A chilly gust of wind came out of nowhere, nearly knocking Kallie over. More than fifteen minutes had passed. The after-school crowd had dispersed. Only a few stragglers still milled about, waiting to be picked up.
Pole had left, and Anna waved to Kallie as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, tucked her chin against the wind, and headed up Main toward South Prospect.
Kallie checked her watch again. Seventeen minutes. It wasn’t at all like Grandpa to be late. She was growing more impatient and angry by the minute, but when her father’s old, reliable gray Malibu pulled up in front of the school, Kallie knew immediately something was wrong. Her father never left work early.
“Quickly,” he said, once the car came to a safe stop.
Kallie hopped into the front seat, yanked the door shut, and clicked in her seat belt. “What’s wrong? Where’s Grandpa Jess?”
Her father talked. She could see his lips moving. She heard the deep, familiar hum of his voice reverberate in her ears. Yet his words seemed to hover like a cloud in the air between them, refusing to sink into her brain. Only one word made its way through the haze.
Hospital.
“Is he…? Will he be…?” She barely choked out the words before hot tears spilled down her cheeks, dripping onto the satchel she clung to, leaking into the creases and ruts.
“I don’t know, honey,” said her father gravely. He was calm, but his hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned pearly white. “Mrs. Shepherd saw him lying on the porch steps. She called an ambulance and then phoned me immediately.”
The Malibu made it to the hospital in no time at all. It was the first time Kallie had seen her father drive even slightly over the speed limit. That—plus the wind was at their back, giving them an extra nudge. They parked and raced side by side through the emergency doors.
The nurse at the desk gave Kallie’s father instructions as to where to locate Grandpa Jess. He turned to Kallie, held her shoulders firmly, and told her she had to stay in the waiting room until he assessed the situation. Kallie’s protests went unanswered as her father entered the large doors to the emergency-care unit, leaving her behind.
Minutes passed like hours as Kallie sat rigid in the cold hospital seats, eager for news. When her father finally reemerged from the metal doors, his expression was grave.
“He’s in intensive care.”
“H-he’s going to be all right, isn’t he?”
“The doctor isn’t sure,” said her father. “He’s checked him thoroughly but hasn’t determined exactly what’s wrong. Possibly a heart attack or stroke … but the doctor says it’s odd, because Grandpa has tested negative for both and his symptoms don’t seem to match any particular illness…”
Kallie scanned her memory files for information. A cerebral vascular accident—otherwise known as a stroke—occurred when poor blood flow resulted in the death of important brain cells. A heart attack was a blockage of blood flow to the heart. Both could be fatal.
“Can … Can I see him?” She fought back tears.
“The doctor has ordered several more tests to try to get to the bottom of things. When the tests are complete, we can both go in.”
“Why can’t they figure out what’s wrong?” she asked, but the answer was lying deep inside her, waiting for her consciousness to lift it to the surface.
When at last she was allowed in to see him, Kallie found Grandpa Jess lying on a stretcher surrounded by gray curtain walls. He was attached to several monitors that blipped and beeped intermittently. His eyes were closed.
Kallie’s tongue felt as heavy as stone when she tried to speak. There was so much she wanted to say. “Oh, Grandpa.”
At the sound of her voice, his eyes opened slightly. They were dull. Their usual spark was barely a flicker.
Kallie wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hug him tightly, but she was afraid she’d disturb the various wires and tubes connecting him to the machines. He looked like a tangled puppet. All she could do was slip her hand gently into his and squeeze.
She took a deep breath and frowned. “You were late,” she said firmly. Though his eyes closed again, she thought she saw his lips curl into a faint smile.
Kallie and her father stayed at Grandpa Jess’s side until the nurse came and told them visiting hours were over long ago. She said there was nothing they could do for Grandpa Jess but let him rest. She reassured them she would take very good care of him.
“Please, Grandpa,” Kallie whispered in his ear before she left. “You need to get better. I need those recipes.”
Kallie’s stomach rumbled loudly in the car as they headed home. She hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. Her father offered to stop and pick up a burger—he never bought her fast food—but she declined. No matter what her stomach was saying, she couldn’t eat a bite.
It was very late when Kallie got into her pajamas. She was about to turn out the lights when she saw the box sitting on her desk. The waxing crescent moon was on the bottom, and the two stars were on top. It now looked like a sad face.
Kallie trembled as she reached for it. The next piece had been a coffin. “This is all my fault…”
“What’s all your fault?” her father said, entering the room and startling her. His gaze swung like a metronome between Kallie and the box.
“Grandpa Jess. It’s all my fault. You were right. I should never have opened this box.”
“I don’t see how opening the box has anything to do with Grandpa Jess.”
Like a crumbling dam that could no longer hold, Kallie’s words rushed out of her in a deluge of battered syllables and raw emotion. Her father’s eyes grew tighter and narrower as she spoke.
“Are you quite finished?” he snapped. “Honestly, Kallie. Get a hold of yourself. I’ve never known you to be so foolish. Grandpa Jess is sick. It has nothing to do with that box.”
Kallie swiped at her eyes. “I didn’t believe it at first, either … but now…” If only she had listened to Anna and done something about the box before it had gone this far.
“Nonsense.” His voice was growing in strength and velocity. His words crackled like fireworks. “Nothing that has happened has anything to do with that box. All it’s done is put irrational ideas into your head.”
He wrenched it from her hands, and though she grappled for it, he held it out of reach.
“I’m going to do what I should have done in the first place,” he said, his voice flat and cold. “Just as soon as I get a chance, I’m going to pitch this thing into the deepest part of the lake, where it will sink and never be seen again!”
Kallie froze. She stopped reaching. As they stared at each other, her father’s expression seemed so hard. Nearly distorted. Kallie had never seen this side of him. He was always calm. Level. In perfect control.
His words seemed to echo inside her. Pitch the box into the deepest part of the lake … Never be seen again … Kallie gulped.
He turned to exit the room. “You’ll see,” he called over his shoulder. “You’ll feel much better once this box is out of your life for good.”
She could hear his footsteps cross the hall. There was a soft thunk, and then she heard his closet door creak shut.