Atancia Page 8

  “Yes. It does relate to astronomy. This looks like a map of the park where the astronomical society meets for viewings. I’ve been there a few times myself.”

  “Do you know which park?” I asked.

  He turned the paper over and wrote directions for me. “They meet every Saturday night. You can probably go tonight if you’d like. They all bring their telescopes and show anyone who’s interested.”

  “Great! Thank you so much, sir. I really appreciate the help.”

  That night I drove to the park. It was far, way south in the Pinecrest area. A giant sign on the gate read, “Headlights Off Please.” It was very dark without the headlights, so I drove slowly down the path to the parking lot. I could see a group of people standing by several telescopes on a platform across from the park office. I parked and walked over to them cautiously. I didn’t want to trip on anything in the dark.

  I recognized the layout from the map. The office, the platform and the playground were the squares. I was right about the squiggly lines. They represented the trees on either side of the grounds. Actually, the trees behind the office looked like an entire forest.

  “Hello,” I said as I reached the group on the platform. “Is this where the astronomical society meets?” They smiled and nodded. What kind of stupid question was that? I asked myself. Who else would be standing around with a bunch of telescopes?

  One of the ladies in the group waved me over. “Hi, I take it you’ve never been here before?”

  “Nope, this is my first time here.”

  “Well, welcome. You want to see Jupiter?” she said and pointed to the telescope next to her.

  “Sure!” I said as I put my eye to the lens. “That’s awesome! I can see the storm.”

  “Yup, it’s cool, right?” she replied.

  I backed away from the telescope and nodded. “So how long have you guys been doing this?”

  “Oh, the group has been coming to this park for years. I can’t even tell you how many. It’s far enough away from downtown that we don’t get so much light pollution.”

  It definitely was far. It had taken me almost forty minutes to get there.

  “So what’s back there?” I asked, pointing to the woods behind the office. That’s where the line led on the map.

  “Oh, those are the trails. They have native Florida trees and shrubs in there, but it’s better if you come in the daytime so you can see everything well.”

  “Yeah, I would guess so.”

  I hung around looking through the different telescopes for about an hour, but what I was really interested in was the trails. I needed to follow them to the place shown on the map, but I knew it wasn’t a good time. I decided I’d make the trip down there again in the morning so I would be able to see better.

  It was a long drive down U.S. 1 again to get to the park. Since it was daylight, I paid more attention to the view as I drove; it was beautiful. The park was deep in a high-end section of the area. Large houses surrounded me as I made the last few turns. On the second to last one, I drove down a road lined on both sides with Royal Poincianas that I hadn’t even noticed the night before. The branches of the trees opposite each other arched to meet in the middle, forming a tunnel of feathery leaves above me. I made a mental note to come back this way in the summer when they would be in bloom. I wondered if they were the fire red variety or the type that flowered sunset orange.

  It was still early so there weren’t many people around. There was only one car in the parking lot that I thought might belong to an employee. I grabbed the map and headed toward a small building a few yards away. The sign said it was a nature center. I hadn’t realized that it wasn’t just an extension of the office. There was a post with arrows directing me toward the different areas of the park which I hadn’t seen in the dark the night before. I headed toward the trail that led into the woods.

  The trail was narrow and tall trees surrounded me as I walked. Shrubs and ferns grew in abundance, and I could hear the buzz of bees in the distance. Although the day was sunny, the shrubbery blocked out much of the light. Birds darted in and out of my peripheral vision, but I could never get a good look at any of them. I was probably being too loud of a hiker. The trees were impressive; some looked like they had been there much longer than the place had been a park.

  I followed the curve of the path on the map. When I got to the spot where the line turned off the trail, I stared into the woods. The drawing didn’t seem far off the trail, maybe twenty feet into the hammock. I walked with my eyes toward the ground. I was very likely to trip on something if I didn’t pay attention. As the trail disappeared behind me, I came to a spot where several large trees grew. I couldn’t remember exactly what they were called—I should have paid more attention in that fourth-grade lesson on Florida plants—but they were amazing. Each was at least eight feet wide, with roots that looked like vines shooting down from its branches. Strangler figs of some sort? I thought I remembered something about figs looking like this. The seeds landed on top of another tree then their roots came down. The new tree grew over its host, blocking all light and taking its place.

  I walked from tree to tree, not sure how I was going to figure out what I was looking for. When I got to the third tree in the group, I stopped. Something about this one seemed different. I inspected it from top to bottom, but I couldn’t figure it out. I decided to climb it; maybe I could get a better view of the top that way. I hadn’t climbed a tree since I was twelve, but this one didn’t look difficult. The way the roots had come down and thickened made for an abundance of hand and footholds. I didn’t have any trouble getting up the base. Once on top, I looked up at the branches above me; nothing seemed odd about them at all. When I looked down though, I saw something interesting. The host tree that this one had attached to had died a very long time ago. If I took two steps forward, I would fall into the hole where the tree’s center had once been. This tree was hollow.

