Dreamer, Wisher, Liar

by Charise Mericle Harper

  I sat down in the chair and opened the wish. As soon as I read it, I cringed and wished I’d picked a different one, but it was too late—I had to go. A second later I was gone.

  I Wish I’d Never Met Ashley

  “Black snake!” As soon as I saw Shue, I said it. I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, but I knew it was going to be bad. I forced myself to concentrate on what I was seeing, but it was hard not to worry about the trip home. It was going to be painful. Shue was up ahead of me, walking. We were on the street where I’d first met the girls. It was almost the same: Shue was walking toward Ashley, only this time Ashley had two other girls with her. I didn’t know them, but somehow I already didn’t like them. I ran up to Shue so I could see her face. She looked nervous. Ashley and the girls were talking and laughing. As they passed, Shue said, “Hi.” Ashley mumbled back a “hi” and then slowed down. Was she going to stop? Was she going to talk to Shue?

  “Who’s that?” asked the girl on the left.

  She was loud, one of those bossy types. Ashley didn’t answer.

  “She looks like she’s twelve,” said the girl.

  “I remember when I was twelve,” said the other girl. “I was such a baby!”

  Both girls laughed. Suddenly Ashley was walking away fast. The girls next to her had to run to keep up. They were too far away for me to hear their words, but we could still hear their laughter, and somehow that was worse.

  I tried to catch up with Shue, but she was fast, and I was fading away. Was she crying? Was she angry? Was she mad? And then I braced myself.

  The zap was stronger this time. I wiped away my tears. But my tears weren’t only for the pain; they were for something else. Something that made them hard to control, something that wasn’t over in ten seconds—they were for Shue.

  I sat in the chair for what seemed like an hour before I finally had the energy to get up. An hour of sitting gives you a lot of time to think. Ashley and Shue’s story wasn’t hard to figure out. They were best friends over the summer, and then when school started, Ashley dumped Shue. I tried to understand why Ashley had done this, but I couldn’t. No matter how I looked at it, it didn’t seem fair. I wanted their story to end happily ever after, but that wasn’t going to happen. It was a tragedy. That kind of story is hard to watch. I had to drag myself up the stairs.

  There was a lot going on in the kitchen. Claire was talking to her dad on the phone, Mom was making pasta sauce, and there was a postcard from Lucy sitting on the table. I sat down and read it. She had gotten the coconut! That made me laugh. Mom looked over, and I waved Lucy’s card at her. I didn’t want to explain the reason for my laughter, but I showed her the why. Lucy was having fun. I liked that she was finally telling me about what she was doing—not worried it would hurt my feelings. The coolest-sounding thing was a swimming obstacle course that had a rope swing and a trampoline, and they were both in the water. Only six more days to wait.

  Claire finished the call with her dad just as I finished my postcard. Just like before, she was filled with energy.

  “Guess what?”

  Before I could guess, she was telling me.

  “Daddy just got back from working at a circus, and he saw acrobats and three elephants. There were clowns too, but they weren’t wearing their makeup, so they weren’t funny.” Claire was quiet. Was she thinking about the clowns? Disappointed for her dad? Whatever it was, she got over it and a few seconds later was back to her old self. “And when I go back home, we get to go there and watch the show.”

  I smiled and nodded. I hadn’t thought about that, her being gone. Would I miss her? I was glad that she was happy, and clowns without makeup didn’t sound disappointing at all. It was a bonus. It was nice that we both had something to look forward to.

  The whole rest of the day was pretty uneventful. It gave me lots of time to recover. I didn’t know why, but the wishes were different now. They were the opposite of Claire—they were sucking the energy out of me.

  chapter thirty-three

  Remember

  Mom wasn’t excited about me going down to the basement before breakfast. I had the notebook in my hand, but it wasn’t working its usual magic.

  Mom pointed to my chair. “Why don’t you sit here with me and wait for Claire. We can have breakfast together.”

  I tapped my notebook. I was getting good at the lying, but was that something to be proud of? I tried not think about it and continued.

  “I have some ideas I really need to get down. I’ll come back up when Claire’s awake.”

