Devoured

  Instead, I’m stuck watching for Remy to pop up around every corner ready to scare the hell out me, and then go to sleep knowing I’ll probably have a nightmare about a girl left butchered on a forest floor. I close my eyes, feeling sleepy, and lean my head back against the seat. The face in the mirror comes to me. I see its hands clapping, with their long monster fingernails, and pray this image won’t be added to my repertoire of nightmares as well.

  EIGHT

  I walk downstairs and Mom’s on the phone. Great. I was hoping she’d be gone by now.

  “I’ll try to find it, Shelly, but surely in this day and age, you can come up with some loophole—that is what I’m paying you for.”

  Mom sees me and tilts her head toward the kitchen table, where I see she’s laid out breakfast—juice, melon balls, toast—something she hasn’t done in ages. I’m guessing Dr. Macardo thought Mom and I should sit down and talk, and this is her way of saying she’d rather just move on instead of rehashing the Remy stuff.

  Fergus saunters over and I rub his ears. “Hey, boy,” I whisper.

  “Look, I just want them to admit they were negligent and have his equipment upgraded.” Mom scoffs in frustration at whatever Shelly’s just told her. “Well, see what you can dig up before I get there!” She turns off the phone and takes a deep breath.

  I sit down and help myself to some toast. I figure Mom is absolutely dying to grill me about the meltdown in Dad’s room, but I know she’ll avoid it so we can pretend the other night didn’t happen.

  She pours herself some coffee and runs her fingers through her disheveled hair. “So,” she says after taking a sip. “Shelly’s trying to have the home take some responsibility for what happened and upgrade all of your father’s equipment,” she says like I didn’t just hear this when she was on the phone a second ago. “And I’m having her talk to the insurance company about doing some more tests—just to see how he’s progressing, see if there’s any new brain activity the home’s missed. It’ll be a fight, but …” She trails off, sipping her coffee again, and I wonder if deep down she knows it’s hopeless.

  “Don’t forget I’ll be home late tonight,” she continues. “The competition is in Boston. Fergus and I have been working really hard and I think we have a good shot of beating that Brussels griffon—unless the judges feel sorry for the thing. A dog that ugly could get sympathy points. There’s a bichon frise from Long Island that’s getting a lot of buzz on the message boards too. I haven’t been able to find any online video of her; it would be nice to see what kind of costumes they have.” She rolls her eyes. “Although, I can’t for the life of me figure out what attracts people to those yappy little breeds.”

  “I’ve got training at Land of Enchantment,” I say, not the least bit interested in talking canine freestyle with Mom. Seriously, who cares what ridiculous getup they’ve put on a small white dog with a bad Afro?

  “That’s nice.” Mom pushes away from the table and puts her mug in the sink. “I might go through some of your father’s medical records before I head out to see if I can find something to help our case. I left some money for you on the counter so you can get something to eat tonight.”

  “Thanks.”

  She smiles at me, but I don’t feel any real emotion behind it. I suspect it was an automatic reaction to my “thanks,” and she’s already miles away thinking about the competition— and Dad. I watch her go into Dad’s study and wonder if she needs to find something that’ll fuel her hope that he’ll wake up to counteract anything Dr. Macardo may have said to her.

  When I talked to Dr. Macardo, despite his efforts to appear unbiased, it was obvious he’s not a fan of leaving people hooked up to life support. He must’ve said, “You have to consider the quality of life,” a dozen times, punctuated by “Of course, only the surviving family members can make that judgment call after keeping themselves fully informed about their loved one’s condition.” I know he was trying to choose his words carefully, but the term “surviving family members” gave him away—he’s written Dad off, just like the doctors.

  I hear Ryan’s car pull into the driveway and honk twice. I give Fergus one last scratch on the head. “Good luck, Fergie, kick some lapdog butt!” I grab my purse and head to the door. “Bye, Mom,” I call out. “Good luck!” I count to three but get no response and head out hoping Ari made good on her promise to keep Ryan and me together in the park.

