“I never get bored,” she said firmly. “I’m going to help your mother by creating a daily schedule for the triplets, with meal times and educational activities. Theresa really is in over her head with the little girls. She has no organizational skills at all, but I’m doing my best to help.”
I groaned. Mom hated anyone telling her what to do. She believed in letting children discover themselves through non-structured play.
“Grammy, why don’t you hang out with me? We’re best friends, after all, so no one would think it was unusual. I can pick you up right now.”
“Where are you headed?”
“An old cemetery.”
“Why would you want to do something so morbid?” she asked. “It’s not like any souls linger around; they go on to better things.”
“I’m following Alyce’s plans,” I explained. “I found this list with dates and places she planned to visit. So I’ll go even though I don’t know what I’m supposed to do there.”
“Did you ask your GEM?”
“It only said Alyce was searching for something that’s lost — which isn’t much help. Sure you won’t come with me?”
“Count me not interested. I’ll stay here and help your mother. I’m beginning to think that’s my true purpose in being back here. Your mother and I didn’t always get along and before I died we had — oh, she just called for you, I mean me. Bye!”
Abruptly, Grammy clicked off.
I wondered what Grammy had started to tell me about Mom as I tucked the phone back into Monkey Bag and fished around for the car keys. Movement on the street caught my attention. An elderly couple out for a walk stared at me, probably suspicious of a junky car loitering in their upscale area.
Time to get moving.
Alyce’s car made a grinding sound when I started the engine, and I tensed, hoping her beloved Junkmobile wouldn’t die on me. The car had been dirt cheap and for a good reason. Fortunately the grinding faded to a low roar and the car seemed okay. Glancing in the side mirror at myself and seeing Alyce sitting in her rightful place gave me an odd sense of connection with my best friend, as if we were sitting together.
Was she aware of her body? Did she approve of what I was doing? Or was she too depressed to care? If only I could have helped her before things got critical. I hoped she forgave me for not helping her when she needed me.
But I’m making up for it now. I sent thoughts out to her like a prayer. Feel better and come back soon.
Checking Dustin’s map, I calculated where I wanted to go, tracing my finger along the yellow highlighted streets, then merging onto the freeway going north. But after driving a few miles, nothing looked right. Where did my turn-off go? I’d read every sign. There was no way I could have passed it.
Confused, I exited and read the map again. That’s when I noticed that the word “Liberty” was upside down. Oops. As I turned the map around and got back on the freeway heading in the right direction, I made a mental note not to mention this small “detour” to Dustin.
When I exited at Liberty, I was surprised how close the cemetery was to the freeway. I’d driven by here a zillion times without noticing that the fence surrounded old tombstones. The land was rounded, dipping slightly then rolling upward, with oak trees shading the hard dirt and weedy ground. There was no formal parking lot, only a wide graveled area off the road.
After parking the car under an oak tree, I consulted my GEM. Or should I say, attempted to consult my GEM. When I asked for information about Alyce’s reason for coming here, it only repeated that annoying to find the lost answer again.
Frustrated, I tossed the tiny book back into Monkey Bag and left the car. There was an elaborate, wrought iron double gate with the words “Liberty Cemetery” arched in a solemn welcome. I pushed it open. My feet crunched on rough grass as I entered the cemetery. I saw a pretty white gazebo and walked over to it, and found a sign containing all the names of those buried at the historical site. As I walked around, I read plaques dating back to the mid-1800s on gravestones that rose out of the ground like pale ghosts. Many were faded, made of rough-stone, but the area around them was well-kept and free of weeds.
I walked slowly from gravestone to gravestone, reading names and trying to guess what Alyce was looking for. Most of the graves were for pioneers and early settlers of the town of Liberty, which no longer existed. Some gravesites were adorned with real or fake flowers and bore inscriptions like “gone but not forgotten” or stating relationships like “mother,” “father,” or “son.” There were a lot of small graves, many of the children the same age as my little sisters, which made me sad. And again I puzzled over Alyce’s obsession with cemeteries. Was this idle curiosity or was she searching for that “lost” something?
If only I could tap into Alyce’s thoughts. When I’d been in a different body previously, I’d had unexpected flashes of their memories, like the body itself was trying to send messages. But I didn’t know how to make this happen or if it was something that I had control over. Still, it couldn’t hurt to try.
Sitting on a bench with eyes closed, I searched inside myself.
Alyce, if you’re here, can you answer me? Why are you so interested in cemeteries? I always thought it was just because you like taking creepy photographs but now I think there’s another reason. Does it have anything to do with your insisting I come see you when I was in Venice Beach?
Concentrating hard, I listened for any kind of answer — a shiver, a whisper, or even a strong feeling would help. But all I heard were cars, chirping birds, and a whooshing wind that shivered goose bumps up my skin.
No otherworldly messages.
Only the quiet of graves.
Maybe I was supposed to take pictures of unusual tombstones. I considered going back to the car for Alyce’s camera but it wasn’t like I actually knew how to use it. I’d watched her adjust the dials and buttons, but I never learned how to do it myself. I only knew how to use the point-and-click style.
So how long should I stay here doing nothing except staring at graves?
I glanced around one more time, wishing for inspiration, but there was nothing for me to do. Except leave.
When the gate clanged behind me and I returned to my car, I saw another car parked there, too. There was no one inside, so whoever was visiting graves must have gone on a different path. I liked imagining this unknown person paying solemn respects to an ancestor; that even the graves with fading names on their tombstones were still alive in the hearts of those left behind.
Cheered by this thought, I slipped back into the driver’s seat. The engine sputtered a few times, then started right up. Good old Junkmobile, I thought, giving it a fond pat on the dashboard.
Keeping my foot on the brake, I waited for a slow-moving hay truck to pass and wondered what to do now. It was still early, and I should get something accomplished. But what? I could return to Dustin’s for matchmaking plans. Except I got sick thinking about going out with Kyle and Zachary and wasn’t sure what scared me more — a guy who might have beat up his girlfriend or one who was sure to bore me to death. Anyway, Dustin probably would be at his protest by now, so I couldn’t go there even if I wanted to.
What I really wanted to do was go to my real home. A strong yearning grabbed hold of my heart and I could almost feel the car pull in that direction as I backed out of the graveled parking lot.
But if I saw my family, I’d never have the courage to leave again.
So it was back to Alyce’s house. But I wasn’t in a hurry to get there, so instead of heading back to the freeway, I opted for the long country route and made a left turn onto the main road. I could use the extra time to figure out a plan.