SummerHill Secrets, Volume 2 (25 page)

Chelsea flopped down on my bed, obviously not because things were funny. Clearly, she was discouraged. “What are we gonna do, Mer? Don’t you see I’m doing all this for you? So you won’t freak out when you regain your faculties but have lost your…your…”

“My boyfriend?” I asked.

She sat up abruptly. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe we’re not supposed to force things like this.”

“No, wait a minute.” I thought of something I’d written about Jon Klein. “Here, let me show you this.” Pulling out my desk drawer, I found the note from Jon, where I’d written the nickname for him on the back.

Peering over my shoulder, she read
The Alliteration Wizard
. “Hey, we might be on to something. I mean, if you thought enough of his…uh, abilities to alliterate or whatever, and—well, you know—had him on some kind of pedestal about it…maybe the crush you had on him has something to do with the word game.” She eyed me. “Maybe
that’s
what you two were always doing at your locker—talking in your bizarre language.”

Then, before I could reply, she started getting all hyped up about it. “Yes! I think we’re getting closer to the truth, Mer.” She snatched up her list from the bed and scanned it. “Here we go. This is another item about Jon. Now, listen carefully.”

“What else can I do?” I teased. “I’m stuck in my own house. I can’t go anywhere, right?”

She started reading off something about Jon’s sudden interest in photography. “If it’s any consolation to you, you’d be flying high if you were in your…uh, right mind, I guess you could say. Don’t you see? This must be a major breakthrough—Jon wanting a camera like yours. Could be things are changing, about to become more serious.”

Chelsea got up and went to the window. She stood there, staring out at the snow and ice. “You know, I haven’t forgotten that verse by Longfellow—the one you read to me when I stayed overnight.”

I got up and went to the corner bookcase and started pulling classic poetry books out. Piling them up, I set them down in front of Chelsea on my bed. “Here you go. Which one?”

“So you don’t remember reading about the echoes?”

“Oh,
that
one,” I said. “I almost know it by heart.” Quickly, I found the page. “Want me to read it to you?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“ ‘And, when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence.’ ” I handed her the open book.

A car horn sounded out front. Chelsea got a queer look on her face, and she ran to the window. “It’s Daddy,” she said. “What’s he doing here so soon?”

“Better go see,” I said, joining her at the window. “It might be about your mother.”

She turned to me. “You might be right. Oh…I hope it’s not more bad news.” And with that, she scurried out of the room and down the steps.

I lingered at the window, watching as Chelsea ran to her father’s waiting car. She stopped momentarily to look up and wave, and I waved back.

Curious about my friend’s situation, yet feeling quite tired and a bit overwhelmed, I pulled my blue-striped comforter back and crawled into bed for a nap.

In the distance, I heard a midday train whistle twice, echoing across hundreds of acres of slumbering farmland. Straining, I listened as its mournful wail died away.

He will call upon me, and I will answer him….

I imagined the train, going who knows where, rumbling over hills and through valleys. Speeding toward the horizon and beyond. Who was riding today? Where were the people going? Where had they been?

I will be with him in trouble….

I felt as if I would fall asleep any minute. Maybe I already was.

I will deliver him and honor him
….

In the heaviness before sleep actually takes place, I thought I heard the creaking sound of the windmill behind Zooks’ barn and saw the outline of bare trees toward the east. Far, far across the frozen pond, where “cellar” holes gobble up lost girls.

And for the first time since my fall through the ice, my past blended with the present.

I remembered.

When I awoke, I pulled the comforter off my bed and wrapped it around me. I sat quietly near the window, letting two of my cats rub against my ankles.

“Jon Klein’s hung up on having an alliteration partner, whether it’s me or someone else,” I said to the cats. I felt a little sad realizing the truth.

But there was hope, I decided. After all, Jon probably hadn’t wanted the same kind of camera equipment as mine for nothing. Time would tell about that.

Meanwhile, I’d let him know next time he called that alliteration-eze didn’t have to be an exclusive thing between us. That way I’d let him off the hook. In fact, if I were to admit it, it would be kind of fun to get everyone in our youth group talking that way, sort of a community-wide inside joke.

Even Ashley Horton, bless her heart. Given the opportunity and training, of course, she might become very adept at the word game. Depending on her teacher.

I went down the hall to Skip’s room, my comforter dragging like a royal train behind me. He was out, probably with Nikki again, but that was all right. Life was too short not to be with your friends whenever possible.

I reached for the phone on my brother’s desk.

When Ashley answered the phone, she seemed quite surprised to hear from me. “Hi, Merry. It seems like forever since we really talked.”

“Since the photography contest at school,” I volunteered.

“How’re you doing?”

“Well, I wish I could tell you just how truly terrific I’m feeling, especially now.”

“Oh? Something happen?” She sounded excited and eager.