  “This is so exciting!” Samantha squeals as we head to the Over the Rainbow Café for our park assignments. “I was looking over our training packet, and I so want to do the Mermaid Lagoon boat captain thing. You get to sail around Enchanted Island, and I’ve even memorized the script just in case they have tryouts or something.”

  I stare at Samantha in disbelief as she starts reciting the cheesetastic lines.

  “While her sisters swam happily in mermaid lagoon, Meriope, the mermaid with long pink hair, longed to play with the children visiting Land of Enchantment. Can anyone find Meriope’s hiding spot?”

  Samantha pauses, looking around with wide eyes as if she’s actually waiting for a boatload of kids to take their fingers out of their noses long enough to spot the fiberglass mermaid hidden in the rocks under the crushing weight of the waterfall.

  When we were little, Remy and I always laughed at the poor mermaid statue getting severely pounded by the unnaturally blue water pumped out above her. Once the boat docked at the water park on the other side of the small island, some Land of Enchantment person playing Meriope—complete with the legs our laughter “magically” gave her—greeted us with a Super Soaker water gun. Nothing says “fun” like a mermaid packing heat.

  Samantha nods, with a wild smile on her face, and points off to the side of the path. “Yes, you’re right, there’s Meriope! Wouldn’t you like to play with her too?”

  Ryan and I exchange looks, and I’m relieved he looks as disturbed as I feel.

  “You nailed it, Sam,” he says without any enthusiasm.

  “It made me wish I was a kid again,” I lie, finding it hard to believe she’s seventeen and not seven. Of course, she’s exactly the kind of person they want working here— Samantha Lee Darling has found a home.

  “Really?” she asks.

  I nod. “Definitely.” Of course, I really want to refer her to Dr. Macardo, because taking the time to memorize such complete drivel is surely a sign of mental illness. Her being the ditz that she is also makes me worry about her ability to safely navigate a boat. I do have to admit I can see the four-and-under crowd totally eating up her schmaltzy performance, though.

  “I checked off copilot on my application,” Ryan says. “I didn’t think I’d be up for the captain spot—it’s a little girly.”

  “Thank God!” I say. “If you’d put in for that, I would’ve had no choice but to break up. As it is, I’m a little freaked out you signed up for copilot.”

  “You know I like boats,” he says, looking embarrassed.

  I raise one eyebrow. “Boats filled with cranky toddlers?”

  “Well, no,” he says.

  Samantha shakes her head. “If you’re doing your job right, they won’t be cranky. But anyway, I was reading the info packet, and it doesn’t take much to get bumped up the salary chain. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make level four and breathe some life into my bank account.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble moving up a level,” I add.

  “Megan!”

  I turn to see Ari booking down a path in a rainbow-striped golf car.

  “Hey!” I call out.

  She parks the cart and leaps out. “Oh my God, I have to talk to you!”

  “Ryan and Samantha, meet Ari—her dad owns the park,” I say as she bounds toward us.

  “Your dad owns the park?” Samantha asks.

  “Sadly, yes,” Ari says.

  Sam gawks at her. “Seriously? Could you maybe talk to Miss Patty? Because I would do anything to get on the Enchanted Island boat captain rotation!”
Samantha turns to me and gives me a look like she can’t believe her luck. “I even know the part by heart! While her sisters swam happily in mermaid lagoon, Meriope, the mermaid with long pink hair, longed to play with the chil—”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Ari says, holding up a hand in Samantha’s face. She stares at Samantha for a second and then blinks twice. “It’s more than obvious you’d be great, and while I can’t make you any promises, I’ll see what I can do.”

  Samantha pumps her fists in the air. “Oh, thank you so much!”

  “You’re welcome,” Ari says. She gives me a sideways glance, and it’s obvious she’s picked up on the fact that Samantha’s completely deranged. “Hi,” she says, turning to Ryan and thrusting out a hand. “I’ve heard so much about you. Do you have any requests? Are you dying to be a captain too?”

  Ryan shakes his head and blushes a bit. “No. I’m just hoping I get to work with my girls.” He puts his arms around me and Samantha, and I could crawl under a rock.

