anything to do with you personally, Thea. It isn’t any of your business.”
“Thanks a lot,” I said.
Ellen’s hand squeezed my neck. “How much longer are you and Jocelyn going to be here? Another five or six days? That’s not very long. You can help her find something constructive to do.”
“Can you teach her to knit?” Celia asked.
“I don’t know how to knit. And I think if you want me to keep an eye on her, you should—” I opened my mouth and then closed it again. How could I ask them if they were keeping a secret when they could ask the same thing of me?
“How much money has Thea earned so far, Celia?” Ellen asked.
“Oh. Probably sixty at least,” Celia said. “If we’re counting on three hours a day, five days a week—”
“It’s more like four hours a day,” I said. “Four hours at least.”
“At three dollars an hour, that’s sixty a week. So I suppose you’re already up to a hundred and twenty. A hundred and twenty dollars.” Celia whistled.
“Are you really going to pay me?” I asked.
“Why wouldn’t we pay you? We just want to make sure that there’s no more spying,” Ellen said. “Are we agreed?”
I nodded.
“Good,” Ellen said. “And of course you don’t need to tell Jocelyn about this conversation.”
“It’s a lovely night for a walk,” Celia said.
We started back toward Nenna and Granda’s, toward the squares of light that seemed to float above the sand.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I think you had another nightmare last night,” Jocelyn said.
I poured myself a bowl of cereal and sliced some bananas on top of it. Did Celia and Ellen count as some kind of nightmare? Maybe they did; I was feeling groggy and disoriented. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you woke me up.” Jocelyn plucked a slice of banana, like a fleshy medallion, from the top of my cereal.
Truth #37: Usually in my dreams it’s February. I don’t have to look at a calendar or even see that it’s winter. I can just tell what month it is. In the dream, I just know.
I discovered that we didn’t have any milk. What was I supposed to do with a bowl of dry cereal? “Did I talk in my sleep?” I asked Jocelyn. “Was I walking around with my arms out in front of me like Frankenstein’s monster?”
“No. You weren’t walking.”
I ate a spoonful of dry flakes. They made an enormous noise in my skull, like an army marching through a field.
Truth #38: In the dreams, I always have a terrible, heavy feeling. It feels like a thousand hooks are attached to my lungs and someone’s tugging on them, trying to pull them out.
I ate another spoonful of dry flakes and looked out the sliding door to the porch. The ocean was calm, as if someone had passed a giant hand across its surface.
Jocelyn was scratching herself again. She had a new patch of eczema at the base of her throat. “Edmund’s playing with Brian today,” she said.
“Hm.” I crunched my cereal.
“So we can go out and explore whenever we want. Nenna says she doesn’t need us. And it’s going to be nice all day.”
“Really?”
It would be better for both of you not to go creeping around town,
Celia had said. And she owed me a hundred and twenty dollars. “It looks like it might rain, though.”
Jocelyn shaded her eyes and looked at the cloudless blue sky and the brilliant sun. “It isn’t going to rain.”
I glanced over at Nenna, who was playing with Ralph. Phoebe had left him behind in his plastic carrier and gone to the dentist. “It
might
rain,” I said. “Anyway, I was thinking that we should stay home today for a change. Instead of riding the trike.” I felt Jocelyn staring at me. “There are a lot of things we can do around here. Maybe we could work on some arts and crafts.”
“Oh, Ralph, you’re the handsomest thing,” Nenna said. “Oh, bub bub bub.”
“Or maybe we could set up a sprinkler,” I said. “Or play with water balloons or something.” I sounded like an idiot. Who played
“Thanks a lot,” I said.
Ellen’s hand squeezed my neck. “How much longer are you and Jocelyn going to be here? Another five or six days? That’s not very long. You can help her find something constructive to do.”
“Can you teach her to knit?” Celia asked.
“I don’t know how to knit. And I think if you want me to keep an eye on her, you should—” I opened my mouth and then closed it again. How could I ask them if they were keeping a secret when they could ask the same thing of me?
“How much money has Thea earned so far, Celia?” Ellen asked.
“Oh. Probably sixty at least,” Celia said. “If we’re counting on three hours a day, five days a week—”
“It’s more like four hours a day,” I said. “Four hours at least.”
“At three dollars an hour, that’s sixty a week. So I suppose you’re already up to a hundred and twenty. A hundred and twenty dollars.” Celia whistled.
“Are you really going to pay me?” I asked.
“Why wouldn’t we pay you? We just want to make sure that there’s no more spying,” Ellen said. “Are we agreed?”
I nodded.
“Good,” Ellen said. “And of course you don’t need to tell Jocelyn about this conversation.”
“It’s a lovely night for a walk,” Celia said.
We started back toward Nenna and Granda’s, toward the squares of light that seemed to float above the sand.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I think you had another nightmare last night,” Jocelyn said.
I poured myself a bowl of cereal and sliced some bananas on top of it. Did Celia and Ellen count as some kind of nightmare? Maybe they did; I was feeling groggy and disoriented. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you woke me up.” Jocelyn plucked a slice of banana, like a fleshy medallion, from the top of my cereal.
Truth #37: Usually in my dreams it’s February. I don’t have to look at a calendar or even see that it’s winter. I can just tell what month it is. In the dream, I just know.
I discovered that we didn’t have any milk. What was I supposed to do with a bowl of dry cereal? “Did I talk in my sleep?” I asked Jocelyn. “Was I walking around with my arms out in front of me like Frankenstein’s monster?”
“No. You weren’t walking.”
I ate a spoonful of dry flakes. They made an enormous noise in my skull, like an army marching through a field.
Truth #38: In the dreams, I always have a terrible, heavy feeling. It feels like a thousand hooks are attached to my lungs and someone’s tugging on them, trying to pull them out.
I ate another spoonful of dry flakes and looked out the sliding door to the porch. The ocean was calm, as if someone had passed a giant hand across its surface.
Jocelyn was scratching herself again. She had a new patch of eczema at the base of her throat. “Edmund’s playing with Brian today,” she said.
“Hm.” I crunched my cereal.
“So we can go out and explore whenever we want. Nenna says she doesn’t need us. And it’s going to be nice all day.”
“Really?”
It would be better for both of you not to go creeping around town,
Celia had said. And she owed me a hundred and twenty dollars. “It looks like it might rain, though.”
Jocelyn shaded her eyes and looked at the cloudless blue sky and the brilliant sun. “It isn’t going to rain.”
I glanced over at Nenna, who was playing with Ralph. Phoebe had left him behind in his plastic carrier and gone to the dentist. “It
might
rain,” I said. “Anyway, I was thinking that we should stay home today for a change. Instead of riding the trike.” I felt Jocelyn staring at me. “There are a lot of things we can do around here. Maybe we could work on some arts and crafts.”
“Oh, Ralph, you’re the handsomest thing,” Nenna said. “Oh, bub bub bub.”
“Or maybe we could set up a sprinkler,” I said. “Or play with water balloons or something.” I sounded like an idiot. Who played
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