  I crouched at the edge of the hole and looked in. It was only about three feet wide; I wasn’t sure I could fit inside without trouble. Plus, I wasn’t fond of that idea anyway; I didn’t want a bunch of bugs crawling on me. I peered into the hole, trying to make out if anything was inside, but it was too dark and deep. I cursed myself for not thinking to bring a flashlight. I could go back to get one and come another time, but the curiosity was too great. I took a deep breath and reached into the hole, letting my fingers run along the edge. I put my entire arm in but felt nothing. I could only reach the edge closest to me; my hand couldn’t get far down the opposite side.

  I stood up and took hold of a branch growing to my right; my footing was precarious at best. There was a large gap between where I was and the nearest space wide enough to hold me steadily. I leaned on the branch and reached my foot out toward the other side of the gap. Just as I was about to put my foot down, I felt something buzz by my hand. I shifted my eyes toward it but doing so caused me to look down. I was more than twelve feet above ground. My head spun for a second, and I brought my foot back. I turned my focus toward the supporting branch again and took a deep breath before counting it off. One, two, three … right foot over. The left one followed, and I was across. What was I doing? Maybe it would have been better to climb down and come back up the other side with a flashlight. I was just being impatient.

  I squatted again and reached into the hole. The first foot down there was nothing, but just as the length of my arm was running out, I found it—a large crack in the wood. I couldn’t tell whether it was there naturally or if someone had carved it, but when I reached inside I could feel something hard and smooth like metal. It was the corner of something cubed. I tugged at it, but it wouldn’t budge so I started to wiggle it back and forth. Slowly, I was able to force it from its hiding spot.

  As I pulled it up, I could see that it was a small metal box. The front had a small lock. It was filthy, and a few dead insect bodies clung to the sides, but otherwise it looked unscathed. No one had tried to crack or jam it open. It
was small enough to fit into the lower pocket of my cargo pants. I stuffed it in and made my way down the tree, making sure not to look down lest the vertigo return to drop me on my butt.

  Once home, I went to my room and took out the box. I placed it on my dresser and just stared at it. I didn’t know whether I should try to pick the lock or smash it; it didn’t look like it would be difficult to break. As I was deciding, I heard Nana call from downstairs. I left the box and went to see what she needed. “Atty, can you help me get the mixer out? It’s heavy, but I promised Juliana that I’d make her a tres leches for her birthday lunch.”

  Juliana was our neighbor from a couple houses over. I pulled the mixer from the lower cabinet and put it on the counter for her. She wasn’t exaggerating about it being heavy. It had to weigh 20 pounds. “Do you need anything else?” I asked her.

  “No, that was it. I can take care of the rest. Just cracking eggs now.”

  “OK. Hey, is the tool kit in the closet? I can’t find the key to something. I need to open it.”

  “Yes, the tools are in the closet but before you go there, try the junk drawer; you know there’s a bunch of keys in there. I don’t even know what most of them are for; I just put them in there in case I ever figure it out,” she told me, a helpful smile on her face.

  “I always forget about those! How long have you been putting them in there?” I asked.

  “As long as we’ve lived here. And some of them are from my apartment, I just dumped them in there when we moved here.”

  I opened the drawer and grabbed every key I saw before running back toward the stairs.

  “Thanks, Nana!”

  In my room, I sorted through the keys. Nana was right, there were all sorts of them. If this box was from my mother, maybe she’d left the key. At first I thought they would all be too big or not match the box. Then I saw it—a small key the same color metal as the lock on the box I’d found. I couldn’t believe that it would be that easy to open. I inserted the key and held my breath as it clicked in place with just a slight turn. I opened the box slowly, my heart racing. Inside was a piece of paper the same color as the one with the map of the park. It was folded in fours to fit in the box. I unfolded it and saw that it was another map. I felt ill for a moment: How many places would I have to search? Then I truly looked at it and my heart jumped with excitement. It was a map of my house!

  I searched the drawings to see if there was an “x” or some other sign of what I was looking for. I found it inside the part that showed the closet next to the stairs on the first floor. Actually, it looked like it was in the stairs themselves. I ran back downstairs and opened the closet’s folding doors. There was so much stuff in there: cleaning supplies, tools, Christmas decorations we had only recently finished putting away. I started moving stuff out quietly, glad that Nana was busy with her cake so she wouldn’t try to move things too.

  I emptied the entire side next to the staircase and walked in. There was nothing out of the ordinary back there, just the wall. I squatted, hoping to get a closer look at the wall. There didn’t seem to be any lines in it, nowhere it might have been cut. I squatted there for a few seconds before I saw it: the baseboard. It was old; Nana had never replaced it. We had never changed the tile floors, so there had never been cause to get new baseboards. It looked like the installer measured wrong and, rather than getting one long plank in there, there were two short ones stuck together. The line was odd though, rough. All the boards bordering the rest of the house were cut very neatly. I tried to pull it back with my fingers but quickly realized that wouldn’t work. I peeked out of the closet for a moment and grabbed the tool kit. I sorted through the mess of tools on top and finally found a pry bar. I went back in the closet and jammed the bar into the edge of the baseboard. It took me a few moments, but I got it out. There was a small hole in the wall, just big enough for my hand to fit. I reached in and felt a small box. I pulled it out. It looked like a jewelry box, the kind that a necklace or bracelet comes in. I ran back upstairs.

