One Wish Away (4 page)

He sits down at the table. I turn my chair around to face him.

“What happened?” Darren reaches forward and holds my hand wrapped in the towel.

“Oh yeah. I was washing dishes and a plate broke. I'm fine.”

“That's like your new word, isn't it?” The growl in his voice doesn't match the concern in his eyes as he disappears down the hall. When he comes back into view, he has the first aid kit. He pulls his chair up so our knees are touching and gestures for my hand. I give it to him and wince as he pulls the cloth away.

“Really, Lyra? Didn't you guys have family dinner night? Why didn't someone help you with this?”

“I tried to take care of it. But it's hard to do with only one hand.” I laugh, and immediately stop when Darren's eyes meet mine. “Why are you so mad?”

“Because someone should have been here to help you.” His fingers glide over my skin with ointments and bandages. The pain that was pounding in my palm and up my wrist lessens.

“You're helping me,” I whisper.

His work is done, but he's still holding my hand, cradling it with both of his. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire. Maybe I caught an infection, but even I know symptoms don't come on that fast.

“I'll always help you, Lyra. All you have to do is ask.”

I smile. “That's why you're the best friend a girl could ask for.”

He smiles too, but it doesn't reach those concerned eyes. “Yeah,” he sighs and his hands drop away. Everything instantly goes cold. Fever gone.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He clears his throat, looking as though he might say more. I find I want him to. I want him to tell me what he's thinking and what I can say to make him seem less tense. I open my mouth and he says, “You got anything to drink around here?”

I laugh on my exhale. “Of course. Root beer?”

“You know what I like.”

We accidentally stand at the same time, putting us nose to nose with each other. That infection is back, and heat covers my body. His eyes lock on mine from a few inches above me. I need something to calm down.

I need space.

I need to think.

“I need something to drink too.” I skirt around him and rush to the fridge. Root beer sounds good. I bring them back to the table and have Darren open mine, since I'm right handed and have limited mobility.

After a few swigs, Darren asks, “So, where were we?”

“Huh?” All I can think about are his hands, the warmth, his gentle touch.

“Your text. What's the big news?”

Oh that.

“It turns out a number of astronomers have noticed Spica has somehow gone missing.”

“No kidding?”

“Yep. That's why Dad and Aunt Steph ran out of here so fast. The reporter said something about it and they both tore back to the lab.”

“They didn't know?”

I take a drink and shake my head. “Nope.”

“What did your dad say?”

I shrug. “He was caught off guard. Super confused. He did his mumbling thing.”

Darren crosses his arms and focuses on my bandaged hand. “I'm sure he'll figure it out.”

“It is kind of crazy they didn't realize it though. I mean, SEAD is supposed to know everything about outer space.”

“That is strange.” Darren seems uninterested now. Either that or still upset.

“You don't want to talk about this anymore, do you?”

He tries to smile, but instead shakes his head and half laughs. “Not really. I don't want to talk about your dad.”

“He's a good guy, Darren.”

“I don't question that. I question how he spends his time.”

I sigh. “I don't want to talk about my dad either.”

Darren smiles. “Then we agree. Let's finish the
Return of the Jedi
since you fell asleep when we were watching it last time.”

“Good idea.”

We grab our sodas and settle in our ‘usual' spots on the couch, our backs on the armrests and our feet facing each other in the middle. I throw one side of the blanket to Darren.

I do my best to concentrate on the movie, but the excitement of what my family is working on has my mind drifting off to other far more exciting possibilities.

“Hey, you're home.” I push my calculus book aside as Dad enters the kitchen. I haven't seen him in four days, since family dinner night.

“Hi, honey. How's school going?”

“Fine.”

“Good. Good.” He grabs the leftovers I put in the fridge and throws them in the microwave. The low hum fills the silence.

“How are things at SEAD?”

“Busy. All astronomers are in a race to construct a hypothesis around the disappearance of Spica so there's a lot of discussion and work to do to come up with a plausible explanation for…” His eyes grow wide and he looks at me. Like
really
looks at me. “I mean, as such a prestigious institution we should be the first to offer an explanation, right?”

“Right.” He seems off. Dad is always off in comparison to the human population. But today he's more off. Or I just haven't seen him enough lately to know what my own dad is really like anymore. There's more silence and then Dad's eyes light up.

“You know what one of my colleagues told me at work?”

“What?”

“That someone in this room lead their team to a win at the State Academic Decathlon Competition.”

Huh, I guess we didn't talk about that yet.

“Yeah, we won. It was pretty cool.”

“They showed me your interview on the Tube thing.”

My hand hits my forehead. “It's called YouTube.”

“Okay. In any case, very proud of you, honey.”

“That interview was horrible.”

“What was so bad about it?” His eyebrows scrunch, exaggerating his wrinkles.

It'd be nearly impossible to explain to him, so I don't even try.

“I just don't like doing them.”

He shrugs. “I thought it was good.”

“Thanks.”

“Very proud.”

“Your food is exploding.”

“Oh, drat!” He pulls the microwave open and a plume of condensation floods out. He coughs and waves it away. “It'll be fine.” With four fingers he pulls it out and uses a stack of old astronomy journals as a hotplate. “I'll be in my office if you need me.”

“Okay.” I watch him scurry down the hall. At least he's home tonight.

*

A few root beers later, I get up from the table and hurry down the hall to the bathroom. As I pass Dad's office, I hear him yelling. Putting my ear on the wood makes it louder, but not any clearer. Very carefully, I open the door a crack.

