The Incredible Magic of Being

  I feel exhausted and now that the crackling of the radio is quiet I suddenly feel empty and the emptiness is crushing me like a black hole.

  “Is she going to be OK?” I whisper and I can feel the words turn to liquid and spill out of my eyes.

  “We’re not losing any kid on my watch,” he says and turns on his lights and sirens and pushes the go pedal to the floor, and I feel like we’re in a spaceship traveling at the speed of light; at least, I hope so, because I want to get to Pookie before she has a chance to go to a parallel universe.

  Marty wants to call my mom and tell her I’m OK but I guess I’m panicking because I can’t remember her number. I can’t believe it!

  “I remember Joan’s number, though,” and I tell him what it is.

  “Who’s Joan?”

  “She’s my mom, too.”

  “Good,” Marty says, and he actually sounds relieved—his shoulders even relax a little. “I don’t think one mom is enough for you and your sister.”

  APOLLO 13

  We speed so fast in the night with the blue lights flashing in the dark that I feel like I’m in a rocket hurtling through space and I think about Apollo 13 again and I hope that three people’s wishes, if they’re really big and powerful, can bring Pookie back.

  If that doesn’t work I hope I’m in a parallel universe that’s moving faster than Pookie’s so I can catch her.

  We scream into the bus station and jump out of the car and run inside to the counter and Marty finds out that a possible juvenile fitting Pookie’s description just boarded the bus for DC and it’s pulling out now.

  He yells, “Stay put!” as he runs for his patrol car but I run the other way. I know where the bus is. I uni-sense Pookie inside it. I chase after it, cry-shouting, “Don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave!”

  I know she can’t hear me. No one can. It’s like shouting into a black hole after someone has disappeared and is never coming out again.

  All I can see is black smoke and red lights like red dwarf stars getting farther and farther away.

  And then I see a face.

  Pressed against the back window.

  With big wide eyes and an open mouth.

  Pookie.

  Suddenly, blue lights are flashing and a siren is screaming and just when I think the bus is going to disappear around a turn and never come back it lurches to a stop. I keep running because it still feels so far out of my reach.

  The door opens and Pookie shoots out of there, running like she’s escaping a black hole, toward me, even dropping her KEEP OUT bag so she can run faster. She picks me up and holds me tight and swings me around like she did when I was little only now we’re not laughing, we’re crying, and I’m gulping, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” and she’s gulping, “Me too, me too, me too!”

  “How did you get here?” she asks when she finally puts me down. Then she realizes something. “Are you wet? What happened?”

  “Shipwreck.”

  “What?”

  “I lost Mr. X’s boat. But I’ll buy him another one. It was only Styrofoam.”

  She looks stunned.

  “Really. It’s—it was—Styrofoam.”

  “You got in the water? In a boat? By yourself?”

  I nod.

  “Across the whole lake?”

  I nod again.

  “For me?”

  I’m nodding so much I feel like a bobblehead.

  She picks me up again and squeezes me so tight I’m vibrating. And then I realize it’s Pookie crying.

  I hear a cough nearby and look over to see Marty.

  “Kids, your folks are on their way. Do you have all your luggage, young lady?”

  Pookie is too busy crying so I point at her backpack on the road and nod.

  He goes to pick it up and waves at the bus driver, who’s looking out the door. “You can go on!” Marty says. “She’s home.”

  And when I hear that I hug her back just as tight. “Thanks for the rocks. I know it was you.”

  She stops hugging me so she can look at me. “I didn’t mean what I said about Mr. X. I’m sure he likes you.”

  “I didn’t mean that about your dad, either. I’m sure he likes you, too.”

  She swallows hard and nods. I know she still misses him. Or the idea of him.

  “We’re still a family,” I tell her, “even though it’s just you and me and Mom and Joan.”

  “I know.”

  “And it’s true what Mom says, that family is the people around you who—”

  “Love you,” she says, “yes, I know,” but she doesn’t sound convinced.

