She hoped to catch Lila at her locker, or between periods, but didn’t see her until lunch. By then she was so eager to hear what Lila had to say, she couldn’t think about anything else. She practically ran to the cafeteria.
Lila took a seat across from her at what had become their usual table. Saskia watched her tear into a slice of pepperoni pizza. “Spill,” she said.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
Saskia hadn’t had time to pack a lunch, and she’d forgotten to bring any money. No matter. She wasn’t hungry for food, just for information.
Lack of appetite: another symptom of mercury poisoning?
“So . . . a fever dream—what is it?” Saskia asked.
Lila swallowed. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. A dream caused by a fever. An intense, crazy dream.”
“But I didn’t have a fever.”
“You texted you woke up sweaty. That must be because your fever broke. It’s happened to me before.”
“You’ve had a fever dream?”
Lila nodded and took a sip of chocolate milk.
“You don’t think the dream had anything to do with the mercury?”
“It’s just a coincidence.”
Saskia shot her a disbelieving look.
“Look, I know how you feel,” Lila continued. “Fever dreams can be freaky—and scary.”
“But it wasn’t scary. The end was the only bad part. The rest was kind of . . . nice.”
Saskia explained about the lights in the store and the way Cornelius had come out to greet her. Lila listened carefully, poking at her fruit cup. Saskia noticed she didn’t like pineapple, either.
“Here’s what I think,” Lila said. “I think you’re stressed. Maybe a little sick, too—thus the fever. The dream was your body’s way of letting go of some of that.”
“Lila . . .”
“Seriously. You need to chill. You’re fixating on Robert Cornelius because something else is bothering you. Something you don’t want to deal with.”
“What are you, a psychiatrist?”
“That’s what I want to be,” Lila replied.
“Okay, Dr. Defensor. You think my problem is stress. But just pretend it isn’t. Isn’t it possible that the mercury did it? I read it can be absorbed through the skin.”
“I touched it more than you did, and I’m fine.”
“Different people react in different ways.”
“You’re reaching.”
Saskia closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she asked the question she really wanted to ask. “There’s a third possibility. For the dream, I mean. Maybe somehow—and I know it sounds crazy—maybe I really did meet Robert Cornelius.”
Lila snorted.
“No, really,” Saskia insisted. “I’m not saying it happened. I’m just saying it might have happened.”
“You might have met his ghost?”
“No, not his ghost. Him. I might have met him. Somehow.”
“So you visited the nineteenth century in your sleep?”
Saskia shook her head. “I know it sounds wacko.”
“You need to get out more. That’s all there is to it. This weekend, I’ll take you out. Maybe that will make you forget about Robert Cornelius.”
Saskia looked down at the table. Graffiti was scribbled on the laminate surface: Tanya loves Marcus. Mr. Havensack sucks. Beware P and S. The Patriots are #1! Coventon is for loosers!
“Lila?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you for a favor?”
“Depends.”
“Can we go back to the library? Tonight? I want to see the daguerreotype one last time.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Just one more time, I swear.”
“You’re fixating.”
“I need closure.”
“You need closure,” Lila repeated, adjusting her red glasses. “That’s good. Very good. When I open my psychiatry practice, you can be my partner.”
Saskia had to beg—by text and phone and email—but Lila finally relented.
“If it were anyone but you, I wouldn’t do it,” Lila said. She glanced at Saskia with uncharacteristic bashfulness.
“Thanks. I owe you.”
Both girls agreed 9 p.m. would be the best time. They would get their homework finished, then head to the library. Saskia imagined Lila tucked away somewhere in her crowded, noisy house, diligently working out problems for her AP science classes. Saskia, meanwhile, wasted hours reading up on daguerreotypes, chemical elements, the history of mercury, and American life in the second half of the nineteenth century.
This is a Pass/Fail class. This is a Pass/Fail class. This is a Pass/Fail class.
She had no excuse. Lila was right: she was fixating.
When Lila came at nine sharp, Saskia still hadn’t finished up her other work. She was too giddy and revved up to care, though.
“Better pray Marlene’s not there,” Lila said when they got into the car.
“I keep picturing her as this big ugly dragon. Breathing fire.”
“Put her in a navy suit and pantyhose, and you’re not far off.”
When they got to the Howard and Alice Steerkemp Daguerreotypes Collection, Rich eyed Saskia apprehensively. “Again?” he asked Lila.
“The gorgon’s not here, right?”
“Doesn’t mean she’s not gonna show up.”
Lila avoided his gaze. “We’ll take our chances.”
Inside the Collection room, Lila walked a fine line between nervous and paranoid.
“If Marlene suddenly walks in, you’re a student, not a friend. Understand?”
“I go to college here?” Saskia asked.
“Yes.”
“Score. Can I pick whatever major I want?”
Lila ignored the question and handed over Cornelius’s daguerreotype. She chewed on her nails as Saskia lifted the tattered cover.
