The Hidden (20 page)

I read lower. “Yeah, but they only have four flavors.”

“Still, gelato is gelato.”

Mom put in her order for a scoop of vanilla bean, and I got one scoop of lemon custard. “At least they have
good
flavors,” I said as they handed us our bowls. “This looks delicious.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Mom agreed, dipping her spoon in. “Let’s walk,” she said a minute later.

We wandered down the sidewalk, passing several stores along the way. Each window was decorated for Halloween.

“What’s your favorite season?” Mom asked. “Halloween or Christmas?”

“Hmmm, tough one.” I sucked on the edge of my spoon as I thought about it. “With Christmas you have trees and lights and cookies. But with Halloween you have candy, pumpkins, and apple cider.”

“Oooh, good point. I love apple cider.”

“I guess they’re both good for business here in Sleepy Hollow,” I said.

Mom nodded eagerly. “You are so right.” She got that
excited look on her face again, and finished up the last of her gelato. Throwing the empty cup and spoon away, she glanced around us with a secret smile.

“Do you know where we are?” she finally asked.

I scraped the bottom of my bowl and then threw it away too. “Uh, yeah. Downtown.”

“No, I mean
where
downtown.”

“Next to the …” I looked around and immediately recognized the bay window. “My shop! We’re at my shop.”

Mom’s smile grew even bigger. “Go look at the window.”

I glanced over. There was a piece of cardboard hanging there, but the
FOR RENT
sign was gone. My heart sank.

Someone else got it. Someone else is renting it, and now I’ll never have the chance to open Abbey’s Hollow.

“It’s gone?” I said sadly. “Did someone rent it?”

“Just go look at it,” Mom said again.

I ventured closer. The cardboard sign said
FUTURE HOME OF ABBEY’S HOLLOW
. I stared at it, then turned back to Mom. “What does that mean?”

She pulled a key out of her pocket and dangled it in front of me. “It means, do you want to go inside?”

“Yeah, of course. But I don’t get it. What’s going on?”

“Just come with me. Let’s go inside.”

She walked over to the entrance and put the key into the lock. Pushing the door open, she gestured for me to follow behind her. I stepped inside the shop and couldn’t believe what I saw. It was clean.
Clean
, clean. No cobwebs, no dirty windows. No blown-out lightbulbs or dust-streaked surfaces. Everything had been freshly painted with a coat of white paint. Some new bookshelves lined one corner, and the floors were actually shiny.

“What do you think?” Mom asked, standing in the middle of the room, arms spread wide. “I know white isn’t the most glamorous color, but it’s just a base coat. I wanted there to be something other than that old tan shade that was here before.”

“It’s gorgeous, Mom. I can’t believe everything is so
clean
. I’ve never seen it look this way before. But I still don’t get—”

She held out the key. “Happy early graduation, Abbey.”

“What? I …? You …?
What?
”

“I called Mr. Melchom. The rent is paid up for a year. Since it was on the market for so long, I convinced him to cover all the utilities for the first six months too. So your expenses should be minimal at first.”

I still couldn’t believe it.

“Take the key.” Mom laughed, shaking it at me.

I held out my hand, and she dropped it into my open palm.
Is this really happening? Did I really just get handed the keys to my
shop, with no strings attached?
I glanced down at it. “Mom, I … I don’t know what to say.”

She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. “Do you like it? I wasn’t sure what to get you, and then I thought this would be the perfect gift.”

“It
is
perfect. Thank you. Thank you so much! I love it!”

Walking around the room, I took it all in. It was like looking through someone else’s eyes. Everything was fresh and new. Suddenly I could see so much more. I could see myself
here
.

“Mom,” I said, trying to find the words to express what I was feeling, “I …” But I couldn’t find them. I didn’t know how to tell her I was sorry for every mean thing I’d ever said, or how I wished we would get to have more time to spend together. Mere words couldn’t tell her that she was the best mom ever and I was glad she was mine.

She must have known somehow what I wanted to say, though, because she nodded. I just smiled.

We stayed for a while after that, talking about options for paint colors and window treatments, and what artwork would look best hanging on the walls. I told Mom my idea about making it a fall-themed shop revolving around “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” with pumpkins and old books, and she loved it.

When I got home, I was practically bursting with excitement as I hurried up to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to tell Caspian about the shop.

But when I opened the door, I saw him on the bed. Asleep.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Kame and Sophie’s office number. Uri picked up.

“Hey, it’s Abbey.”

“Hi. Everything okay?”

“Caspian is asleep again.” I tried to keep the panic out of my voice.

Silence met me on the other end of the line. Then he said, “Why don’t you just give it some time?”

“Like, how much time?” I asked. “An hour? A day?”

“However much time it takes.”

I told myself to count to ten, trying not to scream in frustration at his answer. “Why does this keep happening, Uri?” I said. “Does it mean he’s slipping away from me?”

Silence again.

“I’ll take that as a yes. One of you is around here somewhere, right?” I asked quietly.

“Kame. He’s in the neighborhood. Do you want him to stop by?”

