“My pa died in the Battle of Midway. Japanese fleet got him. Actually, it was Pearl Harbor that made him enlist in the first place.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “He must have been really brave.”
“He was. He used to run the farm where I grew up. I joined up right after he died, as soon as I turned eighteen.”
“How old are you now?” I study Lucas in the sunlight. His skin is lightly tanned and freckles dot the bridge of his nose. He has the kind of complexion that makes his cheeks look rosy all the time.
“Twenty years old, miss.”
“You don’t have to call me ‘miss.’”
“Well, what should I call you?”
There’s something about the way he looks up at me through his eyelashes that makes me think of Wes. I don’t know why. Wes’s gaze was so different—more intense and probing, as though he was trying to read my thoughts. Lucas is lighter, easier, and being around him feels comfortable.
“Lydia. Call me Lydia.”
“Then you can call me Lucas.” He smiles. His teeth are slightly crooked on the bottom.
He takes a step closer so he stands at the foot of my bed, inches from my toes. “What are you going to do now?” His voice is serious. “Where will you go?”
“I don’t know yet.” I look up at him. Behind his head, there’s a poster on the wall of an eagle soaring across the flag. AMERICA CALLING, it says. “No one really thinks I’m a spy, do they? Is someone going to interrogate me?”
“No, I’ll tell the officers your story. You’re a girl, they won’t press it. But I wouldn’t come back here again … especially without shoes on.”
“I won’t.”
He twists the brim of his cap again. “I understand how hard it is to lose someone. It makes you do things you wouldn’t normally do. And to lose both your parents … at least I still have my mother. I don’t know what I would do without her or my sisters.”
“Was it hard when your dad died?” I ask, steering the conversation away from my “loss.”
“It was, but it feels a little better to talk about him. Everyone’s lost someone in the war, and all that sadness starts to blend together. You learn not to talk about losing someone, that it’s not special. But I don’t want to forget what happened. I don’t want to forget him.”
“You should be able to talk about it.” I grip the blanket in my hands, almost as hard as Lucas is holding on to his cap. “I don’t know how long I’ll be around but—I’ll listen, if you want to talk.”
He smiles a little and raises his face to mine. I notice that his pale blue eyes have flecks of gray in them, the exact color of the ocean in the early morning when the fog is still hovering over the water.
The door bangs open. I jump and break our eye contact. Mary is standing just inside the room, practically quivering with excitement.
“Lydia! I have the best news.” She sees Lucas and stops. “Oh, hi, Lucas. I didn’t know you were in here.” She blushes slightly.
“Lucas is the soldier who found me yesterday.” I smile at her, but she doesn’t notice; her eyes are trained on Lucas. He breaks her gaze and stares down at the floor. I glance between them, not sure what to make of the odd undercurrent in the room.
Lucas must feel it too, because he starts to back out of the room. “I’ll leave you girls alone,” he says.
“No, it’s all right.” Mary steps forward and puts her hand on his arm. “Stay, I have wonderful news.” She turns to me. “It took some finagling, and Dean is still worried you’re a secret German spy, but I finally convinced Daddy to let you come home with us! We called Ma on the telephone and she’s getting Dean’s old room ready for you. Isn’t it so exciting?” She hops up and down a little, shaking Lucas’s arm.
“I don’t know....” I let go of the blanket, smoothing it out as I consider my options. If I stay with the Bentleys, it’s a guaranteed roof over my head tonight. But unless I find the time machine again, I won’t be able to go home tonight.
I need to get back to my own time. But I’m not eager to face those underground tunnels again, and I’m more than a little curious about my family and what they were like during World War II. I could meet my grandfather as a little boy. I could meet Dean.
A small idea starts to spark inside of me. I’m in 1944, the same year my great-grandfather disappeared. Today is May 31. Dean vanishes on June 5, less than one week from now. If I stay with Mary, I might be able to find out why.
Now that I know time travel is real, it’s entirely possible that everything my grandpa believed about Camp Hero is real. Dean might be connected to the Montauk Project. It could have led to his disappearance. I don’t know how I’ll find out the truth—maybe he did die in a simple training accident—but I won’t know unless I go to the Bentleys’ house. Don’t I owe it to my grandfather to at least try to solve his life’s mystery: What really happened to his father on June 5, 1944?
“Oh please, you have to stay!” Mary rushes over and bounces down next to me. “Please, please! It will be killer-diller, like having a sister! We’ll go to the movies, and to the beach, and you can meet all my friends. Suze—she’s my best friend—she’ll just love you, I know it.”
Lucas smiles at me. “I don’t think you have much of a choice, Lydia.”
I picture Wes’s face, his eyes intent on mine as he told me we needed to return to the underground labs. Now I know why he wanted to take me back immediately. I