Arms crossed over his chest, Robert Cornelius stared at the girls, and they stared back. Once again, Saskia was struck by the urgency of his gaze. She still had the sense he was trying to convey something, a question or an answer, an idea that was just out of reach. She held the image at various angles. Different versions of Cornelius, some shadowy and vague, others bathed in light. Different versions of the same man, depending on the perspective. She lifted the glass cover, hoping to feel things she couldn’t see, but Lila reached out to stop her.
“Don’t smudge it. I wouldn’t put it past Marlene to check for fingerprints.”
It was more painful this time to give the daguerreotype back. Saskia actually grimaced when Lila slid it back into its box. “My project is due next week,” she said. “That’s only a few days away.”
Still holding the box, Lila glanced at her.
“I’m getting a lot of information online. But Wikipedia is nothing like the real thing. The primary source.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I know I asked before. And I know you could get in trouble. But please, please let me take the picture home. Just for a few days. Until my report’s done. I swear I’ll give it back.” Saskia clasped her hands into a tight knot.
“You cannot ask me this.”
“I know. I’m sorry! But . . . I am. I’m asking you this.”
“It’s stress. I’m telling you, you need to stop thinking about Cornelius.”
“You don’t understand,” Saskia said. “So much has happened lately. It’s been hard: new school, new town. My dad’s been having a rough time, and my mom’s driving me insane, even though she’s twenty-five hundred miles away. You are literally my only friend here. The photo—well, it’s like an escape . . . a little vacation from real life.”
She paused, feeling a twinge of shame. Or maybe it was
guilt. She knew she shouldn’t lay on this sob story. It wasn’t fair to Lila. But she wasn’t lying, either.
“Everyone has problems,” Lila replied.
“Sure, but not everyone’s mom is dating a twenty-four-year-old substitute teacher.”
“Really?”
“Oh, it gets better. She met him while he was teaching at my high school. She picked him up like freakin’ Mrs. Robinson.”
“Who’s Mrs. Robinson?”
“You know, from The Graduate? The movie?”
Lila shrugged. “Never heard of it.”
“Doesn’t matter. The point is, she’s twice his age. It’s nauseating.”
Lila was quiet for several seconds. Staring at Saskia, she seemed to weigh her options. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said at last, her expression softening. “Seriously, I could get in big trouble. Huge.”
“I’ll be so, so careful with it.”
“You’d better be.”
“And I’ll return it the minute I’m done . . .”
“The second.”
“Promise. As soon as my presentation’s over.”
“Crap. Okay.” Lila put the daguerreotype in Saskia’s hand and returned the empty box to the cabinet. “Hide it in your shorts, and don’t say a word.”
“Lila, you’re the best!”
In response, Lila gave her a sidelong look, a warning not to screw up. “Follow me,” she ordered.
Saskia knew they had to pass two checkpoints: Rich and the guard at the library exit. She figured passing Rich would be a breeze; he wasn’t apt to hold anything against Lila.
But maybe their worry showed—on their faces or in their body language. His brow knitted when they said they were leaving. “Short visit tonight,” he remarked.
“We still have to finish one of our assignments,” said Lila.
Saskia watched her friend fidget with the drawstring cord of her hoodie. Saskia wanted to grab her hand and keep it still.
“What’s wrong?” Rich asked.
“What?”
“You look like somebody stole your candy bar.”
“I’m just tired,” Lila muttered.
“You girls haven’t been up to anything, have ya?”
Lila kept on fidgeting. She glanced meaningfully at Saskia. Saskia ignored her and explained, “We’re in exam period. It’s nerve-racking. If we get a bad grade, our GPAs drop, and then no college, no job, no future. Basically, this week determines the rest of our lives . . .”
“Uh-huh.” Rich didn’t sound the least bit convinced.
“We’re borrowing one,” Lila piped suddenly. “One daguerreotype.”
Saskia stared at her in disbelief.
“I’ll bring it back in a little bit,” Lila went on. “This is just a loan. I know Marlene would be pissed, but what’s the harm? I’ll be careful. We’ll make sure—”
“Why you looking for trouble?” Rich interrupted, rubbing his temples.
“We’re not looking for trouble,” Saskia replied.
His eyes darted between the two girls, settling on Lila. “You know better than this.”
She hung her head, becoming a little smaller. “It’s just this once.”
“I don’t hear you. I don’t see you.”
Lila looked like she wanted to say more, but Saskia pulled on her hand, practically dragging her through the turns and twists of the library. Somewhere along the way, Lila recovered her wits. By the time they got to the guard, she was calm again. They opened their bags for him to inspect. He looked through the contents briskly, then waved them through.
Outside, in the warm early summer air, Saskia felt light and free, happier than she’d been in weeks. She wanted to share her joy, but Lila’s expression was grim.
“I couldn’t lie to him,” she said.
“That’s obvious.”
“I put him in a bad position.”
Saskia exhaled. “No, I put him in a bad position. And I put you in one, too. But it’s going to be fine. Like you said, it’s a loan. Nobody’s gonna get caught.”
She was trying to reassure Lila, but she wasn’t having much success. Lila’s attention had shifted to the sky. It was a clear night, and a few stars sparkled, like Marilyn Monroe’s diamonds in Some Like It Hot. But Saskia could tell Lila wasn’t looking at those. Her friend was gazing at the college bell tower, the highest point of the campus skyline. Saskia looked at it, too, thinking that the spire at the top looked sharp enough to draw blood.
