A Clatter of Jars

by Lisa Graff

  Hannah.

  “I already know what Talent I got,” Hannah announced, marching center stage. “It’s Gracie’s Talent for lie-detecting.” From the front row, Gracie let out an excited cheer. “Someone say something, and I’ll tell you if it’s true or not.”

  “My favorite cheese is bleu!” cried a boy named Alfie.

  “Lie!” Hannah shot back, with hardly a moment’s debate.

  “Yep!” Alfie seemed delighted to be caught in a fib. “My favorite’s really ricotta.”

  “Don’t you miss it?” Max said quietly. It took Lily a moment to realize he was speaking to her.

  “Being a Pinnacle?” she asked. Around and around she twisted the yarn at her thumb. “Not really.”

  She missed it. It was like a hunger, almost, inside her. Aching. Gnawing.

  “Not at all.”

  Up on the stage, Jo made a mark on her clipboard. “Amazing,” she told Hannah. “Next!”

  “This dress rehearsal stinks!” someone called from the audience. It was the large kid, Hal. “When are we going to switch our Talents back?” All through breakfast, which Chef Sheldon had served inside the lodge while Jo continued to help everyone “rehearse,” Hal had complained loudly about receiving Liam’s Aroma Talent.

  “Soon enough,” Jo told him. She flipped her harmonica end over end. Lily felt a pang in her chest every time she caught sight of the instrument. “Chuck needs a little more rest. In the meantime, shall we continue on, hmmm?”

  “That’s a lie,” Hannah said. “About Ch—” But Jo was already ushering her down the stage steps.

  Lily was certain that Jo was looking for a specific Talent. But what could she do with it, now that the Talent in her harmonica had been Coaxed aw—?

  It was in that moment that Lily spied Chuck out the window, making her way across the mess deck toward the back kitchen door.

  “Fine,” Jo was saying to Teagan up on the stage. “The children can eat lunch. Is it really nearly noon already?” And while Teagan was herding campers into a line behind the kitchen window, Lily snuck past them and ducked out the back kitchen door. She met Chuck on the deck, and tugged her cabinmate beneath a table.

  “You can’t go in there,” Lily hissed.

  “What? Why?” Droplets of water beaded from Chuck’s cornrows onto the shoulders of her Camp Atropos T-shirt. “Nurse Bonnie said I was supposed to come as fast as I could. Am I in trouble?”

  “Jo wants to use your Talent to steal someone else’s,” Lily told her. She was sure of it.

  “Whose?”

  “I don’t know,” Lily admitted. “But we have to get you out of here.”

  Before they could make their way down the steps, Lily spied a shadow of movement—Chef Sheldon, crossing the mess deck to the dirt below, letting the back kitchen door swing shut behind him. “This way.” Lily jerked Chuck back across the deck to the kitchen door, and they slid inside unnoticed.

  Through the frosted window that separated the kitchen from the lodge, Lily could make out silhouettes of campers waiting in line for Chef Sheldon’s return. But the kitchen, at least, was empty.

  And then the door was flung open.

  “There you are!”

  Lily’s skin prickled with fright, until she saw who had entered the kitchen.

  “Where have you been, Chuck?” Ellie said, hands on her hips. The door swung shut behind her. “Were you hiding from me again?”

  “I wasn’t hiding,” Chuck growled. “I was swimming in the lake.” Something flitted through Lily’s mind then. An orange-flavored memory, something about the lake. But she couldn’t fully taste it. “How’d you even know I was in here?”

  “The frog told me,” Ellie replied.

  That’s when Lily noticed the frog squatting at Ellie’s heel. He was the same one that had led her to the pier the night before. Bright green on top and white at the throat, with bulby pads at the ends of his toes.

  Hdup-hdup! went the frog.

  “You cannot,” Chuck told her twin, “talk to frogs.”

  “I can talk to frogs,” Ellie snapped back. “You can, too, Chuck, always could, whenever you Coaxed away my Talent. See?” And she reached out and grabbed Chuck’s hand.

  A look passed between the twins then. A look of confusion, maybe. Or concern.