“You’re the very first person to hear about this. I’ve regained my memory.”

“That’s great, Merry. Did it happen today?”

“Just a little while ago. I was resting, and the Lord brought everything back to me. Clear as…as ice.”

She laughed. “I’m sure Jon and the others will be thrilled. I know I am.”

I inhaled quickly. “Would you mind letting Jon know about it—that is, if you happen to talk to him before I do?”

“I’d be happy to tell him. In fact, I’ll probably see him on New Year’s Eve at the church. I hope you’ll feel up to coming.”

I knew what she was talking about. Every year the youth pastor put together a special “Farewell Service,” which included a Bible study, prayer time, and lots of special music. We usually finished up the old year on our knees in prayer.

“Well, I’ll have to see what my parents think, but maybe it’ll work out for me to come.”

“Great,” she said. She paused before going on. “Uh…Merry, could I ask you a question? It’s about Jon’s word game—alliteration-eze, I believe he calls it.”

“Sure. What do you want to know?” I said, not feeling the least bit intimidated.

“How hard is it to talk that way?”

“To be honest, Ashley, if you practice, you should be able to catch on pretty fast.”

“Really?”

“Sounds like it’s important to you.”
Like it is to Jon
, I thought.

She laughed softly. “It’s a challenge—that’s all, really. Most people think I’m a little dense. Maybe if I can do this, like Jon and you do, maybe it’ll stretch my mind. You know what I mean?”

Now I was the one chuckling. “Sure, Ashley, I know exactly what you mean. And I know just the person to help you get the hang of it.”

“Really? Are you saying
you’ll
help me?”

I reached down to stroke Lily White. “Won’t Jon be surprised?”

“Maybe we can outdo him someday,” Ashley said.

I switched the phone to my left ear. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”

She laughed, and I knew this was a genius idea!

Chelsea called right after supper. “You’ll never guess what,” she said the minute I answered the phone.

“I hope this has something to do with your mom.”

“She’s home, Merry! My mom’s sitting right here in our living room.”

“You’re kidding! This is fantastic. What happened to make her change her mind?”

Chelsea was chuckling. “Your pictures, Mer. She kept looking at them after we left on Christmas Eve. Something started working on her heart, and she really began to miss Daddy and me. She missed us so much that she convinced her therapist and doctors to allow us to come for another visit.”

“And that’s where you were going when your dad stopped by this afternoon?”

“Oh, I can’t believe this is happening,” she said. “It’s absolutely the best possible New Year’s gift.”

“I’m truly happy for you, Chelsea.” Then after we discussed all the details of her mother’s return, I told her
my
news.

“I remember everything!” I announced.

She couldn’t stop talking about it. “Do you think maybe all that reminiscing we did together—you know, my list and everything—do you think it might’ve helped?”

“Oh, I’m sure it did. So did your prayers.”

“It’s really special when friends can do something like this for each other,” she said. “Your idea about taking pictures of me for my mom sparked something deep in her and…well, you know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?”

I knew. We’d touched each other’s lives in a powerful, meaningful way. Thanks to friendship—and prayers.

As it turned out, I did get to go for a short time to the New Year’s Eve service at church. Mom made sure I was bundled up, and Dad drove me into town with the car heater going full blast.

Jon, Lissa, Ashley, and all the others congratulated me on being well enough to show up.

“Lookin’ like lots of lively links to our language.” Jon glanced around at the group. “Everyone’s eager to exercise energy and—”

“You just wait,” I interrupted, referring to Ashley’s and my secret plan to outwit him. Boy, was the Alliteration Wizard in for it!

“Aha, do I detect a duel, dear Merry?”

My heart didn’t do a single somersault. I stood tall and said, friend to friend, “We’ll have a contest very soon.”

Grinning with delight, Jon motioned for me to sit with him for the devotional, which I did.

The next day, the first of the New Year, I spent part of the afternoon with Rachel Zook and her younger brother and sisters—Levi too. He took me for a short ride in his car, and while we rode we communicated.

It wasn’t akin to alliteration-eze, but a language that has been universal since the beginning of time. We sang—in two-part harmony—mostly Christmas carols. It seemed like a fun thing to do, especially since I’d missed out on the caroling around SummerHill. And Levi had missed out on singing in harmony most of his life because of his Amish upbringing.

“It’s wonderful-gut seein’ ya all smiles again, Merry,” he said, turning into their long lane.

“And I’m very glad you came home for Christmas, Levi,” I said, returning his smile.

There was no reaching for my hand or anything else romantic. Levi stopped the car and turned to look at me. “You and I must go ice skating before I go back to Virginia to school.

Jah?”

I gasped. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s what people often say after a car wreck, too. But ya can’t be waitin’ much longer, Merry. You need to get back on your skates.”

I had all sorts of excuses, though. “My skates are completely ruined.”