Impossible

by Nancy Werlin

  Miranda's mother, Deirdre Scarborough, born in Lowell, Massachusetts.

  Deirdre's mother, Joanne Scarborough, born in Peterborough, New Hampshire.

  Joanne's mother, Ruth Scarborough, also born in Peterborough, New Hampshire.

  The birth certificates showed that each mother had her daughter when she was eighteen years old, and unmarried. He was unable to go further, but five generations (when you included Miranda and Lucy) … well. That was pretty substantial evidence.

  Zach took the information to Soledad. And two days later, they knew that for both Deirdre Scarborough and Joanne Scarborough, there was also a record of sporadic hospitalization for mental problems, first occurring shortly after the births.

  "Five women in a row," Zach said, at another family meeting. "Maybe I can find more. The librarian thinks if we keep going, we might be able to locate Ruth's mother. We've been lucky with the short generations, because the further back you go, the harder it gets. But the deal with Ruth's mother is that there's nothing on her in New Hampshire or Massachusetts, so we'd have to look in other states. And if that fails, we'd try other countries. Ireland, to start." He glanced at Lucy, who was curled up in a corner of the sofa. He couldn't read her expression.

  "Scotland is also a possibility," said Leo. "Then the rest of Britain. Those are the most likely origins of the ballad." He paused. "I wish we could go all the way back and find some trace of Fenella Scarborough, but I don't see how."

  Soledad shrugged. She had said earlier that five generations was quite enough for her. She wanted to forget genealogy now, and concentrate instead on solving the puzzle from the ballad. Given that her doubts about the curse came and went, at least the puzzle was something to focus on.

  "Good work," Leo said to Zach.

  Zach shrugged. He couldn't feel good about what he'd found. If only it had turned out that, say, Miranda had been Deirdre's third child with her grocer husband, and they'd had to put Miranda in foster care because of some family emergency, and then Joanne had had Deirdre at forty-two, because of—because of—oh, whatever.

  "Apparently," Zach said, "we got lucky with the name Scarborough, that it wasn't Jones or Miller or something. Also, the librarian was wondering why nobody adopted any of the baby girls and changed their names. She thought that was amazing. She said it would have been much harder, and maybe impossible, to track them down if that had been the case."

  "Maybe nobody wanted a little girl whose mother was crazy." Lucy's face was impassive, and her voice calm, but she had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa, and her arms tightly folded over her stomach, so that she occupied an amazingly small amount of space. "So, how did they grow up? Orphanages? Foster homes, like Miranda?"

  "I don't know," Zach had to admit. "I wasn't looking for those kinds of records. I could ask the librarian. Maybe the state archives would have something, if state departments like social welfare, or whatever, were involved."

  Lucy said, "Maybe I don't want to know."

  They were silent a moment.

  Soledad said finally, "I was thinking that Joanne—Lucy's great-grandmother—would be only seventy-two, if she were still alive."

  "And Ruth would be ninety," said Leo. "It's theoretically possible that they're both alive."

  "Living on the street or in an institution doesn't lend itself to longevity." Lucy's voice was soft. And still calm. She got up from the sofa. "I guess I'll go on back upstairs."

  "Wait," said Zach. "There's one more thing."

  She didn't look at him, of course. But she settled herself back onto the sofa. It was then that Zach had told them what else he'd been researching.

  "I realized the other day that I can't just go back to Williams like everything is normal. I want to stay here this fall. I can help out."

  "That's good of you, Zach," Soledad began. "But college—"

  "Is not urgent," Zach said. "I've already checked with my parents. They want me to take some courses at U-Mass and transfer the credits later. I can do that. And I found out today that I can also keep my job and get all the hours I want this fall. All this is fine with Williams too. Lots of people take a break for a semester or two. There's no reason for me not to stay right here."

  He spoke directly to Leo and Soledad now. "I was thinking that I'd start paying you some rent. I know you guys said no to that when I came originally, but it feels important to me to contribute." He glanced at Lucy for a bare instant. She was watching her hands. "Of course, if you guys tell me to leave, I will. But I want to stay."