  “It . . .,” Chuck said. “It’s not . . . working.”

  There were footsteps on the mess deck.

  Lily grabbed Chuck with one hand and Ellie with the other, and dragged them both to the large metal cabinets under the sink. She swept aside the cleaning supplies as quickly as she could and drew them all inside.

  Just before she closed the cabinet doors, the frog hopped inside with them.

  Renny

  WHEN RENNY WOKE ON MILES’S BUNK THAT AFTERNOON, hot and clammy, his fingers were still fidgeting. He pressed his palms into the mattress.

  And then he noticed the sniffling.

  Renny shot up so quickly that he smacked his head into the bunk above him.

  “Renny?”

  “Miles!” Renny shouted, hoisting himself onto the top bunk to join his brother.

  Miles was coiled in a tight ball. He turned his face to Renny. “Hi,” he said. And then he smiled, as though it were any normal summer afternoon.

  “Hi,” Renny answered, pulling his brother upright for a hug. Miles fell into his arms like a rag doll. “You were up here all night?”

  “You did a nice thing for me,” Miles said. “So I did a nice thing for you.” He pointed to the shelf beside Renny’s bed.

  Renny laughed. “That must be every Caramel Crème bar the store had.” The candy was stacked one on top of another on top of another.

  “I want to eat one,” Miles told him.

  “Sure thing.” Renny pulled two candy bars off the shelf, handing one to Miles. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until that moment. He couldn’t believe Miles had been in their cabin the whole time, while he’d searched and worried. “But you hate top bunks,” he told Miles, as though continuing a previous conversation. He hadn’t even thought to check the top bunk. “How did—?” And then he realized. “You used Nolan’s climbing Talent.”

  “Yeah.” Ripping the candy bar wrapper apart with his teeth, Miles peered off the edge of the bunk, then jerked his body back to the wall. “Only Nolan didn’t have a Talent for climbing back down.”

  “I’ll help you get down,” Renny told him. “You can hold my hand if you want.”

  Miles nodded in between chews.

  The Caramel Crème bar was delicious. Silky caramel, smooth chocolate. Renny had never actually tried one before, because Miles always got to them first. It was hard to believe that the company was going to stop making them soon.

  “Maybe Mom and Dad should invest in these,” Renny said as he chewed. “I think”—he let out a snort—“I think we should tell them not to invest in Camp Atropos.” Miles didn’t laugh at Renny’s joke, but Miles never laughed at Renny’s jokes. Sometimes it seemed like Miles was in a world of his own, and it didn’t matter what Renny said to him at all.

  But sometimes it did.

  “Miles?”

  Miles looked up, still chewing.

  “I’m sorry,” Renny told his brother.

  Miles crumpled his empty wrapper. “I want another Caramel Crème bar,” he replied.

  Renny reached for the shelf. “I thought you said you got them for me,” he teased. And then he blinked. “Why’d you say I did something nice?” Renny could think of plenty rotten things he’d done lately, but no nice ones. “I didn’t do anything nice.”

  “You threw the Talent away for me,” Miles replied, ripping open his second candy bar.

  At first Renny didn’t understand what Miles meant, because the orange-juice memory had been tugged from his mind. But then the tendrils
that remained filled in the holes. “You got the memory,” he said, amazed.

  “Yep.” Miles wolfed down his second Caramel Crème bar.

  Renny settled back against the bunk’s railing, his hands fidgeting ever so slightly as he shared a quiet moment with his brother.

  He didn’t think to wonder why it was so quiet.

  Lily

  IT WAS DARK IN THE CABINET. DARK AND STUFFY. LILY didn’t know how long they hid. Three hours. Four. Outside in the lodge, the campers ate lunch. Chuck’s stomach growled. The faintest sounds of Jo's rehearsal started up again, and Lily wiggled her toes inside her shoes. The frog, nearly black in the dim light that seeped between the cabinet doors, puffed silently in Ellie’s palm, as though it understood it shouldn’t make a peep.

  Around and around Lily wound the yarn at her thumb.

  As though being stuffed in a cabinet weren’t terrible enough, Lily had to listen to Chef Sheldon’s trusty assistant babbling as she helped prepare dinner.

