Chapter One
"I want you to curl your left hand around the neck just a little more. It'll give you better contact with the strings. Okay?"
"Okay," Fi replied. The familiar melody began to play.
"Yeah… that's it."
I leaned against my doorway, summoning all my self-control to keep from crying. It didn't work. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes and I reached up to hide them from view. They had to do this, didn't they? They had to keep bringing him back. Mom walked down the hallway then, not even noticing me. They kept bringing him back – without me.
I pretend I don't care. I pretend I don't believe. When people die, it's over. They're gone forever. I've told myself that so many times. But maybe all those times, I was only trying to convince myself that it was true. And what if it isn't? What if there are people, "mediums", who really can contact the dead?
It seemed so unfair that Fi was able to have everything. He was my dad, too. Maybe if I only showed that I believe… maybe I could have what Fi had. I poked my head out into the hallway. Fi's bedroom door was open, and I could see Dad's guitar on her bed. But my sister was nowhere to be seen. That was just what I needed.
Cautiously, I walked into her bedroom, sitting on her bed. I picked up the guitar, cradling it in my arms. She wasn't the only one who could do this. I could too – I knew I could. I held the guitar in my hands the same way that I had seen Dad hold it, in all those photos Mom keeps around the house. If I closed my eyes tightly, I could almost see him in my mind. I still remembered. I still remember the way that he'd pick me up and place me on his shoulders when I was tired of walking. I still remember how his not-quite-there mustache would tickle my face when he kissed my forehead before bedtime. I could still hear his voice singing to me at night. Close your eyes and I'll show you how to fly…
I opened my eyes then, and rested my fingers against the strings. In my mind, I knew the melody by heart. I knew exactly what notes to play. This is for you, Dad, I thought, moving my fingertips over the strings. I expected to hear the chords of his melody now. I expected to somehow feel his presence. But instead I got what I probably should have expected all along.
Nothing.
Chapter Two
I tried desperately to play Dad's song, but I fumbled with the strings. My fingers slipped between them clumsily. Why can't I do this? I couldn't control myself; I was again on the verge of tears. It wasn't fair. I did this all the time – I knew how to play a guitar. But why couldn't I play Dad's melody?
And how come Fi could?
I shoved the guitar aside. I couldn't bear to even look at it. This was stupid. It was utterly pointless, and I was going completely crazy. Of course I couldn't contact my father. Since when had I become so irrational? Fi probably remembered the tune from somewhere – she listens to our parents' old records all the time. I tried to ignore the fact that that didn't explain why I couldn't even play it.
I needed to think about something else. I shuffled down the stairs to be greeted by the sound of Mom's voice. She was singing "She Sells" for the millionth time that week. Just the other night, she had stayed awake into the early hours of the morning perfecting it. She woke me up, actually. When I asked her if something was wrong, she told me that something was missing.
"What do you mean, like another verse?" I had asked.
"Maybe."
But I knew it wasn't that at all. Mom didn't think I noticed how much she had been freaking out ever since we came home. She didn't think anyone noticed. But there had been more than a few instances when I'd see her singing "She Sells" again, and then stop suddenly and run from the room. It was Dad. He was everywhere.
"Jack, I think this is the one," Mom spoke up suddenly, jolting me back to the present. She began to sing a slightly revised verse, and when she was done, I smiled.
"It sounds great, Mom," I praised her.
"Thanks," she replied. "I guess I was just suddenly… inspired."
I nodded, a confusing blend of emotions coursing through me at once. I was angry that she and Fi kept doing this. Mom could be so hypocritical – saying that she wanted Fi to stop, that she "hated" the memories, but then going right along with her to bring them back. And I was envious of them that they could remember Dad's song so easily. One song – why did it matter so much? But most of all, I was sad. He wasn't coming back. And even if he could, it looked like I would be the last person on earth to bring him here.
Chapter Three
"I think I'll go for a walk," I told Mom, walking to the front door. I desperately needed some fresh air. I needed to get away from this, from her, from him. I opened the door to come face-to-face with a very shocked Clu.
"Uh… I was ready to ring the doorbell…" he began.
"It's okay, Clu, I was just about to go for a walk," I replied.
"Cool!" Clu exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically. "I'll go with you."
I managed to suppress a sigh. I had really wanted some time alone right now. We began to walk along the sidewalk in silence. Maybe Clu would get a hint and leave me alone. It was mean for me to think like that, but right now, I really didn't want him – or anyone – around.
Something occurred to me then. Clu might be of some use after all, I realized. "Didn't you go to see that medium with Fi?" I asked him.
"Yup," he responded.
"Well, do you know his home address?"
Clu gave me a strange look. "What do you need his home address for?"
"I need to talk to him," I said. "I mean, about a vacation. He's a travel agent too," I added quickly. "Right?"
"Right…" Clu said slowly, after thinking it over.
"Um, Clu, so you have his home address, right?"
"Right," he replied, a certainty in his voice this time.
"So what is it?" At this point I was beginning to lose patience.
"It's – wait, why can't you just see him at his office?"
"I checked their hours, and since it's Sunday, they closed already," I lied, making up the details as I went along. "I really need to see him about this vacation – today." The truth was, I wanted to see him at his house, where I'd be less likely to be seen.
"Oh," Clu said. "Sneaking away, huh?" He gave me a playful punch in the arm.
"Sort of," I replied. "What's the address?"
"Well, all I remember is that it's the third house on the right on Johnson Avenue. Fi and I went there first, but he wasn't home."
"Okay, thanks," I said, just as we walked past the Bells' house.
