The Speed of Sound (Speed of Sound Thrillers #1)(108)

Eddie looked around the church’s interior walls, imagining the many, many ECHOES bouncing around the building’s surfaces. He placed the devices on the floor and turned on the laptop. “She sounded like an angel, didn’t she?”

His grandmother smiled. “A lot of people thought she did.”

Bert looked suspiciously at Eddie and his devices. “What’s he doing?”

“It’s a little hard to explain. But like I said on the phone, it would be really helpful if you could recall a specific date and time when she sang here.”

Charlene handed a weathered photo album to Skylar. “It might seem a little silly to you, but I was so proud of my daughter that I kept every program that included Michelle’s name.”

“That doesn’t seem silly at all.” Skylar flipped through the pages of paper programs. Most were from the church, but others were from high-school performances and community functions.

Bert turned to watch the echo box as the device sprang open and the eight satellite microphones started their synchronized dance. “What’s that thing?”

“It’s an echo box.” Eddie kept his eyes on the progress bar on his screen as the device acoustically mapped the room. Seventeen percent . . . twenty-two percent . . . twenty-nine percent . . .

“It’s a what?”

Skylar jumped in. “It will be much easier if he shows you. Eddie, is it working?”

He nodded, still watching the screen. “Forty-three percent. Forty-nine percent.”

Skylar turned toward Bert and Charlene. “Did Michelle have an unusually strong sense of hearing?”

Charlene answered, “You mean like Eddie’s? No, not that we were ever aware of.”

“She did have perfect pitch, though,” added Bert. “For as long as she lived in Saylan Hills, nobody’s piano was ever out of tune.”

Skylar flipped to the last church program, which was in the middle of the photo album. The pages of the last half of the book were all empty—a reminder of the young life that was cut short.

Eddie looked up from the laptop. “I’m ready for a date and time.”

Skylar studied him. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He nodded slowly. She read the date of the last program. “July 26, 1987. It was a Sunday. The concert started at two p.m.”

Eddie entered the date and time, looking to study the particular waves. The only problem was there weren’t any. The three-dimensional representation of the room on-screen was empty. He immediately panicked. “There aren’t any waves!”

She moved toward him, preparing to hold him if necessary, when she noticed something on the screen. She pointed to it. “That’s because you put in the wrong year, Eddie.” He had accidentally typed 1897.

He quickly typed in the correct year. On the computer screen, the three-dimensional representation of the room immediately filled with all varieties of sound waves. Eddie hit “Play.”

The congregation was heard murmuring as they settled into their seats. Then a pastor welcomed friends and family members to their annual summer concert. His voice had very little distortion, thanks to the acoustic nature of the room.

Charlene was taken aback. “That’s Pastor Maxwell’s voice. But he died several years ago.”

Bert asked, “So how can we be hearing him like he’s standing right here in front of us?”

Eddie began his lecture. “The science of acoustic archeology has been around for quite a while.”

Skylar cut him off. “Think of the echo box like a special kind of tape recorder. Instead of being able to play back sounds that were recorded, the echo box can re-create sounds from the original sound waves still bouncing around, even though they never were recorded.”

Bert listened to the pastor addressing the congregation. “This is for real?”

Skylar nodded. “Eddie has spent his life developing the echo box so he could hear his mother’s voice.”

Charlene turned toward Eddie. “Well, for goodness’ sake, fast-forward the thing about thirty minutes ahead, then. Our pastor had a tendency to ramble on a bit.”

Eddie did so until a single sound wave appeared on the three-dimensional rendering. He took a deep breath and hit “Play.”

The next sound he heard was the single most beautiful thing he would ever hear. It was the voice he’d been waiting to hear his entire life, and it came through loud and clear:

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost, but now am found,

Was blind, but now I see.

Bert and Charlene both had to sit down immediately. Their legs practically buckled. Bert searched his pockets for a handkerchief as tears rolled down his face and clearly weren’t going to stop anytime soon.

Skylar’s chin trembled as she watched and continued to listen. Eddie’s mother did indeed sound like an angel. It was no exaggeration. She had never heard a voice like it. Those who had heard her in person had not lied.

Eddie stared at the pulpit from which his mother had sung. It was as if he could see her there now, standing before him. Singing with all her heart. As if she had never left. As if she was singing to her one and only child. Her beautiful and unique baby boy.

It was clear that Eddie wasn’t only hearing her voice. He was feeling it. As he turned to Skylar, a single tear rolled down his cheek. And then another. And then the floodgates opened. He touched his wet cheek with his finger and examined his fingertip. With great pride, he said, “Happy tears.”