The Light Jar

by Lisa Thompson

  “Nate, are your parents in trouble with the police? Is that why you’re hiding out? Are your mum and dad criminals?” Kitty looked worried.

  “No. It’s nothing like that. I know how it looks, but you’re wrong. Okay?”

  “I don’t believe you,” she said, folding her arms.

  I stood next to her and casually brushed some snow off a little wooden sign that was next to the maze entrance. “It’s complicated. I made the mistake of assuming things about you. Please don’t do the same about me.”

  She looked at me for a bit.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said. And she began to walk away.

  I took a long breath. It was over. She was going to go home and tell her parents about me, and then the police would come, and then someone from social services when they saw I was on my own, and then who knew where I’d end up?

  I looked up at the tall green maze beside me and thought of poor Charlotte, running in there on a freezing New Year’s Eve and not coming out again. I shivered. I glanced down at the brown sign and traced the words with my finger.

  Box. This type of hedge was called a box.

  “Kitty! Wait up!” I yelled, just as she reached the edge of the woods. “Come back! I think I’ve solved the clue!”

  Kitty turned around.

  “I’ve found it!” I yelled. “I’ve found the green box!”

  She didn’t move, so I pointed my finger toward the sign.

  “You’ve got to come and see this!”

  She began to walk toward me and then her walk turned into a run. She joined me, panting, searching around on the floor. “Where? Where is it?”

  I grinned and held my hand up to the maze. “This is your green box.”

  I showed her the sign, and she read it out loud.

  “A labyrinth of box. Genius! He was a genius. A green ‘box’! Of course! I’d never have thought of that,” she said. We both peered in through the overgrown entrance.

  “Have you ever been to the middle of the maze before?” I asked.

  Kitty shook her head. She looked pale, and her lips had turned blue again. She stared at me and blinked a few times, and I could almost see her brain whirling. It was getting dark. In another half an hour it would be so dark we wouldn’t be able to see where we were going.

  More darkness meant another day had passed without any sign of Mum. Maybe she was sitting at home right now. With Gary. Watching TV. My stomach knotted.

  “We need to come back in the morning, Kitty. We can’t risk going in there now.”

  “But Charlotte’s treasure is in there, I know it! Let’s just give it a try and see, shall we? We can always turn back if it looks too complicated.”

  Kitty was jiggling around on the spot. I shook my head, and she rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, okay, you win. We’ll come back first thing tomorrow. And then maybe we’ll finally solve the whole thing. Oh, Nate, it’s so wonderful to have you here to help me. I could never have solved all these riddles on my own.”

  I gave her a weak smile. She wanted to find the treasure in Charlotte’s memory, I got that, and I was pleased I’d been able to help. But she was so obsessed with it, it was also kind of weird.

  We slowly headed back to the woods. Kitty could have turned off toward the house, but she stayed by my side.

  “You must really love your family. To do this for your aunt Charlotte and your dad,” I said.

  “Why, don’t you love yours?”

  I was going to tell her what a great family I had, but I’d had enough of lying.

  “My dad moved out when I was six,” I began.

  “Moved out? But isn’t your dad here? Renovating the cottage with your mum?”

  I sighed. I’d sort of forgotten that bit. Kitty looked puzzled but not angry.

  “No, he’s not here,” I said. “He left us years ago.”

  And as we walked, I told her why.

  Carrie was the reason Dad moved out. If she hadn’t come along he’d still be living with us now, Gary would never have moved into our house and our lives, and I wouldn’t be staying in a freezing cold, abandoned cottage all on my own.

  Carrie lived in New York, but she worked for the same company as Dad and would come for meetings at the London office. That’s how they met. That’s how she stole him from us.

  He told me all about her after we’d gotten home from my school sports day. My team hadn’t won the cup, but I had a heavy gold medal around my neck that I’d been given for being the day’s “Most Enthusiastic Supporter,” which basically meant I’d cheered my friends on and hadn’t booed the other kids.

