The Light Jar

by Lisa Thompson

  “Come on, Nate! It’s your birthday! Dance!”

  I gave her a smile and took a deep breath. She was right. It was my birthday! I shrugged and then I went for it. I jumped about and sang the words as loudly as I could. Everyone began whooping and clapping around me, and I danced and danced until I could barely breathe. I hopped onto the sofa, and everyone cheered as I pogoed up and down, laughing. Some of the others joined me, and someone climbed onto the armchair and did some sort of weird break dancing. We danced and we danced until I was sweating and out of breath. The music grew louder and louder until it slowed right down. Sounds of violins and a piano filled the room, and all of the friends slowed and swayed gently until the music came to a steady end with the words …

  “Mr. Blue Sky … y …”

  I stopped and looked around me, breathless and silent. Then they all erupted into cheers.

  “Happy birthday, Nate! You are the best!”

  I nodded and smiled and took a bow, turning around in a slow circle. As I did I spotted a boy standing on his own in the corner. He was a lot younger than the rest of them, and he was wearing gray and chewing on the cuff of his sweater. His eyes were fixed on the floor. Sam was standing beside me.

  “Who’s he?” I asked.

  “That’s Arthur,” said Sam.

  “Why is he so … pale? Why isn’t he in color like the rest of you?”

  Sam looked sad.

  “He didn’t complete his time as an imaginary.”

  I watched Arthur looking uncomfortable.

  “What do you mean?” I said.

  “Most of our real friends just stop seeing us one day, once they’ve reached the right age. It’s almost as if they’ve forgotten we were there in the first place and they just don’t need us any more. For Arthur, and for some of the others, it’s different.”

  I watched as the pale gray boy looked nervously around the room. “What do you mean, different?”

  Sam thought for a moment. I could tell he was finding it hard to talk about, and he was trying to find the right words.

  “Sometimes it can’t be helped. Sometimes your life as an imaginary friend comes to an abrupt ending that is out of anyone’s control.”

  I swallowed. “How do you mean?”

  Sam leaned closer toward me.

  “If your friend dies,” he whispered. I hugged myself tightly.

  I looked back at the fading boy. He sniffed, then wiped his nose on his sleeve and stared straight at me through his bangs. He looked so sad.

  “What happens to him now?” I said.

  Sam shrugged. “He’s supposed to find another friend, but he refuses. He doesn’t want to let go of his responsibilities to his old one. He needs to let go first. Then he can move on.”

  I wanted to go over and talk to him, but a boy in a suit the shade of a tropical ocean jumped in my way. “Nate! Nate! Read to us from your Freaky Things book!” he said.

  “Yes, go on, Nate!” called a girl by the fire. Everyone parted and made room for me as I walked toward the sofa. My Freaky Things book was lying on the floor, the pages bent back on themselves.

  “Tell us one of your best freaky facts. Are there any about birds? I love birds,” said a girl in an outfit the color of rubies. She sat down on the floor, waiting.

  “And make it a funny one!” shouted Dexter from across the room.

  I picked up the book and straightened the creased pages as I looked at the eager faces around me—all apart from Arthur, who was still standing in his gray corner. I hesitated as I watched to see if he was going to join in, but he didn’t move, so I sat down and began.

  “Right, okay … Let me see,” I said as I flicked through the book. “I think I know the exact one.”

  I found the page I wanted, and then I cleared my throat and began.

  “In Papua New Guinea there lives a bird of extreme rarity. This bird of paradise is called the resplendent iris bird, and it is the only species in existence to …”

  I paused for comic effect.

  “… have multicolored poos.”

  The entire room gasped.

  “Scientists believe that this colorful poo occurs because of the bird’s bright plumage.”

  I grinned and turned the book around so they could see the illustration of a bird covered in feathers of every color imaginable. It had its head cocked to one side, and next to it was a pile of brightly colored poo. There was a second of silence, and then the whole room erupted into fits of laughter.

  “Look! It’s made a pile of rainbow!” squealed a boy in pastel peach, clutching his stomach.

  “That is amazing,” said a girl in dark emerald green. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  I grinned as everyone crowded around me, trying to take a look at my book. The only one who didn’t move was the boy in gray, his face pale against his washed-out sweater. He hung back in the corner, looking over now and then as if he wanted to join in but couldn’t. I gave him a smile, and he quickly looked away.

  “Let’s get some more music on!” shouted Dexter, and everyone cheered. A steady drum began to thud, and I shimmied my shoulders left and right in time to the beat. The imaginary friends around me did the same, watching me for the next move. I was leading some kind of bizarre group dance. I laughed as I spun around and they all did the same, trying to keep up with me as the music swirled around us. We laughed and we jumped and we kicked, but as the song came to an end I noticed some of the friends began to fade. I spun around and around, and when I got back to the middle there were fewer friends. Eventually all of the colors in the room evaporated and it was back to its dark, dull self. I stood panting in the middle of the room. I was all alone again.

  After everyone had gone I felt so empty.

