I yawned again. “I might need coffee.”
I was kidding, but Mom didn’t find it funny. “No way. You’re still dehydrated. Caffeine ban for you.”
I sipped my juice. “I know I scared you. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Mom snorted, but not in a mean way. “ ‘Scared’ is a bit of an understatement. When I came home around lunchtime and you were gone, I was worried. Then your dad called in a panic, to tell me the message you’d left him about going on a boat. He’d tried your phone and it kept going to voice mail. Somehow, he knew something was very wrong. That’s when I wasn’t just terrified for you, but hurt, too. Imagine being a mom and knowing your child is not only in trouble, but was sneaking around on you.”
I swallowed hard. “I wasn’t trying to be sneaky. I figured that you’d worry if I told you where I was going, but I also knew I had to tell someone. That’s why I sent the message to Dad.”
“What you mean is, you ‘figured’ that I’d forbid you from going.”
I studied the forkful of pancake I was holding. Eventually, I nodded. “Yeah. That was sneaky and wrong.”
Mom’s voice wavered. “If Lila hadn’t known exactly what you were up to . . .” She trailed off.
“Wait.” I set down my fork. “How did Lila know? I thought you asked them to go after me.”
Mom shook her head. “Luke and I were at the vine when your father phoned, and on our way back to town Kate called to tell Luke that Lila was begging her to rescue you. Lila was convinced you were out to sea in that storm.”
She really had saved me. But how had Lila known that I was out on the water? Was she following me that day? Whenever she came by, I had questions of my own for her.
My mom, waiting for me to explain myself, ahemed from across the table.
“I guess you want to know why I was in the skiff ?”
She nodded yes.
“I took the boat out to see if I could find clues about the lost colony along the water’s edge, where the land has eroded over the years. Ambr—” Oops, last thing I wanted to do was bring up that I’d spent the bulk of my time on the island hanging out with a risk-taking ghost boy. I was telling her the truth, but as much as she’d believe. “I’ve been trying to find evidence all summer. To figure out what happened to the colonists.”
“With Lila?”
“More like in competition with her. She was trying to use her ghost-hunting stuff to locate the lost colony. That gave me the idea that Roanoke is a mystery Dad could write about. I thought if I could just find the clues for him . . .”
Mom sighed. “I see.”
“But I never expected to get stuck out at sea in a storm.” I paused. “I’m really, really sorry for scaring you, and for needing Lila and Kate to rescue me.”
Mom tried to smile. “I accept your apology, but I think it goes without saying that I never, ever want you to do something like this again. And I’m going to have to think about appropriate consequences. Okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.” In the silence that followed, I thought about what I’d realized while stranded in the skiff: that I wanted to paddle my own way out of problems now. “Well, I have some questions for you, too,” I said. “If it’s okay for me to ask them.”
Mom looked me right in the eye and nodded. “That sounds like a good idea, sprout.” For once, not a we’ll see answer.
My voice wavering, I asked, “Why did Dad go to London so suddenly? What’s going on with you guys? I want to know the truth.”
Mom looked down at her coffee cup, rolling it in her hands. “Now I need to make an apology to you. I know it’s been a rough summer. You’ve been concerned about your dad and everything that’s been going on—and I haven’t given you many answers. Hardly any answers. I’m very sorry for that.”
A lump was forming in my throat. Ever since the day my dad disappeared, I’d longed to know what was going on with our family—even if it wasn’t something I’d like to hear. Now that it seemed like Mom might tell me, though, I felt scared.
Mom continued, “Your dad and I . . . Things have been kind of hard for a while. We do love each other, and we love you. But it just hasn’t been working between the two of us. We became very unhappy.” She stopped to hold up the juice carton to offer me a refill. I shook my head no.
“Anyway, it got to a point that, well . . . I decided it might be good if your dad went away for a little while. On a trial basis,” she added quickly. “So we both could see how things are when we’re apart.”