  Mum hadn’t come to watch that day. She’d said she had an appointment to get her hair cut, which should have warned me that something was up. It was odd for her to arrange to go to the hairdresser on my sports day. I didn’t complain too much though, as Dad was coming, which was a proper treat. He’d cheered and waved at me from the sideline and laughed and joked with the other parents. I didn’t have a clue about the bombshell he was about to drop.

  When we got home Mum was still out, and I’d dived onto the sofa and studied the medal around my neck.

  “You know I love you, don’t you, Nate?”

  I looked up at Dad’s face and I knew then, in that split second, that whatever he was about to say was going to change my life. He was biting his top lip, and his eyes kept darting around the room. He took a deep breath and then began to explain that Carrie, an American, was the love of his life, and that even though he loved Mum, nothing could have prepared him for how he would feel about this new woman.

  I didn’t say anything.

  There had been no arguing, no fighting at home, no signs of anything wrong. I felt a great weight smash me in my stomach, sending me somersaulting out of control into the air.

  I waited to hear what he was going to say next, hoping he’d tell me that it was all just some kind of stupid joke, but he didn’t.

  “I’m getting a transfer from work. I’m moving to New York.”

  It was then that I spoke up. “But I don’t want to live in New York. I want to live here.”

  Dad did a nervous laugh and ruffled my hair, but I glared at him. This was far from funny. “No, buddy, you misunderstood me.”

  Buddy? He never called me buddy. He was turning American in front of my eyes.

  “No, what I mean is I’m going to live in New York with Carrie. I’m going to be just across the Atlantic. How about that?”

  I remember gasping out loud as the full meaning of what he was saying hit me. “What? Without us? Without me?”

  He did that stupid, nervous laugh again. “You can come and stay whenever you like. Won’t that be amazing? And I’ll be back every few months for work. We can spend whole weekends together, and in fact, I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and do you know, I bet you we’ll actually have a much more special time together, as we’ll have planned it properly. How about that?”

  I wanted to push him. I wanted to press my hands against his chest and push him away. “But what about Mum?”

  Dad couldn’t look me in the eyes then. “She’ll come around. It’s all been a bit of a shock, but she knows it’s the right thing to do.”

  I suddenly took a large breath, refilling my shriveled lungs. “The right thing for you, you mean!”

  He put a hand on my arm. “Nate, I can’t help how I feel. I’m sorry, buddy, but you’ll just have to get used to it.”

  My head was pounding and I could feel tears rush to my eyes. I wouldn’t let him see how upset I was, I wouldn’t, so I ran from the room, pelting upstairs as he yelled after me.

  “I’m sorry, Nate. I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s so sad,” said Kitty quietly. “I’m sure your dad didn’t mean to hurt everyone, but it couldn’t have been easy for you.”

  I nodded. She didn’t ask why I’d lied about being in the cottage with both my parents, and I was grateful for that. I’m not sure what I would have said if she had.
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  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her what happened next. Dancing around like one of the tiny snowflakes that were beginning to flutter down around us. I could tell her everything, about Mum meeting Gary, about the monster he became, running away, and her going missing. I could then say that I thought she’d gone back to him. That she’d never really stood up to him and he had some weird power over her. I was just thinking how on earth I would start when we reached William’s Gate leading into the cottage garden. It was dark now, and I needed to get in and get all the lights on.

  “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Kitty said. “We can solve this thing. Together!”

  She gave me a big smile and I nodded. Kitty turned to go, but then came back. Her face looked all serious.

  “Thank you, Nate,” she said. “Thank you for helping.” And then she ran back up the hill toward her crumbling home.

  I opened the iron gate, my stomach churning when I thought about tomorrow. There was something I had been pushing out of my mind along with the worry about my mum. I was scared that if I thought about it too much, I’d completely fall to pieces.

  But there was no escaping it.

