Found
Page 45
When I walked past the hospital lounge for visiting family members, I spotted Mrs. Spindel, Spoon’s mother, sitting in the corner. She stared out the window. Her eyes looked like shattered marbles. I stopped and swallowed. We had not spoken since my first visit after Spoon had been shot. She told me in no uncertain terms that she blamed me:
Oh, I know it’s your fault . . .
As though sensing my presence, Mrs. Spindel turned toward where I was standing. For a moment she just looked at me. I wasn’t sure what to do. Waving hello seemed foolish. I prepared for another dose of her deserved wrath. But she surprised me this time.
“Thank you, Mickey.”
“For what?” I asked.
“For being here. For being his friend.”
I shook my head. Her earlier anger had stung, but somehow this hurt more. I was Spoon’s friend? If so, some friend. “How is he?” I asked.
“No change.”
I wanted to say something encouraging, but that felt like the exact wrong thing to do. I nodded and waited.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was being too hard on you. I hope you understand . . .”
“You were right,” I said.
“No, Mickey, I wasn’t. It wasn’t your fault. I can see how much you care about him—and how much he cares about you. That’s rare and special. It’s just that since you’ve come to town . . .”
Her words faded away. She didn’t have to finish the thought. I got it. I had wanted to move back to the United States. I wanted to make roots in a town like Kasselton. I wanted to be in a real high school and play on a real team, and while I loved my life of travel with my parents, I had craved some normalcy.
So my loving parents had abided my wishes.
Now my father was dead. My mother was a drug addict. And my new friend was lying in a hospital bed, unable to move his legs.
I thought about what Bat Lady said, about how Spoon was meant for great things. I wanted to tell this woman about that, but I knew how stupid it would sound. I didn’t get Bat Lady or Elizabeth Sobek or whatever she was called. I always expected my old mentor to be kinder or sweeter or someone I could relate to. Bat Lady was none of those things. I always felt more puzzled after I left her than before. Sometimes I thought that she had special powers, but then something would happen that would bring me crashing back to reality.
There was no destiny here. No already-determined winner. We could indeed win. And we could indeed die.
Still, Bat Lady had told me Spoon was destined for greatness. She had told me that my father was still alive.
Did she know something?
Did she have some special powers? Or was she just a crazy do-gooder who saved some and lost others?
Mrs. Spindel turned back toward the window, dismissing me, I guess, or giving me permission to visit her son now. I stood there another second and felt a hand on my back. I turned. It was Ema.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey.”
We started down the corridor and opened the door to Spoon’s room. Two doctors walked out with grim expressions. It was another dose of reality.
Spoon looked distracted.
“You okay?” I asked him.
Spoon didn’t answer right away.
“Your text said you found something huge?” I said.
“You first,” Spoon said.
“What?”
“Tell us about Luther.”
So I did. I told them about Dylan Shaykes, about how he’d been rescued as a child, about how my father had rescued Luther, about the death of the little boy Ricky, about how Luther blamed my father. Ema listened in shock. Spoon stayed distracted.
When I finished, before Ema could say a word, Spoon said, “Now tell us about Jared Lowell.”
That question puzzled me. “What do you mean?”
“Tell us about your visit to Adiona Island.”
“I did already.”
Spoon looked up at me. “Tell us again. Everything. Everything that happened from the moment you arrived on that island to the moment you left.”
“Why?”
But Spoon just looked at me. He didn’t have to say more. So I went through it again—the ferry ride, the walk down the street, the narrow road where Jared lived. I recounted as best as I could the entire conversation Rachel and I had had with Jared Lowell. Spoon interrupted several times, asking for more details, most of which seemed completely irrelevant.
After I was finished, Ema followed up with the first question, but it wasn’t for me. It was for Spoon. “What was that all about?”
“You really care about this guy, don’t you?” Spoon asked her.
I had never seen him so serious.
“Yes.”
“So do you buy it?”
“Buy what?”
“That Jared Lowell was just flirting with you online and decided not to do it anymore for no reason and, oh, decided to go back to Adiona Island?”
Ema looked at me, then back to Spoon. “No, I don’t buy it.”
“Because his feelings for you were real.”
“Well, I could have been fooled—”
“You could be fooled a million different ways, Ema,” Spoon said, a hint of impatience in his voice, “but not in this case. Not with the feelings. You could be fooled by the outer trappings. But not by your heart.”
We both looked at Spoon, dumbfounded. Who was this guy? As if to show us he was still the same, Spoon arched an eyebrow and said, “I’ve been reading romance books on the side.”
“I still don’t see what you’re getting at,” I said.
“Adiona Island,” Spoon said.
“What about it?”
“The name.”
I tried not to look as confused as I felt. “What about it?”
“You know who Abeona was, right?”
“What?”
“Abeona, the Roman goddess of outward journeys.”
“What does that have to do with—”
“Adiona is her sister,” Spoon said.
I froze.
“Adiona is the Roman goddess of safe return. They both protect children. That’s their roles. They are partners. They watch over children—Abeona on their departures, Adiona on their return.”
Ema and I stood there, not saying a word.
“Either of you think the name is a coincidence?” Spoon asked.
