Ghost of a Shadow Read online

  He felt something under his arms, working against gravity, pull him up.

  Floundering in liquid space, Finn tried repeatedly to free his arms and legs. His strength waned, and he had no choice but to give in, letting whatever it was do its thing. His lungs burned; he longed for huge gulps of fresh air.

  The slamming of the metal door ended the pain, and he drew a deep breath. He was back in his cupboard of a room, another shock treatment over and done. He knew it, even though he’d received no communication to that effect. Experience was a good teacher.

  He thought back to the light and liquid space, and let the feelings overtake him again. They were neither dreams, nor side effects, but actual memories. The strength of this knowing was clear and visceral. He was finally remembering things!

  This is good! This is a step forward, and I’ll use it. It could be the answer to so many things.

  He jumped to his feet, but the throbbing in his head forced him to the floor, where he resembled a crime-scene chalk drawing.

  From that position, he did what any sane person would: he laughed. He couldn’t wait until his next treatment, when more memories might come.

  Not so fast, kiddo. It’s time to roll on down the road. Let’s make like a tree and leave this place behind!

  You again? You know you’re not all that bright. I could do with a little less you, Mr. Helpful.

  Not all that bright! And as far as helpful, why do you think you’re so happy right now?

  I was until you showed up.

  Nice socks, the Voice told him. Meant to tell you. Now on to the real work. Remember when I explained how you’d have to perform after your treatment? Well, it’s show time, buddy! It’s the only way we’re going to get out of here.

  Are you kidding? I remembered something real. Finally…for the first time—and you want me to leave here now?

  It’s time to get us the hell out of here, and to do that, you have to play normal. Think you can do that for us?

  What’s this “us” about? And why would I want to get out of here now, when I’m just starting to remember things?

  Listen up—I’m only going to say this once. All we needed was to kick-start your memory. Now that it’s happened, any more will damage you and ruin your chances to take control of things. Get me, buddy boy?

  Finn had some choice responses he wanted to voice, but he couldn’t doubt the truth he heard.

  Yeah, I guess. So now what?

  Good. Just do normal. You’ve done it before; now do it again. Break a leg and see you down the road a piece.

  When? Finn thought, too eagerly, but the Voice was gone.

  He knew how to do this. He’d played “their normal” for the parent people. He’d known just what they wanted and how to deliver. But this time he couldn’t screw up. These were “professionals.” It was the tiny details they liked.

  The steel door creaked. A nurse stood in the archway, checking her chart, while two bulky aides stood behind her.

  “How are you doing today, Winn?”

  He bristled. “My name’s Finn…” He took a deep breath before adding, “Ma’am. I’m doing well. Thank you, Nurse…” He quickly glanced at her badge. “Tindle. Nurse Tindle. How are you doing today?” He smiled, forcing his teeth to show a bit. I hope this isn’t too much.

  Nurse Tindle’s eyes grew large. She looked from one of her aides to the other, then back to Finn. “I’m fine.” Her tone suggested she wasn’t sure of him yet. “Thank you for asking, Finn. I’ll be back to check on you this afternoon.”

  “Okay. See you soon,” and he waved a little. Not too much.

  Idiots. Take that, Mr. Helpful. I’d like to see you perform half as well!

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Field of Rose

  Early Saturday morning, Sadie’s mom, hands on hips, fussed at her husband and daughter to hurry up and get in the car.

  “Tess, do you really think this is a good idea? It’s not the best time for me. A whole weekend away makes it hard to catch up with work!”

  “George, your saying it’s not the best time shows me it’s the perfect time. We need this. Sadie and I hardly see you. You’ve been working practically round the clock.”

  Dad grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, caved, and slouched into the driver’s seat.

  “Okay, then, chop, chop.” Mom tossed a large canvas bag stuffed full of beach towels into the back of the car. She flashed her best cheerleader smile.

  Sadie gave a small smile in return and did a quick double check of the contents of her beach bag. I almost admire her hope, but let’s be honest. We all know this is bound to end in a big pile of poo, just like all Mom’s brilliant ideas. Flip-flops: check. Book: check. Misery: check.