  Halfway through this speech, Soledad grabbed a tissue. She blew her nose and then gave Zach one of the biggest, wettest smiles he'd ever seen.

  Leo looked at Zach for a long steady minute. "I'm in favor of you staying, Zach. Except for the rent part. We don't need that. Soledad?"

  Soledad hiccupped and nodded. "Right. Oh, Zach."

  Leo turned to Lucy. "It's up to you, Lucy. What do you think?"

  Zach had to strain to hear Lucy's voice. "Well … when you asked your parents if you could stay on here, what did you tell them?"

  I told them I was crazy in love with you and that I had to hang around because you needed me to fight some old Elfin Knight curse.

  "They know you're pregnant, of course. I just said you and Soledad and Leo needed your friends now. That you treated me like family and I wanted to act like family. That it's what a friend would do." He willed her to look at him directly. "Is it all right, Lucy? Can I stay?"

  "Yes," Lucy said. "Stay." Her eyelashes flickered then—she almost looked at him—and she murmured something under her breath.

  Zach leaned in. "Excuse me? Could you say that again?"

  Lucy was grinning. "Stay. Good dog!"

  Leo and Soledad laughed, and if it was forced, it nonetheless felt good to hear.

  Zach walked three steps over to where Lucy sat on the sofa. He squatted directly in front of her. "If I'm a dog," he said, "I'm not a good, obedient one. More like a pit bull."

  Startled, Lucy looked straight at him. He looked straight back at her.

  And Zach saw then what lay beneath Lucy's calm and determination and humor, all of which she had pulled around her like a cloak. It was a sea of aloneness and bewilderment and terror that promised to smash and drown anyone else who came near.

  But he wouldn't let his gaze fall away from hers.

  CHAPTER 35

  "Soledad?" Padraig Seeley stepped inside Soledad's office in the arrogant way he always did. "I want to talk to you about the Thanksgiving family program for the teen fathers." He closed the door behind him.

  Soledad looked up from her computer and controlled her impatience. "I emailed you about that, Padraig. I don't have a lot of time right now. Actually, I was just working on a memo. I'll be working reduced hours for a while. Jacqueline is going to take over your programs."

  Padraig sat down across from Soledad's desk and crossed his legs. "I'm disappointed. But I know how much pressure you're under at home." His beautiful voice dropped an octave. "I could help more than you realize. I have experience in administration. And I wouldn't at all mind coming to your home, say, once a week. That would make things so much easier for you."

  His eyes were now fixed on Soledad's. And all at once she felt calmer, less harried. He was making sense, she thought fuzzily.

  "I would so like to help you, Soledad," Padraig said. His voice was hypnotic.

  "I do need help," Soledad found herself saying.

  "Yes. If Lucinda were my daughter, I wouldn't be able to concentrate on work at all. I'd be so anxious about her and her pregnancy. And all the pressure she must be under. Isn't she back at school now? That must be hard for her. Senior year. All her friends around her, making plans for college and their futures, while her life has changed so much. I wonder if she's starting to feel isolated and alone. And probably a little scared. Is Lucinda feeling scared, Soledad?"

  "Yes," said Soledad. "I think she is." Now she was feeling so comfortable, talking to Padrai
g. So warm, so reassured. There was no reason to be on guard with him. She could tell him anything. In fact, she ought to tell him everything … anything he wanted to know …

  He smiled. "I thought so. Now, it's been a while since we've had a chance to talk about Lucinda. Is she showing?"

  "A little, if you know how to look."

  "I'll judge for myself, when I come over to your home and see her. Now, what's happening at school for her? Have you told her teachers, the principal, yet? The baby will be coming in February. They'll have to know."

  "No, we haven't told them. Not officially. But Lucy has told her friends. They're being very supportive. Especially her friend Sarah. And Zach, of course. Though he's not at school with her anymore."

  "Oh, yes. Zachary Greenfield. That college boy who was living with you this summer."

  "Yes, that's Zach," said Soledad. "He and Lucy have always been like brother and sister. I think Lucy finds him a great comfort. I know that Leo and I do too. Zach's so smart and so solid."

  Padraig frowned. "But Zachary has gone back to college, right?"