  “They may not act like it, but they really love you. For instance, tonight Joan wasn’t saying she couldn’t live with you, she was saying she couldn’t live with you not getting to go to drama camp because it wasn’t fair.”

  Her mouth drops open. “Really?”

  I nod. “And she spent all her money so you could go to the last session.”

  Tears spill out of Pookie’s eyes.

  “We all love you, Pookie. And … you love us, too, right?”

  “Of course. Don’t be stupid, stupid.” She looks away and I uni-sense that she wishes she hadn’t said that, it’s just the way she’s been used to acting.

  So I poke her. “Don’t be stupid, stupid? Isn’t that an oxymoron, moron?”

  And we both smile.

  She hugs me again. “I can’t believe Mr. X would let you go out on a boat!”

  “He wasn’t there,” I say softly.

  “Alone!” Pookie continues. “What was he thinking?!”

  “He wasn’t there,” I say louder, but my words are muffled in her stomach because she’s hugging me so tight.

  “How could he do that? Why would—”

  “He wasn’t there, Pookie!” I push back from her so she can hear me. “He wasn’t there!”

  She stops and stares at me, but her eyes aren’t squinty. They’re wide open.

  Behind Pookie, a bus is roaring toward the station, lighting her up like she has a halo, and Marty hits his siren and puts on his high beams and flashing lights, spinning blue and white and it’s so bright I almost can’t look at Pookie. It’s like a quasar is coming out of her head.

  When my eyes finally adjust, her face looks different and her eyes are the Pookie I used to know, only a little different but not in a mean or scary way.

  “Mr. X wasn’t there?” Pookie says.

  I shake my head.

  “Do Mom and Joan know?”

  “I just told Joan he was around.”

  “You lied to her?”

  “It’s kind of true. He’s around in a parallel universe.”

  She looks at me like Mr. X does, like she’s looking into the prefrontal cortex of my brain.

  “Is Joan going to be mad?” I ask her. “And Mom?”

  She thinks for a moment. “You did what you needed to do.”

  “But … do you think they’ll understand?”

  “It’s OK,” she says. “I understand. I’ll explain it to them.”

  “Thanks,” I say slowly, but I wonder if she understands all of it.

  “Yes,” Pookie says, “all of it.”

  She knows what I’m thinking again! Pookie knows. I hug her tight and feel so relieved it’s like the universe itself is sighing.

  QUASAR

  Quasar—the brightest light in the universe, emitted from black holes.

  Mom runs to Pookie and grabs her. “Oh, honey! Thank goodness you’re OK!”

  Joan looks at me. “How did you get here?”

  That’s when Mom notices me. “Is Mr. X here?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Julian swam across the lake to find me,” Pookie says.

  “What?” Mom and Joan say together.

  “Not swam!” I point out. “I took the boat and then—”

  “What boat?” Joan says.

  “Mr. X’s boat. I know how to row from the rowing machine at the sta
tion, remember?”

  “You rowed a boat by yourself—”

  “Until the shipwreck.”

  Mom screams.

  “It’s OK! I’m fine. See?”

  Joan speaks slowly. “Where was Mr. X?”

  “He wasn’t there, exactly.”

  “You told me—”

  “I know, but it wasn’t exactly true.”

  Mom finally lets go of Pookie so Joan can hug her.

  “Come here, kiddo,” and Joan gives her a huge, long hug and I think she’s forgotten about me and the whole Mr. X thing but when she stops hugging Pookie and Mom takes over, she turns back to me.

  “So where is Mr. X, then?”

  “Well—” And that’s when it happens. A searing pain rips through my heart and I bend over.

  “Julian?” Joan says.

  My heart is squeezing and hurting so much I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m going to faint. But this time it’s not a panic attack. It hurts way too much.

  “Julian!” Mom screams. “Call 911!”

  Joan is already on her phone and talking to me at the same time. “Dizzy? Chest pressure?”

  I nod.

  “Heart attack,” she says into the phone. “Hurry! He has a heart condition, tetralogy of Fallot.”

