Chapter 28
George

A cart filled with black suitcases whizzes across the speckled tile floor, as a fuzzy intercom voice mumbles, “Final boarding call for Flight 1042 to Cincinnati.” Colorful travel posters decorate the walls, like the ones in Jack’s cousin’s room.

“What am I doing at an airport?” I mutter to myself. I don’t even know what city I’m in. The way Jack just swooshed me away like that is, well, unbelievable. I know I teleported on my own once, but this is different. He’s never done that to me before. I frown, wondering how he did it—and wondering how the helicopter I’m supposed to get back home again.

I scan the airport and discover Jack’s mom walking toward the security line, wearing ripped blue jeans and a black T-shirt. Her hair is dirtier and shorter than I remember. Some guy desperately clutches her hand like he’s afraid she’ll slip away. “Who’s that?” I ask out loud.

“Who’s what? What do you see?” Jack’s voice sounds in my ear.

“What the hexagon!” I shout at the unexpected exclamation. I jump about a hundred feet into the air and whip my head from side to side.

Jack is nowhere to be seen, but he comes in loud and clear as he snaps, “George! Where’s my mom?”

Well, this is a new one. I realize I must be wearing a headset, and when I reach up, sure enough, I find a small gadget hooked around my ear.

“Where did this headset come from?” I ask, wondering if Jack was wrong about me not being magic, just like he was wrong about my uncle not being real.

Ignoring my question, he says, “What’s she doing?”

I glance back in his mom’s direction. “Getting on a plane, maybe? Lemme check.” I creep closer.

She slaps her ticket and her license on the ticket checker’s desk. A security guard stands not too far away, arms crossed, eyes on them. The checker and the guard both have glistening golden badges, popping against their royal-blue button-downs and fancy black neckties. I describe the scene for Jack.

“Ticket to where?” he demands.

I try to get closer, but his mom’s friend is blocking my view. Since I am still one hundred percent invisible, no “Excuse me” will help.

“Her friend is in the way,” I regretfully explain.

“Friend?” Through gritted teeth, Jack snarls, “Describe him.”

I study the stranger. His tattoos. His baggy clothes. His salt-and-pepper hair. “He won’t let go of your mom’s wrist,” I say to Jack, going back to that one tiny detail and ignoring everything else. I’m no expert at hand holding, but I think it’s usually mutual. There’s something almost vise-like about his grip.

With her free hand, Jack’s mom struggles to stuff her license into a tiny purse. No wonder she left her pills at home. There’s barely any room for anything in this bag.

“I have to go,” Jack’s mom tells her friend, tipping her head toward the nearly empty security line just on the other side of the counter. The stranger doesn’t set her free.

“Sir,” the ticket checker warns him. “Ticketed passengers only.”

Jack’s mom spins around to face the stranger. He finally releases her hand, which she wraps around his neck. And they kiss. Like a lot. Right in front of the airport security staff. Travelers stop to stare. A man with white hair peeking out of his ears grumbles “Outta my way” as he bumps them aside to have his own ticket checked. The kissing continues.

“Oh my God,” I say in disbelief.

“What’s happening?” Jack cries out, terrified, followed by “Ask her about my dad.” I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to think about Jack’s dad right now, and I don’t want to get any closer to this.

Apparently, the security guard does. “Miss,” she warns Jack’s mom, as if it’s all her fault. Finally, the smooch comes to an end.

Jack’s mom has tears in her eyes as she steps away. “I have to go.”

Her friend suddenly looks furious as he snatches her wrist back. “Don’t leave.”

“I’ll be back,” she promises. She draws a little cross over her heart with her free hand.

“Liar,” he barks.

“Let me go,” she commands, but he doesn’t. Well, that does it. Jack’s mom has never been my favorite human in the world, but nobody holds her like that and gets away with it. I stride up to the pair.

“Get your hands off of her,” the security guard and I both say at the same time. The officer seems a little hesitant to get more involved than that, keeping a safe distance. Coward, I think, charging at the man and kicking him in the shin. He releases Jack’s mom at once.

“What the hemisphere was that?” he says, using a nastier word, and looking down in my direction but seeing nothing.

He could feel that?

The stranger’s fiery eyes shoot up to the guard, as if it was her. Yet another perk of being invisible.

Jack’s mom takes advantage of the distraction to race to the security line. She throws her shoes and purse into a banged-up plastic bin, then looks over her shoulder, shaking, with tears flowing down her cheeks. With both the security guard and me prepared to intervene again if necessary, the strange man doesn’t follow. Instead he curses at her: “They’ll just reject you again, you stupid—” I kick him again before he can finish the sentence. “SON OF A . . .” He bends down to rub his leg.

“What is going on?” Jack demands in my ear. “Where’s my mom?”

Oh no.

She shuffles through the metal detector in bare feet.

I race after her.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP! the metal detector screams as I shoot through, red lights flashing. A security guard looks in my direction like he’s seen a ghost. I lift my hand and pat the small contraption hooked around my ear that caused this racket.

On the other side of the security checkpoint, I look around but don’t see Jack’s mom. I was too slow. I’ve ruined everything. I can barely hear myself as I whisper to Jack with a quiver in my voice, “She’s gone.”

With that, the airport fades from view, turning to black. In a moment, my eyes are overwhelmed by the glowing sun. The shapes of the outdoor Starbucks seating return, Jack by my side. He doesn’t have to say anything. I can read the devastation in his eyes. I’ve failed him again. “I’m sorry,” I tell my best friend.

His sadness only lasts a moment before his eyes light up. “Remember that time you went through Aunt Rachel’s address book?”

No. No, I do not remember that! I begin to disappear.

“No, wait!” Jack says, “Even better, when you were actually at my dad’s house!” I feel a tear in my chest as if Jack’s thoughts are about to rip me in two and send me hurtling in different directions, chasing after more memories that I’m pretty sure are not real. I cry out in pain, clutching my chest and leaning forward to squish my belly back together.

“STOP!” I cry out. “STOP IT! STOP IT!”

With a gasp, Jack’s eyes widen. He looks as though I’ve smacked him in the face.

My whiskers bristle as my nostrils flare. “Stop trying to change me!”

A blankness settles over Jack’s entire face, and I realize I’ve just swooshed his mind away to who-knows-where, just like he did to me. I wave my hand in front of his eyes. “Jack? Jack? You okay, Jack?” I ask with a hint of panic in my voice. But it’s useless. He’s gone.