  I sat on my bed and opened the box. My heart sank as I saw a third piece of paper. I’d gone this far, though, I had to see what it said. I unfolded it carefully, wondering how much more I’d have to do to figure all this out. I was prepared for more disappointment but instead another jolt of excitement swept through me as I saw what was on the paper. It wasn’t another map. It was a note: A note from my mother.

  Dear Atancia,

  I am sorry I am not with you right now, especially since I know you need me. Please know that I wish more than anything that I could be there, that I love you and have loved you since before you were born. But it is not safe for you if I stay. I could not continue living if I knew that my selfish need to have you with me led you to harm. Life is long for our kind, Atancia, and it is unbearably long when you lose those you love. The only reason I can function now, the only reason that I am alive and fighting, is because you need me. I will do anything to protect you.

  You are special, Atancia. I say that not just as a mother to her child but also as a member of our society. You are so special that many will want to have you, to use your gift. Do not let them. Use your talents only for your own purposes. I left you with Natalia because I know her to be a good woman, someone who would raise you to understand what is right for this world. If you follow your conscience, you will always make the correct choice.

  Soon you will know the truth about yourself. You will feel it. You will become aware of others who are similar to you in a way you had never realized before. When you meet one of these people remember this: Don’t trust anyone you can lie to about the important things in your life, Atty. It’s a sign that your instincts are telling you the person is not trustworthy. And be mindful of your power. It can cause great harm as well as great good. You will need to learn to control it. I am sorry I am not there to teach you, but I know you will find a way.

  If you are reading this, then I know you went to a lot of trouble to find it. I’m sorry for that, but I could not let even Natalia know about it. It would have been very dangerous for her to even suspect any difference in us. Humans are easily manipulated by our kind, and she could have come to great harm.

  I hope with all my heart that you are well and happy. And I hope even more that one day you will be strong enough to find me. I love you forever.

  It wasn’t signed. Maybe it was too dangerous for her to put her name to it? I sat on my bed in a daze. What did any of it mean? “Don’t trust anyone you can lie to?” That was her important advice? And what did she mean about power? Like persuasive power? I had no clue. I was happy to have the note from her, but it didn’t really explain anything. I was more frustrated than ever. I wasn’t even sure if I could call Lizzie and tell her about it. If it was dangerous for Nana to see it, would it be dangerous for Lizzie as well? I couldn’t risk it. I hoped that when she said I would soon know the truth that meant really soon and not in a few years. I didn’t think I could stand waiting.

  Chapter 11

  I started the week in a complicated mood. I was upset that I didn’t understand my mother’s note, but I was happy that Ben would soon be with me. I sat through my classes in a daze, taking notes absentmindedly and hoping they would be enough to figure out what happened when school started again after the break. The only time I focused on anything in school was when I talked to Christy and Ana about Ben coming to visit. They giggled with me and said we should all go out one night so they could meet him. I told them I’d try, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to give up any of my alone time with him.

  The week passed quickly, and by Friday my mother’s note was in the back of my mind and Ben was at the very front of it. He was arriving the following morning, and I would be picking him up at the airport. I was up three hours before his flight was due and couldn’t sit still. I ate breakfast and busied myself cleaning the kitchen before going to take a shower. I fretted over what to wear for almost twenty minutes. I wondered whether picking it out the night before would have help
ed, but I doubted it. Once dressed, I went downstairs again and tried to watch TV, but I couldn’t focus on anything the characters were saying so I flipped channels a lot. Finally it was only half an hour before his flight arrived. I decided to go to the airport and park. I would have to hang around for a while waiting for him to get out of customs, but it would be better than sitting at home.

  I went straight to the terminal where he would be arriving, but then realized I was going to be standing there for a long time, so I walked toward one of the souvenir shops to look around. I browsed through the magazines for a while, pretending I might be interested in buying them before deciding I had probably stayed too long. I went over to the Cuban restaurant in the middle of the airport and got myself a café con leche, then went back to Ben’s terminal and looked at the schedule on the screen. His flight had arrived; I had to suppress the desire to jump up and down, people would think I’d gone crazy. I just had to wait for him to get through customs.

  I watched as people came through the gate. Some people walked through talking on their phones, others just looked lost, while others rushed toward their waiting families, smiling and hugging them with excitement. It occurred to me I had no idea what to do when Ben walked through. Should I hug him? I started to feel awkward. I decided not to think about it and went back to staring at the gates. Nearly forty minutes passed and still no Ben. I knew it took a while to get through customs, but I was getting nervous. I kept looking at the arrivals screen and back at the gate, wondering when he would be there.

  A few minutes later my heart jumped excitedly. I felt like he was near, though I couldn’t actually see him. I was probably just getting too anxious. How could I possibly feel him coming? But then he was there. I forgot my anxiety about greeting him and ran over to give him a hug. He dropped his suitcase and hugged me back. I felt high, like I’d been hit with a shot of adrenaline.