“Sir, we've discussed a number of possible explanations to give the public. We're reviewing them now, plugging them into the simulations and case studies. Verifying they'll stand up under severe scrutiny.” There's a pause, and then Dad continues, “I understand we can't tell them the truth. Did you talk to Stephanie? I don't know the exact timeline, sir. She knows those things.” Another pause. “Okay, sure, we'll give a statement by the end of the week. Yes, sir.”

There's silence as I listen to him pace.

My breathing is quick as I stare at the small crack around the door handle. Who was he talking to? The truth? What truth?

Before I can think further, the door swings open, and I'm face-to-face with my father.

“Lyra?” He looks over his shoulder, then back at me.

“I-I-I was just going to the bathroom. Are you okay? I heard a lot of yelling.”

His face is all red, sweat lines his brow. He leans against the doorframe, his eyes searching mine.

“Did you hear anything?”

“Um…”

Dad takes a step out of his office. He's a lot taller than me, six foot something. He looms over me using his full height and backs me into the wall.

“Lyra, listen to me. Whatever you heard, forget it. Okay? Don't tell your aunt. Don't tell anyone. You can't know. It's imperative you don't know.”

My mouth hangs open as I look up at my father. I have so many questions. But I don't voice any of them. He grabs my shoulders. Hard. Desperate.

“Just forget about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” I breathe out as he lets me go and shuts himself in his office.

I run to the bathroom. After the door is shut, my body starts shaking. The fear and concern in Dad's eyes is something I've
never
seen before.

I force my back against the tiled wall and slide down to a seated position.

What has my dad gotten into?

“He told you what?”

“Keep your voice down.” I look through the window of my tree house, making sure Dad's still in his office.

Darren pulls the beanie off his head and wrings it in his hands. “You think it's like a weapon or something?”

“What?”

“I don't know, maybe he's helping to put some sort of weapon up there to protect us from terrorists or something.”

“Well, that's a stretch,” I mumble.

“What is he hiding then?”

“He said something about needing an explanation the public would believe. That could undergo ‘severe scrutiny,' I think were his exact words.”

Darren shrugs. “How is that a dangerous thing?”

“I guess it depends on what he's talking about.” For a few seconds I stare at Darren, and then I shake my head. “We don't know anything. The right answer is always the most logical. We need more information.”

“And how do we get that?”

I place my arms across my chest and sly smile slowly fills my face. Darren's lip tugs and he tilts his head to the side.

“Let's go on a field trip,” I say.

*

“I can't believe you talked me into this.” Darren says it like he's disappointed in me, but he can't keep the excitement from his fidgety movements. “I mean, we're skipping school. We never skip school.”

“Technically, we're doing something educational, so it doesn't count as one-hundred-percent skipping.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep.”

Darren laughs and grips the wheel tighter. He's driving my car, which he's done on more than one occasion. He got his license using his family's car, but since that got repossessed, we let him hone his skills on our vehicle.

“What's our excuse for being here without classmates?” Darren asks as I open my window and let my arm fly around in the breeze.

“I took care of that already. We're homeschooled. You're Joey Clayton. I'm Barb Clayton. We're siblings and our mother called to make the appointment. She sounds an awful lot like me.”

Darren half laughs and then looks sideways at me. After a few beats he says, “This isn't like you. You never break the rules …you don't seem all that nervous about what we're going to do.”

I slouch further in my seat and pull my arm in. Under my breath, I say, “It's hard to care when your only two family members are lying to you. If you can't trust family, who can you trust?”

Darren reaches across the middle console and rests a hand on my knee. He doesn't let go until we park the car.

*

“So nice to have you, Joey and Barb. Please sign in here.” The woman at the entrance to the Visitor's Center gestures to the notebook in front of her. Luckily she's new so she couldn't possibly recognize me as the recluse scientist's daughter. The women who work in this building rotate in and out of here often. ‘Joey' does the honors of signing in as I look around.

This is where SEAD has some exhibits and talks about the work they do. But this isn't where my dad works. I walk down the hallway on the left and look out the window through the back of the building.

There, in all its gleaming metal glory, is where the
real
SEAD work happens. Surrounded by a barbed-wire fence, the entrance is about a half mile from the Visitor's Center. That's where the answers are.

“Barb, the tour is about to start,” the woman from the entrance says with a smile.

“Oh great.” I smile back.

When I get back to the lobby it's full with a busload of students. Perfect. We start the tour with a video. I've seen it so many times I could recite it word for word. Not to mention it's a little weird watching my father in every other scene.

“Time to put the plan in motion,” I whisper to Darren. He nods and squeezes my hand once. He didn't really like the plan. Probably because this is where his part in it ends until he drives us home.

“Cover for me.”

In the dark theater with seventy other kids whispering, and moving around to sit by friends, I easily slip out unnoticed.

The back of the SEAD lab sits closest to the road, so I exit the Visitor's Center and turn right. The tour lasts about three hours, so that's all the time I have to complete my mission. The Arizona sun beats down as I jog along the edge of the desolate road.

Breathing heavy and sweating like crazy, I stop with my hands on my hips behind the SEAD building, on the wrong side of the fence. It's only half a football field from the fence to the back entrance. I scour the ground for the easiest way to get to the other side. A few yards down, there's a bush entwined with the fence. I hurry to it and push my hands inside the rough branches. The ground isn't as hard here, thanks to the roots. I drop to my knees and start digging and pulling at the fence.

It takes about thirty minutes to make a path big enough for me to squeeze through. I grit my teeth and push through the branches, my flannel shirt getting stuck on every twig. I stop resisting the pull and let the shrub claim it, leaving just my tank top. As I slide through the fence, the branches scrape at every piece of exposed skin. I'll have to come up with some logical explanation, if Dad even notices.

Finally, I find myself on the other side. I cling to the fence for a few seconds to compose myself and then take off running toward the door on the back of the building.