Paper Chains

by Elaine Vickers

  Chapter 9

  WITH LESS THAN a month of links left on her Thankful Chain, Katie had started working on making the perfect presents for the people she loved. She threaded beads onto a thin, silver wire to the chik-chok of the pocket watch.

  There was something so reassuring about having everything in neat patterns, just where it belonged. Heart, space, jewel, space. Heart, space, jewel, space. Only a few to go before she could start on the second half of the bracelet for Ana’s Hanukkah present. Then she could work on her parents’ presents, once she figured out what to make for them. Everything had to be perfect this year.

  The gentle rhythm of the pocket watch helped keep Katie’s hands in a steady rhythm. She had kept the watch near her for eight straight nights, and she’d kept the box of cloves too. The rest of the house smelled of the giant fir tree in the family room, which Katie loved. But when she needed it, she could smell this almost-memory of her old life too.

  Tonight, though, her family would gather around that tree and read another Thankful from their chains, which meant they’d be one link closer to the Thankful she’d written about her birth parents. As she crimped another bead into just the right spot on the wire, Katie tried to picture that moment. But no matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t imagine anything but hurting the parents she loved and deepening the divide between them. Should she sneak down and change what she’d written? Get rid of that link altogether?

  Links, Katie thought as she attached a tiny fastener to the bracelet. That was the problem. Katie felt outside it all. Everyone seemed to be neatly connected but her, and even the perfect presents couldn’t fix that. She wrote the words from Grace’s letters on a small scrap of paper, wanting to believe them.

  Remember this truth: you are not alone.

  Then, like a sign, a single light shone from Ana’s window. See if you can come over. Katie strained to see her friend behind the light, but the room seemed empty. It was hard to tell, though, with the sun slanting toward her.

  Still, there was no mistaking the signal. Maybe today would be the day she’d finally have the courage to tell Ana all her secrets.

  Katie fixed the last fastener onto the bracelet and brushed the rest of the jewelry supplies into their bin. The second half of the bracelet would be easier now that she’d figured out how to make the first.

  “Mom,” she asked as she hurried down the stairs, “can I go over to Ana’s house?”

  Katie’s mom sat at the center of a room littered with Christmas decorations. “Will you help me for a few minutes first? It’s no fun by myself, and we need to get this done today so we can go to your appointment tomorrow.”

  How was it that the things you were dreading could creep up on you like that? Even though they’d been waiting months to see Katie’s new cardiologist, it didn’t seem possible that those months had passed so quickly.

  “I guess I can help for a little while,” Katie said. Ana would understand. She wasn’t the most patient, but she never stayed mad, and they’d still have time to hang out. Plus, she might have distracted herself with something else already.

  Together, Katie and her mom wound small white lights around the fresh pine boughs on the mantel. Katie carefully placed thick candles between the branches, wondering why she’d never noticed they looked almost like the trunks of upside-down trees growing into the woodwork. Everything looked just like it always had, just like it was supposed to. But somehow, none of it seemed quite right anymore.

  “See if this looks good up there too, will you?” her mom asked. “I’m not sure where to put it in this new house.”

  Katie caught her breath when her mom handed her a round red nesting doll just like the one she’d seen in the box.

  Well, almost. This one was bigger and seemed different somehow, like it had been painted by a machine instead of a person. It still looked like a mother, but a too-perfect mother with bright red lips and brown waves of hair beneath her shawl. And there were no initial-like letters painted on the bottom.

  “I don’t remember this,” she said. “Where did we put it in the old house?”

  “On top of the bookshelf,” her mom said. “You may not have been tall enough to notice it.” She cracked open the first figurine. “There’s another one inside,” she said. “And another one inside that.”

  “I know,” Katie said. She got the feeling somehow that she’d always known, even before she’d found the box in the attic. But maybe she wasn’t supposed to.

  Katie’s mom handed the pieces to her. “They’re called nesting dolls, but they have other names too. Matryoshka dolls. Some Americans call them babushka dolls. My mother gave me these when I was little, and someday I’ll give them to you.”

