“Down here!” she shouted. “We’ll start from the bottom and work our way up!”
“Sounds good,” a voice cracked. “On our way.”
The voice started to say something else, but Meelie had already turned her attention back to the ocean floor. The patch shivered, and Meelie heard a loud whoosh that sounded like an airplane passing too low overhead. She rubbed her eyes and peered into the abyss; what she saw frightened her to her very core: there, floating in a limp fetal position, was Quinn. Her form was almost entirely cloaked in shadow save a single glow emanating from the center of her chest.
“Sweet Mary! Quinn, are you okay?”
No response. The body was motionless, doll-like.
“Can you hear me, Quinn?” she screamed, her shrill plea clawing up through her throat and catching on her tongue.
Still nothing.
Meelie couldn’t wait any longer. She thrust a hand into the water, then the other. She swam toward Quinn, fighting to conserve enough energy to get them both back into the cave. The pressure around her reminded her of high-altitude flying, the way her limbs began to ache and her brain swelled in her head. She lunged for Quinn’s hand, but missed. She would have to get closer. Her air was running out, and she could feel her body filling with carbon dioxide. She kept her arms outstretched, closing her eyes to better focus on moving through the water. Moments later, she felt Quinn’s fingers graze hers. Meelie shot forward, grabbing one lifeless, ice-cold wrist.
Having secured her friend, Meelie turned back to the cave. Her chest throbbed. She was locked in a battle with her natural instinct, which was telling her to take a deep breath. She would be a fool to open her mouth at this depth, though. She shut her eyes again and kicked, then again. On the third kick, she drew close enough to hear the children. They must be waiting to see if she would get back to the cave on her own. Besides, only one of the children had a frame much larger than the typical eight-year-old. They wouldn’t have the strength to rescue Meeile if she got stuck in the water. Lucky for everyone, she wasn’t new to ocean floors. One more kick, and Meelie fell into the cavern, sputtering and gasping for breath. Quinn tumbled in behind her, landing face down on the rocks.
“Help her,” she gasped. “She’s not breathing!”
Aimee knelt over Quinn, tilting her head back to clear the airway, then blew a long breath into the young girl’s lungs. She put her palms over Quinn’s heart, but she didn’t press down. She was transfixed by the ruddy, orange glow coming from beneath the girl’s breast bone.
“Aimee!” Meelie yelled.
This startled Aimee, who shook her head, then began a series of compressions.
“Come on, Quinn,” she begged. “Not like this. You’re a fighter, kid. Come on!”
Quinn’s eyes flitted open. Water and blood spilled from her mouth.
“Save . . . Riley . . .” she croaked. “Riley . . . not me.”
Meelie looked to Aimee, who shook her head. Neither of them knew how to get to Riley, much less how to save her. They wouldn’t even recognize the world waiting for them on the other side of the portal.
“Backpack—” Quinn grunted, rolling to one side.
One of the children saw a bulge underneath Quinn’s shirt. She ran toward the women, yanking the hem of the girl’s shirt up and pointing to the knapsack. Meelie maneuvered the straps off Quinn’s shoulders, then tore open the bag. Two books fell onto the floor, followed by a plastic card with Quinn’s picture in the upper-right corner. Meelie snatched the card and studied the markings.
“Is this an address?” She pointed to a series of words, holding the card for everyone to inspect.
Another of the children nodded, adding that what Meelie held was a library card. The oldest child explained that the address was for the library, which was probably very close to Quinn’s house. If one of the women could get to the library, she would have a decent chance of finding Riley. Meelie asked if anyone had seen the heart flowers on the way down, but they each shook their heads. She wasn’t convinced; she doubted whether most of them even knew what the heart flowers looked like. Still, they couldn’t save Riley without one.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Aimee asked Meelie, pointing to the glowing spot on Quinn’s chest.
Meelie bent down, putting her ear to the strange light.
“That’s a heart flower!” she exclaimed. “Inside her. She must have pressed one against her chest as she came through the portal!”
