The room turned quiet, hushed, as if secrets were about to be revealed. The only sound came from the ocean breeze rushing past the house and the occasional crackle of the fire.
“Oh, fair warning, there will also be”—Jack paused as if searching for the right word—“challenges presented. They will not be worth any points, but if you refuse to meet the challenge, you will be disqualified and sent home. Do we all understand?”
Andre shook his head. “Not really, Jack.”
“I can hardly blame you,” Jack said, still playing the enigmatic Mastermind. “But let’s begin, shall we?”
Outside, the wind blew harder. Lucy took a deep breath.
Let the games begin.
* * *
—
As the wind picked up, it rattled the shutters and sent the fire in the fireplace flickering.
Jack waited. The wind died as if he’d asked it to, and it politely obliged.
He began to speak:
On the moon is a room
With a green glass door.
I can’t go in.
You can’t go in.
What is it for?
Kittens go in.
Puppies too.
But no cats and no dogs.
A drill but not a screw.
A queen but not a king.
A rabbi but not a priest.
Kisses allowed but no hugs.
Not in the least.
You can roll there but not rock And you won’t find a clock
In the room on the moon
With the green glass door.
Jill can go in.
Jack can’t go in.
So what is it for?
Chapter Fourteen
A long silence followed. Jack said, “Two points for the first to correctly guess the secret. One point for the runner-up. Do not reveal the secret if and when you do finally guess it. Just play along…”
“O…kay,” Dustin said. “Got a hint?” He laughed nervously.
“Of course,” Jack said. “I’ll give you many, many hints.”
Lucy took a deep breath.
Jack turned and chose a book off a shelf. “A book can pass through the door,” he said. He opened the book and held up a page. “But not a single page can pass.”
“What?” Andre asked. He looked around wildly as if searching for clues.
Jack put the book back on the shelf. He started a slow walk around the room. “Coffee can pass through the green glass door,” he said as he poured the coffee into a cup and held the cup high as if making a toast. “But not in a mug. Coffee can pass, but not tea.”
Melanie said, “Okay, anyone else confused?”
Jack walked over, clapped a hand onto Hugo’s shoulder. “Hugo can’t pass through the door, but Mr. Reese can.”
“Oh, Lord.” Hugo groaned so loudly Lucy giggled.
Jack pointed at her. “You can giggle through the door, but you can’t laugh.”
“Okay, what the hell are you talking about?” Andre demanded. “I don’t even know what he’s talking about. Anybody?”
“You have to figure it out yourself,” Hugo said. “Welcome to my world.”
Jack gave a soft, rather wicked little laugh. Lucy could tell he was enjoying himself. Good thing he was enjoying himself. No one else seemed to be having fun.
He walked back to the fireplace and pointed at the painting above it. “A Picasso,” Jack said. “It can pass through the green glass door. But not any old painting.”
“It’s not a Picasso,” Hugo said, glaring. “I did that one.”
“It’s very nice,” Lucy said. The painting was eye-catching, bright with wild colors, trees and sand and a house made of squares and triangles.
“You can’t pass a compliment through the door either,” Jack said. “But you can send through a bit of flattery.”
“Useless,” Dustin said, collapsing back onto the sofa.
Melanie buried her face in her hands. “What are you talking about?” When she lifted her head, she didn’t look quite so perfectly put together as before.
“Shall I give you all another hint?” Jack asked.
They all loudly said, “Yes!”
Jack pointed his finger and scanned the room with it. It landed on Andre. “Andre—what was the last movie you watched?”
“Ah…” He thought about it a second. “Probably Star Wars, with my son.”
“Excellent.” Jack rubbed his hands together. “I’ve actually heard of that one. Let’s see…” He snapped his fingers. “Here we go. You can pass Harrison Ford through the door. And also Mark Hamill. You may send in Carrie Fisher, may she rest in peace. And also Princess Leia. But Han Solo isn’t allowed, and neither is Luke Skywalker. Billy Dee Williams can pass through the green glass door three times. But certainly, never Darth Vader. He shall not pass.”
“Heroes can go through? Not villains?”
“Picasso was not a hero,” Hugo said. “Ask any of his mistresses.”
“True,” Jack said. “But his mistresses are also welcome through the door. As are villains.”
Melanie placed her fingertips on her temples and rubbed them as if a massive headache were brewing. “I’m going to scream,” she mumbled.
“It has to be one thing,” Dustin said, looking up at Jack. “One thing they all have in common, yes?”
“Yes,” Jack said. “It’s one thing they all have in common.”
Jack said nothing as if waiting for them to absorb this hint.
Lucy took a breath. Okay, okay…something they all have in common. One thing all those objects and people and concepts had in common…Carrie Fisher. Princess Leia. A book. A Picasso. Flattery? What on earth was he talking about?
She closed her eyes, thought long and deep. Jack wrote kids’ books. This was probably a riddle a kid could solve.
Something rang a bell…the tiniest of bells when Jack said Carrie Fisher. Oh, she remembered. She’d been teaching Christopher how to spell Carrie. He had a girl named Kari in his class, so it was eye-opening for him to learn that some words could sound exactly alike but have different spellings. Kari. Carrie.
Words. Some words are spelled one way…
Lucy felt a little spark fire in her brain.
What they all had in common was that they were all words. Of course painting, artwork, page, and Hugo were all words too. So it couldn’t be that. Still, something about the words themselves, not the meaning…
Mr. Reese.
Picasso.
Book.
Harrison Ford.
Princess Leia.
Carrie Fisher.
Billy Dee Williams. Three times.
Three names. Three times. Three names. Three words.
Green.
Glass.
Door.
Thirteen.
She pictured Christopher painstakingly spelling out the name Carrie in their thank-you note. She could see his tongue out, and his brow furrowed in adorable concentration as he slowly carved the two Rs into the paper.
C-A-R-R-I-E.
Carrie Fisher.
Princess Leia.
Harrison Ford.
Picasso.
Book.
Green.
Glass.
Door.
Thirteen. Harrison. Carrie. Billy Dee.
Carrie written on their company letterhead. Carrie, not Kari. Carrie, not Kari. Carrie…Carrie with two Rs.
Lucy’s heart leaped in her chest. Her eyes flew open. She raised her head.
“Sheep can go through the door,” Lucy said. “But not their lambs. And a tree can go through the door, but not its limbs.”
Jack slowly opened his arms wide, a smile spread across his face. Then he pointed at her.
“She’s got it.”
* * *
—
She’s got it. Those were the three best words Lucy had heard in her life.