming to Owl Creek had been such a relief, after so much trouble at home, so much not fitting, and I didn’t want to have to leave again so soon. I was only just beginning to figure things out.

  “What if I don’t do the right things?” I asked. “What if I don’t know what to say to Charlotte? Her twin sister is dying and they’re six years old. What can I possibly say?”

  Ruth locked eyes with me, her expression serious. “Sadie, you seem to always know the right thing to say. Truly. Maybe you don’t know ahead of time, but when the moment comes, you just do. They say God gives people special gifts, and maybe that’s one of yours.”

  Her words reminded me of Grant, and how I hadn’t known what to say when the moment had come with the girls, or with Pips. “But I can’t always …”

  “They say God gives people special gifts, and I think that’s one of yours,” Ruth said, firmly.

  “I’ve been messing that up a lot lately, Ruth. I didn’t say anything at all to Karl, had no idea what to say to Pips, couldn’t figure out how to stop the girls before they cheated in the design competition …”

  “So since you made some mistakes, you’re going to give up?” Ruth asked.

  I closed my eyes, but all I could see was Charlotte’s face. “No. I can’t give up.”

  Ruth’s mom knocked softly and opened the door. “Ruth, we should let Sadie get some sleep. Her flight is early tomorrow.”

  Ruth hugged me tight. “Good night, Sades. See you in the morning.”

  When the door closed behind them, I slipped under the covers and closed my eyes. But after fifteen minutes, I knew it was no use. I turned on the bedside light and took out my sketchbook.

  The pages with the doorway in the creek, and the pages with the girl on the island seemed like they must go together somehow. Maybe after traveling through the watery doorway, the girl found herself on the island, isolated and alone. I started sketching, not thinking so much as just following the lines as they showed up on the paper. The girl was still on the island, but in the water, a hand reached up, a person in need. In the next frame, the girl stood, watching, wondering if she could swim that far. What if she swam out, only to drown too? Still, she couldn’t stand by and not do anything at all. So, in the next frame, the girl dove into the water, and when she did, she found that like the creek, the water was a doorway to something else, a totally new place. Under the water’s surface, just a little way down, were caverns and streams. The thrashing girl didn’t have to drown, instead, she just needed to swim deeper.

  Trust me.

  If the ocean wasn’t really the ocean, and I wasn’t actually isolated on a tiny island, with no way to communicate with God, how was I supposed to know what was real? If I couldn’t count on what I saw to be true?

  Trust me.

  And how was I supposed to know that everything would turn out okay? What if it didn’t?

  Trust me.

  As the questions in my head settled, and my arguments died out, I realized I wouldn’t, couldn’t know. Still, God had been with me this whole way, and now he was asking me to trust him. And no matter how hard that was, no matter how hard it would be for the girl to dive off the island into the ocean, I wouldn’t know if there was more than I could see unless I did what God had asked. Unless I trusted.

  I turned off the light, lay back, and whispered into the dark. I’m still afraid.

  A few words from a prayer from the Book of Common Prayer slipped into my mind. I’d prayed these words every night for a while, earlier this year. The prayer was like a miniature gift, a kind of answer.

  In thy mercy, grant us safe lodging, a holy rest, and peace at last. Amen.

  Peace at last. A holy rest. I played the words over and over in my mind until I drifted off to sleep.

  The morning was a whirlwind of breakfast and hugs and loading up the car. I slept for most of the flight and only started to get nervous again as the plane touched down in San Francisco.

  Dad was waiting for me at the gate, and he wrapped me in his arms.

  “Thank you for letting me come home, Dad.”

  “We missed you, Sades.” He sounded so tired—the trial must not be going well.

  I decided to get my idea out of the way right now. Dad would hate it, but maybe, just maybe, it would work. “Dad, I want to talk to Karl.”

  Dad stared at me. “Absolutely not, Sadie. No.”

  “You’d be there, Grant would be there, anyone else could be there, too. I just think … For some reason, I think he might listen to me.”

  “Sadie, I know you want to help Charlotte, and honestly, by coming home to spend time with her, that’s helping. That’s enough. There’s no reason for you to talk to a crazy person.”

