Saskia glanced at Lila, who gave her a noncommittal look. “The last bad thing?” she repeated. “I guess it’s that I stole something. Well, borrowed it—long-term.”
“This better not be a library book,” Sara Beth muttered.
“No.”
“So what was it?”
“A daguerreotype.”
“A duh-garro-what?”
“It’s an old photograph. Like, from the 1800s.”
Paige looked like she was about to yawn.
“But it’s just not just any old photograph,” Saskia insisted. “It’s got power.”
“What kind of power?” Sara Beth said, pronouncing the word power like she was sucking on a lemon.
Saskia glanced at Lila, who shrugged. Her friend still didn’t believe her meetings with Cornelius were real.
“Okay, let me explain,” Saskia said. “I was studying this guy, Robert Cornelius, for a class. He’s really fascinating. An inventor. Pioneer. Lighting entrepreneur. Kind of hot, too,” she added bashfully. “Anyhow, Lila mentioned that her library actually has a daguerreotype of him, and I wanted to see it. So we went to where she works and took out the picture. We touched liquid mercury, too, just randomly; it’s one of the chemicals used to make daguerreotypes. Afterward, when I got home and fell asleep, something weird happened. Really weird. I was able to enter Cornelius’s lighting shop. I saw everything in detail—individual crystals in the chandeliers, shiny bronze statues . . . I could smell things, too: cigar smoke and peppermint and whale oil. It was as if I was standing right there. I’ve never had a dream so realistic.”
“So what happened next?” Paige asked, no longer looking bored.
Saskia took a deep breath. “I saw him—Cornelius. He was talking to an older guy, a colleague or something. He was talking about a new lamp he’d invented, a solar lamp, and how it was gonna change the world. Later on, after I woke up, I googled ‘solar lamp’ and realized it was the exact same thing Cornelius had been holding. But before that night, I’d never even heard of a solar lamp, so there was no way I could have dreamed about it! Same with smelling whale oil—I’ve never smelled it in my life, and yet I did that night. I’m sure of it.”
“Interesting . . .” Paige said, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Go on.”
“Well, I actually talked to him—Cornelius. I heard his exact voice; it’s low and kind of gravelly. I saw every little detail of his old-fashioned suit. We talked, but only for a minute. I woke up after that, and I realized—I knew—that what had just happened was no dream. It was like, well, an alternate reality.”
By now she had the full attention of Paige, Sara Beth, and Adrienne. They began to pepper her with questions.
Sara Beth pulled out her phone and googled Cornelius’s image. “He’s cute,” she remarked. “A little old, though.”
“Not very,” said Saskia. “He looks younger in person—and in color.”
Paige giggled, causing Saskia to laugh, too. She was thrilled that the girls were interested. She hadn’t expected them to believe her, much less to care.
“Do you consider this guy your boyfriend?” Adrienne wanted to know.
“Like, my dead boyfriend?” Saskia asked flatly.
Sara Beth squealed excitedly. “Oh my god, your dead boyfriend. That’s the best kind of boyfriend! Think about it: he can never cheat, or lie, or be jealous, or . . .”
“. . . Have sex,” Paige added dryly.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s possible,” Saskia said, blushing.
Sara Beth took a swig from one of the champagne bottles. “I love this idea: a secret dead boyfriend.”
“It’s kind of morbid and twisted, but I like it, too,” Paige admitted.
“Do you see Cornelius every night?” Adrienne asked Saskia.
“Almost. I need to touch liquid mercury first and then hold the daguerreotype. But then, somehow . . . it just happens.”
“Let me ask you something,” Paige said, snatching the champagne bottle from her sister. “Is it even remotely possible that you’re dreaming—like, even one percent possible?”
Saskia sighed. She desperately wanted them to believe her. “Listen, I couldn’t make this up on my own. When I go to that other place, it’s so detailed. So exact. Sometimes it feels more real than my real life.”
“So you’re sure it’s actually happening?”
