I slept late—later than normal. When I got up, there was only time for breakfast and to help Mom move a few things around in the yard. It was craft day at the old people’s home, and the last one Claire and I would be doing together. When I went to get my bike, I was surprised by how big the garage looked. It was almost empty now.
Claire and I rode slowly up to the craft event. This was the last time we would do this together. The countdown had started; in two days I was leaving. It made me sad, but when I saw Sam’s bike, I forgot about that and was happy again. This time Claire wasn’t the first person going down the hall looking for Sam; it was me. He was in the room with the projector, and when he saw us, he smiled and jumped up.
“You’ll never guess what happened.”
“WHAT?” shouted Claire.
I patted her on the shoulder and told her to be quiet. The old people’s home was not a place for loud voices.
Sam waited for me to finish talking to Claire, but he looked like he was about to explode. As soon as I was done, he started talking again.
“Mr. Fred said that yesterday a small man—and not just a little small, but really small—came to the hospital with a box for Miss Sato.” Sam held his hand out at the height of Claire’s shoulder to show us how small the man had been.
I knew exactly who he was talking about, but I kept quiet.
“Did Mr. Fred see him?” asked Claire.
Sam shook his head. “No, but the nurses did, and they’d never seen him before.” Sam held up his hands. “But that wasn’t the weird part.”
Claire and I nodded, waiting for what was next.
Now Sam was almost whispering. “The weird part was what was in the box.” He looked at us to see if we were paying attention.
We both nodded.
Claire leaned forward. “What was in it?”
Sam held a finger up in the air and then whispered, “Two red shoes.”
Suddenly Claire looked at me. Her eyes were wide. She was about to say something, but Sam stopped her. He held his hand up.
“I know, it’s confusing, but wait, I’ll explain. Do you remember when I told you about Miss Sato saying raishuu?” Sam looked at Claire. “It’s the Japanese word for yesterday.”
I nodded.
“Well, it turns out she wasn’t saying a Japanese word at all: what she was really trying to say was ‘red shoe,’ but because of her stroke it came out all wrong. She was trying to tell Mr. Gripes where she’d hidden the key to her safety deposit box.”
Claire interrupted. “Why is that important?” She seemed disappointed.
I tried to explain. “It’s where people keep important papers, and money and valuable stuff.”
“And love notes,” said Sam. “Miss Sato saved every single love note Mr. Gripes ever wrote to her. He used to put them in her shoes. Her red shoes. Isn’t that weird?”
I nodded. I didn’t know what to say.
Claire looked at me and then back at Sam. “Are they in love again?”
Sam shrugged his shoulders and looked embarrassed. “Mr. Gripes is reading the notes to Miss Sato, and she smiled for the first time yesterday.”
Suddenly Claire ran over and hugged me. She was crying. I hugged her back. Now Sam was confused. He probably was thinking we liked Miss Sato a lot more than we did. He didn’t know that the hug was for us, and all that we couldn’t and didn’t talk about.
It was for love that was broken.
Love that was weak.
Love that was hurting.
Love that was disappointing.
And love that was friendship.
It was for a lot of things.
The craft project itself wasn’t my favorite. I’m not a fan of paper flowers, but that didn’t matter, it was still a nice time. Raishuu and red shoes—I couldn’t believe it. It was overwhelming; I could hardly keep it inside. Now it all made sense—the wishes, and Sam, and Miss Sato, and Mr. Gripes. I knew why it had happened. I had fulfilled my destiny. It was a relief. I tried not to think about Ashley; that was the loose end that still didn’t fit.
Before we left, Claire invited Sam to the yard sale tomorrow. A week ago I would have been horrified, but now things were different. I was looking forward to tomorrow. I was tempted to stop by the VS Depot on the way home, to say thank you to Peter, but Dad said we had to be back by three thirty, and it was already past three. We’d have to wait until tomorrow. Maybe I could make him a thank-you card.
As soon as we got out to the bike, Claire asked about the red shoes.
“You sent them, didn’t you? How did you know that was the right thing to send?”
I was ready for her question. “Do you remember the photo of Mr. Gripes and Miss Sato that Mr. Fred said was his favorite?”
Claire thought back and nodded.
“They were in love back then, that’s why the photo was Mr. Fred’s favorite. And in that photo Miss Sato was wearing red shoes. So I thought the red shoes might work like my treasure hat did for me. It might remind them that they used to be in love.”
Claire stared at me, not saying a word. Now I was unsure about my explanation. Did it make sense? It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was everything—except for the wishes. But I couldn’t tell her about the wishes. Finally she spoke.
“You’re a love detective.” And she said it like she was believing it for the first time.
We got home superfast, both pedaling and excited about our adventure with Dad. I knew where we were going—Howling Hills. It was a huge amusement park—but for Claire it was a surprise. When she found out, she couldn’t stop bouncing up and down.
The two best things about Howling Hills are the food and the rides.
The two worst things about Howling Hills are the food and the rides.
It’s not easy to get the right mix of food and rides. I was doing pretty good until the funnel cake; after that I pretty much had to keep my feet on the ground. Dad tried to get me to go on the mini swinging chairs with him and Claire, but just looking at them made my stomach feel swirly. It was too bad, because it was the last ride of the day.
When we pulled up to our house, I hardly recognized it. Mom had been crazy busy while we were gone. There was stuff all over the front yard. She said it was too much to leave until the morning, so she had put the big stuff out now. The rest of it was piled in boxes in the driveway. It was a little hard to guess what Dad was thinking about it all. It was like he’d left town, and one kind of wife, and come back to an entirely different wife. He was probably still in shock.
It was late, but I still wanted to go downstairs. Mom was upstairs with Claire, and Dad was looking at his computer; no one would be looking for me for a while. Would I risk the pain again? What was the point? My mission was over, wasn’t it? Maybe, but I still couldn’t get Ashley out of my head. What had happened to her? Was she alive? Was she dead? And there were so many wishes left. Why? I turned on the light and started down the stairs. Halfway down I gasped and grabbed the railing. The basement was clean! The boxes were gone. I raced down to the workbench—my chair was still there, but everything else was cleared away. I dropped to my knees and looked under the bench. No boxes! No wish jar! NO NOTHING! It was all gone! My body was shaking. I could hardly breathe. This couldn’t be the end. Mom had cleaned everything out, but it wasn’t gone. It had to still be in the driveway. I ran up the stairs and raced outside. It was too dark to see. I had to get a flashlight. I ran back into the house and straight into Mom.
“Ash! What’s wrong?”
She grabbed my arm and slowed me down. Suddenly I noticed I was crying. A second later I was inconsolable, head in my hands on the kitchen table. Mom tried to help. She was panicked. She patted my back and asked:
“Is it Claire?
“Daddy?
“Lucy?
“Me?
“Are you worried about camp?”
But I was like Miss Sato, unable to make her understand. I pointed to the door, to the driveway, but that didn’t help. Finally I let her lead me upstairs and help me lie down. If she had her own theories about my sadness, she didn’t share them. She stayed with me until I finally calmed down. I had a plan—as soon as she left I was going outside—but that never happened. I heard Mom leave, but when I opened my eyes again, it was morning.