Four Three Two One
Page 25
Carter wrapped with an explanation. He would escort us on first and then the exhibit would open. A trickle of blood rolled onto my lip. Chan wiped it away with his thumb. “Thank you for coming with me,” I said.
I pulled two beanies from my shoulder bag and shoved one over my head. “These things have enough lives to survive the apocalypse.” I handed the other to Chan.
With false bluster, Rudy smacked Chan’s arm and said, “Suit up, Clayton,” and tapped his beanie.
I wiped my nose again.
Chan took off his hat, handed it to my dad, donned a beanie. We were all wearing them then.
Rudy said to Chan, “I’ll go first if you’ll help.”
From the crowd we heard, “Get out of my way. Hey, excuse me. I need to be with them.”
“Becky!” Caroline said as Becky bumped a reporter.
“I’ll get this side. You get the other,” she told Chan, and gripped the wheels of Rudy’s chair. Becky wasn’t a muscleman, but I heard her adrenaline pumping three feet away.
Chan did what she asked, and in a blink Rudy was on the bus. He’d done it, his face sheet-white and victorious. “You’re coming with me,” he said. The crowd would have thought he said it to them, but he looked at me and mouthed, “Bandit.”
“Okay, Care, your turn,” Becky coaxed.
Caroline climbed the first step, and then the second and third. Success. She disappeared behind the glass after kissing Becky on the cheek, very near the lips.
There were four of us. There were three of us. There were two of us. I was the only one left on the sidewalk.
Chan stood at the top step, waiting. I looked beyond him. What if I’d come all this way and couldn’t move?
Becky buzzed around Chan and said, “Vader your frickin’ heart out, Jennings.”
Becky. Always being Becky. “I’m ready to be ready,” I told her, but I didn’t move.
Chan said, “I know the way home.” He pointed toward the inside of Accelerant Orange. “You can do this.”
Becky and Chan put their hands out to me at the same time.
I checked over my shoulder. My parents stood with Gran. My mother cried. My father beamed. If I wanted, I could fall into their arms and they’d whisk me away saying, “Nothing will ever hurt you.” That was a beautiful lie. My gran mouthed, “Ellis Island, baby,” and I stretched out my arms and took Chan’s and Becky’s hands.
CAROLINE
Becky held my hand all day. The only time she let go was when I asked if I could have my purple headband back. She laughed and put it around my neck.
“That thing will clash with red hair,” she told me.
I told her, “We’ll have to see about that.”
Epilogue
Golden Jennings
Mr. Cullivan
ENG 1001
September 14, 2020
From Here to There
John William Jennings came through Ellis Island on June 16, 1907. His great-great-great granddaughter, Golden, followed in his footsteps on April 15, 2018.
It was a glorious spring Sunday in New York City, a great day for sightseeing with family and friends. Golden was fortunate enough to have both at her side.
People who witnessed Go that day said she held a No. 3 Kodak and captured freedom through an antique lens. But Go said she’d captured freedom earlier that day. At high noon. On a curb. Outside the Green-Conwell Hotel. With the world watching.
Maybe you were there too. Maybe you cheered. Maybe you donated. Maybe you loved. But if you didn’t, you should know this: Her name was Golden Alistair Jennings, but everyone called her Go. She came not from England or Ireland, nor by ship.
She came by bus.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my publishing trifecta: Kelly Sonnack, Rosemary Brosnan, and Alyssa Miele, my deepest thanks for listening, loving, and growing me as an author and human. And to the entire team at HarperTeen, I’m incredibly grateful. Hats off to Yuschav Arly for cover art and Erin Fitzsimmons for design.
Patricia Riley, Erica Rodgers, Kristin Tubb, Mary Weber—from the kitchen table to Voxer to countless emails and phone calls, this one came together bird by bird and love by love. You held up my arms. Exodus 17:12.
Maggie Stiefvater, Sarah Batista-Pereira, Brenna Yovanoff—you gave hours and hours of brainstorming, reading, and encouragement. Maggie, you set up the rhythm for page one and gave me a title. Both made a huge difference. There aren’t enough thanks for how you all have shaped me.
David Arnold and Ruta Sepetys—I can’t navigate this world without you. Thank you for reading and always offering insight.
Thanks should also be extended to this marvelous lot of folks: Shaun and Bridget Chambers; Ed Stiefvater; my whole Nashville Taco crew (Lauren, Ashley, Alisha, etc.) for the constant queso, love, and support; Gwenda Bond, Megan Shepherd, Carrie Ryan; Batcave 2015; S. R. Johannes; J. T. Ellison; Paige Crutcher; Myra McEntire; Katie Cotugno; Kim Liggitt; Kate Dopirak, Stephanie Appell, Niki Coffman, Parnassus Books; Andrew Hummel; Home Church Nashville; Maura Buckley; and Katie Corbin.
Mom, Dad, Matt, Carla, Christa, and my whole wonderful family—I love you so much.
To the readers, you will always be my better half.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo by Carla Lafontaine
COURTNEY “COURT” STEVENS grew up among rivers, cornfields, churches, and gossip in the small-town South. She is a former adjunct professor, youth minister, and Olympic torch bearer. She has a pet whale named Herman, a band saw named Rex, and several books with her name on the spine: Faking Normal, The Lies About Truth, and Golden Kite Award Honor Book and Kirkus Best Book of the Year Dress Codes for Small Towns. She lives in Nashville, Tennessee. You can visit her online at www.courtneycstevens.com.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
BOOKS BY COURTNEY STEVENS
Faking Normal
The Blue-Haired Boy
The Lies About Truth
Dress Codes for Small Towns
Four Three Two One
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COPYRIGHT
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
FOUR THREE TWO ONE. Copyright © 2018 by Courtney Stevens. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Cover art by Yuschav Arly
Cover design by David Curtis
* * *
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017057322
Digital Edition NOVEMBER 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-239856-7
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-239854-3
* * *
1819202122CG/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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