“I like facts and behavior to drive my conclusions.”
“I get that.” She grabbed a small twig from the mulch bed and started scratching at the sidewalk.
They didn’t talk for a while. He wanted to tell her how he liked her use of the word contracted but resisted. His dad sometimes gave him a hard time for being such a ‘word nerd.’
“Hey, look.” Lou perked up and pointed over at his yard. “Tally-Ho is on the move.”
The squirrel scampered up onto Nelson’s porch, then leapt off it. It did that two more times.
Lou laughed. “Is that how he gets you to come out?”
“Yes.”
Tally-Ho abandoned his porch routine and took long hops through the grass. He dashed onto the sidewalk and looked all around. When he spotted Nelson sitting on the porch across the street, the squirrel bounced in place.
The rodent rocketed toward them.
At the same moment, a truck going too fast through the development flew down the street.
Nelson jumped to his feet and vaulted into the grass. “No, stop!”
The driver hit the brakes, and the squirrel froze in place. Unfortunately, the front right tire went up and over Tally-Ho, producing a solid thump.
Nelson checked for any other cars and then raced over to his friend.
The driver, a man with a gray beard, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, exited the cab and walked toward the scene of the carnage.
Nelson dropped to his knees and crawled under the front bumper.
He heard Lou speak to the driver. “Turn the engine off!”
“Yeah.” The man leaned down and tapped at Nelson’s shoe. “Hey, kid. It’s okay.”
Lou said something to the man, but their conversation receded into the background, becoming just a muffled back and forth.
Tally-Ho wasn’t moving. Nelson didn’t dwell on what parts were flattened and what parts looked whole. Instead, he focused on his friend’s still bushy tail, not willing to look the glorious overeater in the eyes.
Why had he gone over to Lou’s porch? He knew the squirrel ventured out of the yard, but he felt to blame for this expedition. He wiped at his leaking eyes. Everything felt slow-moving, his mind foggy.
Lou’s voice cut through the fog. “Here, use these.”
She handed him two one-gallon plastic bags from out of nowhere. Likely, she had raced back to her house to fetch them and he’d just not registered her absence. Very possible considering how dazed he felt. He slid his hands into them and picked up his friend. He scooted backwards out from under the truck and looked at the driver’s hands. They were trembling.
“I’m sorry, kid. I just didn’t react fast enough.”
Being older, the man had a reduced reaction time. It wasn’t his fault, exactly. Although, he should’ve tried obeying the speed limit. Nelson wanted to blurt that out, but he felt Lou nudging his elbows, urging him to get out of the roadway. He pulled his left elbow away, but he let her keep touching the other. Her skin wasn’t as soft as fur, but at least it wasn’t dry and flaky like most people’s.
The man followed them, apologizing two more times.
Lou said to the truck driver, “It’s okay. Nelson and I’ll take care of him.”
Nelson watched his parents burst out of the front door and run toward him. They moved in slow motion. They drew close but didn’t touch him. His mom’s gaze did travel to his elbow cradled in Lou’s hand, and she let out a gasp.
I know, Mom. It’s as uncomfortable as you’re imagining. Only he really didn’t think that way. He would push Lou away if she went in for a hug or tried to wipe away his tears, but this little contact was okay.
His father insisted on taking Tally-Ho out of his hands. He didn’t protest. His stomach was churning. The squirrel smelled different and not in a good way.
He threw up on his porch steps as Lou and his dad escorted Tally-Ho around the side of the house.
Nelson wished he’d ignored Lou. Going over to visit her had set off this horrible chain of events.
****
Lou arrived a few minutes early for the funeral. She wore a simple black dress that came to her knees. His parents stayed inside, a condition his mom had argued against, but when he’d asked for Lou to be present instead, they’d mysteriously stopped insisting on attending.
He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know they were watching from the kitchen window.
He held the spade diagonally across his chest as if it were a ceremonial sword. The small shoebox in his right hand was lighter than when it had arrived holding his size 8 brown hiking sneakers. He wore black shorts, the aforementioned shoes, and a white button-down shirt his mom had washed fourteen times before he’d declared it no longer too stiff. The material in the cuffs were thicker than the rest of the shirt, but he’d decided he could live with that.
Lou held a bouquet of ‘flowers’ she’d picked from her backyard. He’d be sure to tell her later that dandelions were really classified as weeds.
They stood by the side of his dad’s work shed. He handed her Tally-Ho, knowing she’d agreed to hold him as he’d texted her a checklist of the ceremony and she hadn’t refused any part of her role.
He dropped to one knee and scraped away the gravel. He then dug a grave. A few minutes later, Lou placed the box inside the hole. She took a handful of dirt and tossed it on the lid, wishing Tally-Ho many nuts in his afterlife.
Nelson sprinkled his dirt and said his goodbye only with his lips and not any actual vocalizations. Goodbye, my friend. I wish I could’ve given you the Viking funeral you deserved, but Dad still doesn’t trust me around fire since the Bunsen burner incident.
He scraped the excess dirt back into the grave, producing a slight mound when he was done. They both gathered up their assigned stones until he held a handful of blue ones and she cradled the whites in hers. They then spent a long time placing the rocks in the pattern he’d texted her. In the end, his blue stones formed a backdrop for the white infinity symbol Lou laid out on top.