  Tomorrow was my twelfth birthday.

  Snow was falling heavily and I could hear my breath and my feet crunching on the frozen ground as I walked across the garden to the cottage. By the back door was the chicken, her eyes half-closed, covered in a light layer of snow. I eased the door open and she stood up, cocked her head from one side to the other, and then jumped over the step and inside. I followed, quickly shutting the door.

  The chicken ruffled her feathers and then strutted around the kitchen, pecking at the odd crumb on the floor. She didn’t look scared at all. I opened the out-of-date crackers, crumbled a couple up in my hand, and made a little pile down in the corner. The chicken did a funny, fast walk to get to them, then stabbed at them with her beak. I filled a cereal bowl with water and placed that next to the crumbs.

  Under the sink was an old washing-up bowl. I took a scarf from a hook by the door and put it in the bottom of the bowl, making a kind of nest.

  “There you go. A little bed for you,” I said, putting it down next to the chicken. “I’ll let you out whenever you want, but for now you can stay here and keep nice and warm.”

  The chicken happily jabbed at the crackers, and I closed the kitchen door so that she couldn’t wander into the rest of the house.

  The living room was freezing, and I knelt in front of the wood stove and raked the ash into a flat surface using the poker. The wood basket only had a few small pieces left and a handful of kindling. I also only had a few cubes of firelighters left, but I decided not to worry about that for now, and I layered the small pieces of kindling over the white cubes and lit a match.

  “You told her about your dad then?”

  I dropped the match into the fire and spun around. Sam was sitting with his legs hanging over the side of the armchair.

  “Do you think you could kind of give me a warning when you’re about to arrive?” I said, holding my hand to my chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  Sam smirked, his yellow glow warming the corner of the room. I shut the door of the stove, and the flames flickered as they caught the kindling.

  “So, your dad went off to America. Then what happened?”

  I sat cross-legged by the fire. “After his talk with me, Dad moved to New York within days. Our family didn’t exist any more. They never admitted it, but it was obvious that the plans for him to move to New York had been sorted out weeks before.”

  “Grown-ups do that kind of thing all the time,” said Sam.

  I nodded. I was always the last to know about anything. Dad leaving, us coming here.

  “After he’d gone, Mum walked around the house in a daze. She’d smile when I came into the room, but her face crumpled when she thought I wasn’t looking. She got really thin too and stopped doing anything around the house. Grandma and Granddad came by when they could and made sure we had enough food in the cupboards and that my school uniform was clean. I overheard them talking to Mum one evening.

  “‘You’ve got to pull yourself together, Fiona. Nate needs his mum. He’s lost his dad, so now it’s time for you to step up to the mark. Get this family back on track!’

  “And after a while, she did.

  “She got herself a job working at a real estate agent’s, and before long we found ourselves back in a routine. She’d make a packed lunch for her and one for me, and we’d both leave the house at the same time each morning, me to school and her off to work. Every day she’d give me a kiss on the top of my head:

  “‘Have a good day, darling.’

  “I used to huff and act as if I didn’t like it when she said that, but inside I was just so pleased to see her happy again. Mum’s real smile was starting to come back.”

  The fire was ready for a bigger log, so I carefully opened the door and placed one on top of the burning kindling. I was getting good at it now.

  “And what about your dad? Did you keep in touch?” asked Sam.

  I closed the wood stove’s door. “He used to call twice a week. He’d promise he’d visit, but then he’d say that he was too busy. They’d bought a new apartment that they were having renovated, so he’d say he was coming, but then he couldn’t because their new kitchen was being fitted or they were choosing a sofa or something. As if I cared.”

  Sam’s glow dimmed. “Haven’t you seen him since?”

  “Yes. He came back about a year later. He looked so different. He had this silly little beard on his chin that looked like it had been stuck on. He took me out for burgers and chips, but I refused to eat anything and told him his beard looked stupid. He pretended not to be hurt, but I could see it had upset him.