  My music box! Oh, no, I left it in my room. “Mom, I’ll be right back.”

  “What now, Sadie? It’s time we got on the road.”

  “I know, but I’ll be back in one minute. I promise!”

  Thank goodness I remembered about my music box before we left. I hate going anywhere without it. Except for school. I never would bring it there—everything is too messed up there now.

  Sadie ran all the way to her room, seeing the state her parents were already in today. At least Mom puts her annoying qualities out there—it’s ridiculous…But Dad? There’s something about him that makes situations like this a little scary. Who knows what he might do at any given moment? I can’t help feel bad for him somehow, though. If I could only tell them about the music box, they might be calmer somehow.

  Ever since Gramma gave it to me, I’ve used it to bring her closer to me, and it’s worked. I’ve sat with it almost every day. When I do, I feel her around me and hear her whispers. That music box was part of her—I’ve heard her voice singing its soothing song to me whenever I’ve played it.

  Sadie used her stepstool to reach the top of the bookshelf, where her music box hid behind her volume of Shakespeare. With the predictable discomfort she was surely in for this weekend, she needed it with her.

  Grabbing it quickly, she brought with it a sheaf of artwork, which fluttered all over the carpeted floor. I don’t have time for this! It looks like a rainbow puked all over the place.

  She glanced out the window in the direction of her parents, toes tapping by now, she guessed. Then she looked at the mess. “Ughhhh!” Steam practically blew out of her ears as her frustration increased. She tucked the music box into her pocket, got onto her knees, and put page after page back into the art folder.

  The last page was so familiar that memories of that day rushed forward in her mind, and they were as clear as those of the day before. She was in kindergarten. Tanner had painted his arms instead of the paper. Lily had run Steven over with the plastic tricycle, and Dillon had sat in the corner, talking to a spider. She remembered when she had taken the piece of paper and sat down. In the center of the paper stood a tall tree with golden branches and leaves like waterfalls. The tree held hands with an alligator that stood straight up on its hind legs. A strong wave of déjà vu washed over her.

  The reptile wore a trench coat of all things and had the coolest sparkly eyes. Sadie recalled the care she’d taken to add just the right amount of glue before dusting on the silvery glitter.

  She was the proudest of that picture, more than any she had painted that year. When she was older, she always wondered, Why the coat? It doesn’t seem to fit…an alligator anyway! Sadie could still hear her mother’s voice asking her, “Why the golden leaves?” which made her a little sad.

  As she stared at the picture, more memories of that kindergarten day returned. Though she had painted the tree and the alligator, they had come alive, appearing between her desk and the chalkboard. She had asked her classmates if they could see them, to which they all replied, “Of course, Sadie. They’re right there on the paper!”

  Sadie smiled and shook her head. How could I have forgotten that? It was absolutely real…I guess?

  After adding her rendition of the tree and
the alligator to the folder with the rest of her artwork, she laid the entire lot on her desk and ran down the hall.

  Mom stood in the doorway, tapping her watch. “Tick-tock, Sadie! Come on already!”

  With her precious music box tucked inside her hoodie pocket, where it wouldn’t be seen, she climbed into the backseat of the car. While Mom locked the front door, Sadie continued her reverie. Still vivid in her mind was the portrait of the tree and the alligator, two friends she thought she knew. Thinking of them gave her comfort.

  Sadie fastened her seat belt, knowing it would be a grumpy ride. In a little more than an hour, they would be at Hunter’s Point Beach. She could almost feel the sand between her toes.

  Mom, the frustrated passenger, and Dad, the distant driver, were in the front, barely talking to each other. Mom at least tried for a while until she gave up with a heavy sigh. Next she flipped on the radio and tuned the dial to an oldies station. The familiar sound of the Beatles filled the car.

  “Can’t Buy Me Love” reminded Sadie of beach trips they used to take when she was younger. The whole family would pile into their old van. Gramma and Aunt Sue sat in the middle row, while Sadie and the twins camped out in the back. Everyone laughed and joked during the whole ride.