  I curled up on the sofa and squeezed my eyes shut. I wondered what would happen if I just stayed here. I’d let the sofa slowly swallow me up, becoming just another lump among its many bulges and springs. They’d find me in a few weeks, I imagined. Maybe they’d interview Kitty and she’d tell the police how she took me on a treasure hunt around the grounds of her mansion.

  I screwed my eyes tighter, and then I heard a noise coming from the kitchen. I looked up as Kitty walked in, horror on her face. “You do realize there’s a chicken in here, don’t you?” she said.

  “I—I thought it … I just thought she might have been cold out there in this weather, so …”

  Kitty raised her eyebrows. She was acting strange, looking around the room suspiciously.

  “Were you singing just now?” she said, folding her arms. “I thought I could hear someone singing?”

  I looked at her and shook my head, and she stared back at me.

  “Nate, you’re on your own here, aren’t you?”

  I could feel my throat tense. I’m pretty sure she’d guessed a while ago, but it was still hard to admit it.

  “No. My parents are just out … They’ll be back soon … I just …”

  “Nate, you said your parents aren’t together anymore. There’s no need to make stuff up. Not to me anyway. Are you on your own?”

  I hung my head and closed my eyes and I nodded.

  She bit her lip, her face frowning as she thought about it, and then she suddenly clapped her hands together. “Right, you get the fire going, and I’ll see what I can find for breakfast. That chicken of yours has laid a couple of eggs by the back door, so you could boil them up, maybe?”

  She turned back to the kitchen without waiting for an answer. I curled up on the sofa again and began to cry. Silently at first, but then the tears came really fast and I couldn’t stop. I hugged myself and I sobbed until my stomach hurt. I wanted to tell her it was my birthday today, that I was all alone and that I’d thought my mum was missing but now I was sure she’d gone back to her boyfriend. Her nasty, angry, horrible boyfriend. But I couldn’t say any of those things, so I just cried.

  “You lighting that fire yet?” called Kitty from the kitchen. “Come on. We’ve got the m
aze to solve today. And you need to eat something first.”

  I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and pushed myself up, and then I knelt down beside the fire and opened the little glass door.

  We sat at the dining table, and I ate my boiled egg. I’d found an eggcup in the back of the cupboard that was in the shape of an astronaut’s suit—the egg made it look like it had a head and a helmet. I smashed the top with a little spoon and ate the warm, runny yolk in silence. I didn’t know how long it would be before she told someone that I was here on my own. An hour? A day? I kept glancing at her, trying to work out what was going through her head, but she was just absorbed in studying the map of the house and the grounds. If she told the authorities, then someone would come and get me and naturally they’d just take me back to my address. To Gary. They’d probably assume that Mum and Gary had had an argument and that she had gone off in a huff and had left me uncared for. Or maybe Gary had tracked Mum down and was keeping her prisoner at home. Or maybe they were there together and they’d say they didn’t want me? I couldn’t think about that. It was too painful.

  “Look! This map shows how the maze is built,” said Kitty, and she held up the plans. Because they were from an aerial position, they showed exactly which way we needed to go to get to the middle.

  “It might not be any good now though. It’s so overgrown. But we should take that with us anyway,” I said.

  I finished my egg and folded up the large plans the best I could, with the maze part at the front so I didn’t have to unfold the whole thing again.

  Kitty hadn’t mentioned me being on my own anymore, but I was waiting for it. I tried a distraction. “Did you have a cook at home?”

  Kitty blinked at me for a moment and then nodded.

  “We used to. Mrs. Kemp—that was the cook—but she’s been gone for a while now. Years. They all have.”

  “All?” I said. “Did you have lots of people working there?”

  Kitty nodded and smiled. “Oh yes, there was a groom, housekeepers, William the gardener of course, and a chauffeur. There were fresh flowers delivered every Friday. They’d be put in a great big vase on the table in the entrance hall so that when guests came, they’d be the first thing seen.”

  She stood up.

  “Right. You’d better get dressed. We’ve got a maze to solve!”

  I headed to the stairs and she called after me.

  “And put on some extra layers. The snow is really thick out there.”

  I looked out the window beside the front door. She was right, a few more centimeters must have fallen overnight; you couldn’t see the road at all. Everywhere looked so pretty and unspoiled. It would be the first white birthday I’d ever had. And the first without my mum.

  I found some old shopping bags in a kitchen drawer and put them over my sneakers so that my feet didn’t get wet in the snow. I felt like an idiot and they were a bit slippery to walk in, but I couldn’t imagine we’d bump into anyone. And if we did, plastic bags on my feet were the least of my problems.

  We walked through the wood in silence, apart from my rustling feet. It was odd that Kitty hadn’t mentioned me being on my own. It was as if she wasn’t shocked at all, or maybe she just didn’t care? Either way I decided I should probably say something.

  “Look, I just want to say it’s no big deal about me being here on my own. I’m just waiting … for my mum to come back. Okay? She just had to go and … do some stuff … But no one can know I’m here.”

  Kitty shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I said. I was expecting her to say more. “Seriously. If anyone knows I’m here, then it could be bad for me. Really, really bad.”