  Mom is screaming, Joan keeps talking into the phone, and Pookie is leaning down with her arms around me, whisper-crying, “You have to live! You have to live! You have to live!”

  And the mantra starts in my head, too, You have to live, You have to live, You have to live, and I think about Mr. X talking me across the lake with You have to live just so I could save Pookie and even though I don’t want to die yet I’m grateful he got me here so I could bring my family together.

  You have to live, You have to live.

  I keep saying the mantra and wishing my family really knew how to find the Dog Star, You have to live, You have to live, and hoping that Mr. X will find the Beehive Cluster and talk with Mrs. X, You have to live, You have to live, and I wonder which star Mr. X will end up in, and as soon as I think of Mr. X and his star my heart squeezes so much I stop breathing.

  And that’s when I realize something.

  It’s not me who’s dying.

  It’s Mr. X.

  “Mr. X,” I manage to whisper to Pookie. “It’s Mr. X!”

  Pookie stops crying and stares at me for just a split second before whirling around and grabbing Mom’s phone, tapping it and holding it up to Joan. “This is the address! St. Petersburg, Florida!”

  “What?” Joan says.

  “Mr. X! He’s the one having the heart attack! Not Julian!”

  “Are you sure?” Joan asks.

  “Yes!” Pookie yells.

  “Yes!” I whisper-scream, still clutching my heart because it hurts so much.

  You have to live, You have to live, You have to live. I squeeze my eyes tight and uni-sense to Mr. X that the ambulance is coming and he’s going to be OK. You have to live, You have to live, You have to live.

  “Julian!” Mom is still screaming.

  “He’s fine!” Pookie yells. “Just call!”

  Joan barks into the phone that she needs 911 for St. Petersburg, Florida. “Heart attack,” Joan says. “Elderly man.”

  “Hurry!” Pookie and I say at the same time.

  You have to live, You have to live, You have to live

  I keep saying it over and over until my heart starts beating normally and without pain and I breathe out a big sigh and Joan says, “The ambulance is there! They’ve got him!” and I say, “I know.”

  PARALLAX

  Parallax—the apparent change in position of two objects viewed from different locations.

  Mom insists that the ambulance check me out. My EKG is fine and Joan talks with the paramedics because she knows them. She also thanks Marty and he shakes hands with me and has a private conversation with Pookie where she’s nodding her head a lot and the only thing I hear is at the end when Marty says, “And tell your moms to buy you a new pair of shorts.” Pookie looks down at her jeans and then back to Marty, but he’s already getting in his patrol car so I’ll have to explain that to her later.

  Joan gets off the phone and says, “Mr. X is at the hospital and he’s doing fine. It looks like he’s going to be OK. But how did you know he was having a heart attack?”

  “I could feel it.”

  “Did he say anything about heartburn or a sore arm or headache or anything?”

  I shake my head. “I just knew.”

  Mom nods slowly like she’s taking it in and maybe even believing it. “Pookie,” she says, “how did you know he was in Florida?”

  “Yes,” Joan says, “I’d like to hear this, too.”

  “Because,” Pookie says, “that’s where he lives.”

  Mom throws her hands in the air. “Except when he’s next door!”

  I moan, but Pookie takes my hand and squeezes it gently. “Mr. X has never been next door.”

  SHOCK WAVE

  Shock wave—a pressure wave produced by an explosion such as a supernova.

  “I’m confused,” Joan says.

  “You mean, he goes back and forth to Florida all the time,” Mom explains.

  Pookie shakes her head. “No. I mean he’s been in Florida the whole time. He’s never been here.”

  “Of course he has,” Mom says. “Julian has been spending the entire summer—”

  “Right,” Pookie interrupts, “Julian. Has anyone else seen Mr. X?”

  Mom and Joan look at each other and slowly shake their heads.

  “Wait,” Joan says, “are you saying Mr. X is an imaginary friend? Because that’s impossible. Did Julian think up Mr. Hale?”