  Sadie stared at the back of her parents’ heads. I wonder if they remember how happy we used to be. I can barely remember it anymore myself. She sighed. Mom and Dad were still kind of normal then.

  Dad switched the station to the local news and mumbled something about traffic reports. Though Mom didn’t say anything, Sadie felt the tension thicken in the car. After ruffling around in her bag, she pulled out her copy of Cat’s Cradle and put on her headphones so she could listen to the band, Blind Faith. We’re not even halfway there, and I already don’t want to be here. Honestly, what was Mom thinking? What exactly does she expect from us? Is it Sunday yet?

  Sadie turned up the volume and tried to focus on her book. A few minutes later, Mom tapped her on the knee and made the universal sign for “Take the headphones off.”

  “Sadie, the volume on that thing is way too loud. I called your name five times.”

  Sadie sighed. “Sorry, Mom,”

  “Turn it down, okay? Now take a look to your right. Look how lovely it is!”

  A huge field of flowers stretched out for acres and acres on the right side of the road. Astonishing blooms of many different colors and shapes. Sadie spied the long, delicate vines of her favorite purple morning glories and, behind them, rows of roses. They look so out of place. I don’t remember ever seeing this before.

  Mom pointed to the side of the road. “George, pull over. I want to get a picture.”

  Grumbling, Dad maneuvered the car onto the wide shoulder. Sadie climbed out after her mother. The air outside was warm, humid, and thick with the perfume of thousands of blossoms.

  From their vantage point, Sadie saw pink, red, white, and yellow roses, all in full bloom.

  They make me think of Gramma.

  Then came the familiar whisper.

  Sadie smiled. Gramma’s soft voice called out again, Sweet Sadie. She was getting used to hearing that phrase.

  Just behind a row of bright-pink blossoms, a fine mist swirled and took shape. Sadie recognized Gramma Rose’s silhouette. The shape of her face became clear, as did her smile.

  Sadie glanced at her mother and wondered what good could come of asking her if she could see Gramma. She wanted to but decided it best to keep it to herself. She’d made the mistake of telling her mother she’d seen Gramma a couple of weeks after the funeral. Mom had freaked out and promptly made an appointment for Sadie to see Dr. Goldman. By convincing Mom it was all a misunderstanding, Sadie had squirmed out of the doctor visit.

  Mom snapped several shots with her camera then motioned that it was time for them to get back in the car.

  Sadie glanced over her shoulder and made a faint waving motion. Gramma still watched.

  “Wow, Mom. That’s incredible. How come I don’t remember seeing it before? We’ve taken this trip dozens of times.”

  Mom shrugged. “I’ve never noticed it either, Sadie. Not one time.”

  “Huh…”

  Gramma always knows when I need her. It’s good to know she’s not gone. Maybe she’ll actually talk to me one of these days, instead of just whispering.

  Climbing back inside the air-conditioned car sent a quick shiver down Sadie’s back. She fastened her seat belt once more then took a last look at the field.

  As Dad pulled back onto the highway, Sadie whispered, “Good-bye, Gramma. See you soon.”

  Mom put the lens cover back on her camera then turned around to face Sadie. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile all morning, Sadie.”

  Sadie nodded and smiled again. As they approached a bend in the road, she took one last glance to see Gramma still there, waving.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Off the Charts

  Dr. Llewellyn stopped outside the heavy door behind which patient 58210, Finn Montgomery, was most likely still sleeping. The doctor had just come on shift and wanted to get Finn’s charting done first thing, since it was the boy’s last entry. Beds were needed, and it was a good feeling to move another improved patient to the next stage of care.

  He glanced at page one to remind himself of Finn’s condition upon arrival.

  16 September: Finn Montgomery, patient 58210, age 14, admitted under duress. Complaint details written threats and disturbing drawings of violent fantasies of harming foster parents. Intake interview was difficult in the extreme. Patient is violent and abusive. Patient kicked and screamed. Refused to answer questions. Maximum security required. Restraints imposed. First diagnostic meeting scheduled with psychiatrist tomorrow, 9:00 a.m.