  Ari gives Ryan an incredulous look. “How very Hugh Hefner of you.”

  Ryan pulls his arm off Sam’s shoulder and starts stuttering. “Oh, no, uh, Sam’s just a friend.”

  “I told you, Samantha’s his best friend,” I say, pretending to be annoyed with her. In reality I’m hoping that if Ryan hears this stuff from someone other than me, it’ll finally sink in that keeping Samantha around is not okay.

  “Yeah, I think you mentioned that,” Ari says. “Hey, do you mind if I steal Megan for a few minutes?”

  “Sure,” Samantha chirps a little too eagerly.

  “I’ll catch up to you in a few,” I say.

  Ari watches them walk away and then gives a low whistle. “She’s a piece of work! I definitely don’t think you have anything to worry about—I mean, who would go out with someone like that?”

  “I think she got dropped on her head as a baby or something—she’s totally clueless, but there isn’t a mean bone in her body,” I concede.

  “Well, I’m sure she’ll have a nice time cleaning up after the baby goats. I’ve got her spending the afternoons in the Fun Farm.”

  I feel torn. On one hand, it’d be fun hearing Samantha complain about the shit factor in the farmyard, though there’s a good chance the baby animal cuteness will trump crap for her. On the other hand, she’d be 100 percent better at the boat captain gig than, say, the Goth girl I saw walking toward the café a few minutes ago. I mean what was Mr. Roy thinking when he hired her?

  “You know, Ari, Samantha really would like to do the mermaid thing. Seriously, she’s memorized the whole speech, and as sad and pathetic as that is, she recited it to us and did a really good job.”

  Ari raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You’re being awfully nice to the girl who’s just waiting to get her sugarcoated claws into your man.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, she’s exactly the kind of person your father would want leading the way to Meriope’s hideaway.”

  Ari shrugs. “Okay, I have you and Ryan on the other side of the park running rides in the Forest section—the log flume, Hansel and Gretel’s, and the Gingerbread Coaster. Hmm. I’ll need someone to take Samantha’s place in the farm, though. Hey, you!” Ari stops an exceedingly tall brunette walking by. “What’s your name?”

  The girl looks down at Ari. “Yohanna,” she says with some sort of thick European accent.

  “Do you like animals, Yohanna?”

  She gives Ari a puzzled look. “An-ee-mals? Yez,” she says with a shrug.

  “Fabulous!” Ari walks over to her golf cart and takes a clipboard off the passenger seat. “Can you please spell your first and last name for me, Yohanna?” Ari says, imitating her accent.

  The girl narrows her eyes. “J-O-H-A-N-N-A. L-U-N-D. Any-ting else?”

  Ari scribbles on her clipboard and then looks up at Johanna. “Nope, I’m good, thanks. You’re gonna love the goats.”

  The girl stalks off toward the café, and Ari puts the clipboard back in the cart. “Some of these foreign exchange students need to learn their place big-time. I mean, they think we’ll fall all over them just because they have an accent. Enough of that, though, because I have been dying to tell you what happened last night after you left!”

  “What?”

  “Luke happened! I did just what you said. I was totally cool—like I didn’t care if he stayed or not—and he stayed! He got in the hot tub with me, and even though I was dying to get right up next to him, I kept away and we just hung out and it was like old times—you know, before I told him I liked him and things got weird.”

  I smile, but a part of me is bothered that Luke got in the hot tub with her. Another part of me wants to slap myself on the wrist for caring.

  “We talked about him going to art school in New York City. I said I thought he should take his time getting his portfolio together. You know, so basically we can both go next year—but I didn’t say that.” She sighs, her face looking peaceful and happy. “I think we may be back on track.”

  “That’s great!” I say, but my gut tells me she may be reading more into it than she should have.

  She beams and claps her hands—a very Samantha move. Man, she’s got it bad. I’m glad Ari’s feeling over-the-moon happy, though, because if Ari’s happy, everyone is happy. “Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for a spa date? We can get a mani-pedi and a massage.”