"CLUET BELL!" Ned's gruff voice bellowed from the driveway. "Didn't I tell you to mow the lawn?"
"Oops," Clu said sheepishly. "Sorry, Jack. Gotta run!" he said, rushing off to his front yard. "Good luck!"
"Thanks!" I called back, continuing my journey along the sidewalk. For once, I was thankful for the fact that Clu wasn't exactly the brightest person in the world.
Chapter Four
I rang the doorbell for the third time. Maybe he just wasn't home. Maybe I just wasn't meant to contact Dad anyway. But just then, the door opened, revealing Mr. Raymond. He smiled when he saw me. "Hi, Jack," he said.
"Hi," I replied. "May I come in?"
"Sure," he said, stepping aside from the doorway. "You didn't come here to yell at me again, did you?"
I knew that he was only joking, but I felt a pang of regret. I was very upset the first time I saw Mr. Raymond, and I meant every word of what I said – but I probably could have said it in a nicer way. "Sorry about that," I mumbled.
"No, I think I needed that," he responded. "How is Fi?"
"She's – great," I replied. "You really helped her a lot." I paused, then added, "That's actually what I came here to talk about." He nodded, waiting for me to continue. "I need your help," I blurted. "I – I want to contact my father." His eyes widened a little, and I hoped he wasn't angry with me for the way I just barged in and asked like that. "Please…" I went on.
"Okay," he replied, and I clamped my mouth shut. It was that easy? "I'll help you."
"Thank you," I whispered. This was really going to happen. And it had to work, it just had to. At this point, I'd do anything. I wondered how he was going to do it. Maybe have me sing one of his songs, or play a different melody… "What do I need to do?" I asked.
"Well, we can't start now," Mr. Raymond said. My heart sank. I had really thought we were going to start today, at that very instant.
"Oh," I said sadly.
"I think it would work better at your house," he continued.
"You can come over tomorrow," I said quickly, trying to remember what time Mom was planning to go to the studio. "At… 3:30." I could probably get Fi out of the house somehow.
"Okay," Mr. Raymond agreed, smiling. "See you then."
"See you."
Chapter Five
The next day, there was a knock at my door. "Jack, can I come in?" It was Fi.
"Sure," I said. I was sprawled out on my bed, reading a magazine. Fi sat down at the foot of my bed, staring at the photos on my wall.
"I just wanted to thank you – for what you said to Patrick Raymond the other day," she said. "It was really nice of you to do that for me," Fi added. "I know you probably don't like the way Mom and I have been acting lately. I know you don't believe… but it means so much to me that you helped me anyway."
We were both silent for a moment. "I miss him too," I said softly.
Fi turned her head and stared at me for a few seconds. "I know that, Jack. We all do."
I gave a slight nod, breaking eye contact with her. Fi was so young, I realized. At least I still had some memories. I couldn't stay angry – it wasn't her fault that she had more luck with contacting him than I did. But I was still a little jealous. I wanted that too.
Soon enough, it was 3:30. Mom was long gone to Hope Springs Studio and Fi had gone to the mall with Candy for the third time that week. Just then, the doorbell rang, and I opened the front door a split second later.
"Thanks for coming," I said, as Mr. Raymond entered our home.
"This doesn't always work," he warned. "Can you give me something of his? Maybe that same guitar?"
"Sure," I replied, running off to get it. A minute later, I brought it back.
He held it in his arms, caressing it. "I think you should try the same thing I did with your sister," he said. "What worked for her should work for you too." He handed me the guitar. "Play it."
I brought my fingers to the strings. And that was when I lost it. The room seemed to be spinning out of control. I was shaking; the guitar felt heavy in my arms – what if I dropped it? A painful headache kicked in, and I closed my eyes tightly. I thought I might black out any second.
"I can't do this," I said. It was wrong. I opened my eyes, leaning the guitar against the corner of the room. "I'm sorry for wasting your time," I whispered, my eyes brimming with tears. "It's not you – it's me."
Chapter Six
I was perfectly content with staying locked in my bedroom for the rest of my life. Or, at least, the rest of the day. And that's where I had been ever since Mr. Raymond left. It had been a few hours now – I knew Mom was home, and Fi probably was too. Neither had gone through the trouble to check on me, to ask why I had become so isolated. They were probably remembering Dad together. Not that it should bother me. It was obviously something that I couldn't do anyway.
I just wasn't meant to contact him. It was that simple.
I kneeled down by my windowsill, looking up at the stars. "I'm so sorry, Dad," I whispered. "I tried. You know, I'm not even sure what it was that I wanted. Anything. I can't even play your song. You're that empty hole in my life… I was hoping that somehow, some way, maybe if I went to that medium, I'd be able to fill it." I sighed. "But I can't."
"Yes, you can," a voice interrupted my monologue.
The pace of my heartbeat accelerated rapidly. "Dad?"
His reflection appeared in the window. "Yes, Jack, it's really me. You did it." Tears welled up in my eyes as he went on, "You didn't need the medium. You only needed yourself – to believe. You only needed to want it this much."
"I miss you," I said.
"I miss you too," he replied. "But listen to me, Jack. I need you to look out for your mom and your sister for me. Make sure that your mother doesn't worry too much. And keep an eye on Fi. Don't let her get in too deep. You have to let her see the logical side of things every now and then."
I nodded. "When can I see you again?" I asked softly.
"I don't know. They don't let me leave too often. In fact… it's time for me to go back now." I could now see the reflection of his hand on the window, and I held my hand up against it. "Will you do those things I asked?" Dad said. "For me?"
I nodded again. "For you." And like that, he was gone.
THE END