If I’d had one of those special cameras like the ghost-buster lady’s, I would’ve used it to take a picture of Bodhi’s face when I exited the blue room with a whole string of (not-so) Radiant Boys behind me.
“So, what now?” I asked, as they milled all about. Narrowing my eyes and shaking my head at Buttercup who’d run toward me and was busily licking my fingers as he gazed up at me with those big brown eyes, desperate for me to forgive him for bailing on me, and attempting to get on my good side again. “How do we get them to the bridge?”
But Bodhi didn’t answer.
He was far too speechless for that.
His gaze darting among them, counting and recounting in his head, obviously newly amazed each time it added up to three.
“How did you—” He shook his head and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes and blinking a bunch of times, before putting them back on and blinking some more.
“Never mind how I did it, just tell me how to get these guys to the bridge before they chicken out and change their minds,” I said, refusing to give away my tricks of the trade, not while I was still learning my way.
“Who you calling a chicken?” strawberry head said, making his eyes and mouth go all creepy again, in a way that made Buttercup whimper and Bodhi almost fall off the banister.
But I just looked right at him and said, “You.I’m calling you a chicken. Ten bucks says you and your friends cry like babies and refuse to even cross it.”
“You forget that money has no value to us. Or, maybe you didn’t forget.” Strawberry head lifted a brow and smiled knowingly. “You don’t need to trick us into crossing over, you know. Your little speech was convincing enough.”
“Really?” I tried to hold back my smile, but it was no use. I couldn’t help but feel proud of myself, and proud of them for making the choice that they had. “Well, the truth is, you helped me too.”As much as three ten-year-olds can help an older, wiser, more mature girl of twelve. “So, well, thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” strawberry head said, suddenly sounding far more mature than his years. “And, for the record, just so you know, we’re almost eleven. Oh, and my name’s not strawberry head.” His eyes met mine but thankfully they bore no ill will. “It’s Hans. And this is Dieter and Wolfgang.” He motioned toward his blond brothers. We’re triplets, and I’m the oldest — by seventy seconds.”
I nodded, feeling bad that he’d clued into my thoughts. I was really going to have to watch myself if I wanted to make any friends in the afterlife.
“So? Just where is this bridge anyway?” Wolfgang said, as his brothers nodded beside him, obviously eager to move on to the next adventure.
Bodhi slid his straw to the other side of his mouth, fully recovered from the shock of seeing them and completely back on his game when he said, “Okay, now everybody join hands. And Riley, you hold on to Buttercup, as we all imagine a shimmering veil of soft golden light. . .”
The trip to Summerland was brief. So brief it included no time for looking around, reconnecting with friends, or getting reacquainted with my favorite old haunts.
It’s like, one minute we’d walked through the golden mist, landed smack-dab at the foot of the bridge, and were bidding the Radiant Boys farewell, and the next, we were right back where we left off.
Standing in the long hallway in Warmington Castle, as I looked at Bodhi and said, “Do you think they’ll be reunited with someone — like maybe their mother? Or has it been too long for all that?”
But Bodhi just shrugged, dismissing me and my question in a way so noncommittal, so completely uninterested, it immediately got on my nerves.
I mean, a little credit would’ve been nice.
A little: Way to go! Good job! Even a high-five would’ve sufficed.
But nooo.
Not only had he barely even acknowledged the monumental task I’d just pulled off, but he also managed to land us right back where we started, which wasn’t anywhere close to London, or a runway for that matter.
“What gives?” I scowled, wondering why he made us come all the way back here.
I’d done what I’d set out to do, completed my task and successfully rid the place of its ghosts — all three of them at that. And as far as I was concerned, now that I’d won the bet, it was time not only for my flying lesson, but also my trip to London.
It was clearly stated in the terms of our earlier agreement.
It was as simple as that.
And no way was I letting Bodhi find some kind of loophole to shirk his way out of our deal.
No way was I letting him get away with something as unfair as that.
But Bodhi just looked at me, his shoulders hunched, gaze sheepish, green straw bobbing up and down between his teeth when he said, “Um, I might not have mentioned it earlier, but there’s more. Just one more thing to take care of, and then we’re out of here. I promise.”
“What do you mean one more thing?” My hands clutched at my hips, as I made sure both my face and voice displayed just how completely furious I was. “You can’t just go expanding my job description like that! It’snot fair! I did exactly what I was supposed to and I got it done pretty quickly if I do say so myself. So, why the delay? Let’s go already! Seriously. Let’s move it! I want to be soaring over the River Thames by sunrise — or else!” I scowled, having no idea what the or else part actually stood for, but still, there it was. Besides, fair’s fair, and I was determined to see that the already clearly established set of rules were not only abided by, but met.
Feeling more than a little confused when Bodhi looked at me and said, “This one’s not for you, Riley.
This one’s for me.”
Apparently, as it turned out, Bodhi, my guide/teacher/coach/counselor/boss had his own guide/teacher/coach/counselor/boss, who, as it also turns out, was less than enthusiastic with the job Bodhi had done so far.
Even though he’d pretty much started his day being summoned to the stage in what I learned had been a sort of graduation ceremony, he still had plenty more to accomplish.
Plenty more to live up to — so to speak.
Or at least that was the gist I was able to take away from his rambling litany of hazy, vague, purposely ambiguous mumblings. Carefully guarding any and all of the details, and refusing to share them with me.
And trust me, I was lucky to even get that much. Because when I started to hound him for more, wanting to know just who exactly his guide was, if it was possibly one of the Council members, or maybe even somebody else — and just what exactly his own job description might be — what was truly expected of a guide — and what were the consequences for those who failed at their tasks — what would happen to him if he failed to help me learn and grow and better myself — he clammed up.
And when I continued to press on to what I really and truly wanted to know — which was why he was looking and acting so freaked at just the mere thought of the task that awaited him — he turned away completely.
Just shut down, refused to speak, and showed me his back.
Giving me the stoop-shouldered silent treatment.
Refusing to divulge anything more than he already had.
And when I gave up on the questions and decided to offer my assistance instead (anything to make it to London by daybreak I figured), he just shook his head and said, “This one’s all mine. It’s absolutely imperative I do it on my own.”
Great.My face dropped into a frown as I snuck a quick peek at the grandfather clock in the hall, knowing that if this task, whatever it may be, took anywhere near as long as mine did, I wouldn’t get to London ’til nightfall, if then.
“Listen.” I smiled, knowing my motivations weren’t exactly pure, were far too self-serving to ever be