  Mom sighed and picked up her coffee cup. She’d lost. I walked to the basement door, opened it, and then turned back.

  “I’ll try to be fast.”

  Was it another lie? I didn’t know, but hopefully it made her feel better. As soon as I got to the basement, I pulled out the wish jar and picked out a wish. I studied the paper ball. More than anything I wanted it to be Anderson’s. “Are you Anderson’s?” Of course it didn’t answer. I opened it and read it.

  I Wish the Man Knew It Wasn’t Us

  The girls were in Ashley’s room. Ashley was on the far side looking in her desk, and Shue was at the window. That was a good sign. Maybe this was about Anderson’s—I smiled. I felt daring. I walked over to Shue and whispered in her ear.

  “Emerald deer.”

  Shue gasped and shouted, “NO!”

  I froze. She’d heard me? Could she see me? But she wasn’t talking about me. She was pointing out the window. Ashley rushed over, but I couldn’t move. My heart was still racing, and my feet were stuck. I tried to get over it. I listened to the girls.

  Ashley moved closer to the window. “What’s she doing?”

  “She’s pretending to be us!” answered Shue. “To get us into trouble.”

  Ashley shook her head. “I don’t know. Why would she do that?”

  Shue put her hands up to her mouth. She looked upset.

  Finally I felt normal. I walked over to the girls and looked out the window. It was the woman from the apartment—the one with the red shoes. She was standing at the back door of Anderson’s, and she was doing exactly what the girls had done—putting her shoes into the man’s boots. Shue was right. She was trying to get them into trouble.

  Suddenly Ashley jumped up and danced around the room. “I was right. I was right. It’s a love story.”

  Shue watched her, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll understand when you’re older,” joked Ashley.

  Shue scowled and looked grumpy.

  Ashley came back to the window. “Okay. I’ll tell you.” She waved her arms in the air, and gave herself a drum roll. “She’s putting her shoes in his boots so she can talk to him again.”

  Shue shook her head. “That’s dumb. If she wanted to talk to him, she’d just go talk to him.”

  Ashley shook her head and smiled. “It doesn’t work that way. When people are in love, everything has to be romantic, and romance is complicated.”

  I could tell that Shue didn’t believe her. We watched the lady hurry back to her porch. And that’s when I noticed the purse—the goldfish purse. It was hanging over her shoulder. It was far away, but it looked like the same purse Miss Sato had—another weird coincidence? Or did it mean something?

  Shue pointed to the lady. “What’s she going to do now? Just sit around and wait for him to come out and find her shoes?”

  Ashley nodded. “Exactly. It could take hours.”

  Ashley walked back to her desk and fiddled with some papers. Shue was torn. She probably didn’t want to spend hours looking out the window, but she didn’t want to miss anything either.

  She put her hands on her hips and scowled. “Well, whatever happens, she’s making us look bad!”

  I nodded; she was right about that. I wanted to stay with Shue—see what would happen next—but I couldn’t. I felt myself fading away. This time it wasn’t slow and easy; instead it was blink-fast and painful—like touching an electrical f
ence. I felt it flow through every part of me, and then it was over. I looked down at my hands; they were like claws clutching the arms of the chair. I forced them free and sank back. What had just happened? If the first wish had been like this, would I have done another one? Why was it suddenly so painful? Was it the jar? I leaned over to pick it up, but it wasn’t next to me. Instead, it was on its side in the middle of the floor, and the wish balls were scattered everywhere. I could hear Claire and Mom moving around upstairs. I cleaned it up as fast as I could.

  When I got upstairs, Claire was eating a waffle.

  Mom smiled. “She’s trying something new.”

  I nodded. Claire held her fork up.

  “It’s nifty.”

  I rolled my eyes and pulled a bagel out of the bag on the counter. Fresh bagels—she didn’t know what she was missing.

  While we ate, Mom told us about the yard sale she was planning. She was doing it because it was on Claire’s list, but it was a good idea. She really needed to clean out her junk.

  “It’ll be Saturday at nine,” said Mom. “And Ash, I need you to go through your room and find some things for the sale.”