We didn’t answer.
“Neither do I,” Spoon said. “You need to go back to that island. You need to go back as soon as you can.”
Chapter 36
Ema and I started home.
Oh, I know it’s your fault . . .
As though sensing my presence, Mrs. Spindel turned toward where I was standing. For a moment she just looked at me. I wasn’t sure what to do. Waving hello seemed foolish. I prepared for another dose of her deserved wrath. But she surprised me this time.
“Thank you, Mickey.”
“For what?” I asked.
“For being here. For being his friend.”
I shook my head. Her earlier anger had stung, but somehow this hurt more. I was Spoon’s friend? If so, some friend. “How is he?” I asked.
“No change.”
I wanted to say something encouraging, but that felt like the exact wrong thing to do. I nodded and waited.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was being too hard on you. I hope you understand . . .”
“You were right,” I said.
“No, Mickey, I wasn’t. It wasn’t your fault. I can see how much you care about him—and how much he cares about you. That’s rare and special. It’s just that since you’ve come to town . . .”
Her words faded away. She didn’t have to finish the thought. I got it. I had wanted to move back to the United States. I wanted to make roots in a town like Kasselton. I wanted to be in a real high school and play on a real team, and while I loved my life of travel with my parents, I had craved some normalcy.
So my loving parents had abided my wishes.
Now my father was dead. My mother was a drug addict. And my new friend was lying in a hospital bed, unable to move his legs.
I thought about what Bat Lady said, about how Spoon was meant for great things. I wanted to tell this woman about that, but I knew how stupid it would sound. I didn’t get Bat Lady or Elizabeth Sobek or whatever she was called. I always expected my old mentor to be kinder or sweeter or someone I could relate to. Bat Lady was none of those things. I always felt more puzzled after I left her than before. Sometimes I thought that she had special powers, but then something would happen that would bring me crashing back to reality.
There was no destiny here. No already-determined winner. We could indeed win. And we could indeed die.
Still, Bat Lady had told me Spoon was destined for greatness. She had told me that my father was still alive.
Did she know something?
Did she have some special powers? Or was she just a crazy do-gooder who saved some and lost others?
Mrs. Spindel turned back toward the window, dismissing me, I guess, or giving me permission to visit her son now. I stood there another second and felt a hand on my back. I turned. It was Ema.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey.”
We started down the corridor and opened the door to Spoon’s room. Two doctors walked out with grim expressions. It was another dose of reality.
Spoon looked distracted.
“You okay?” I asked him.
Spoon didn’t answer right away.
“Your text said you found something huge?” I said.
“You first,” Spoon said.
“What?”
“Tell us about Luther.”
So I did. I told them about Dylan Shaykes, about how he’d been rescued as a child, about how my father had rescued Luther, about the death of the little boy Ricky, about how Luther blamed my father. Ema listened in shock. Spoon stayed distracted.
When I finished, before Ema could say a word, Spoon said, “Now tell us about Jared Lowell.”
That question puzzled me. “What do you mean?”
“Tell us about your visit to Adiona Island.”
“I did already.”
Spoon looked up at me. “Tell us again. Everything. Everything that happened from the moment you arrived on that island to the moment you left.”
“Why?”
But Spoon just looked at me. He didn’t have to say more. So I went through it again—the ferry ride, the walk down the street, the narrow road where Jared lived. I recounted as best as I could the entire conversation Rachel and I had had with Jared Lowell. Spoon interrupted several times, asking for more details, most of which seemed completely irrelevant.
After I was finished, Ema followed up with the first question, but it wasn’t for me. It was for Spoon. “What was that all about?”
“You really care about this guy, don’t you?” Spoon asked her.
I had never seen him so serious.
“Yes.”
“So do you buy it?”
“Buy what?”
“That Jared Lowell was just flirting with you online and decided not to do it anymore for no reason and, oh, decided to go back to Adiona Island?”
Ema looked at me, then back to Spoon. “No, I don’t buy it.”
“Because his feelings for you were real.”
“Well, I could have been fooled—”
“You could be fooled a million different ways, Ema,” Spoon said, a hint of impatience in his voice, “but not in this case. Not with the feelings. You could be fooled by the outer trappings. But not by your heart.”
We both looked at Spoon, dumbfounded. Who was this guy? As if to show us he was still the same, Spoon arched an eyebrow and said, “I’ve been reading romance books on the side.”
“I still don’t see what you’re getting at,” I said.
“Adiona Island,” Spoon said.
“What about it?”
“The name.”
I tried not to look as confused as I felt. “What about it?”
“You know who Abeona was, right?”
“What?”
“Abeona, the Roman goddess of outward journeys.”
“What does that have to do with—”
“Adiona is her sister,” Spoon said.
I froze.
“Adiona is the Roman goddess of safe return. They both protect children. That’s their roles. They are partners. They watch over children—Abeona on their departures, Adiona on their return.”
Ema and I stood there, not saying a word.
“Either of you think the name is a coincidence?” Spoon asked.
We didn’t answer.
“Neither do I,” Spoon said. “You need to go back to that island. You need to go back as soon as you can.”
Chapter 36
Ema and I started home.