“Yes.”
“Are you still interested in regular guys now that you’ve met Cornelius?” Paige asked.
“Regular guys—like, living guys?”
“Yeah, like guys at school.”
Saskia, uneasy, looked down. “I—I guess not.”
“Can you take us there?” Sara Beth asked breathlessly. “To the library? I wanna see these daguero—whatevers.”
“Can’t. Be. Done,” Lila retorted, rapping her knuckles on the floor with each word for emphasis. “What Saskia left out is that no one besides employees are supposed to be there.”
“But you snuck her in,” Sara Beth said, pointing at Saskia.
“She’s one person. You’re three.”
“Come on. I wanna see if there are other guys like Cornelius for us.”
“You realize these are photographs . . .”
“Not just any photographs,” Sara Beth corrected. “Magic photographs.”
Lila stared at her confrontationally, then turned to Paige, looking for an ally.
“I have to admit, I want to see the daguerreotypes, too,” Paige said.
Sara Beth put her hands together and begged, “Please, Lila!”
“I can’t help you,” Lila said firmly.
Saskia realized something in that moment. Seeing the sisters’ fervor, their desire for something out of reach, she felt a pang of satisfaction. Surprisingly, she had something that they didn’t. She knew she was being petty, but still, she relished the power.
“Can you convince Lila?” Paige whispered, looking at her.
Saskia laughed, thinking, I can try.
CHAPTER EIGHT
On the ride home, Saskia still felt tipsy. She leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. The motion of the car made her feel like she was flying, winging through space, heading to parts unknown.
It had been a perfect evening, the best time she’d had since arriving in Coventon. She’d felt as if she belonged, laughing and acting silly with a bunch of friends. Not that Lila wasn’t great. She was. But there was something about a group—all of them together, hanging out, Paige, Sara Beth, and Adrienne—that made Saskia forget about Josh and her mom, that made her feel normal again . . . or almost normal.
“Hey,” Saskia said, the buzz of alcohol a low humming in her brain. “What did you think about tonight?”
“I don’t know.”
“Really?” Saskia had assumed Lila felt like she did—euphoric.
“Yeah, those girls just live in a different world. Their own world.”
“You mean, ’cause they’re so rich?”
“That’s part of it.”
“What’s the other part?”
“I can’t put my finger on any one thing,” Lila said. “The drinking, Sara Beth and her camp counselor, that stuff about their parents, all of it—it just feels off.”
“Well, I had a great time.”
Lila looked at her askance. “Okay, I guess.”
“Not everyone makes a great first impression,” Saskia said, wishing Lila hadn’t put a damper on her mood.
“You did.”
Saskia did a double take. “I did?”
“Yeah; why else do you think I’m hanging out with you?”
“Should I be flattered or annoyed?” asked Saskia, laughing.
“You decide.”
“Um, after all that champagne, I can’t decide anything.”
&
nbsp; Lila laughed, too, but she looked a little nervous. “Okay, Miss Brown, that’s my cue to get you home.”
Less than twenty-four hours later, in a parking lot on the campus of Western State Connecticut, the tables had turned. Lila was now the one who couldn’t make up her mind. “I still can’t believe we’re here. I’m such a sucker.”
“You’re not,” Saskia insisted.
“I am.”
“We can still turn around . . .” Saskia said unconvincingly.
“You’ll kill me if we do.”
“I will.”
Lila resignedly turned off the Buick’s ignition and switched off the headlights. “Remind me why I’m doing this?”
“Because you’re a nice person,” said Saskia.
Lila shook her head. “I’m not that nice.”
“Because you’re generous?”
“Nope. I’m just a sucker.”
“Hey,” Saskia said, grabbing Lila’s wrist excitedly. “Look, they’re here!”
But Lila couldn’t have missed the sisters’ midnight-blue Mercedes as it slid smoothly into the parking spot beside her battered Buick. The two cars were an automotive version of Beauty and the Beast.