  "Oh, no."

  Padraig uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

  "Zach decided to take this semester off from college. He felt that he could be of use to us and to Lucy, so he's keeping his summer job into the fall and taking a couple of courses at U-Mass. He can transfer the credits to Williams later on."

  Padraig sat straight up. "Just a minute. What exactly—"

  There was a knock at the door, a loud one. It was immediately followed by the door opening and Jacqueline entering in a whirlwind. "Padraig? I thought I saw you go in here. I've got Tommy McClendon from the South Boston Teen Center on the line. If you could just finalize a time for you and me to meet with him, that would be great. Take the call at my desk."

  Padraig said in his soothing voice, "No, Jacqueline, it would be better if I call him back after I talk with Soledad—"

  Jacqueline gave Padraig a playful push. "That won't work. Tommy McClendon is almost impossible to get on the phone. You have to pin him down to a meeting right now." She laughed. "Do as I say, get up, there's a good boy. Soledad doesn't have any time for you right now anyway. She has another meeting."

  "I do?" said Soledad vaguely.

  "Case review. It starts in five minutes. You don't mind if I hang out with you for it? My office is like Grand Central Station today. Plus Padraig needs my phone to talk to Tommy." Jacqueline pushed Padraig again. Meanwhile, someone else looked in at the door and said, "Case review?"

  "Yes, yes," said Jacqueline.

  The fogginess began to recede from Soledad's mind. It was a virtual meeting that Jacqueline was talking about; she needed to log onto the meeting website on her computer. It was a good thing Jacqueline had come in to remind her. She had altogether too much to do today.

  Padraig was still looking at Soledad. She shrugged at him. "Sorry, Padraig. Jacqueline's right, we have this meeting. Just go ahead and do what she says from now on."

  "Yes," said Jacqueline. "Perfect." She sat down solidly in the chair Padraig had vacated. "Would you shut the door on your way out?"

  CHAPTER 36

  At seven a.m. on a Saturday at the beginning of October, when Lucy had been back at school for slightly over a month, Soledad knocked on her bedroom door and came in as soon as Lucy responded.

  "I've got everything all set up for us in the dining room," Soledad said. "I've done so much experimenting with felting that I'm ready to scream. But I'm finally ready, so today's the day you're going to do it. Then we can check the seamless shirt off the list and move on to that piece of land thing. Between the salt water and the sea strand. Have you been thinking some more about how to solve that one? I know Zach and Leo have been working on it too."

  "Yes," Lucy said. She sat up cautiously and swung her feet out of bed, the very movement reminding her, as always these days, of how rapidly her body was changing. It felt so different now even to shift physical positions. But at least she was no longer bothered by nausea. She had just learned it was wise to wait a minute or two in the morning between sitting up and standing. "I'm thinking about it."

  She did not add: And I'm going in circles. She knew that Soledad was so excited by her promising seamless shirt research that she had not yet taken in the full illogical weirdness and difficulty of tasks two and three. Or two, three, and four, depending on how you counted.

  Lucy had been sleepless for many nighttime hours, thinking the tasks over. Her mind would return to the same ruts even when she was so desperately tired it was almost unbelievable that she didn't simply keel over.

  Find an acre of farm land located between the salt water and sea strand. The dictionary said the sea strand was the land at the edge of the water. Between the edge of the water and the water? Huh? Well, suppose Lucy could find an acre of land located next to the ocean on a peninsula. That would mean there was an edge of the sea on one side, and salt water on the other. Would that work? It seemed to fit the task on a literal level.

  But was it cheating? Because you might say that the entire continent of North America was between the salt water and the sea strand, if you defined it that way. On the other hand, maybe it wasn't cheating. Maybe it was being clever. Was clever allowed?

  Okay. Suppose she could locate a little seaside peninsula. Wasn't waterfront property very expensive? Lucy only had her personal college savings. She could borrow money from Soledad and Leo, of course, but was that, again, cheating? If so, it was a different kind of cheating from being clever about wording and definitions. It would sort of be like letting things be done for her. By someone else.