“Can he do anything?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll just wait. As long as Vincent’s not around, I’m fine.”

He said good-bye, and I hung up the phone, feeling angry and frustrated. All my feelings of happiness were completely gone. Settling myself in next to Caspian, I propped my chin in my hand, wondering how long it would take for him to wake up this time.

I had a hard time sleeping that night, feeling like Caspian was so far away from me, and I kept waking up. Around two a.m., I decided to grab something from the fridge. A snack might keep me distracted, at least for a little while.

A light was still on in the living room when I passed by, and I peeked in. The TV was turned down low, an old Western movie playing, and Dad was snoring away in the recliner. I shook my head and crept back out to the kitchen.

I found a turkey and cheese hoagie in the fridge and pulled it out, checking the expiration date. It was still fresh. I cut it in half and then wrapped up the remainder to put back. After stacking a couple of pickles onto the plate next to it, I carried my prize into the living room.

I found the remote by Dad’s hand and flipped though the channels, pausing every now and then to take a bite of my sandwich.
Halloween III
was on, so I left it and settled in. Dad’s snoring grew louder and louder, until finally I reached over and shook him.

“Dad. Dad, wake up.”

He rolled over. “I’m awake.” And then he sat up. “I’m awake. What time is it?”

“Almost two thirty.”

“What are you still doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Got a snack.” I held up the plate.

He glanced over. “Is that a pickle?”

I held one out to him, and he took it. We both sat there for a couple of minutes, crunching loudly on the cold vegetables. When I was done, I placed my plate on the coffee table and stretched out on the couch. The room was bathed in the blue glow of the flickering television screen.

“I heard that you and Mom went downtown,” Dad said. “To see the shop?”

I hit the remote and turned down the volume a bit more. “Yeah, she took me right after school. It was great.”

“So, what do you think about it?” he asked.

“What do I think? I love it. The chance to have my own shop? It’s my dream.”

Dad looked pleased. “I knew you’d like it.”

“Are you still planning to help me out with the business plan?” I cast him a sideways glance. I’d taken much longer than intended to actually finish the damn thing.

“Are you done with the first draft yet?”

“Yup.”

“Show it to me, then, and I’ll take a look at it. We can probably work something out.”

I grinned at him. “Talk about a great graduation gift.”

He reached over and put a hand on my arm. “Your mother and I are very proud of you, Abbey. It takes a lot of effort to have your future mapped out at such a young age, and we want to do everything we can to support that. We believe in you, and we know you’ll do great things.”

His words hit something inside of me that triggered a bittersweet ache. I
wanted
them to be proud of me. “I can’t promise that everything will work out,” I said. “But I can promise that I’ll do my best. And I’ll work my hardest. It means a lot to me that you guys are so supportive of this. Especially since I know you wanted me to do something different.”

Now Dad looked a little teary. “I can’t tell you the thoughts that ran through my mind when we found out that someone had broken into the house and …” He trailed off and cleared his throat gruffly. “Well, I just never want to see that again. It really
brought home a lot of things and made me start thinking about the future. Your future.”

Now his words triggered something different inside of me. Regret.

All this talk of the future and the excitement of seeing the shop today as such a real, tangible thing had made me totally forget about my actual future.

The one I didn’t have.

The common people regarded it with a mixture of respect and superstition …

—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

C
aspian still hadn’t woken up by the time I had to go to school the next morning, and I hated leaving him behind. I made a quick call to Sophie, and she assured me that she’d stop over to chat with Mom and keep an eye on things. I felt a little bit of relief knowing that at least she’d be there if he woke up.

I spent most of the day thinking about Abbey’s Hollow, and the fact that I’d been handed my dreams on a silver platter, yet I wasn’t going to live long enough to see them come true. It wasn’t until Mrs. Marks called on me in English class to read part of a poem that I was jerked out of my contemplative mood.

I stood up, clearing my throat. As my eyes filtered over the page in front of me, bits and pieces started to assemble themselves into images inside my brain, and I noticed the beautiful flow and rhythm the poem had. Then I really began to notice the words.

We are the hidden people
lost and in between.
So much of none
yet still, begun.
Shadows draped upon our walls.

We are the hidden people,
and when you think the end has come
you’ll turn and see.
There are none.

We are the hidden.
People.
All one.
For hidden you will become.
Something more than fear,
it resides he
re.

As Mrs. Marks asked the class questions about who the poet might have been talking about, all I could hear were the words “We are the hidden people,” and I thought about what that meant. Thought about it in a whole new way.

The poem was about me. About what I was going to become.

Shades
were the hidden people. The other half. Living in the shadows. Part of this world and the next. Here, but not here. And I understood that, in a way no one else could.

As the bell rang, I couldn’t get it out of my head.
Something more than fear, it resides here.

Was I afraid? Yes. And no. But I was special. Unique. My gift was to be one of the hidden people.

It was who I was meant to be.

Beth caught up with me after class and pulled me back into the present. “You ready to do this thing?” she called, coming down the hallway from the opposite direction. “I have my mom’s car.”