Riley stirred. “Mama?”
“I’m here, baby.”
“Where did you go?”
“I had to take care of a few things, remember?”
“You were looking for Quinn, weren’t you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“I was thinking about this morning and how you said that Quinn had to go to school early. But she never leaves without telling me. And when I woke up, she wasn’t here. She wouldn’t do that, mama. Something is wrong, and you don’t want to tell me.”
Jane sighed. “I’m just trying to protect you, Riley. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything like this. You’re just a child.”
“Do you ever wonder why Quinn and I get along so much better than you and I? She doesn’t treat me like a kid. She knows better. I understand a lot more than you think I do.”
“I’m not saying that you can’t understand. I just don’t know what’s wrong, or if anything is wrong. What I do know is that no matter what happens, I’m helpless. I can’t change anything or fix anything or—”
“Mom, if Quinn is missing, there’s a reason. She’s always here. Every doctor’s appointment. Every trip to the hospital. She doesn’t even skip baths or bedtime stories. She’s there for me. Always.”
“Sometimes people just want to be alone for a while.”
“No one wants to be alone. Not really. They just get tired of people needing them. That’s what Quinn told me. Isn’t that why you disappear into your room most nights?”
Jane fought back tears.
Riley’s face softened. She pulled the blanket tighter around her body, changing the subject. “I’m so cold, mama. Why do they keep these rooms so cold?”
“Let me go ask for another blanket.”
Riley nodded.
Jane left the room, scanning the nurses’ desk for Wendy, but she saw no one. Too anxious to linger, she began to wander the halls, peering in on patients and into open supply rooms. All the nurses were either busy or hiding. She wanted to ask Wendy more about Riley’s fall and the contusion on her head. As she searched, she came across a closet with various bed linens. She decided to take a heavy blanket for Riley. No sense waiting for a nurse to get one later, after all. Walking back to Riley’s room, she caught sight of Wendy slipping a jacket over her scrubs at the far end of the hall. Before Jane could speak, the nurse pushed open the large, wooden doors and disappeared into the main hospital. Jane was too late.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Quinn and Meelie took turns slamming the stick into the sharks when they passed too close. Pidge was still swimming, though they couldn’t be sure if they were headed toward shore or farther out to sea. Quinn had worried that Pidge would be easy prey for the sharks, but they must have been deterred by the frantic beating of her wings on the water’s surface, because they rarely came close. Meelie had taken the brunt of their curiosity, and she shoved several away just as they bared their teeth for an exploratory bite. Her fear had startled Quinn initially, and Quinn realized that she hadn’t thought much about how death worked in the other realm. Since no one aged, she had assumed that people simply didn’t die. She had been foolhardy in her quest for the heart flower, stupidly believing that she was invincible here. To Quinn’s credit, Meelie couldn’t remember if she had seen anyone buried since coming to the other realm.
“They’re trying to wear us down, get us too tired to fight back!” Quinn shouted.
“The plan is working!” Meelie panted, handing Quinn the pole.
The two rotated so that Meelie faced Pidge and Quinn faced out into the open water. They were more vulnerable to the front and counted on Pidge to keep the sharks at bay when they circled around. Quinn noticed that the sharks moved in a distinct pattern, and a different shark went in for a bite each time the group circled. They worked as a pack, taking turns and gliding through the water at a slow pace in order to conserve energy. If Quinn and Meelie had been working to stay afloat, they’d have long since gone under. Luckily, Pidge was pulling them along quickly enough to stay above water without expending much energy. When Pidge tired out, they would be an easy meal for the sharks.
“Meelie, do you see that?” Quinn yelled, pointing to her left.
Meelie spun around long enough to glimpse a towering shadow against the horizon. “What is that? A boat?”
“Sure looks like one,” Quinn answered, relieved.
“I hope so! This hen is slowing down. We won’t last much longer on our own.”
Quinn turned just in time to see one of the sharks move in on Pidge. As soon as the shark closed in, Pidge moved her head up and down against the water like a piston, driving her beak into the shark’s back.
“That thing has more fight than I thought!” Quinn exclaimed.
She turned back toward the shadow she’d seen. This time the object was close enough to be sure: a large clipper ship was headed straight for them.
Quinn began to wave the stick through the air and shout, trying to signal the captain. Meelie joined in. Even Pidge began to squawk loudly. The three were making such a big ruckus that the sharks dropped back, widening their circle.
“Look at that! They’re skittish!” Unlike the sharks Quinn had seen on television, these seemed scared of loud noise and big movements. “They must be true scavengers, not used to prey fighting back!”
Encouraged, the pair whooped and yelled even louder, smacking the waves with both hands. They were surrounded by white froth. The ominous, green fins grew smaller and smaller, until Quinn could scarcely find them between the waves.
The ship continued to head straight for them. Quinn guessed that the vessel was about a mile away now, too far to hear them yell. Day was approaching quickly, but the light was still too faint for them to be seen. They had to do something to get the boat’s attention.
“Meelie, let me see your flight goggles,” she said. “I’m going to try to catch a little light. Hopefully someone on that ship notices before they pass us by.”
Meelie handed her the goggles.