  “Karl told me all about his sister. He confided in me, Dad. I think he might listen to me, if I could only be brave enough to talk to him. I feel like I have to try.”

  “Let’s walk.” Dad took my bag and put his arm around me. “There are a lot of things you feel like you just have to do these days, aren’t there, Sades? Give me a chance to think it over, okay? I’m not sure about the best thing to do.”

  Grant was waiting for us outside the security gate.

  “Can I see Charlotte?” I asked, looking from one of them to the other.

  “Tomorrow. She’ll be at camp,” Dad said. “Tonight, she’s with her mom doing girls’ night while her dad sits with Cici.”

  I needed to talk to Pips, then, so that we’d be ready for tomorrow. I couldn’t go into camp with the strangeness still between us.

  “Can Pips come over for dinner?” When Dad looked doubtful, I added, “I promise I won’t ask for lots of hang out time. I know you need to work on the case. We just need to plan what to do for art tomorrow, and I want to be ready, for Charlotte. Okay, Dad?”

  Dad studied my face, as though he was gauging how important my request was, in the scheme of everything.

  Finally, he nodded. “Okay, Sadie. Grant and I both drove, so I can go back to work, and the two of you can go pick up Pippa. Call Mom and see if she’s up for dinner at home, and if she’s not, then you can go out to dinner wherever. Sound okay?”

  “Yes, perfect. Thank you, Dad.”

  We idled outside Pippa’s house about an hour later. Mom had been napping, so Grant and I had called Pips to invite her out to the Spaghetti Factory. She’d hesitated, and I knew she didn’t want to see me very much, and probably especially not if we had to have our conversation in front of Grant. But since we didn’t have any other options, and since I’d just flown all the way home from Owl Creek to be here for Charlotte, I wasn’t in the backing down mood. We’d work this out, one way or another.

  I knocked on the door, and Pips answered.

  “Ready for some pasta?” I asked.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Pips said.

  “What?”

  “Be all fake happy,” Pips said. “At least be honest, okay?”

  It was like a punch to my stomach. I’d already made things worse. So much for knowing the right thing to say when I needed to say it.

  I swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”

&
nbsp; We went out to the Hummer, and I felt like we were walking to some terrible doom, like our friendship was about to be proclaimed officially dead. As soon as I thought the word, I thought of Cici and Charlotte. No. Neither Pips nor I was dying, not really. We weren’t actually losing each other, and since we weren’t, we had to give it our best shot, to try to work things out.

  Even Grant noticed the quiet and turned up the radio. Fortunately, Spaghetti Factory was close to Pippa’s house.

  After Grant parked and turned off the engine, I asked. “Can Pips and I stay in the car for a minute?”

  “I’ll be right outside,” Grant said, not asking questions.

  I unclicked my seatbelt and went to sit in the seat next to Pippa. Since I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, yet again, I picked at my fingernails, thinking.

  “I don’t know what to say, Sadie,” Pippa said, finally breaking the silence.

  “Sorry, Pips.” I picked at my fingernails. “I didn’t mean to make you talk first. I just can’t figure out how to …”

  Pips nodded and for the first time in a long time, I thought we finally understood one another. At least about this.

  “While I was away last year, I missed you so much, Pips,” I said.

  “I know, I missed you too,” she said.

  “And I guess I thought that when I came home, things would be the same. I didn’t think about how much I had changed, and how much you would have changed.”

  “I don’t think —” Pips began.

  “You’re my best friend, Pips,” I said, quickly. “That hasn’t changed.”

  “But …” Pippa said, hearing what I wasn’t saying too.

  “We can’t expect everything to go back to the way it was before,” I said. “I kept trying to find my old space, the space I used to fit into. But I’m different now, and so are you.”

  “I don’t want things to change,” Pippa said. “I want things to be okay with the girls, and with you too.”

  “For one thing, Pips, you have to stop protecting me. I need to tell the girls what I think about the secret club. I can’t expect you to do that for me.”

  “But I didn’t like how it was with Margo either,” Pips said.