  The ballad strongly implied that she was supposed to do everything herself. Even Soledad thought that, or she'd have already gone and made the seamless shirt on Lucy's behalf. Maybe, Lucy thought, she wasn't even supposed to have help in the form of advice. Maybe she was already doomed for that reason?

  No. There was nothing in the ballad about that.

  Supposing she could just find the seaside peninsula acre. Next, she would have to plow the land using a goat's horn. She'd locate a goat's horn someplace. That really ought to be possible, even if she had to buy a whole live goat and then, well, operate. Ugh. She made a mental note to search eBay first.

  Lucy understood plowing, in principal. She could drag the horn along the ground, using the point to turn up the earth. It sounded quite possible, if potentially physically taxing.

  But then came the sowing of the earth using one grain of corn. Sowing meant seeding. Would you grind up the tiny piece of corn into very fine bits? But then it wouldn't seed properly, right? Would it count if what you seeded could never grow? Or would the sowing alone satisfy the task in a literal way—again, being clever?

  Zach wanted to sit down with her and go over every possibility, every nuance. Find the land. Find the goat. Whatever. And she did plan to talk with him about it. She couldn't go on avoiding Zach. All right, so she didn't have a clue what to say to him, or how to look at him, or how to respond to the way he now looked at her. But she had to get over it. And if she went to him and they talked, not about love, but about plowing and sowing. …

  Except, if you wanted to be clever about plowing and sowing, not to mention the goat's horn, there was a bawdy interpretation that could mean—

  Lucy felt herself blush. Would Zach have thought of this? Would her parents? Or was it just her?

  She had talked to her parents about tasks two and three. Soledad said things like "do some more Googling" and "modern technology" and "once we talk to a couple of farmers." And Leo, the ballad expert, felt strongly that being "clever" was certainly not cheating. He had even put a query out to a rabbi friend about obtaining a shofar, a kind of musical instrument that was made out of a ram's horn and used on Yom Kippur. "Isn't a ram just a male goat?" he'd asked.

  "No," Soledad said. "I can't believe you think that! A ram is a sheep. A goat is a goat."

  "The males are billy goats," Lucy a
greed.

  Leo grimaced. "I might ask the rabbi anyway. Maybe a Jewish religious supply shop would have goats' horns too. Or know how to get them."

  "Why would they? It's not the right thing to make a shofar with," Soledad said.

  "It's worth asking," Leo said stubbornly.

  This conversation had not exactly inspired Lucy with confidence on the goat horn issue. On the other hand, Soledad's certainty about the seamless shirt was reassuring.

  "There's just no way that my plan can fail," Soledad was saying now, as she leaned against Lucy's bureau. "After all, that Elfin Knight wouldn't have known about washing machines!"

  "Or duct tape." Actually, the duct tape was just incidental, used for making the dressmaker's dummy on which the actual seamless shirt, made of felt, would be formed. But Lucy liked saying the words duct tape. They were so reassuringly mundane.

  "We can skip the duct tape part," said Soledad. "I've figured out another way."

  "Oh." Lucy was somehow disappointed.

  She began to get up, only to find Pierre lying on the floor in her way. She pressed one toe lightly to his side, and he shuffled over obligingly so that she had just enough floor space in which to stand. She felt Soledad's eyes on her, checking the small bulge at her stomach beneath the pajama top. She turned away to fumble into her bathrobe. "Okay, Mom, I just need fifteen minutes to shower and get dressed."

  Soledad nodded. "Sure. But I want to get the whole shirt shaped by afternoon and in the washing machine as soon as possible afterward, so the fibers can set. Also, Padraig Seeley from work is coming by in the afternoon. He insisted he needs to talk to me personally."

  "I can never tell if you like that guy or not," Lucy said idly.

  Soledad smiled brightly. "I do, very much. But he's a huge time sink. Every time I turn around, he wants a meeting. And then suddenly two hours have disappeared on me, and I didn't get done whatever else it was that I planned to do, and I can't even remember much of what Padraig and I talked about. This happens at least once a week." Soledad sighed. "I suppose it doesn't hurt that he looks how he looks, though. Maybe I get lost in staring at him and that's where all the time goes."