  Katie tried to feel grateful, but the matryoshka dolls she really wanted were the ones in the attic.

  “On the mantel?” she asked. “In front of the branches?” When her mom nodded, Katie cracked open the rest of the figures, then fit the halves back together and lined them up.

  Each one next to her mother, she thought. Katie had never met her grandma, the one who had given her mother these dolls and so many of her recipes. They’d been alive at the same time, just for a year, but that was before Katie had been adopted. She touched the little dolls one by one, starting with the tallest, and her eyes studied each, searching for some little imperfection.

  It wasn’t until she reached the smallest one that she saw something: an extra stroke, almost like a mistake, on both of the eyes. It made the doll seem sad, and different from the others. Katie scooted it a little farther away. Not far enough her mom would notice and fix it. For some reason, Katie didn’t want this to be fixed.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m done. Can I go to Ana’s house now?”

  Katie’s mom nodded. “You two come back here if you want. Mikey is always welcome too, you know.”

  “I know, Mom. And it’s okay if we go to Ana’s house once in a while.”

  Katie stepped out her back door and squinted in the bright afternoon light. The pond still shone frosty blue as she passed, even though the snow didn’t seem nearly so magical now that it was dirty and she’d been trudging through it for over a week. Footprints clumped and trailed all around the shore, but none of them went all the way to the ice.

  So nobody was skating yet. How long before they could try again? Long enough for her mom to forget about the last time?

  Ana would know. Katie pulled one hand from its mitten to knock on her best friend’s front door.

  But when the door swung open, Katie gasped and stepped back to make sure she didn’t have the wrong house.

  It was the old lady from the pond.

  The one Ana had sworn was in Katie’s imagination.

  Thin pieces of hair, white as fresh snow, had escaped the old woman’s bun. As she wrapped her shawl around herself and bent to study Katie’s face, Katie wondered if she’d somehow stepped into a storybook. An old woman in a shawl! And the rose pattern of the fabric—it reminded her of the nesting dolls.

  Before she could gather the courage to speak, Ana grabbed Katie by the arm and hurried her inside and toward the stairs. “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

  “I’m your best friend. What’s she doing here? The lady who supposedly doesn’t exist?”

  Ana hesitated half a second, then waved a hand toward the woman, who still watched them from the doorway. “Oh, that old lady. I didn’t know you were talking about her.” Ana’s laugh sounded false and forced. “That’s just my grandma. She’s a little different.”

  “Babushka!” the woman said. “Babushka! Babushka!”

  “See what I mean?” asked Ana.

  Babushka? Katie wondered. Like the dolls?

  Katie tried to get another peek, but Ana dragged her to the kitchen, where Mikey sat on a bar stool, pairing up forks and spoons.

  “Hi, Katie,” he said. “Did you run here or something?”

  Katie hadn’t even noticed she was still a little out of brea
th, or that there were beads of sweat along her hairline.

  So here it was. The perfect chance to tell them about her heart problem, which would lead right into telling about her adoption. All Katie’s secrets would be out.

  But she couldn’t quite do it. Not yet.

  “Yeah,” Katie lied. “I ran the whole way. I felt bad that I couldn’t come right when you signaled.”

  “I didn’t signal,” Ana said.

  Mikey tried to hide a laugh.

  “Mikey, did you put a candle in my window?”

  He broke into a full belly laugh, and Katie and Ana couldn’t be mad. Maybe it was okay to have one more person in on the secret.

  Ana rubbed her hands together. “Hey, did you hear about the field trip?”

  Katie shook her head. “What field trip?”

  “To my favorite skating rink in the universe.”

  “Seriously?” Katie asked. “And everybody gets to go?”

  “All the fifth graders,” Ana said, and Mikey gave a disappointed little moan. “As long as they’ve got all their homework turned in.” Before Katie could even let this sink in, Ana leaned over and spoke in a sneaky whisper. “Now that you know about my grandma, want to see something cool?”