  Dr. Llewellyn flipped to the back of the chart. He read his last few notes prior to adding the final entry.

  28 June: Finn Montgomery, patient 58210, still under observation during therapy. More civil and even friendly on occasion during social interactions. Remains calm in all settings. Schedule includes daily meetings with doctors and group therapy twice per week.

  Other entries were fairly repetitive. Interesting, Dr. Llewellyn thought. There hasn’t been much to say since the end of August. Finn apparently had hit a therapeutic ceiling. He was highly functioning at this point. It was time for him to leave.

  22 October: Finn Montgomery, patient 58210. Thirteen months after initial intake interview. Recommend transfer to Hanover’s secured juvenile detention facility.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Gramma’s Library

  The trip to the beach was a bust. No one talked to each other for most of the weekend. The little talking they did was more in the way of grunts and mumbles. Sadie brought enough books and music with her for just this type of emergency. The interminable hours finally came to an end. After dropping Dad off at home, Mom and Sadie headed for the store to restock the fridge.

  “Wait, Mom. Stop the car. Stop!” Sadie opened the door as the car rolled to the curb.

  “Sadie, what are you doing? You’re scaring me half to death!”

  “I saw Gramma!” Sadie jumped out of the car and ran after her.

  “Sadie. Sadie!” Mom called.

  Sadie had a hard time keeping up. “Gramma! Wait!” Sadie followed the quick-moving figure ahead of her. Gramma darted up alleyways, swiftly turning corners. She appeared in pale blues, purples, and fuchsia. Her feet reminded Sadie of cartoon takeoffs leaving a trail of steam behind. Every time Sadie thought she got a little closer to her, the figure accelerated and rapidly disappeared.

  “Gramma! It’s me, Sadie. Why are you running away?”

  Sadie kept following, trying to keep up. She couldn’t stop, even though she was getting tired and her feet were burning. She wasn’t sure where her mother was and could no longer hear her calls. She knew she’d catch hell from her mom, but she couldn’t miss this opportunity to see Gramma again.

  Gramma entered through a door up ahead
. Sadie hurried to the same spot and read the sign over the door—PAPYRUS STREET BOOK EMPORIUM—before following her inside. Sadie had been in this store before. It was an old bookstore and had the distinct mustiness that only old bookstores have. Even after all the big chain stores had come to the outskirts of town, the emporium, with its rows of old and out-of-print books, had managed to stay open.

  The store was dimly lit except for the light sneaking through the front windows. Sadie scanned the darkened space as she stepped over short stacks of books and maneuvered down the aisle marked ART HISTORY just in time to see Gramma turn the corner. She followed her as fast as she could, reaching the back of the store in a few seconds, but no Gramma. Where could she possibly go?

  “I know I saw her,” she whispered. Blue and green flashes strobed by the time Sadie’s voice died away. They were strong and vivid at first, but after several moments, the flashes began to fade. A few moments more, and they were gone. Sadie’s whole body slumped in disappointment, and she leaned against a bookshelf. “I must be out of my mind,” she muttered.

  Nearby, a rickety table was covered with stacks of newspapers. Although Papyrus Street Book Emporium specialized in old clippings, this part of the store was only a destination for students researching local history. The faded sign identified this section as, OLD TOWN NEWS.

  A faint blue spark danced atop one of the stacks. Sadie took a step forward and shook her head. Why am I here? It can’t be to read some stupid old article. She would give it one more minute, and then she was out of there.

  She picked up the article on the top of the stack. Despite the plastic sleeve, the paper had yellowed with age. A picture of what appeared to be an incinerated car sat over an ominous headline: “Family of Four Dead, Burned in Grisly Car Accident.” Sadie read on. Investigators determined that a mother, father, and two children were on their way home from the Eagle Lake Country Club when their car careened off Clover Bridge and exploded. Forensics deemed the evidence unidentifiable, and the case was closed.