“I’m plumb out of rope, bunny.”
Quinn began to untie the piece holding them together.
“Are you sure about this? If we get separated by even a few yards—”
“We have to try, Meelie!”
Quinn fastened the goggles to the pole as tightly as she could, then held the contraption up out of the water, testing various angles until the glass lenses caught a bit of light. The task would have been much easier if the other realm had a definitive sun; without one, Quinn was forced to bend and turn the goggles constantly. Rather than a bright flash of light, she was making an indigo ripple that seemed to hover just above them.
The boat was closing in quickly, and the trio began to make as much noise as possible. They waved their arms in wide semicircles, sometimes prodding Pidge to make her squawk when their throats began to ache. They still couldn’t tell if anyone on board was standing watch, or if the captain had taken notice of their position, but the ship maintained its heading. They’d either be rescued or run over.
* * *
“Meelie, I think that’s Aimee at the wheel!”
Meelie followed her gaze.
“I think you’re right! Sure looks like she upgraded from that old dinghy!”
“Hey! Help!”
“Ahoy there!”
“Please!”
The two yelled until their tongues swelled and their throats burned.
“Meelie, Quinn—is that you?”
Quinn recognized the voice immediately.
“I knew that boat had to be you, Aimee!”
“What in the world are you two doing out here?”
“That’s a long story, old friend, and one I’d be glad to share if you can help us aboard!”
“Of course!”
Aimee moved swiftly to slow the ship, casting a wide net off the side. Meelie and Quinn swam toward the ship, pulling Pidge behind them.
“I don’t think we’re going to get
Pidge to swim onto this net, Quinn!”
Quinn nodded, then disappeared beneath the water. She gripped one end of the net with both hands and kicked her feet hard against the surface. She dove deeper, the net still in her hands, until she was sure she was clear of Pidge’s feet, then swam away from the boat. When she resurfaced, she tugged on the net until every strand was taut. Pidge wasn’t perfectly in the center, but Quinn had given enough space on each side for Aimee to scoop them up.
“How do you plan to get us out of the water?” Meelie shouted toward Aimee. “Anybody else up there?”
“No. Just me. Hang on!”
Aimee tossed them one end of a long rope.
“See if you can loop that through the corners of the net!”
Quinn swam around the net, weaving the end of the rope as Aimee had instructed. Once she had looped in all four corners, she swam close to the ship. The deck was too high for Quinn to throw Aimee the rope, so she tied the end to her pole and held the pole as far out of the water as she could. Aimee leaned over the edge, straining to grasp the pole, but she couldn’t quite reach. Meelie swam over, dove under, then pushed Quinn up out of the water.
“There we are!”
“Now that’s teamwork,” Quinn grinned.
Aimee disappeared from view.
“Okay,” she called, still out of sight, “I’m going to haul the net up. Get a good grip!”
Quinn and Meelie did as they were told, locking their arms and legs around the edge of the net. They watched as the four corners of the net lifted out of the water, closing in until the net looked like a teardrop. Pidge flailed inside, squished between the sides. Slowly, the three rose out of the water until they were high enough to see Aimee. She had used one of the masts and the ship’s wheel as a makeshift pulley.
“Okay. We’re out of the water. Now how do we get to the ship?” Meelie yelled.
Aimee scratched her head. “Oh, I’ve got an idea!” She ran below deck. Quinn could hear metal clanging and objects being tossed about. A few minutes later, Aimee emerged with a small anchor and another piece of rope.
“I’m going to hook the top of the net and then pull you in!”
“Banana oil!” Meelie shouted.
Quinn’s face drained of color. “And what if you miss?”
“Never got anywhere without a little risk, right?” Aimee chuckled.
Meelie and Quinn looked at each other, then back at the anchor. They closed their eyes and braced for the worst. They felt a hard jolt, then a swinging sensation. Quinn opened one eye just enough to see the net rocking back and forth like a pendulum. She followed the motion to the top of the net. Aimee had hooked them on the first try.
“She got us, Meelie!”
Meelie warily opened her eyes and looked up, then let out a long breath.
Once aboard the ship, they freed Pidge from the net. She immediately took off running in circles around the deck, so Meelie tied her to one of the masts while Quinn relayed the night’s adventure to Aimee. When she finished, she was in tears. Their one hope, their one clue, had vanished into the night. They had no way of knowing where the butterflies were going, or if they’d even find a heart flower there, but she had to do something.
Absentmindedly, she pulled the teleidoscope Martha had given her from her pocket and put the lens to her eye. She half-expected to see Meelie and Pidge bouncing through the desert; instead, Quinn was startled by bright, white light. She winced and squinted, searching the accosting glow for any shapes or flecks of color. As her eyes adjusted, she saw what looked like a curtain, then a bed. Three figures: the smallest was lying down in the bed while another bent over her; the third figure was seated beneath the curtains. The standing figure moved one arm and the scene dimmed enough for Quinn to see the room clearly. Riley was back in the hospital, and she was stuck in the middle of an ocean a world away.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Riley woke up famished, so Jane had gone on a quest for something more digestible than the powdered eggs and gummy meat the hospital offered. While she was gone, Riley rummaged through Quinn’s backpack, which her mother must have brought in with her. She didn’t know why her mother needed Quinn’s backpack, but there was nothing else to do in the room, so she figured a little snooping wouldn’t hurt. There were a number of loose pages, a binder, and several books on Amelia Earhart. Quinn must have been using them for her research.