  The last time Ana had asked Katie if she wanted to see something cool, they’d ended up setting Mrs. Clark’s tarantula loose by accident. But still, Katie let Ana lead her upstairs and into an unfamiliar bedroom, where she pulled an old, brown suitcase from under the bed.

  “Is this your grandma’s?” Katie asked. “I don’t know if we should be in here.”

  “Babushka will freak if she catches us, but this will only take a second. Check this out.”

  Ana popped the suitcase open, and Katie’s heart raced.

  A pocket watch, almost exactly like the one in her bed. Katie leaned closer, wondering if it was hers.

  No. There was no scratch near the clasp. But otherwise, they were identical.

  “Oh my goodness.”

  Ana reached toward the chain. “Doesn’t it seem like pirate treasure or something? Will you give me five bucks if I take it?”

  “It’s not yours,” Katie said. She tried to ignore the voice inside her pleading, It’s mine, it’s mine—even though she knew it wasn’t.

  “Looking for something?” Babushka appeared beside them, gripping a broomstick.

  “No,” Katie said. “We’re sorry. We just . . .”

  “. . . just wanted to make sure I didn’t drop any of your laundry in here last week.” Ana slammed the suitcase shut and slid it back under the bed.

  “Curious girls, hmm?” Babushka said. She came forward, shaking a gnarled finger at them. “The more you know, the sooner you grow old.”

  Katie shivered. That was almost exactly what her mom always said. Katie had to agree that Babushka did seem different, but maybe that was why she felt drawn to her. She wanted to ask Babushka about the strange saying, the pocket watch, and the rose-patterned shawl.

  Babushka reached up and touched Katie’s hair, and a warm sort of chill ran through her. “Ana,” said Babushka. “This girl can teach you how to fix your hair. Then you will not look like a beggar.”

  Katie felt her face flush. It felt good to have Babushka’s approval, but she didn’t want it at Ana’s expense.

  “Oh, I didn’t . . .”

  Something crashed and shattered in the kitchen.

  “Ack! Mikhail!”

  Babushka rushed out of the room.

  “I’d better get down there too so Mikey doesn’t bawl,” Ana said. “Just hang out here for a second.”

  Katie stood in the hallway, feeling absolutely awkward. Should she go to Ana’s room? Go downstairs? Go home? A door creaked open.

  “Ana?” called a weak voice.

  “Just me,” Katie said. “I’m sorry.”

  Ana’s mom wrapped a robe tight around her and stepped into the hallway. “Katie. Hi. I didn’t know you were coming over.”

  Katie searched for the right words to explain why she was standing there alone. “Well, there was just one candle in the window, so . . .” A warm flush crept into her cheeks. “That probably didn’t make any sense.” Why couldn’t she just fit in and feel like family, like Ana had at her house? Why did Katie always feel like she didn’t quite belong, no matter where she went?

  “It’s okay,” Ana’s mom said. “Do you know what made that crash?”

  “Mikey,” Katie said. “But Ana’s down there, and so is her grandma.”

  “Oh,” she said. “They don’t need me, then.” But she didn’t sound relieved at all. She sounded every bit as unconnected as Katie felt, and as she turned to go, Katie struggled for the right words. When she slipped her hands in her pockets, she found them.

  “Wait,” she said. Ana’s mom turned, and Katie stepped forward to press the paper into her hand.

  Ana’s mom unfolded the paper and whispered the words as she read them.

  “Remember this truth: you are not alone.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Finally, she looked up.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I hope you’re right.” She pulled Katie into her arms, and Katie could only think how different it felt from being hugged by her mother, how barely-there.

  But before Katie could even hug her back, she was gone, and the door latched tight between them.

  Ana

  Chapter 10

  ANA ALMOST BACKED down the stairs. Did she want to undo what had happened, or just un-see it?

  Her mom had gotten out of bed, even though it was a bad day.

  She’d been talking.

  She’d hugged somebody.

  Those were all good things. So why did Ana feel like she’d taken a puck to the chest?

