“A Wish for Clock Island,” he said. “Hope you like the cover.”
Tears sprang to her eyes as she studied Hugo’s artwork. A boy who looked just like Christopher was sitting up in a twin bed while a woman who looked just like her was reading him a bedtime story. Outside the window, the Man in the Moon peered over her shoulder as if trying to listen to the story.
Lucy didn’t know what to say, other than, “Hugo…”
“I read it,” he said. “It’s about Astrid, the girl from the very first book who comes back to Clock Island when she’s older.”
“Am I Astrid on the cover?”
“Of course you are. She and her son hear the Mastermind has gone missing, and they work together to find him.”
“Do they find him?”
He grinned. “Suppose you’ll have to read it to find out. And you should read it. It’s the dog’s bollocks.”
“Is that British for ‘it’s good’?”
“Now you’re learning.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the cover. That was Christopher—big hazel eyes, dark hair gone all wild. And that was her—her brown hair, her profile, even one of her knitted scarves around her neck. “I wanted to be her when I was a kid, you know?”
“Now you are. If you don’t sue me for using your face without permission.”
She put her arms around him and kissed him so hard she almost dropped the book.
Christopher ran out into the hallway, calling her name. Lucy pulled away from Hugo and tucked the book into her bag.
“Mom! Mom! Mom! I fed a real raven!”
She would never get tired of hearing him call her Mom. Even when he said it a few hundred times in a row.
“I saw! Good job. Where to next?” Lucy asked Jack. “The wishing well? The lighthouse? The Storm Seller?”
“Oh, I have a much better idea.” Jack took Christopher by the hand and led him out of the house to the backyard.
Hugo took Lucy by the hand, and they followed.
“Stay right here,” Jack said to Christopher. They all stood behind the house while Jack walked off toward the City of Second Hand.
“What’s he doing?” Lucy whispered to Hugo.
“He’s been very busy while waiting for you two to finally show up. See?”
They heard a sound then, the turning of iron wheels, and the cry of a whistle. And then the Clock Island Express chugged into view, gleaming black and yellow with Jack in the driver’s seat.
“Lucy!” Jack called to her. “I finally finished laying down the track! Want a ride to Samhain Station, Christopher? I hear it’s Halloween every day there!”
Christopher was silent. His eyes were huge. Lucy knew what was coming next and got out her phone to record it for Angie.
He breathed in, filled his lungs, raised his hands, and screamed with purest joy.
And why not? Lucy thought. She did too. So did Hugo. So did Jack.
When you gotta scream, you gotta scream.
This book is dedicated to Charlie
and to all of us who are still looking for our golden tickets.
Acknowledgments
Writing a book is a solitary pursuit in theory, but a thousand unseen hands are also at the keyboard whenever a writer writes. First, I have to thank Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka for taking over my brain in the third grade. Can you imagine getting the chance to play a game that could change your life? Oh, to be Charlie! Also, my deepest gratitude to the hundreds of foster parents and the former children who were once in foster care who have shared their experiences on social media, in books, and in news articles. There is no one single foster care or adoption story. Some are happy stories. Some are horror stories. But I know we all can agree that every child in foster care deserves a happy ending like Christopher’s. I wish that joy and love for all those children and their caregivers. My apologies for any errors or omissions in the book’s depiction of the legalities and realities of fostering. I chose to focus on the hopes and dreams and wishes of a child in foster care more than the intricacies of a very complicated system.
Thank you to my own wonderful parents and fabulous sister for all their love and support. Thank you to my genius husband for spotting the issues in the book no one else noticed. Thank you to my early readers who gave me invaluable help. Kira Gold, talented author and costumer who, like Hugo, has a much-adored brother with Down syndrome. Also, many thanks to Kevin Lee, my favorite British artist, and Karen Stivali, writer, mother, and former therapist (and very dear friend). Earl P. Dean, the first writer to read a few pages, told me if I finished this book, he would be excited to read it. Thanks, Earl, and I hope you enjoy it!
Thank you to my fabulous, world-class brilliant literary agent Amy Tannenbaum and all the wonderful staff at the Jane Rotrosen Agency. To all aspiring writers, there is life after the slush pile! Thank you to Shauna Summers, editor extraordinaire. Your ideas and enthusiasm were priceless to me.
And a very special thank you to Episode 470 of This American Life—“Just South of the Unicorns.” It’s the story of Andy, the boy who, in 1987, ran away from his home in New York to Florida, where he showed up on the doorstep of Piers Anthony, bestselling fantasy author and Andy’s hero. Really, Andy, this book is for you and all the kids who, in dark times, find a light shining from the pages of books.
Thank you all so much.
P.S. Kids, don’t run away from home, please.