“I’m sorry, Nelson.”
He nodded and closed his eyes. If another squirrel moved in, he’d welcome it with open arms and maybe train it from an early age that the road was lava. He thought back to the volcano game his dad had played with him constantly for the first few years. Only when he’d researched volcanoes thoroughly in second grade and pointed out that the game was misleading and taught children to believe they could survive stepping lightly on hot molten rock had he stopped playing.
“What’s going on?” Lou said.
He opened his eyes. “What?”
She pointed at the stones. “Do you see it?” Her voice sounded fragile.
“It’s infinity.”
She looked upset. Her mouth twisted into a grimace, and he noted her raised eyebrows. He just as quickly looked away and back at the grave.
“You don’t see like a ghost version of Tally-Ho sitting in the middle of the stones? Sort of milky and see-through?”
“What?”
She raised her voice and waved her pointer finger with even more intensity. “This is crazy. There’s a ghost squirrel sitting right there. You really don’t see it?”
He worried her frantic movements would draw his parents out to check in. But what could he do to calm her down? She was clearly hallucinating. Had she not gotten enough water throughout the course of the day? Maybe a sunset funeral had been a bad idea. Was she taking any medications and seeing furry ghosts was one of the side effects? “There’s nothing there.”
“Oh, no. He’s floating upward and he’s staring at me.” She drew her small fists together under her chin.
He looked at the exact spot in the air her eyes seemed to be tracking. Nothing.
Lou gasped. “He spoke.”
What?
Her eyes roved upward as if watching a balloon escaping.
She dropped to her knees and stared at the grave. “He’s gone.”
Nelson didn’t feel equipped to handle he
r. “I didn’t hear or see anything.”
She dug the heels of her fists into her eye sockets, rubbing hard. “You know what he said?”
“He used words?”
“Yes, it wasn’t like out loud. It was more like his voice was in my head.”
“Telepathy?”
She shrugged and continued, “He said, ‘You are the hero.’ What does that mean?”
Nelson didn’t understand what was going on. Logic dictated she’d imagined it, but she was dead serious.
“Do you believe me?” Lou asked.
He reached out, and his fingertips grazed the top of her head. “I do.”
Chapter 6
Hugo Records the Uncanny
They had a system. Hugo called out a color, and Katie rolled that particular piece of sidewalk chalk to him. He’d draw the shape—this time a rhombus—and then call her over to color the polygon in. Since she was only three, they held the chalk together as she colored. He applied the pressure, and she moved it all about. This fourth shape was new to Katie, so he wasn’t sure if she had it down.
“Say it again, Katie.”
“Whombus.”
“Rhombus.” He’d been working on helping her with her Rs for the past few weeks, and she was getting better.
She concentrated, sending him an eager-to-please look. “Whrombus. It’s blue.”
Hugo let go of the chalk and clapped in a circle. Katie also abandoned the piece and imitated his motion. She missed half her claps.
Hugo gave his sister a high five and then stood. “Let us survey our work.” He waved at the sidewalk and then put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest.
Katie stood and struck the same pose, more or less. Hers was much cuter because she wobbled when she put her hands on her hips.
Three other shapes took up the walkway leading to their back porch.
He pointed to the farthest one done in yellow and gave Katie an expectant look.
She snorted and grinned. “Twiangle.”
He bowed in her direction. Hugo pointed to the next shape.
“Gween square.”
He’d been working with her to recite up to three things with each object. She usually got the color and shape. He bowed deeper this time and then pointed to the unnamed polygon next to their freshly completed rhombus.
Katie opened her mouth wide as if surprised and then smiled. “Red optagon.” She paused, then abruptly waved her arms about and grabbed at the air. “Like an octwapus.”
He moved closer and let one of her pretend tentacles crab-pinch his shoulder. “Zounds, I’m doomed. The dreaded octopus of Elm Street has me in her clutches. What will she do? I hope for just a sweet eight-tentacle hug.”
Katie laughed, already reacting to what she would do next. “No, eat you up.” She took several bites out of the air and made some adorable chomping sounds.
He foiled her plan by escaping. He then rushed her and swept her tiny toddler frame up in his arms. He hoisted her high in the air, a move his mom always scolded him over.
“Get Mom and Dad and show.” She pointed at their chalk drawings.
“They’re not home, silly. They’re having brunch.” He set her down, and she stomped all about in the rhombus, getting blue chalk dust all over the bottoms and sides of her white sneakers.
“Bwunch.”
His parents were on their once-a-month Sunday brunch date. He always gave them a hard time over participating in such an old people event like brunch. His dad would always hunch over and act like he was motoring about with a cane. This sparked Katie to laugh—what didn’t?—and Hugo to roll his eyes. Ageist much, Pops?
Hugo actually looked forward to the two hours spent solo with his sister. It was just enough time for him to impart some wisdom, and not so much that they could land themselves in true trouble. His parents had been delighted with what Katie was learning on his watch. ‘What little munchkin knows geometry at three?’ his mom had said recently. Wait till she blows you away with knowing her newest shape, he thought.