  “I just don’t understand what Lily was thinking,” Hannah said, “putting her Talent into an Artifact like that. And lying. Why would she lie about the accident? Max is really upset.”

  Just at the moment when Lily thought she couldn’t stand another word, she heard the door to the mess deck creak open again.

  “Where have you been?” Chef Sheldon asked, as someone stepped inside. “Jo’s been going nuts, asking about you.” Lily pressed Chuck and Ellie aside to peek between the cabinet doors.

  “Jo said to be back by noon,” Del replied. “I just went for a dip in the lake. It was so nice out, and . . . What?”

  “It’s almost six o’clock,” Hannah told him.

  Del rubbed the top of his head. “I must’ve lost track of time. Oh, goodness, I lost the letter, too, somewhere. Jo’s gonna kill me.”

  “I thought you got Molly’s Talent for time-telling,” Chef Sheldon said, his voice laced with confusion.

  That’s when the orange-juice-flavored tendrils filled in the holes of Lily’s memory.

  Renny had thrown something in the lake last night. A jar, with a Talent bracelet inside.

  Del had gone swimming, and now he couldn’t tell time.

  Chuck had gone swimming, and now . . .

  In the dark of the cabinet, Lily reached out to Chuck, asking a question with a squeeze of her hand.

  “It’s not working,” Chuck whispered. “I can’t Coax anything.”

  “The lake,” Lily breathed. She dropped Chuck’s hand.

  When she was positive the coast was clear, Lily nudged open the cabinet door, then crawled out and closed it on the twins and the frog behind her. She tiptoed from the kitchen.

  With everyone still “rehearsing”—although they were losing patience, Lily could tell by the decibel of little Alfie’s whining—Lily reached the far end of the lodge undetected. She picked the phone off the wall outside Jo’s office and dialed quickly.

  “Dad!” Lily squeaked, the moment she heard his voice. When she realized she’d reached his voice mail, her heart sank. She twisted the length of yarn around her thumb. “Dad,” she said again, “you have to come get me and Max. I know you’re traveling, but we need your help. It’s important. The lake, something happened to the lake. This boy, Renny, dumped something in it, and now it’s Coaxing away everyone’s Talents. Dad, our camp director is danger— Hello? Hello?”

  The line had gone dead.

  With worried breaths, Lily turned around.

  There, looming above her, with a single finger on the phone box, was none other than Jo Mallory. “Why, Liliana,” she said, smiling down at her, “I really ought to thank you.” Jo patted her front sweater pocket, where Lily knew the harmonica with her own Coaxed Talent lay inside. “You’ve just solved so many of my problems.”

  Jo

  TIME WAS RUNNING OUT.

  “That’s it, there you go,” Jo told the tiniest camper, Alfie, handing him a cup of punch. “Into the canoe. Del will help you. Lovely. Squeeze in, children!”

  Del frowned at her as a girl named Sarah climbed in behind Alfie. “The safety warning says only three to a canoe,” he said.

  Jo ignored him, handing another boy, Max, a cup of punch. It was nearly impossible to be suspicious of a person, Jo figured, who handed you something delicious. After replacing the moose head on the lodge wall, Jo had floated every pitcher outside behind her with the help of a little harmonica music. “Max, your crutches can go under the seat right there. Del, help Max, will you?” When Del had pushed that canoe out into the water, Jo turned to the next camper in line. “Hannah! You can sit up front. This punch is delicious, by the way. Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome,” Hannah said, her long blond hair swishing behind her. “Can I get a life jacket, please? I can’t—”

  “That’s it, watch your step.”

  “Are you sure we need to do this drill now?” Del went on, when Hannah’s canoe was safely afloat. Far out on the lake, Lily kept standing to holler at the others, but the splashing of paddles drowned out her words. “It’s so late,” Del continued, “and the kids never got an actual dress rehearsal in. The Talent show’s tomorrow, yesterday was pretty rough on everyone, and the sun’s going to set any—”

  Jo’s look silenced him for good. “Have some punch, Tessa. There you go, in the canoe. I love your necklace, by the way. Did you make that in arts and crafts?”