“Wonderful,” she murmured cynically.
All the girls exited the cars and giddily followed Lila. Strolling through the college walkways, Saskia felt a palpable excitement. The air seemed charged. Twilight had turned the sky into a candy confection of orange, yellow, and pink. It was the kind of sky you only saw once or twice a year. The kind of sky under which anything could happen.
Inside the library, Lila told them that her boss, Marlene, was at a work conference. She wasn’t expected back until tomorrow. Saskia knew Rich would be there, of course. But she also knew Lila could count on Rich not to rat them out.
“What’s going on?” he asked Lila when all five of them appeared. “Are you multiplying?”
“Rich, these are my friends. You remember Saskia, and this is Paige, Sara Beth, and Adrienne.”
Paige and Adrienne beamed. Sara Beth curtsied.
Rich gave them a tight, cautious look. Addressing Lila, he said, “You realize this is not a sorority house.”
“Really?” Lila said. “I could have sworn . . .”
“Jesus. You’re a good kid, and I like you. But not enough to get my ass handed to me.”
“Marlene would never touch your ass.”
“It’s true, but you don’t need to rub it in.”
“She’s still in Boston, right?”
“She’s been known to come back early. You know that.” Rich stared pointedly at Lila.
“Listen,” Lila said, “if she does come back—not that she will—I’ll take the fall. Promise.”
“It’s not like I’ll be off the hook. What kind of security guard lets in”—he paused to count with his finger—“five teenage girls?”
“Is there anything we can do,” Sara Beth interjected, “to make you feel better?” She leaned forward, smiling coyly and giving Rich a look that was at once sweet and provocative. Saskia wondered where she’d learned to act like that, so mature, so sassy and brazen, like Rita Hayworth in Gilda.
Rich looked at her blankly.
“Something that maybe would make you feel better,” Sara Beth persisted.
Rich shook his head. He looked away from Sara Beth like she was a nuclear bomb about to detonate, and again addressed Lila. “Assuming Marlene doesn’t come back, and assuming you girls aren’t gonna burn this place down, and assuming this is a one-time deal and you never speak of it ever in your lifetimes, I’ll let you in. Once.”
“Richard Anderson, I owe you,” Lila told him. Ruefully, he waved them through, ignoring the kiss Sara Beth blew in his direction.
Saskia didn’t feel as nervous as she had the first time she’d set foot in the Howard and Alice Steerkemp Daguerreotypes Collection room. Though it had the same clinical atmosphere, she was no longer cowed by the starkness, or by the immense filing cabinets. She’d been here with Lila two times now; it was familiar, their territory.
Lila explained how daguerreotypes were stored and arranged, and the parts of each one, including the case, mat, glass, and preserver. She showed everyone how to handle them—gently, cautiously. The girls listened, but Saskia knew they’d rather bypass the specifics and get straight to searching. They all wanted their own Cornelius.
Reluctantly, Lila set them loose. The girls were quiet and subdued as they sifted through the images. Paige did so methodically, row by row, careful not to skip any. Sara Beth proceeded randomly, picking out specimens willy-nilly. And Adrienne had stopped searching altogether. She was gazing—transfixed—at the very first daguerreotype she’d selected.
“He’s the one,” she said to no one in particular.
“Who is?” Paige asked, gathering her hair in a loose ponytail.
“This guy.”
Paige stood next to her and examined the image in Adrienne’s hands. “Is there any information about him?” she asked.
“No.”
“That’s what the Internet’s for,” Sara Beth piped up. She was still sorting, her lips pursed in concentration.
“There’s no name. Nothing,” said Adrienne.
“But you can see he’s in uniform,” said Paige. “He’s a soldier.”
Adrienne peered closer, squinting. “Oh . . . right.”
“Had to be the Civil War,” added Saskia, gazing at the man. “Daguerreotypes were popular then.”
“So the question is,” asked Paige, “was he fighting for the North or the South?”
