The Invited(83)

Her head ached. Her eyes stung. She sat heavily back down on the short wall of stones that had once been a part of Hattie’s foundation.

Olive took Mama’s necklace off, pulling it out from its hiding place under her shirt. The necklace hung, the thin leather cord pinched between her index finger and thumb. She stared at the eye at the center, which seemed to wink at her as it caught the light. She imagined it hanging from her mother’s neck. She pictured her mother’s shoes, the fairy-tale slippers, and imagined her mother dancing in them slowly, languidly, across the bog, floating out over the water, leaving pale pink lady’s slippers in the places where the magic shoes had touched down.

The pendant hung at the end of the cord, swaying slightly on its own, as if remembering what moving with her mother had been like.

Spin, Olive thought as she watched it start to spin.

Faster, she told the necklace, and it picked up speed, twirled in the air at the end of the line.

I’m doing this, Olive thought as she sat perfectly still. I’m doing this with my mind.

She stared at the necklace, concentrated.

Move clockwise, she told it. And it stopped spinning and began to loop in a circle clockwise, slowly at first, then faster, faster.

    Stop, she commanded, and all at once, as if an invisible hand had come down and closed around the charm, it held perfectly still.

“Jump up and down,” she told it, saying the words aloud this time, because all of a sudden, it felt like it was alive, this silver symbol, and it didn’t seem strange at all to be talking to a necklace.

The charm moved, dancing, leaping up and down like a puppet on a string.

A dark, doubtful part of herself said, You idiot. You’re moving it. Of course you’re moving it and you’re not even aware of it.

She thought of her science teacher Mr. Pomprey, who’d taught the class about natural selection. Earlier in the year, they’d covered the scientific method. Make observations, propose questions, come up with a hypothesis, test your hypothesis.

Olive looked at the necklace.

The silver charm at the end is bouncing up and down, she observed, as if the cord is being jerked repeatedly, like a yo-yo. There is no breeze. I’m holding my hand perfectly still. Something else must be moving it. What hypothesis would explain this phenomenon? I hypothesize that I legitimately have telekinesis, like a character in a movie or comic book.

Was she going crazy?

This wasn’t possible. People couldn’t do things like that. It didn’t happen in real life, only in made-up stories.

Her head felt foggy, and the pain in her temples was coming on strong. She was tired and thirsty.

Hattie had been able to make things move, make objects around her fly through the air. That’s what Aunt Riley had said. So maybe it was being here that did it. Maybe it was the place, the bog, that was responsible somehow.

Or maybe Hattie was helping her.

Her head hurt more.

“Am I making this move?” she asked aloud, looking at the necklace. All at once, the bouncing stopped. The cord hung straight and still, the pendant motionless.

No, dummy, it seemed to say. It’s not you at all. How could you have thought such a thing?

You’re just Odd Oliver. What powers could you possibly have?

“Hattie?” Olive said, her throat tightening a little around the name. “Are you here? Are you the one making it move?”

The necklace began to swing in big clockwise loops.

    Olive’s hands felt prickly, her whole body humming with a strange electricity. Her body was a conduit. A conduit for Hattie to come through.

“Okay,” Olive said. “So, does clockwise mean yes?”

The charm moved in clockwise circles again.

Yes! Yes, yes, Hattie was speaking with her. Actually communicating.

“What’s no?”

The necklace stopped, then began to revolve in the opposite direction, counterclockwise.

“Right, got it,” she said as her heart hammered and her palms grew sticky with sweat.

So she could ask yes or no questions.

Her mind was going so fast, she had trouble coming up with her first question.

“Is this really Hattie Breckenridge?”

Yes, the necklace said, swinging clockwise.

Of course, she thought. Of course it is. Who else would it be?

She tried to calm her thoughts, to stay focused. What was it she most wanted to know?

“Is the treasure real?”

Yes.

Olive laughed out loud. “I knew it!” she said.

“Can you show me where it is?”

Counterclockwise this time: No.

“Did my mother find it?”

Yes.

“Did she take it with her when she left?”

No.

“Did my mother leave? Did she run off with a man?”

No.

Olive held her breath, eyes on the necklace, which was now slowing to a stop.

“Do you know where she is?”

Yes.

“Can you help me find her?”

The silver charm hesitated, then swung clockwise.

Yes. Yes. Yes.





CHAPTER 26



Helen





AUGUST 19, 2015

Helen was in the new house, curled up on the floor in the living room. The framed walls were stuffed full of fluffy pink insulation. With the windows and doors closed and insulation in, it was much quieter. She and Nate finished the insulation this afternoon and had even gotten started with the drywall. Hanging the drywall had been a slow, cumbersome project—maneuvering the heavy four-by-eight sheets into the house, making the necessary cuts, and then Nate holding the pieces in place while Helen screwed them to the walls with the cordless drill. The downstairs bathroom was covered in grayish drywall screwed to the studs and was ready to tape, compound, and prime. It felt good to have one room with solid walls instead of the cage of two-by-fours.