  Kitty looked worried for a minute. I knew I was asking a lot from her, to keep quiet about this.

  “One of your shopping bags is coming off,” she said, nodding her head down toward my feet.

  I quickly tucked the bag back into my sock as she walked on. I could probably trust her not to say anything straightaway—after all, she needed me to help solve the treasure hunt—but I didn’t think she’d keep it a secret for too long.

  We came to the entrance of the maze, and Kitty took a deep breath.

  “Right. Let’s look at the map,” I said, getting the folded plans out of my pocket. I studied the route.

  “It looks like we have to turn right first, and then it’s just a matter of counting the paths and taking the third one and then the second one and then the first one, then back to the third. I think that’s right.”

  “Great,” she said, and she grinned, putting her satchel over her head and across her body.

  “You ready?”

  I nodded.

  “Right! Let’s go and find this treasure!” she said.

  She pulled her hat a little lower, then brushed past the branches and disappeared into the maze. I pushed in behind her and made my way along the overgrown, narrow tunnel. The branches scratched at my face, and I came to the end and looked left and right. Kitty was nowhere to be seen. Had she rushed off alone? What was I supposed to do? Go on without her? I stood there for a moment, and then her pale face appeared through the shrubbery.

  “This way!” she said and she turned right.

  I pulled a twig out of my ear and folded my arms, tucking my hands away so they didn’t get scratched, and then followed her.

  We counted each path, took a left, then counted two and turned right.

  “So, we need to take the first path next. Is that right?” I said, looking at the map again.

  Kitty nodded, but she looked just as confused as me. We carried on, but then we came to a sort of crossroads. It was hard to tell because it was so overgrown. I looked at the map again, but I couldn’t work out where we were.

  “Let’s just go straight on,” she said and headed forward. I followed behind her as she twisted and turned through the maze, barely looking up.

  “Hang on, Kitty. Aren’t we just going in circles? We must have gone wrong somewhere.”

  I rubbed my forehead.

  “Where now?” she said.

  “Hold on, I’m thinking.”

  I looked behind us at the mass of green branches, then looked ahead and left and right and then back at the map. Everything seemed the same. I had no idea.

  “I think we should go back the way we came and take a different path,” I said.

  We turned around and went back. I looked up and could see that it was starting to snow again, a few flakes managing to get through the thick greenery. We got back to a crossroads and this time we headed off in a different direction.

  “Have you decided what you are going to do when you’ve found the treasure?” I asked.

  Kitty smiled. “I don’t know. It’s exciting though, isn’t it? I wonder what it’ll be! I bet it’s something special, for Charlotte.”

  “Your dad will be pleased. Have you told him you’re doing this? That you’ve been trying to solve the treasure hunt.”

  Kitty shook her head. “No, he doesn’t know.”

  She turned left and then immediately took a path to the right.

  “And what if it’s nothing? What if there is no treasure, Kitty? What will you do?”

  She frowned and then snickered.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course there is going to be something.” She laughed. “Can you imagine going to all this trouble just for there not to be anything at the end of it? I mean, what a waste of time that would be! No, there’s going to be something, and it’s going to be big. William has left something a-maze-ing, I just know it. Get it? A-maze-ing?” She laughed again.

  “Yeah, Kitty. I get it,” I said. I was about to say something about her being prepared, in case she was wrong, but I could see the hope in her face, so I kept quiet. I’d be leaving soon, and I had no idea how things were going to go for me. I just hoped things would work out for her.

  We twisted and turned and doubled back on ourselves two more times before we finally emerged into a square, open clearing.

  �
�Is this it? Are we in the middle?” I said. We seemed to have reached it more by accident than planning.

  “It must be,” said Kitty as she walked out into the thicker snow. In the center was a low concrete column. Kitty ran over and brushed the snow away using her arm.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Is it a sundial?”

  I looked at the concrete plinth. It looked familiar. In fact, the center of the maze looked familiar.

  “I don’t think it’s a sundial. Look, it’s completely flat.”

  The top of the column was covered with a metal plate, and inscribed in it were lots of lines and dots. Some of the dots were tiny and some were larger circles. I suddenly recognized some of the shapes.

  “It’s a celestial map!” I said.

  “A what?” said Kitty, studying the tiny bumps.

  “A celestial map. A map of the stars. Look, there’s Cassiopeia, and that’s Taurus.” I traced the dots with my finger. “This is a map of all the major star constellations.”

  “You know about everything, don’t you?!”

  I shrugged, but it was all because of my book, Freaky Things. There were four whole pages dedicated to star constellations, and I’d learned them all and compared them to the night sky. I knew I was right.

  Lines joined the dots together, showing the constellations’ shapes. Kitty crouched over and studied it.

  “Let me read the riddle again,” I said. “There was something about being up on high, wasn’t there?”

  Kitty quickly took the clue out of her coat pocket.

  “A huntsman bright am I, I watch from up on high. By day I can’t be seen, you’ll find me boxed in green.”

  “Yes! This is starting to make sense now!” I said, but Kitty still looked blank.