She pulled one of the books from the backpack and began to read. Riley had always been an advanced reader, probably because she’d been listening to Quinn’s bedtime stories for most of her life. Reading was one of the few things Riley was allowed to do in the hospital, so she pushed for her mother to teach her when she was just three years old. Now she was at least three grade levels ahead of the other kids in her class. Of course, that wouldn’t last for very long, Riley thought gloomily. Most of them would be reading long after Riley died.
“What have you got there?” a nurse asked, entering the room.
“Who are you?”
“I’m your nurse, hon.”
“What happened to the other lady?”
“Wendy? Oh, she had the night shift. I’ll be with you during the day today.”
“Okay,” Riley said, going back to the book in her hands.
The nurse tried to make small talk while she fiddled with the machines, but Riley was too absorbed in the words on the page. Quinn had bookmarked a chapter about a plane crash. Riley hadn’t been on a plane before. She hadn’t even considered what flying must be like. Would she be scared?
That was a tough question. Everyone she met had fears, but Riley’s life didn’t leave much room for them. She was dying. When you really think about folks, almost everyone’s fears are really just a fear of death, and why should Riley fear the one thing in her life that she had always known was coming? But if that were true, why had she been so scared the night before? Because, she realized, she had been alone. Everybody knew: the only thing scarier than dying is dying alone.
“Sorry that took so long,” her mother said, startling Riley from her thoughts. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I got a little of everything.”
Riley set the book down on her lap and looked through the bag her mother had set on her bed. “Did you get anything to drink?”
“Of course,” Jane said, smiling. “I picked up one of those sunrise smoothies you like.”
“Yes!” Riley shouted, raising her arms in the air.
The best thing about being in the hospital was that her mother often splurged on her favorite foods. She took the cup from her mother, then pulled two burritos wrapped in foil from the bag.
“Thanks, mama.”
“Of course. Has Dr. Howe been in?”
“No. Just some nurse. Not the lady from before. A different one.”
Riley spread salsa on the tip of her burrito, then took a bite. Her mother often made fun of her love for spicy food. She’d started eating salsa when she was just eighteen months old. Quinn gave her a taste as a joke, figuring Riley would go crazy when her tongue began to burn. Instead, Riley dunked her entire fist into the salsa and licked her fingers.
After she’d finished her first burrito, she asked, “Any word from Quinn?”
Her mother looked away. “No, nothing yet.”
“Do you think she’s okay?”
Jane chewed her lip. “I’m sure she’s fine.”
Riley stared at her. “You’re not supposed to do that.”
“What?”
“Lie to family. That’s our promise, remember? No lies, even when the truth hurts.”
Jane sighed. Before she had a chance to speak again, Dr. Howe entered the room. He had bags under his eyes and a massive paper cup in one hand. Steam wafted from the opening on the lid, filling the room with the smell of burnt coffee.
“Good morning, Riley. How are we feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” Riley admitted.
“I can see that. What on earth did you do to your head?”
Jane updated Dr. Howe on the symptoms she and Quinn had noticed, as well as the events of the night before. When she described the nurses surrounding Riley, Riley reached for her hand.
“I don’t remember any of that, mama.”
“I know. You slept right through.”
Dr. Howe reviewed the notes on his clipboard, comparing the numbers in front of him with those on the machines.
“Well, looks like the oxygen is helping, but not by much.”
“So what’s the plan? Another valvuloplasty?”
“That was just a stopgap.” He looked at Riley and frowned. “Perhaps we should discuss this outside?”
“No,” Riley insisted. “I don’t like when you talk about me where I can’t hear.”
Dr. Howe looked to Jane, who nodded. “I’m afraid we’ve run out of options.”
“So, I’m not going to get better this time?”
Dr. Howe spoke slowly, lingering on each word.
“What I’m saying is that there’s nothing more I can do for you.”
Riley tried not to get angry, but she couldn’t hold her tongue anymore. No one ever wanted to come right out and tell her she was going to die even though everyone knew. They had known from the moment she was born. Her entire life was a timeline with a definitive end. So why wasn’t Dr. Howe telling her the truth, that this was her last visit to the hospital, that she wouldn’t go back to school or ever walk Butterfly at the park again? Why was he avoiding looking at her? All her frustration came tumbling out of her.
“I’m not a child, you know! I’m seven years old, and I’ve been dying my whole freaking life. The least you could do is tell me!”
Jane gasped, her eyes wide and glassy. “Riley!”
“That’s all right, Ms. Willow. She’s correct.” Dr. Howe turned to Riley. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have avoided your question. The truth is, I don’t want to believe that you’re dying, so I have a hard time saying those words out loud. But you’re right. You deserve an honest answer.”
Dr. Howe paused, pain washing over his face.
The Kaleidoscope Sisters Page 14