“You decided?” My head was spinning. This whole time, I thought my dad had walked out on us. But it was my mom’s idea for him to go?
I’d spent so much time being upset with him, for leaving not just me but us. I shuddered with guilt as I considered that maybe he’d disappeared only because Mom had told him to.
“It was sort of mutual. But ultimately, yes, it was my call.” Mom cleared her throat. “He was so upset when I asked that he left immediately. We didn’t plan it that way, to be so sudden and alarming. I should’ve told you that before. Pretending like Dad went away for work was a cop-out. It made things easier for me, and maybe for him, too, but not for you.” Mom looked like she might cry. “I tried to explain a couple of times, but I felt so guilty. Because I was the one who uprooted us. I didn’t want you to hate me for that.” Mom brushed at her eyes. “Then after I found out he took a spontaneous trip to London, of all places, I was as angry as I was confused. I didn’t want you to feel as lost as I felt. I’m afraid that we didn’t handle this very well.”
“Not at all!” I wanted to stomp out of the room, except there was that whole achiness thing. But I also wasn’t finished asking questions. This is scary, but I know now how brave I can be. “So what’s going on now? Are you guys getting divorced?” I heard her say the word “love” last night. Did divorced people say that to each other? Maybe only in times of crisis, like after their kid was trapped on a boat in stormy seas? I had no idea.
“The truth is—I don’t know. But I promise I’ll be honest with you from now on.”
That didn’t make me feel happy, or even relieved, but it was a start.
• • •
I spent the rest of the morning in the garden, reading my Shakespeare book. I opened it to a quote from The Tempest that chilled me: “Full fathom five thy father lies; of his bones are coral made; those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, but doth suffer a sea-change into something rich and strange.” It made me think of the watery resting place of Ambrose’s dad. My heart was heavy with the truth about my parents, but I was so grateful I still had them both. I turned the page, and Lila bounded through the gate without even knocking.
“Have you seen him today?”
“Who?” I asked, still thinking of my dad.
“Ambrose! Your ghost!”
I sat up, shaking my head. “Nope. But I’ve been resting all day. Plus, he’s never been to the cottage.”
“Then we need to go find him. There’s no time to waste.”
“I would’ve thought you’d be more interested in going back to the pinnace wreck,” I said.
“My mom and dad said we could check it out with the sonar, once the weather settles down. But maybe if we find your ghost friend, we can get information from him. That would be quicker than waiting for the archaeologists to brush the crud of four centuries off a shipwreck. Chop chop—get a move on! Aren’t you leaving soon?”
We planned to go back to New York the next week, and I was basically on house arrest until then—Mom had decided to work from the cottage because she was too paranoid about leaving me home alone to get lost at sea or whatever. (Perhaps not paranoia, under the circumstances.)
“Yup. But I’m not allowed to go anywhere now. Grounded.”
Lila shook her head. “Unacceptable. I’ll talk to your mother. Give me a second or two.” She dashed into the cottage, again without knocking. Minutes later, she and my mom came back.
“N
ell, you can go with Lila—but I want you girls to stay together the whole time.” Hands on hips indicated Mom meant business. “Take my phone with you.” She handed it to me. “Call the cottage if anything happens.” The only thing that had survived my waterlogged bag was the silver cup, which Lila had brought home to her dad. “Please be home for dinner. Lila, your family is eating here tonight.”
“Great!” Lila grabbed my hand and tugged me up from my Adirondack chair. I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure about this we’re-acting-like-old-friends business, but she did kinda save my life yesterday. Also, it was nice to have a friend who was living. “Let’s go!”
Lila had her bike, so I grabbed mine from the carport. Somebody had brought it back from the Elizabethan Gardens while I was sleeping.
“Where’s Sir Walter?” I wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen Lila without him.
“I left him at home. He slows me down on a bike.”
Made sense. “Where are we going?”
“To find Ambrose! You first saw him by the Festival Park, right?”