  Katie saw Ana and smiled. There was no backing away now. They stood there for a second, and that was all it took for Babushka to find them.

  “Why are children today so idle?” she asked. “You are like a pair of crows. Standing around, poking at shiny things that do not belong to you. You need purpose.” She crooked one finger toward herself, and both girls followed her into her room.

  “Since you are so interested,” she said, pulling out the suitcase, “and since you need purpose, I tell you about this.” She took the pocket watch from the suitcase and thrust it toward them, pointing a gnarled finger at the bird on the back.

  “Okay,” said Ana. “But tell us the quick version.”

  Babushka huffed. “This is the firebird. And this,” she said, pointing to a feather that wasn’t quite connected to its tail, “is magic. Is purpose. If you have the feather of a firebird, a great quest has found you. You must return the feather to find your destiny, to make all your dreams come true. It is never easy, and it almost never works. It is a lonely and dangerous task. But you must try.”

  Ana tried not to roll her eyes. “So you’re saying we should look for a feather?”

  Babushka closed her hand and pulled the watch away. “The feather finds you. You must only recognize it and return it.”

  Ana flashed Babushka a thumbs-up. “Got it. Great advice. Thanks. We’ll keep our eyes out for firebird feathers.” She grabbed Katie by the elbow and started for the door. “Come on. We can check in my room first.”

  But when they got to Ana’s room and flopped onto the bed, her elbow hit something hard. Stupid puck. Ana pulled it out from under the blankets, but she nearly dropped it again when she saw what was on it. She held it up to Katie.

  “What does that look like?”

  Katie squinted. “A hockey puck.”

  Ana held the puck even closer. “Okay, yeah, but what’s on the puck?” She pointed to the Red Wings logo.

  “Oh my gosh,” Katie said. “It’s a feather.”

  Ana dropped the puck like it had suddenly turned red hot. “I never thought of it as a quest, I guess, but ever since I showed Mikey this puck, it’s like I’ve known there was something big I had to do.”

  Katie’s eyes widened. “Like what?” />
  “She said you have to take the feather back to its owner, right? That’s what I was thinking I needed to do anyway. Well, not take the puck, but I need to find my dad. I need to bring him back.”

  Katie shifted on the bed, and something underneath squeaked.

  “How are you going to do that?”

  So Ana told Katie the whole win-Dad-back-at-the-Winter-Classic plan. Katie didn’t look so sure.

  “What?” Ana asked. “You don’t think it will work, or you just don’t think I can do it?”

  “I don’t know. It kind of seems dangerous. And I’ve never met your dad, but you said he hasn’t ever come back to see you guys, so . . .”

  Ana tried to pad herself against that blow. “So I should give up. Just sit here and do nothing. That’s the answer? No wonder you and my mom are suddenly best friends.”

  Ana wished she could take that back when she saw the hurt on Katie’s face.

  “I don’t do nothing,” Katie said. “I just don’t think you should go by yourself. Your mom would probably take you. Or Babushka could.”

  “Babushka couldn’t, my mom wouldn’t. Plus, it’s not their quest and it’s not their feather.” She held up her hands in defense. “Not that I believe in that stuff! But still. It has to be me.”

  “And me!”

  Mikey rolled out from under the bed.

  “Oh, shoot. Mikey, you can’t tell.”

  Mikey raised his eyebrows. “I won’t tell if I can come.”

  Ana was stuck. Mikey might be good for convincing her dad to come home, but he also might slow her down. Still, there was only one answer that would keep him from yapping.

  “Okay, you can come. See, Katie? I won’t go by myself!”

  Katie frowned. “That’s not what I meant. Promise me you guys won’t go alone. You could get lost. Or kidnapped.” Mikey curled up like a kitten next to Katie, but Ana was too fired up to even sit down.

  “Well, now you’re acting just like your mom. Seriously, you’ve got to get a little courage!”

  Katie looked away. “There’s a difference between courage and crazy.”

  Ana threw her hands up. “There’s also a difference between staying safe and not even living. You don’t have to follow all the rules all the time.”