“I wonder if he died in battle,” said Adrienne, her voice both exhilarated and horrified.
The girls were silent for a moment, and then Paige said, “Guys were different then, weren’t they? More mature, more worldly. They wanted to make a mark, take a stand. They risked their lives for what they believed in. What do guys do now? Play video games and chase girls. There’s no comparison.”
“That’s true,” Adrienne agreed. “You know, this was the very first daguerreotype I picked. It’s almost like fate that I found it, don’t you think?”
“It was meant to be,” Lila said sarcastically. “Obviously.”
“Don’t make fun of me! Isn’t that why we’re here—to pick one? A boy? Well, this one’s my choice.”
“Oh no. I let you come so you could look at the daguerreotypes, not claim them.”
“But I have a feeling about this one,” Adrienne insisted. “A gut feeling. Did you feel that way about Cornelius, Saskia?”
Both Lila and Adrienne stared at her expectantly. Saskia shrugged, knowing she couldn’t please both of them.
“It doesn’t matter,” Adrienne continued. “There are some things you just can’t explain. I don’t know why I feel a connection with this guy, but I do.”
Saskia saw that Adrienne was clutching the daguerreotype with the same tenacity that she sometimes clutched Cornelius’s.
“That’s two out of five,” Paige said.
“What?” Lila asked.
“Looks like two of us have found dead boyfriends, and three of us are still looking.”
Saskia listened for sarcasm in Paige’s voice. She looked for a hint of a smirk on Paige’s lips. But there was only sincerity. Saskia didn’t know how or when or why, but the idea of finding a dead boyfriend seemed to have gone from a tongue-in-cheek proposition to real aspiration.
“You’re really looking for someone?” she asked Paige.
“I wouldn’t be against it. I mean, if what you said is true—that we can really meet these guys—then maybe we should try.”
“But I don’t know if everyone can do it.”
“Why not?”
Saskia struggled to find the right words. “I don’t understand how it works. I think I understand the method
: the mercury and all that, but I don’t get the logistics of it. All I know is that once I’m sleeping, I’m able to see Cornelius. I’m transported, somehow, to his time and place.”
“If you can do it, then I’m sure the rest of us can.”
“I hope so.”
“It’s got to work,” Paige said firmly. “I’m ready for a change. Yesterday Josh called me—he wanted to see me again. And I thought, Do I really want to get back together with him for the billionth time? It’s the same roller coaster ride. He wants me back, and then he changes his mind. I can’t keep doing it. Isn’t there a quote? ‘Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.’ That’s me and Josh.”
“Hallelujah!” said Sara Beth. “My lectures are finally sinking in.”
Paige ignored her and said to Saskia, “So how do I do it? I pick a photo and you show me how to meet him?”
“I . . . I guess so.”
“The moment has to be unforgettable,” Adrienne interjected. “Like how I clicked with this boy.”
“You mean, how you clicked with his picture,” Lila said irritably.
“Whatever. The point is, you have to feel a connection. You have to feel it here and here.” Adrienne touched her heart and her head dramatically.
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” said Lila.
“That’s only because you haven’t found the right person.”
“And I’m not going to,” Lila retorted. “You guys can do this raise-the-dead, hocus-pocus voodoo crap all you want, but I’m not getting involved.”
“You already are,” Paige told her. “You’re here, aren’t you? You let us in. That means some part of you must believe.”
Saskia expected another sassy reply, but Lila seemed all out of sarcasm. “Just hurry up,” she admonished. “We can’t spend all night here. Rich has to lock up.”
Paige nodded. “You heard her. Let’s get moving,” she urged. “Our Forever Boyfriends are waiting.”
Forever Boyfriends?
Again, Saskia listened for a joking tone, a touch of irony. But as Paige resumed sorting through the daguerreotypes, her brow furrowed in concentration, Saskia realized she was a hundred percent sincere.
Mercury Boys Page 10