  Time was running out.

  With Chuck missing and no inkling where the Recollecting Talent might have landed, Jo’s only hope was that Lily had been right about the lake Coaxing Talents. If it was true, then come sunset, Jo suspected there would be a whole new stash of jars washing in with the tide. Only this time, the jars wouldn’t hold Mimics of Talents. This time they’d hold the Talents themselves.

  It was only a hunch. A single shred of hope. But with Jenny arriving in one short day, it was the last shred Jo had.

  The sun was nearly touching the water when Jo pushed the final canoe into the lake, the water bursting with every camper and counselor Camp Atropos had.

  (Well, every camper except four, but Jo didn’t know that.)

  “Paddle, darlings!” Jo hollered, eyeing the distance between the sun and the water. “A little farther! Great job!” Toes to hair. They’d all need to be dunked toes to hair. “Alfie, why don’t you let Wendy paddle? She’s much faster.” Lily kept rising in her canoe, a speck in the distance, to shout at the others. But Jo had ways of stopping such things.

  “Paddle, Lily!” she instructed, and then she drew the harmonica to her lips, and played. Across the water, Jo heard the satisfying slap! as Lily’s backside smacked the canoe seat.

  Jo missed the Talent that Grandma Esther’s harmonica had once granted her, but this new Talent was very useful.

  “Keep paddling!”

  The sky blazed fiery orange nearest the water, edging into watermelon pink farther up, then, at its height, a deep blackberry. Jo knew that it was now or never. Her gaze fixed on the most distant canoe, Jo lifted the harmonica to her lips again.

  Los golpes en la vida . . .

  Splash!

  The canoe flipped easily.

  Preparan nuestros corazones . . .

  Splash!

  Another canoe tipped, pitching campers into the lake.

  Como el fuego . . .

  Splash!

  And another.

  Forja al acero . . .

  Splash!

  And another.

  The black lake churned with splashing and shrieking and swimming.

  And still Jo kept playing.

  Chuck

  CHUCK KICKED THE CABINET OPEN WITH HER KELLY-green high-tops, scrambling into the brightness. Ellie and the frog climbed out behind her.

  In the distance, Chuck heard a splash. Then another, and another. Through th
e window, Chuck saw dozens of canoes tipping into the water, with more capsizing every second. And orchestrating everything—a dot on the shore—was Jo, playing the harmonica with Lily’s Talent inside.

  The Talent that Chuck had Coaxed inside.

  What can I do? Chuck wondered. And, perhaps out of habit, she grabbed Ellie’s hand.

  She felt nothing. No icy spark.

  That’s when Ellie said softly, “I still have my Talent.”

  Chuck wanted to roll her eyes. She wanted to sigh and say, Identifying frogs? Ellie, please.

  But she didn’t. Instead she puffed up her chest, so the two little words she was about to say would have more force behind them.

  “I’m sorry,” Chuck told her sister. “I’m sorry I said you were boring, before.”

  Even though there was nothing to share, Ellie squeezed Chuck’s hand. Chuck squeezed back.

  Hdup-hdup! went the frog at their feet.

  Ellie released Chuck’s hand, squatting down to meet the frog. With her palms flat on the ground and her legs bent at sharp angles, she looked quite a bit like a frog herself.

  “He says there’s something in Jo’s office that might help,” Ellie said, tilting her head back to Chuck. “Under the”—Hdup-hdup! went the frog—“under the filing cabinet.”

  Chuck’s eyeballs bulged. “Ellie,” she said. “You really can talk to frogs.”

  Her sister pulled herself back up to her full height. “I told you,” she replied.

  Hdup-hdup! went the frog.

  • • •

  There was, in fact, something underneath the filing cabinet in Jo’s office. Chuck found it easily, picking her way past the smashed shelves and the broken radio, the scattered shards of glass. She squirmed onto her belly and stretched her arm far under the cabinet, and there it was.

  A jar. Sample-size, no larger than a Ping-Pong ball, with the words Darlington Peanut Butter embossed on the bottom. Nestled inside was a bracelet woven from green embroidery thread.