I nodded. “He probably hangs out there because he can be incognito thanks to the reenactors’ costumes.”
Lila, forever an overachiever, pumped her legs furiously as she sailed down the quiet streets of Manteo. I trailed behind, biking extra slow partly because of my aches and general grogginess, and partly because I was frightened to find Ambrose. Knowing that the person I’d spent much of the summer with wasn’t really a person was . . . bizarre. Did it undo the friendship I’d thought we had? What about how much I loved seeing his crazy mop of hair? Because if I was honest, being around Ambrose always gave me a few butterflies in my stomach, in that maybe I’m developing a crush kind of way.
Which begged the question: What kind of weirdo gets a crush on a ghost ? I had no idea how I was going to explain all this to Jade.
But I was also scared that we wouldn’t find Ambrose. I didn’t want him to be lost, at least not to me. All that time, he’d been hiding the real story—not just about who he was but also about this place. The colonists. Where they’d lived. Why they’d disappeared. I’d spent the better part of a summer traipsing around with one of history’s greatest mysteries. It was enough to make my head start spinning again.
Lila slowed down for me to catch up. “This probably goes without saying, but thanks for saving me,” I said. “Even though I assume that means you were probably spying, right?”
She shrugged. “Well, of course I was spying on you, but I hadn’t set out to. I was at the Waterside Theatre, taking some readings. I have to do that in the morning, before they start getting ready for the show. While I was poking around, I saw you in the distance—in that boat. You did not look like you knew what you were doing, and I could see the storm clouds rolling in.” She grinned. “So I saved my friend, and I found a ghost colonist. Double win.”
Friend. I wobbled a little on my bike. Has Lila considered me one this whole time? “Lila, I know I haven’t been the friendliest to you.” Worry flickered across her face. “Why didn’t you give up on me?”
She shrugged. “First of all, I didn’t want you to solve the mystery. I had to keep an eye on my competition. But also—after I bombed my Lost Colony audition, I didn’t have anything going on. As much as I love spending my days with Sir Walter, I was just happy that I’d found a person to maybe hang out with. Especially one interested in history like I am.”
I thought for a minute. “I guess I’m happy we found each other too.”
We ditched our bikes on a rack. Lila sweet-talked the admission guy into letting us into the park for free, explaining that we had an important message to deliver to someone from her dad. I was starting to realize how much more effective my searching could have been if only I’d joined forces with Lila from the beginning. She knew how to get things done.
We ran to the settlement village. I tried to remember exactly where I’d seen Ambrose for the first time—Near the blacksmith’s! “This way.” I motioned to Lila. She followed me over to the thatched building.
We peeked inside and walked around it. I didn’t see any signs of Ambrose. Lila pulled out her EMF detector, but it wasn’t registering anything. The guy doing demos tried to get us to come over and use the lathe. Then he asked where our admission tickets were.
“Sorry, have to use the ladies’!” Before Lila bolted, she whispered to me, “Follow my lead. Meet me at the entrance in a couple of minutes.”
I pointed at Lila, dashing away. “She has mine.” The guy shrugged and started chatting with an eager tourist.
Before I could follow her down the path, I heard someone whisper, “Pray pardon, Nell.” I turned to see Ambrose’s mom. His ghost mom, I guess. She hovered near the edge of the village, holding a bonnet in her hands. She twisted it nervously.
Slowly, I stepped toward her, worried about what she might say. Could ghosts die? Did they get lost, too? Maybe she didn’t know where Ambrose was.
Standing in the shade next to her, I tried to find any evidence that I wasn’t speaking to a flesh-and-blood person—like the haze of an apparition. But she appeared as solid as I did, and just as Ambrose had. Maybe she was a little bit paler than he normally looked. I wished Lila were next to me, so we could see if her EMF detector picked up anything ghostly after all. I grabbed the cell phone Mom had given me. But it was acting as weird as mine used to in the Grandmother Vine woods, with no bars. Maybe it’s the ghost energy?