The light was starting to fade, as did the low thump. Meelie put her mouth over Quinn’s and blew, but she couldn’t bring herself to pump her friend’s chest. She knew what Quinn wanted. Somehow, she had to get that bulb to Riley. She had to save Quinn’s sister one last time.
“I need something sharp—a rock or knife or something. Hurry!”
Aimee and the children scrambled to their feet, patting pockets and running through the massive space in search of anything that might work. Aimee was the first to find a razor-thin sliver of stone. She ran back to Meelie, handing her the find. Meelie grabbed the rock and pressed hard into Quinn’s skin. Aimee stood open-mouthed for several minutes before realizing that the children were standing behind her. She ushered them away, whispering that everything would be okay. God willing, she was right.
The heart flower hadn’t passed through the breastplate, yet. Meelie let out a loud sigh, tugging the bulb free of her friend’s body. The glow intensified, and the rhythmic pulse filled the room.
“Someone has to get this to Riley!” she begged, turning to face the others.
“You,” Aimee said. “You have to go.”
Meelie started to protest, but she knew Aimee was right. She had hidden in the other realm for nearly a century. The time had come for her to face the world she’d left behind, no matter the consequences. Quinn had sacrificed her life for her sister; the least Meelie could do was sacrifice her legacy. She nodded toward Aimee, shoving the heart flower into the inside pocket of her bomber jacket. Before she had a chance to reconsider, she dove into the water, swimming with everything she had for the dark patch that Quinn had come through. She closed her eyes and entered the portal with the haunting, inescapable image of her lifeless friend, laid out on the cavern floor, pinned to her mind.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The river was cold and heavy, tossing Meelie about even before she broke the surface. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, tilting her head toward the sky. The sun screamed in her face, forcing her to bury her eyes in the crook of her shoulder almost immediately. She had long forgotten how bright the day could be. Had there really been a time when she looked forward to sunlight? She couldn’t imagine. Now, the sky just seemed obnoxious. Even the surface of the river was difficult to look at. Meelie squinted and pulled herself slowly toward the shore. When she was close enough to dig her hand into dirt, she dragged her body onto the grass and lay on her back. That was a bad decision. Even when she closed her eyes, she felt like she was eye-to-eye with a floodlight.
Meelie could hear children shrieking and, farther off, the strangest combination of hums and buzzes. She stood up to see that she was very near a park. Parents were scattered on impossibly perfect hills. Many of them had devices of some sort in their hands which they were either studying or holding up to the children running about. Doing a quick scan, she saw that concrete roads stretched out in every direction. Buildings lined the streets. Zooming past, Meelie saw a steady stream of vehicles. Sometimes, lights hanging over the street would change to red and the cars would line up as far back as she could see. The strangest thing was that many of the cars had only one person in them, and the drivers ranged from teenagers to geriatrics. She couldn’t imagine how each one of them could afford their own vehicle, or why so many people required vehicles at all.
“I love your jacket!” someone yelled from an open window.
Meelie started to thank the stranger, only to be cut off by the roar of engines as the light turned green. She waved in the di
rection of the voice, but she had already lost sight of the car. Undeterred, she ambled toward the parents. The hills, she found, were made from a kind of fake grass that felt soft and springy under her feet. The texture was odd but delightful, the perfect material for kids at play. As she approached, Meelie could feel the various parents staring at her. She must have looked a fright, standing there in sopping-wet flight pants and a heavy leather jacket. No matter—she was on a mission.
“Can someone point me toward the library, please?” she inquired, looking from face to face.
“Can you be more specific?”
“How do you mean?”
One of the women explained that the city had several libraries. Meelie pulled the library card from her pocket and read the address aloud. That seemed to be enough information, as another woman pointed to the intersection and rattled off directions for Meelie. She felt fortunate that she had some experience with navigation; otherwise, she surely would have gotten lost before she even started. She repeated the directions back to make sure she understood them, then set out for the library, which the lady had said was just a dozen or so blocks from the river.
