Strong Like the Sea, стр. 8

I clear my throat, but my voice still comes out as a squeak. “Where does it start?”

“You know I love doing projects together with you, right?” Mom asks.

“Yeah.” But just because she likes starting projects with me doesn’t mean she has time to complete them with me. The chessboard we started to paint on my wall never got past the grid outline before Mom had to go do other things. “But will you be here to finish it with me?”

“I’ll be with you every step of the way—not in person all the time, but you’ll see. It’s like a game we can play together even though I’m far away. Each piece I give you is part of a bigger puzzle—a bigger picture, if you will. I don’t want to give too much away, but the person who has your first clue will arrive tomorrow.”

“Arrive here?” This is new. “Is it the same person that left the note today? And the shell?”

“Yes.” She reaches for her screen like she wants to reach right through the computer and touch me. “I know you’re anxious. And this is going to challenge you, but I hope you’ll see that anything worth having is worth working for. I’ve wanted to do this for years, and now you’re finally old enough. It’ll be tricky, but you can do it. Always remember, I believe in you.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Pretty sure that’s my signal to give my parents some time together, I wave again with my pinkie finger and thumb out: a shaka to reach all the way across the ocean.

“Love you, honey.” She blows me a kiss and flutters her fingers goodbye. “I’ll call you next week. Same time.”

“Love you, Mom.” I take one last look at her smiling face and slip out into the hallway where a few family photos hang on the wall. The earliest was taken in Japan before I was ever born: Dad in dress blues, smiling with his arm around Mom, a security badge dangling from her lanyard.

The other family picture has the three of us floating on surfboards, which should be a happy scene—I seem happy in the picture—but the image feels creepy to me now with the dark ocean swelling up behind us. Dad says the dark mass inside the wave behind our smiling, faces is just a shadow—but what if he’s wrong? Did he even check what was beneath us before he smiled for that picture? It could be anything.

Diplomas, awards, and certificates fill the rest of the frames in the hallway—all of them arranged in a kind of hopscotch across the wall, like the ones Mom used to play with me on sidewalks. Except this time, I can’t play along, ’cause every square holds a certificate or award that I don’t have. Every fancy frame forms another barrier between me and her.

Even when she’s here, I can never really get to where she is, because she’s so far above me. She thinks different, sees different—sees more. It’s been like that my whole life. I have to watch her so close, try so hard to see and think the way she does. It’s natural for her. Automatic. But I have to work extra hard to do the same things.

It’s like we’re different species; her all evolved, and me, still a sea slug.

The only square that gives me hope at all is the last one, a frame with two pictures inside. The photos were taken a year apart, but both show Mom as a little girl, holding first-place awards. Once for the school science fair and the other for history.

The rest might be too far for me to reach, but if I can win those two awards—science and history—I’ll at least get a spot on the same wall as Mom. Maybe if I work fast, I can surprise her and get her whole big challenge thing done before she calls next week.

I walk to the kitchen with a little skip in my step. Having a plan of my own feels better. If I can solve it fast, everybody wins. Mom gets her challenge, Dad keeps his schedule, and I’ll still have time to work on my history project.

As soon as I find Mom’s mystery person tomorrow, I’ll solve this challenge with half my brain tied behind my back.

Okay, maybe not tied behind my back, but I’ll definitely figure out whatever Mom’s got set up. I turn toward the murmuring voices inside my room.

“Hear that, Mom?” I whisper. “I’m ready for whatever you got. So, bring it!”