  “Really, Pookie,” Mom says, “I talk with him on the phone all the time.”

  “Exactly,” Pookie says, “never in person, though, right?”

  “Well, no, but … but I’ve been talking to him … ”

  “Right, Mom,” Pookie says slowly, like she’s explaining something to a little kid, “you’ve been talking to him. On the phone. Where he lives. In Florida.”

  “But … then”—Mom looks at me—“how do they know things about each other?”

  Pookie shrugs. “You’ve told him all about Julian, I’m sure.”

  “That’s true,” Mom says, her forehead crinkling, “and Julian has written him several letters.”

  “OK,” says Joan, “that explains how Mr. X knows about Julian, but how could Julian know anything about Mr. X?”

  I’m just starting to feel strange that people are talking around me like I’m the elephant in the room when Joan turns to me and repeats her question. “How do you know anything about Mr. X?”

  Pookie answers for me. “He just does. He’s like that.”

  “Julian?” Joan demands.

  “I want to hear this, too,” Mom says.

  “Well … I looked inside his house. I saw the pictures on the wall of him and Mrs. X and his dog and the ships he was on. I saw his boat in the garage. I knew he was sad. Mr. Hale even said that—his wife died, he’d given up on life and was a broken old man. I could feel that. He was lonely. And needed a friend. I understood. Plus, I’m a uni-sensor, remember.”

  Mom is staring at me. “You spent all that time with him but he was never actually there?”

  “Well, you guys weren’t listening to me.”

  Now instead of Mom and Joan acting almost mad they look at each other like they forgot to go to a parent-teacher conference.

  Joan closes her eyes and puts her hands on her head like she’s trying to keep her head from exploding. “But you never had any actual communication with him? I can’t believe this!”

  “Science doesn’t care if you believe in it or not,” Pookie says.

  Whoa! She’s actually sort of almost paraphrasing Neil deGrasse Tyson! Magic!

  Joan stares at Pookie. “It’s not science!”

  “How do you know? Maybe it is.” Pookie raises her eyebrows at me and smile
s. “Parallel universes?”

  I smile back at her and nod because she’s exactly right.

  Joan is still holding her head together. “Michelle, did you give Julian information about Mr. X?”

  Mom shakes her head. “No. Not at all. I—I just can’t believe this.”

  “That’s why it doesn’t happen to you, Mom,” I explain, “because you don’t believe. You have to be open to the magic to feel it.”

  “So,” says Joan, taking her hands off of her head and sitting down, “it’s like an imaginary friend?”

  “Not imaginary. I just haven’t actually met him yet. I’ve been spending time with him in a parallel universe.”

  Mom and Joan stare at me.

  Pookie rolls her eyes. “Why is this so hard for you guys to understand? He’s always been like this. He can see and feel things other people can’t. It’s the magic of Julian.”

  I smile at Pookie. I’m feeling warm and happy because she actually understands me again. She didn’t forget. She didn’t completely change. The good part of her is still there.

  I go over to her and give her a hug and she hugs me back in a way that means, OK, I guess I’ve been a pain but that’s over now and let’s move forward.

  Mom throws her hands in the air again and comes over to hug us both. “Well, the important thing is we’re all together.”

  “Yes,” Joan says, “one big happy—crazy—family!”

  We’re in one big happy, crazy hug with me in the middle and even though my arms are squished against my sides so I can’t hug back it still feels like magic. My heart is all warm and grinny but I take the time to send a special kindness meditation to Mr. X with a different last line which goes like this:

  May your life unfold with inner ease and grace onto a plane to come visit us really soon.

  PARALLEL UNIVERSE

  Parallel universe—a coexisting universe that mirrors our own.

  A couple of days later we’re in the kitchen when Mr. X calls Mom from the hospital. Mom puts him on speaker. He sounds weak and old but he’s OK. And when he gets better he’s going to visit. In the meantime, he says he’s dropping the lawsuit about wrecking our addition.