* * *
Despite being nearby, finding the building was a challenge. First, Meelie had to cross the impossibly-busy street running parallel to the river. After several missteps, she successfully reached the far side of the road. Next, she had to weave through several small side streets. She kept a close eye on the street signs, turning left here and right there, until she stood before a beautiful, red brick building with a striking glass façade. A sign out front indicated that she had arrived at the library. Inside, she showed someone at the front desk Quinn’s library card.
“I found the card lying in the grass just outside,” she lied. “Might I have the young woman’s address so that I may return the card to her?”
The worker was hesitant, but Meelie insisted that she couldn’t bear to think of a young girl distraught about losing such an important item. In the end, Meelie left the library with a new address.
Again, she wove through the city, following the library attendant’s instructions exactly. She was grateful for the street signs because every house looked nearly identical to Meelie. Sure, she saw some variation in color and a few different designs, but the whole area felt very repetitive to her. Eventually, she arrived at Quinn’s house and knocked on the door. She heard a large dog barking inside, but no other signs of life. She felt a wave of frustration and slammed her hands against the door, which only served to rile up the dog further. She tried the door just to be safe, but of course the handle didn’t budge.
“Are you looking for Ms. Willow?” a voice called from the sidewalk.
Meelie spun around to see an older woman walking two miniature dachshunds. Again she lied, this time telling the woman that she had an urgent message for the owner of the house.
“Well, I’m afraid you just missed them. That little one, I forget her name, took a turn this morning. Poor thing, you can’t imagine what she’s been through, and only six years old. Mercy.”
The woman prattled on for several more minutes. Meelie pounced on the first opportunity to interject, asking for the name of the hospital and directions, if the neighbor was familiar enough. To Meelie’s surprise, the neighbor offered to drive her to the hospital. She was wary of climbing into one of the new-fangled vehicles with a stranger, but she had spent almost half the day tracking Riley down. If she was sick enough to be back in the hospital, Meelie had to pick up the pace. She accepted the offer and followed the neighbor to a house near the end of the street. The neighbor talked all the way to the hospital, saving Meelie the trouble of improvising any additional information.
Meelie was stunned by the size of the hospital. Even during the war, the largest hospital she had visited could house just a few hundred patients. She couldn’t even describe what she saw as a single building. This hospital was more like a sprawling complex, and the entire expanse was painted a soft pink that reminded Meelie of twilight in the other realm. She could search the hospital for hours and never find Riley, she realized. Even if she could find one little girl in the sea of patients, she would need a reason to enter the hospital room. Thankfully, she had enlisted as a nurse’s aide in her youth. Posing as a nurse was the perfect rouse. She decided to hunt down the appropriate clothing, then seek out Riley.
* * *
Having stumbled on a laundry room, Meelie donned a blue shirt and a blue pair of pants. The clothing looked odd and unprofessional, but she had passed numerous employees in similar garb. Besides, she didn’t have time to second-guess herself. Once she looked the part, finding someone to show her to Riley was relatively easy. As she followed her escort through the maze of narrow halls, Meelie gripped the pulsing bulb in her pants pocket. She hoped this would conceal the amber glow, as well as the bulge created by the heart flower. Each time they turned a corner, her own heart quickened. Playing the part of a nurse was simple, but facing Riley would be beyond difficult. On the one hand, she would have to give the heart flower to Riley without either her or her mother noticing; on the other, she would have to interact with Quinn’s family without letting them know that Quinn had died.
Finally, they stood outside a small room. Inside, Meelie saw the frail frame of a young girl, motionless save the occasional twitch of one hand. A woman sat in a chair next to the young girl, tears steadily trickling down her cheeks. The machines surrounding the two looked like a small, mournful city standing watch over Riley. She was so engrossed in the scene that she didn’t notice her escort leave, yet she was standing alone. She didn’t want to disrupt the moment, but she also didn’t want to call attention to herself unnecessarily. Her hands were clammy and her breath short. She decided to enter before she lost her nerve.