“What is it?” I asked tentatively.
“Ambrose is e’er so sorrowful,” she started.
“But he’s okay?” Relief flooded me; he’d gotten back to his mom somehow. Ambrose was fine—even if he was still dead. What an odd, and sad, way to be reassured.
She nodded. Up close, Mrs. Viccars—Elizabeth—looked a lot younger than both of my parents. She shifted and smoothed the folds of her thick dress. “Prithee, Ambrose doth want to show ye. Yet he shall understand if thou didst hesitate to follow him e’er again.”
“Where?”
“If thou wouldst meet him in the woods, yonder where thy mother goeth. Knowest thou the place?”
I nodded. She must mean where I’d bumped into Ambrose by the Grandmother Vine. “I think so.”
She smiled. “Aye, he is there this morrow. Waiting.”
“I’ll go there,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Nay—grammercy.” She reached out for me, instinctively. But then she pulled back her hand, and I realized that I had never touched Ambrose—our fingers hadn’t brushed when we were exchanging the flask; I never clapped him on the shoulder when he did something cool or punched him lightly in the same spot if he did something stupid. And he’d always stopped himself before shaking hands or anything with me. Could that be part of being a ghost—not being able to have contact with living people anymore? How lonely. I hoped he could at least give his ghost mom a hug.
“Verily, thy companionship hath meant the world to him. I thank thee, Nell.” She paused for a moment, before adding, “Eleanor would be so proud. Methinks Virginia, too.” Then she waved and walked around the corner of the blacksmith building. I peeked behind after her, to see where she was heading. She was already gone.
I stepped out of the shade and back into the sunlight, thinking about what she’d said. Eleanor and Virginia Dare? So Ambrose must have told his mom about them being my ancestors.
I crunched along the wood-chip path, on my way to meet Lila. As I passed by the lathe guy, he gave me a funny look. “You were having quite the conversation there, huh?” I was confused until I realized he had seen only me standing at the corner of the building—and not Ambrose’s mom on the other side, to whom I’d been talking.
I patted my ear. “Wireless!”
“Aha! You can really never tell these days. Here I thought you were talking to a ghost.” Little did he know.
• • •
“Where were you?” Lila stood outside the entrance, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently on the pavement. “I’ve
been waiting forever! We don’t have all day.”
“Relax! I know exactly where we need to go next.”
Lila raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
I nodded. “Ambrose’s mother told me.”
She sucked in her breath. “She’s here? I want to see her! Oh, let me get out my EMF detector.” As she fumbled with her backpack, I put out my hand to stop her.
“Hold on, she’s already gone.” Lila dropped her hands and pouted. “She appeared only to tell me where to find him.”
“This is so unfair—I’ve been trying to encounter a ghost for years and years.” Lila stamped her foot.
“Maybe you can meet Ambrose,” I said. “Follow me.”
Lila told me on the way to the vine that she’d always gotten her highest EMF readings along its road. “There are lots of haunted places on the island,” she said. “But I never seriously thought that particular one had anything to do with the lost colonists. To think of all the time I’ve spent there and I had no idea . . . I mean, I bike past on my way to go swimming!”
But that’s true, right? Sometimes it’s the places we think we know the best that hold the most secrets: our streets, our backyards, and even our homes.
We left our bikes in a heap alongside the edge of the road. Lila started tramping into the woods right behind me, but I stopped her.
“Maybe you should wait here,” I said, motioning to the vine.
“Are you kidding? And miss out on this?” She tightened her fingers around the EMF detector. “No way.”
“Lila, Ambrose has always conveniently disappeared whenever you’ve come around. He thinks we’re sworn frenemies. He might hide if I don’t talk to him first. I don’t really know the rules about when I can see him and when I can’t. Obviously, he let your dad see him once or twice. But we don’t know why.”
Lila chewed on her bottom lip, thinking it over. “You’re probably right. But please, please come find me after you explain. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”
Summer of Lost and Found Page 17
