EMILY, JAMES, and Matthew sat under the pagoda awning with Hollister. They’d given their reports to the police, who were now finishing dealing with Barry, Clyde, and Mr. Remora.
At the moment, Mr. Remora knelt on the grass and wailed, “I had no choice! Griswold had no respect for literary treasures. He was a savage! He buried that manuscript in the ground! It’s probably not even in an acid-free container!”
As they waited for an officer to escort them home, Emily finally had a chance to ask Hollister why he was there.
Hollister hunched on the bench, his dreadlocks draped forward over his shoulder. “It wasn’t until the yelling got going that I woke up.…” He’d been in the sleeping bag that they’d spotted when they first arrived at Portsmouth Square. He seemed more shaken from everything that had happened than Emily, James, and Matthew were. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you kids before. Things could have gone much worse than they did.”
“It’s okay, Hollister.” James patted his back. “We’re all fine now.”
“Do you always sleep here?” Emily asked.
“Fairly often. Ever since you brought that book in my shop, actually.”
“The Gold-Bug?” Emily asked incredulously. “Did you know about the game? You knew it ended here?”
“Yes and no,” Hollister said. “You see, as I told you before, Gary and I go way back. Decades ago there was a treasure hunt revolving around a picture book called Masquerade. It became quite the phenomenon, and Gary was inspired. This was about forty years ago, but even that far back he planned on starting his game with The Gold-Bug and ending it right here with a nod to Robert Louis Stevenson. Those were the pieces of his plans that I knew. So when I saw your copy of The Gold-Bug, I recognized Gary’s handiwork. I figured he’d decided the time had come to put the game in motion. I didn’t know about the manuscript—and it doesn’t sound like he knew about that himself until more recently. But it doesn’t surprise me. I knew he wanted to give away something big, something that would get people talking. I decided to keep an eye on the place. Honestly, I’d been trying to figure out where he hid the treasure myself so it wouldn’t end up in the wrong hands.” Hollister nodded toward Mr. Remora, Barry, and Clyde to indicate the type of wrong hands he referred to.
“I have to apologize to you kids,” Hollister said. “I thought this would be a harmless game. I didn’t realize Mr. Remora or anyone else was involved. Not that I would have expected this from Leon—he’s a prickly fellow, but I never would have guessed downright rotten. I wouldn’t have sat by and watched you kids play if I thought you were walking into trouble. But Gary would be tickled to know you were the ones who solved his game. You get what he was all about. You understand the spirit of the game and have true love for books. That’s Gary.”
* * *
Before school the next morning, Emily walked into the kitchen to face her parents for the first time since seeing their pale, shocked faces when police officers had knocked on the door with her and Matthew in tow. She felt miserable for storming out the way she had. She knew her parents must have thought she’d overreacted to their news. She already knew what they’d say about that: “We have plenty of time left in San Francisco.” But however long they had left could never feel like enough. Six months, nine months, a year. It never felt like enough time when you knew you’d be saying your good-byes soon. And how do you open yourself up to hellos when you’re already preparing to say good-bye?
Her mom and dad sat at the kitchen table with family albums open in front of them. They were looking at a spread of pictures from a day spent in Estes Park in Colorado.
“Remember this, Em?” her dad asked.
A herd of elk had walked down the mountain road onto the main street in the village, meandering past stores as if they were souvenir shopping.
“So many good memories,” her mom said.
“Only in Colorado,” her dad said.
Emily knew where this was going. All the experiences and adventures they’d gained from the different states they’d lived in, and how lucky she was. How other kids memorized state capitals from a map while she visited them in person, or how she walked around Mount Rushmore instead of only reading about it, or how she recited the Gettysburg Address from Cemetery Hill, where President Lincoln gave the speech himself.
Her dad cleared his throat. “We didn’t finish our conversation last night.”
“I already apologized,” she said.
Her mom flipped another page of the album. “Well, we feel like we owe you one, too.”
“You do?”
“The lifestyle we’ve created for our family—your mom and I know it’s unconventional. That’s part of what appeals to us about it. And we feel like you and your brother are getting a type of education that can’t be bought or found by attending the same school year after year.”
“I know,” Emily said. So far she was missing the apology part of her parents’ apology.
“We realize we’ve been a bit selfish,” her mom said. “And you and Matthew are getting older. You’re developing your own independent dreams and aspirations, and they may not sync with ours. Last night made us realize that we want the whole family on board for our next move. You know we love our surprises, but it never occurred to us what kind of stress that might cause for you, not knowing when and where we might move to next. So we’ll stay in San Francisco indefinitely and make the decision to move on as a family when we’re all ready, whether that’s a year from now or five.”
“Seriously? But what about your book deal?”
“What about it?” her mom asked.
“Your book is about us living in all fifty states. We have a lot more to go before we’re done. If we stop now, you won’t be able to write your book.”
“Our book is about our quest to live in all fifty states. We have plenty of material to work with.”
“You mean we’re not moving again?”
Her dad stood from the table and swung an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll keep it open for family discussion, but for now we’ll call San Francisco our home for as long as you and Matthew want it to be. Once you guys go to college, your mom and I can resume our nomadic ways.”
Emily put one arm around her dad’s waist and the other around her mom, still seated at the table, and brought them together in a group hug. “You guys are the best!”