“Good evening. I’m Ame—Amy, your nurse for the time being.”
Riley opened her eyes weakly, looked at Meelie, then drifted off again.
“I thought our nurse’s name was Hannah,” the woman said, her voice thick with doubt.
“Oh, Hannah had an emergency. She’ll be back soon. I’m just here to fill in while she takes care of a few personal things.”
Meelie pretended to check the machines, then fluff Riley’s pillows. She tucked the coarse hospital blanket under the small girl’s frame, then put the back of her hand to Riley’s forehead.
“Do you feel cold, dear?” she asked Riley.
Riley didn’t respond.
“I think she needs another blanket. Would you mind terribly?” Meelie lied, motioning toward a set of linens on one wall.
The woman started to protest, but stopped herself and rose from her chair. As soon as her back was to Meelie and Riley, Meelie pulled the bulb from her pocket and placed the object on Riley’s chest. Within seconds, the heart flower had disappeared under Riley’s skin. Meelie quickly pulled the blanket up to Riley’s neck. Just then, the mother returned with the extra blanket, which Meelie draped over Riley’s torso.
“There you are, dear. You just sleep tight. You’ll be back home in no time.”
“Please don’t do that. She knows she’s too sick to be released again.”
“Beg your pardon, ma’am. I suppose you’re right. Then again, a little hope never hurt anybody, don’t you think?”
“I don’t have the strength to hope. Not again.”
“May I speak out of turn?”
“You might as well. Truth is about the only thing we have left.”
“I’ve a good mind that this little girl is stronger than any of us believes. Perhaps hope is on the menu, if only one more time.”
The mother sighed, but Meelie read gratitude in her expression.
“I’m sorry,” the mother said after a moment. “I’m just tired.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, dear. We have all heard of those who die with grace, but the living—well, now—putting your loved ones to rest with grace, that requires as much strength as anything.”
Quinn’s mother bega
n to weep.
Meelie excused herself, scurrying from the room before she, too, succumbed to the sadness she had been holding in her jaw. She took one more look at Riley, who was beginning to stir, then made her way from the hospital. Her feet carried her back to the river, which she walked along aimlessly. She knew that she ought to get back to the other realm, but the thought of burying Quinn upon her return made her legs heavy. Eventually, she came to the spot from which she’d emerged. The wind had died down, and the water was smooth as glass. Meelie waded into the river, swam out to the middle, and dove under. The next time she took a breath, she would be over Quinn’s body.
* * *
Without the sense of urgency distracting her, Meelie was much more cognizant of her surroundings as she passed back through the portal. Her limbs felt almost elastic as they were pulled taut. On every side, she saw cornflower blue dotted with white bursts of light. She must have been moving through the space quickly because the lights were blurry, and she couldn’t see where they originated. Then, Meelie realized that she was without a very familiar sensation: gravity. She didn’t feel grounded or held down the way she often did. Instead, her body hung suspended inside the portal. Something ancient rose from inside her, and she felt as free as she had in the cockpit. She began to weep. For more than a century, she had resisted the one thing that could take her home. Not back to her family or to the world she knew, but to that place where nothing fell, where nothing was heavy.
Meelie splashed into the ocean water more at peace than she had been since her plane crashed into the waves all those years ago. She had to fight her urge to smile as she swam toward the cave opening. The joy quickly dissipated, though, when she remembered what waited for her inside that cavernous void. Her face pushed through first, and she took a long breath, then clamped her hands on the rocky edge and let herself tumble from the water. She rubbed her eyes, then saw a pathway of glowing butterflies that wove through the cave and out of sight. Quinn and the others were already gone. She walked toward the first butterfly, inspecting the net that held the insect in place. Only one person in the other realm was capable of such craftsmanship. Aimee had left the butterflies on purpose. She wanted Meelie to follow them.
The Kaleidoscope Sisters Page 20