  I coughed and almost choked. Was she kidding? Not that I was against cleaning my room, but really! With all the junk that Mom had, the stuff from my room wasn’t going to make much of a difference. Mom looked at me and nodded.

  “I know, I know. I have work to do.” She put her hand over her heart. “I’m going to start today, in the attic!”

  It was a declaration of war—Mom against the mess. I didn’t say anything, but I was pretty sure she was going to lose.

  Since Claire didn’t have any old stuff to go through, she came to my room to help me. I didn’t have anywhere near as much junk as Mom, but still, I had stuff I didn’t use anymore. After about ten minutes, I wasn’t so sure that having Claire help out was the best idea. Almost every time I put something in the yard sale box, she pulled it out and asked if she could keep it. Finally I just went downstairs and got her her own box and wrote her name on it. After about an hour her box was almost full, and my yard sale box had six things in it.

  Mom was in the attic; I could hear her moving around. Every ten minutes she’d toss something down, and it would land in the hall outside my room. After a couple of hours the pile was almost as high as Claire’s head.

  I yelled up to her. “Are you close to done?”

  Instead of answering, Mom came down the ladder and handed me a hat. It wasn’t just any hat; it was my old adventure hat. Instantly my brain was filled with memories, all of them rushing back at the same time. Claire was staring at me. I knew I was smiling, but I couldn’t stop. It felt great to suddenly remember things I hadn’t thought about in ages. If Lucy had been next to me, all our sentences would have started with Do you remember the time when . . . ?

  Claire tugged on my arm. “Why are you so happy?”

  It wasn’t easy to explain, but I tried.

  “This used to be my favorite hat, and Lucy and I shared it. One day she’d get to wear it, and the next day I’d get to wear it.”

  Claire nodded—so far, so good.

  “We called it our adventure hat, because whoever had the hat on got to make up an adventure for the day—things like an obstacle course, or a scavenger hunt—something like that.”

  Suddenly I remembered the time we’d gotten stuck in a tree, and Dad had to borrow the neighbors’ ladder to get us down. I think that one had been my fault, but there were lots of stories. The hat was always getting us into trouble. That’s why Mom called it the trouble hat. I smiled; I’d forgotten about that too. It was fun to suddenly remember everything.

  “What’s a scavenger hunt?” asked Claire.

  Her question pulled me back to the now. It took me a second to adjust.

  “Uh . . . it’s kind of like a treasure hunt, only you have to find certain things. Usually there’s a list, and you have to find everything on the list.”

  She pulled my arm. “Can we do that instead of a treasure hunt?”

  I almost asked, “What treasure hunt?” but then remembered it was one of the things on her list.

  I thought about it for a second and nodded. Sure, why not? It’d probably be fun to make one again.

  “Can I try it?” Claire pointed to the hat.

  I handed it to her. “Only for a few minutes. I want to mail it to Lucy.”

  “Are you going to write inside it?” She pulled the hat low on her head.

  I shook my head. It didn’t need any words. The hat was going to work for Lucy, just as it had for me. The minute she saw it, she was going to be on a trip down memory lane.

  Claire came with me to the VS Depot. I wouldn’t have been able to keep her away—she was desperate to see if Peter was back, and if he’d eaten the cookies we’d left him. I pulled up to the store and parked the bike. Claire jumped off and raced in. As soon as I opened the door, I saw him.

  “LOOK! He’s back!” shouted Claire. She was bouncing up and down. “He was gone because he had to go to a meeting.”

  I waved and smiled. I was glad he was back and happy to see him too.

  “What are we mailing today? More cookies? I hope so, because those were delicious. Thank you.”

  Claire shook her head. “No, it’s just a hat.”

  I pulled the hat out of my backpack and put it on the counter.

  “No box, right?” asked Peter.

  I nodded. Peter weighed the hat and stuck a stamp on it.

  Before he had a chance to ask, I said, “I didn’t read the book last night.”

  He looked disappointed. “Why? Are you not liking it again?”

  I was trying to trick him, so I put my head down and pretended to be sad. And then, when I was sure that he was believing me, I looked up and said, “I’m loving it!”