  “That sounds great, but I don’t think I have the cash for something like that.”

  “It’s my treat—payback for helping with Luke.”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” I say, thinking I really didn’t do anything massage worthy.

  “Well, we’ll just do it for fun then,” she says. “I won’t take no for an answer!”

  I smile. “Okay, I’ve always wondered what getting a massage would be like.”

  “It’s heaven! I’d better switch Yohanna and Samantha on the schedule before Patty hands it out.” She rubs her hands together and gives an evil laugh. “I love messing with the employees!” She grins. “This summer is going to be the best ever!” Ari gets back into her cart and waves as she drives it around the back of the café.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand out as a cool chill comes over me. Remy comes into view, hazy and unfocused. “Meggy, where’s Daddy?” she asks dejectedly as she walks slowly up the path.

  She looks so forlorn, and tears come to my eyes because I can’t help her. “I’m trying to find him for you.”

  “Where’s Daddy?” she asks again, her voice cracking. She bows her head and shakes it back and forth. “Make a wish.” She catches her breath and sobs. “Make a wish.”

  “Hey!”

  I jump and turn to see Luke. I rub my hands across my eyes and wait for my heartbeat to return to normal.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you. I figured your sister had that covered.” He points in Remy’s direction. “She’s stage two right now—transparent but visible.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “I’m learning ghost lingo, but I was hoping we could talk.” He looks around and tilts his head away from the café. “Do you have a minute?”

  I look back at Remy fading as she keeps shaking her head and muttering. I nod and follow him up the path. He takes a turn toward the Giant’s Sky Garden—an area filled with metal flowers and bugs the size of cars.

  “Over here,” he says, ducking under a red speckled mushroom. There’s an opening in the mushroom’s stem and I follow him inside.

  He sits on the curved bench lining the interior and I slide in next to him. We’re definitely out of sight, but I can’t help worrying that Ryan or Ari might somehow discover us.

  “Okay, I’ve been talking to Nona about Remy.”

  “You have?” I ask, my voice echoing in the hollow mushroom. “But won’t she get suspicious?”

  Luke takes a deep breath. “I told her about me, and she didn’t seem too surprised. I think she’s probably always known, but that’s not
important.”

  My heart melts knowing he outed himself just to help me. “That must’ve been hard.”

  “Well, after you left, I got to thinking—thinking that for every person who comes to see Nona because they want otherworldly advice about their wardrobe, there are people like you who really need help … and Remy’s just a kid, and what kind of a creep would I be if I didn’t help her?”

  “Nona could’ve done it.”

  “Yeah, I know, but Remy came to me that day in the costume shop.” He sighs. “And since I’ve spent all of my life trying to know as little as possible about the ghost business, I knew I’d need help. So I told Nona we thought Remy was looking for your dad—and what that situation is—and that the key to Remy moving on lies with your mom, who can’t see her.”

  Luke looks up into the top of the mushroom and I say what he won’t. “And Remy can’t find my dad unless my mother agrees to pull the feeding tube.”

  “Right,” he says, reaching out and squeezing my hand. I take in that momentary rush of peace and catch my breath as he lets it go.

  I hate to admit it, but I wish my hand was still in his. I shake my head. Concentrate on Remy!

  “My mom, she won’t do it,” I say, staring out into the oversize garden, feeling small and hopeless. “I told her I thought it might be time to let him go and she flipped out—called me a murderer.”

  Luke shakes his head. “You know that’s not true.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I really don’t. One minute I think it’s the right thing to do, but then … well, if anything, my bringing the subject up has made her more adamant than ever to prove that he will wake up. She’s even going through his old records, trying to find anything to force the insurance company to order a bunch of new tests.”

  “But if she can see Remy, she might change her mind.”

  “Yeah, but she can’t.”

  Luke looks me in the eye. “But I might be able to help her see Remy—even talk to her.”

  My mouth slowly opens. “Are you serious?”

  Luke frowns. “Nona says I can, but it’s not like I’ve ever done it before. It’s worth a try, right?”