CHAPTER FOUR
When Saskia got into bed, she held the daguerreotype against her chest. The old dream still played in her memory. She had no trouble conjuring Robert Cornelius’s face, his voice, his searching eyes. She hoped if she fell asleep with him on her mind, he’d be in another dream.
She wanted to be back in the lighting store. She wanted a second chance to talk to him. This time, she swore, she wouldn’t stammer or run away. She’d stand tall and straight, like she used to, and ask him about his inventions, his discoveries, his life. Everything.
But morning came, and when she awoke, she knew she hadn’t seen him. Disappointment washed over her, followed by jolting anxiety. It occurred to her she might never see him again. She could take the daguerreotype to bed every night, but there was no guarantee Cornelius would ever reappear. She couldn’t just will it to happen. Pulling the daguerreotype from between the sheets, she stared at it for a moment. She wished she weren’t so attached—
“Fifteen-minute warning,” her father yelled through the door.
Ugh. The dreaded fifteen-minute warning. Saskia hated trying to shower, brush her teeth, dress, eat breakfast, find her backpack, and get out the door in such a short time. But she hated the sound of the bus driver honking even more. With a groan, she climbed out of bed, wishing she could delay her depressing reality a little longer.
In class Saskia felt tired, dazed, and slightly nauseous. She didn’t bother trying to concentrate on what her teachers were saying. She was lost in her own thoughts, all of which seemed to involve Cornelius. She tried to get the original dream out of her head, but it was persistent, monopolizing, inescapable.
She would give anything for a second dream if only to shut out the first.
In English Literature, the teacher, Mrs. Jude, went around collecting the latest assignment: a two-pager on truth and justice in Pride and Prejudice. Saskia hadn’t even started it yet. It was just one more thing she’d neglected.
“Not an auspicious start for you, Miss Brown,” Mrs. Jude commented.
Saskia ducked her head and stared at the ikat pattern on Mrs. Jude’s dress. Back in Arizona, Saskia would have gladly written the paper. She’d always done her homework on time and to the best of her ability.
Lately, though, she couldn’t remember why she’d cared so much. She knew she was in a downward spiral, but she didn’t care about that, either. She was descending willingly.
Saskia took the daguerreotype to bed again that night. Same routine: daguerreotype close to her body, mind orbiting Robert Cornelius like a satellite. Revved up and nervous, she popped a Benadryl. She figured the sooner she got to sleep, the better her chances of seeing him. But once again, morning yielded no reward.
As the days passed, she moved through life increasingly desperate and distracted. More homework piled up. More teachers made disparaging remarks. Besides Lila and her dad, Saskia pretty much ignored everyone, including her mom. Especially her mom. Saskia disregarded the half dozen messages her mom had left.
But she couldn’t disregard her father when he finally confronted her in the kitchen.
“Call her now,” he said sternly, handing her his cell phone. “Before she flies up here and yells at us in person.”
Saskia grimaced. There were only so many excuses she could make. Her father could be tough when he wanted to be.
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After the fourth ring, it seemed like her call would go to voicemail. A stroke of luck. But her mother answered on the fifth. “Sweetheart, I’ve missed you so much. Where have you been?”
Saskia tried to ignore the nauseous feeling that had lately become habitual. “Connecticut.”
“You know what I meant. Why haven’t you called me back?”
“I’ve been busy, Ma.”
“How’s school? What’s it like there? Is it anywhere as hot there as it is here?”
Saskia had always hated her mother’s rapid-fire questions, a spillover from her job as a litigation attorney. Saskia also hated the way her mother masked seriousness with a chirpy voice. “The weather’s fine.”
“Saskia, please, would it kill you to elaborate?”
She paused. “I don’t know what you want me to say. How great it is here? Okay, it’s great. The birds are singing. The sun is shining. Sometimes the whole town breaks into song.”
“Saskia . . .” She could hear her mother’s exasperation. “Listen to me. Nothing is set in stone. You can come back to Arizona, you know. Ralph and I would love it if you lived with us.”
“Ralph and you would love it,” Saskia echoed.
“Yes.”
“But I wouldn’t love it. I wouldn’t love living with Ralph.”
Her mother sighed. “Look, this is hard—it’s hard for everyone—but you have to at least try. This is reality now. Ralph is in my life. And yes, it will take some getting used to. But I think you’ll come to see it’s for the best.”
“Funny, that’s what I was just telling Dad. That it’s for the best.” She glanced at her father and rolled her eyes.
He wagged his finger. Be good, he mouthed.
“Saskia, please try to understand,” her mother said. “I deserve happiness, too.”
“Well you’ve definitely prioritized that.”
“I know you just got there, but it’s not too late. You can still come back to your friends. Your life. I spoke with your principal. You’re welcome anytime.”
“How about Ralph? Did the principal welcome him back?”
“Saskia, Ralph’s an adult. A consenting adult in a relationship with another consenting adult. He never had a problem professionally.”
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