“Got an idea.” He was about to wave for her to follow him inside but realized she’d track blue dust all through the first floor if he did. And he’d only be gone for like a split second. It didn’t make sense to go get a wet paper towel and clean her feet and then have her tag along. It would take him just as long to go inside to get the paper towel as it would to run his errand. He looked about the fenced-in yard, checking that the gate was latched. “BRB.” He dashed onto the back deck and ducked in the house. He raced to the playroom, fetched the helmet, and was back outside in under ten seconds. Katie sat on the bottom step, patting the rhombus and then inspecting her palms for how much blue chalk dust she’d transferred onto each.
“It’s GoPro time.” The small camera was mounted on his sister’s tiny helmet. Normally, Hugo had it fastened to his and performed daredevil acts that he recorded and posted on YouTube. His parents didn’t know this, and it wasn’t all that big a deal. He’d only uploaded six videos so far, and his exploits had been witnessed by just four followers. He hadn’t recorded any new stunts in over a month, since he’d moved it over to Katie’s headgear for her to record herself, mostly her dancing.
She reached for her helmet.
He smiled. “Ready to boogie on the shapes?”
She hopped and snagged the strap. “Boogie!”
He slid the helmet down on her head and snapped the head straps together, making sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose. Katie stood and marched in place mostly because he placed his hand on her chest and held her back from parading all over their handiwork just yet.
He had a stroke of genius. “March in place to the count of ten and then I’ll be back with Red Lightning.”
Katie’s eyes went wide. She definitely knew what was about to happen.
He streaked up the steps and to the door.
“Wecord now.” She stood.
“Not yet.”
She started walking away. He rethought his plan.
Hugo ran down the steps and scooped her up. He set her on the bottom step and hit the record button. “It’s recording now. I’ll know if you get up while I’m gone. Sit still and I’ll bring you a piece of candy, okay?”
Katie gripped the sides of her helmet. “Won’t move.”
“I’ll be back by the count of ten.” He walked backward to the door and then said to his sister, “Start counting . . . now.”
“One.”
He bolted inside.
“Two.”
He dashed into the garage and grabbed his skateboard. She loved lying on her belly and being pushed short distances. He thought it would make a fun way to show off their chalk drawings. He fled back inside the house and opened the pantry. He couldn’t see his sister but could still hear her counting.
“Seven.”
He grabbed a tiny chocolate bar from the sweets stash on the high shelf and then zipped past the breakfast nook and back out the door.
“Eight.”
“I’m back.”
“Nine, ten.” She twisted around, still on the bottom step. “I did it. Gimmee.”
Hugo staggered forward, shocked at what he saw.
The weird statue was back, standing on the green octagon, mere feet from his sister.
“What?”
Katie held out a hand. “Candy.”
He dropped his skateboard, rushed over to Katie, and picked her up, all the while not taking his eyes off the statue.
After wiping the chalk dust from her hands with his shirt, he unwrapped the chocolate and handed it to his sister.
He wanted to be careful not to upset her. “Katie, did someone come into the yard and leave the little stone statue behind?” Please say a boy with glasses or a tall girl with pretty eyes.
She took another bite. “Nope. He walked over.”
“What?”
She finished off the chocolate.
His mind reeled. He’d been half joking with Lou about the idea that the statue had walke
d off. Now he wasn’t so sure.
“Katie, who dropped off the statue?”
“No, he came himself. Walky.” She squirmed and reached toward the statuary. If he let her down, she’d probably run over and hug it. He wasn’t sure he wanted her touching it.
The GoPro knocked against his chin.
Wait, she’d been recording. He tapped the top button on the camera to end the session. That would allow it to be accessible through the app.
He set her down in the deck chair farthest from the steps. “Stay still.”
She didn’t protest as she was too busy licking her fingers clean.
He pulled up the GoPro app on his phone and retrieved the newest video.
He glanced at the statue, relieved to see it hadn’t moved. He’d almost expected it to have mysteriously advanced onto one of the steps.
Hugo watched the video. A bobbing playback of the sidewalk appeared. The shot swept suddenly to the deck. Katie was checking on if he’d returned already. Her counting was the only audible sound.
The camera again focused on the sidewalk. It dipped down to feature the rhombus. When it bobbed upward again, the statue was suddenly standing on the sidewalk just inside the closed gate. Katie obviously saw it because she gurgled a hello.
Hugo watched as the statue took a shaky step forward.
Katie said, “Four.”
The statue took two more steps, both much more confident and swifter than its first shaky stride.
“Five.”
The statue moved even faster, crossing the octagon and square.
“Six.”
It leapt over the triangle to land dead center in the rhombus. It drew up a finger to its mouth to shush Katie and quickly dropped it down, going stock still with its hands once again outstretched to invite birds to bathe.
“Seven.”
He stopped the video, knowing the rest was of him snatching up his sister and feeding her chocolate.
Katie wiggled to the point where he had to pluck her from the rickety chair and set her down. He pocketed his phone, resisting the urge to watch the video again. She scrambled over to Red Lightning and plopped down on the skateboard. “Ride.”
Heroes of Perpetua Page 7
