You nod again.

“Pearl, what’s wrong?”

But for the first time in a long time, you refuse to say. You shake your head, purse your lips. After I try to press you for information one more time, you shake your head in tiny, quick jerks. “It’s okay, Grampy. It’s okay.”

I pull back onto the road and close my window, the silence between us like an extra passenger in the car. I know you well enough to know that you saw something you didn’t expect. This isn’t a surprise—you’ve been seeing things like that since you were a little girl.

What’s surprising to me is that you don’t want to talk about it. You have always been eager to tell me about your latest imaginary encounter. You have always gone on and on about the things you see, the inexplicable friends, the fairies, the mythical creatures bounding along the skyline of our small city.

The road turns in a sweeping motion to the left, and as I glance in the rearview mirror, the light from where we came down the bridge vanishes. All around us is nothing but the dark wood. In front of us, the road is worn and crumbling. There are no lines. I know the woods will give way any minute—soon we’ll be in farmland, out in the wide-open day. I hope you’ll be okay once we get into the light.

I drive faster.

No Cares in the World

We’ll fix the place up,” Tom said in a convincing voice as we stood inside the front door, taking in the dust and the animal droppings and the cobwebs. But there was such unguarded optimism in his voice, such hope lifting his face, that the three of us couldn’t say otherwise. “All the inside needs is a good cleaning and a little paint. We can tear out the old carpet—it’s wood floors underneath. I checked it all out. It’ll be fun.”

“A good cleaning?” Shirley asked skeptically.

“You’ll see,” he said. “You’ll see.”

“I bet it gets hot here during the day,” I said. The midday heat made it hard to breathe inside the house, although the open front door did let in some air.

“Thus the lake,” Tom said, laughing. “And the nights are cool. We can sleep on the porch.”

“I think it sounds wonderful,” Mary said almost breathlessly. “Can we stay here all summer?”

Tom laughed again, and this time it was completely unreserved. “That’s the spirit, Mary.”

“What’s the alibi?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” Shirley asked.

“If we’re going to stay here all summer,” I said to Tom, “what do I tell my parents?”

He shrugged. “School trip? You’re working at a summer camp in Connecticut? Me and you are heading out for the summer before our senior year?”

“I don’t know.”

“So pick one they will go for, Paul! I’m telling my parents I’m taking a road trip—not exactly a lie. This is the chance of a lifetime. The four of us! No cares in the world!”