Skylar got out of the car and opened the trunk, where she had stored the wheelchair Eddie supposedly needed. The guards asked if she would like a hand, but she declined. Skylar positioned the chair outside Eddie’s door and helped him into it, putting the devices on his lap. He clutched them like security blankets.
As she wheeled him toward the church, the guards remained with them. One in front, one behind. They were clearly well trained and took their jobs seriously. Which was why they reacted strongly when Skylar informed them, “You will not be coming inside the church.”
“Doctor, our instructions are to remain with you wherever you and the patient go.”
“The patient’s name is Eddie. His grandparents are waiting for us inside this church. It’s the first time he will have seen them in almost twenty years. The whole point of coming here is for Eddie to feel as comfortable and safe as possible. Your presence is working against everything I am trying to achieve.”
The guards looked to each other, and then surveyed the surrounding environment. There were no trees within a hundred feet of the church. There was no way to enter or exit the building without being seen. “We’ll wait for you by the exits. How long will you need?”
“As long as it takes.” Skylar wheeled Eddie inside the church as the Harmony House guards took up positions at opposite corners of the building. Inside the church, an elderly couple was sitting in the first pew as Skylar and Eddie entered. The couple stood up immediately and turned to face them. The man’s face was weathered from decades of farmwork, but he still looked warm and kind. So did the woman, particularly her eyes, which lit up the moment she saw Eddie.
“Is that my grandson?”
Eddie did not respond. He stared vacantly until Skylar leaned down and whispered to him that it was okay for him to stop acting. “Yes, it is. Is that my nana?”
“Your one and only.” She moved to him, but her husband grabbed her arm, a reminder that their grandson was not comfortable with physical contact and that she shouldn’t try to get too close.
Skylar stepped toward them.
Eddie’s grandfather extended his hand. “I’m Bert, and this here is my wife, Charlene. You must be the doctor we spoke with on the phone.”
Skylar shook hands with him firmly. “I am. Skylar Drummond. Thank you so much for seeing us.”
Charlene replied, “No, thank you. It’s been so long since we’ve been able to see our grandson. We’ve honestly had no idea how to get in touch with him, or even how to find him.”
“His father never told you where he’s been living?”
Bert answered, “We haven’t spoken with Victor since the last time he was here with Eddie, when he was just a boy. That visit didn’t go so well.”
Eddie chimed in. “That was the time when he asked if I could live with you, and you said no. He also told me I couldn’t pick any string beans because we didn’t have time.”
Regret was evident in Charlene’s face. “At the time, I just didn’t think we could have handled the extra responsibility. You understand . . .”
Skylar sympathized. “I do. I honestly think you made the right decision. He’s been living in a facility that is uniquely suited for his needs.”
Eddie added, “Harmony House is a special place for special people.”
His grandfather didn’t like the way that sounded. “Is it some kind of, you know, one of them institutions?”
Skylar nodded. “It is. But Eddie’s right. It really is a special place.”
His grandparents clearly weren’t buying it. “Why is he in a wheelchair?”
Skylar answered, “It’s merely a precaution.”
Eddie stood up, clutching the laptop and the echo box. “I’m acting.”
His grandparents looked both relieved and confused. Skylar interjected quickly. “So, you said this was the last place you remember Eddie’s mother singing?”
Bert nodded. “Michelle sang here with the choir most every Sunday from the time she was twelve.”
Eddie looked around the church’s interior walls, imagining the many, many ECHOES bouncing around the building’s surfaces. He placed the devices on the floor and turned on the laptop. “She sounded like an angel, didn’t she?”
His grandmother smiled. “A lot of people thought she did.”
Bert looked suspiciously at Eddie and his devices. “What’s he doing?”
“It’s a little hard to explain. But like I said on the phone, it would be really helpful if you could recall a specific date and time when she sang here.”
Charlene handed a weathered photo album to Skylar. “It might seem a little silly to you, but I was so proud of my daughter that I kept every program that included Michelle’s name.”
“That doesn’t seem silly at all.” Skylar flipped through the pages of paper programs. Most were from the church, but others were from high-school performances and community functions.
Bert turned to watch the echo box as the device sprang open and the eight satellite microphones started their synchronized dance. “What’s that thing?”
“It’s an echo box.” Eddie kept his eyes on the progress bar on his screen as the device acoustically mapped the room. Seventeen percent . . . twenty-two percent . . . twenty-nine percent . . .
“It’s a what?”
Skylar jumped in. “It will be much easier if he shows you. Eddie, is it working?”
He nodded, still watching the screen. “Forty-three percent. Forty-nine percent.”
Skylar turned toward Bert and Charlene. “Did Michelle have an unusually strong sense of hearing?”
Charlene answered, “You mean like Eddie’s? No, not that we were ever aware of.”
“She did have perfect pitch, though,” added Bert. “For as long as she lived in Saylan Hills, nobody’s piano was ever out of tune.”
Skylar flipped to the last church program, which was in the middle of the photo album. The pages of the last half of the book were all empty—a reminder of the young life that was cut short.
Eddie looked up from the laptop. “I’m ready for a date and time.”
Skylar studied him. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He nodded slowly. She read the date of the last program. “July 26, 1987. It was a Sunday. The concert started at two p.m.”
Eddie entered the date and time, looking to study the particular waves. The only problem was there weren’t any. The three-dimensional representation of the room on-screen was empty. He immediately panicked. “There aren’t any waves!”
She moved toward him, preparing to hold him if necessary, when she noticed something on the screen. She pointed to it. “That’s because you put in the wrong year, Eddie.” He had accidentally typed 1897.
He quickly typed in the correct year. On the computer screen, the three-dimensional representation of the room immediately filled with all varieties of sound waves. Eddie hit “Play.”
The congregation was heard murmuring as they settled into their seats. Then a pastor welcomed friends and family members to their annual summer concert. His voice had very little distortion, thanks to the acoustic nature of the room.
Charlene was taken aback. “That’s Pastor Maxwell’s voice. But he died several years ago.”
Bert asked, “So how can we be hearing him like he’s standing right here in front of us?”
Eddie began his lecture. “The science of acoustic archeology has been around for quite a while.”
Skylar cut him off. “Think of the echo box like a special kind of tape recorder. Instead of being able to play back sounds that were recorded, the echo box can re-create sounds from the original sound waves still bouncing around, even though they never were recorded.”
Bert listened to the pastor addressing the congregation. “This is for real?”
Skylar nodded. “Eddie has spent his life developing the echo box so he could hear his mother’s voice.”
Charlene turned toward Eddie. “Well, for goodness’ sake, fast-forward the thing about thirty minutes ahead, then. Our pastor had a tendency to ramble on a bit.”
Eddie did so until a single sound wave appeared on the three-dimensional rendering. He took a deep breath and hit “Play.”
The next sound he heard was the single most beautiful thing he would ever hear. It was the voice he’d been waiting to hear his entire life, and it came through loud and clear:
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found,