  Peter tried to act casual, but his smile was huge. I had totally tricked him. We talked about the book for another ten minutes. It was amazing; everything in the book was suddenly making sense—even the crazy story about the squirrel had turned out to be important. Peter knew the story even better than I did, but still he was interested in what I had to say about it. Most adults don’t care what a kid thinks; Peter was different. He wasn’t one bit like that. It was like a mini book club, and I loved it.

  Claire was good about not interrupting us. Peter gave her some scrap paper and a pen, and as long as she could draw, she was happy.

  Suddenly Claire stood up and waved her drawings in the air. “Can I mail these to the old people’s home?”

  I looked down; she was holding three new cards for Miss Sato.

  I shook my head. “Let’s wait until Friday, and you can give them to Mr. Fred again, just like before.”

  Claire shot me a scowling look and crossed her arms. “No, I want to mail them! You got to mail your hat; how come I can’t mail my cards?”

  I had two good reasons: one, I didn’t have the address, and two, I didn’t have enough money. But Claire was stubborn; she didn’t care. Peter came to the rescue—he looked up the address and lent us money for the stamps. He was a nice guy.

  Dad called after dinner and I talked to him for a whole fifteen minutes. I was surprised and glad when he said he was coming home in two days. How had I not been thinking more about that? Dad promised he would do something special with Claire and me before camp started. He wouldn’t make any promises, but I was really hoping for a trip to the amusement park.

  chapter thirty-four

  Old

  I set my alarm, and before anyone was awake, or even thinking of waking up, I was creeping down to the basement. It was five a.m. The plan was to do as many wishes as I could. I wanted to find the lady with the goldfish bag. Was she who I thought she was? The only thing that worried me was how painful the coming back would be. Was it going to be bad every time? Was pain the new normal? It was scary, but not enough to stop me.

  I pulled out the jar, sat down, and picked a wish. As soon as I read it, I cringed. It was a
bad one. I’d had it before. Maybe it wouldn’t work? But it did, and a second later I was on my way.

  I Wish Ashley Wouldn’t Ignore Me

  As soon as I saw Shue, I said my test words, “Gray penguin.” I knew where I was. This was going to be the same as before—it was the first wish all over again. Everything was the same, the street, Shue, Ashley—only this time I knew who they were, and what was next. But it didn’t make it easier. I couldn’t watch Shue—I didn’t want to see her cry. So I decided to watch Ashley.

  The girls were walking toward each other; they were close now—almost passing. In a few seconds Shue would say hi. I studied Ashley; she was staring straight ahead, like she was the only person on the sidewalk—like Shue was invisible. But I saw her look left, just for a second, toward Shue. Did Shue see it too? Was that why she spoke? Ashley looked straight ahead and pretended like she hadn’t heard her, but I knew that she had—I saw her flinch. And then I saw something that I hadn’t noticed before, and Shue hadn’t either—Ashley was crying. I hated her, felt sorry for her, and was disappointed in her, all at once. Why was she so weak? Why couldn’t she stand up to her friends and be nice to Shue?

  I felt myself fading away and braced for the pain. Was it because I was getting better at being ready? Stronger? Braver? Or was the shock just not as strong? I couldn’t tell, but whatever the reason, I was thankful that it seemed less painful than the last time. I reached into the jar and pulled out another wish.

  I Hope They Get Married

  Shue was walking on the sidewalk. At first I didn’t recognize the street, but as we got closer to the corner, I recognized where we were—we were going to the candy store. When she got to the corner, Shue turned and walked toward it. We passed a store with photos of animals in the window; there was a cute panda in a tree. Suddenly I had my test words.

  “Violet panda.” I used my normal voice this time. Suddenly Shue gasped and dropped to the ground. She undid her shoe and slowly tied it again, and when it was tied she undid it again. I knew that trick—she was hiding from someone. I looked up. A man and a lady were walking toward us; it took me a few seconds, but I recognized them—not from their faces, but from their clothes—red shoes, a goldfish bag, and work boots. No wonder she was worried. Would the man recognize her? Shue kept her head down as they got closer. The man and the lady were joking, smiling, and holding hands.