  “‘How’s your mum doing?’ he asked. ‘I hear she’s seeing someone else?’

  “Mum had met Gary by then. She must have mentioned it to him. Gary designed websites for a living, and she’d been introduced to him through work. I’d noticed she did a lot more singing and a lot more looking in the mirror.

  “‘She’s fine,’ I told Dad. ‘Gary is great. He does loads with me, and we go out together all the time. To be honest with you, he’s like a proper dad.’

  “Dad’s face fell. I knew I’d hurt him, but I didn’t care. From then on, every time I spoke to him on the phone or wrote him an email, I told him how amazing Gary was and how I really didn’t miss him at all. But I did. I missed him terribly.”

  I watched the fire glowing orange as the log began to burn.

  “I don’t know why I said that to Dad.”

  I looked up, but Sam was gone.

  I put on every light in the cottage, then headed to the kitchen to check on the chicken. The cracker crumbs had all gone, and she was sitting on top of the scarf in her washing-up bowl. She put her head on one side and watched me for a moment, then her head sunk into her neck and she shut her eyes. It felt nice being able to help her out of the cold, even if she was just a chicken.

  When I went back into the front room, Sam was standing by the fire. He looked taller. It was like he was waiting to tell me something. I sat on the sofa, pulling my legs up. I felt tingling in the tips of my fingers and toes. Something was about to happen—I could feel it. And then, without saying a word, Sam waved his hand just like he had before and the wall began to evaporate.

  “Whoa … How … How do you do that?” I asked, blinking at the shimmering space that was beginning to form before me. The picture started to come into focus. I could see a crowd of people, and then they blurred and suddenly we were looking at a boy wearing a cream baseball cap with a B on the front, a shiny blue shirt, and cream shorts. He had a baseball gripped in his left hand, and he was staring right at me. He gave a subtle nod of his head, then pulled his arm back, and whoosh … the ball was coming right at me. I ducked to the side and hid my head in the sofa cushion, but nothing happened. When I sat up the image had pulled back to reveal a huge baseball fiel
d. It was a hot summer’s day and a game was in full swing as Sam began to talk …

  “Charlie was the best pitcher the Boxton Blues had ever had. EVER. The rest of the team didn’t take baseball that seriously, but Charlie? Well, Charlie was outside every night after school, practicing his pitches over and over and over again. He was so dedicated.”

  My jaw hung open as I watched the kids running around the field, dust flying beneath their feet. Charlie, the pitcher in the middle, threw another ball, and there was a crack as the bat hit the ball and sent it rocketing upward. Everyone stood and stared as it soared up and up and up until it paused, then began to plummet back down toward the ground. Charlie threw his baseball cap on the ground and pelted across the field, diving to the earth and sliding along in the dust to catch the ball in one outstretched hand. The crowd went crazy.

  “Awesome,” I said, glancing at Sam. He moved his hand and the image blurred and began to change. This time the space was smaller. Charlie was there again, this time in jeans and T-shirt, and he now appeared to be in a back garden. He had another baseball in his hand, and he was staring at a silver tin can that had been placed on top of a fence post. Beside Charlie was another boy dressed in a bright green baseball uniform. He was slapping his hands together and talking in Charlie’s ear as if he was encouraging him. There was something I recognized about the boy. He had a green glow, just like the imaginary friend before, Meena, had a purple one and like Sam had a yellow one.

  I watched as Charlie eyeballed the can, and then WHAM! He threw the ball, and the can somersaulted into the air and fell onto the ground with a clatter. The other boy whooped and clapped his hands together.

  “Is that … Is that Charlie’s imaginary … friend?” I asked, pointing to the boy in green.

  “Yep. That’s Dexter. He’s good. Really good. His dedication is unbelievable. He spent hours with Charlie, practicing his pitching. But things … Things didn’t work out so well for Charlie in this case …”