“What is this thing?” Alf asked.
I pointed to a narrow gap between two hedges—an entrance. There was a small stone tablet embedded in the ground. It was engraved with the words IN LOVING MEMORY OF SISTER BEATRICE (1821–1857). A PLACE OF BEAUTY AND SILENT CONTEMPLATION. Clark raised a finger to his lips, gesturing for us to be quiet, and slipped through the gap.
Inside the garden was a labyrinth of smaller hedges, all waist-high, guiding us through flower beds on paths lined with white gravel. Alf cringed with every step, tiptoeing like a little baby, hopping and yelping and crying out in pain. I glared at him. “Do you need to be carried?”
Alf lifted his right foot and plucked three jagged stones from his sole. “It’s like broken glass,” he said.
“Keep your voice down,” Clark said. The garden was full of shady nooks with stone benches and statues of angels and cherubs, and Clark reminded us that a sister could be lurking in the shadows.
“You should have left me at the polo field,” Alf said. “I’m no good without sneakers.”
“We’re almost through,” Clark said. “If we get closer to the classroom building, I bet we find someone.”
But the garden was more complicated than it looked—the paths doubled back on themselves, splitting into dead ends and infinite loops. I don’t know how anyone was supposed to relax in this place; it was a giant exercise in frustration, and Alf’s nonstop griping just made it worse.
Then we turned a corner and nearly collided with a girl on a bench. She was taking notes in a paperback and listening to a Sony Walkman—but at the sight of us, she dropped everything and scrambled backward, reaching for a silver whistle that hung from a chain around her neck.
“Wait,” I said.
“Please,” Alf told her.
The girl pressed the whistle to her lips.
“Video City!” Clark exclaimed.
And the girl hesitated.
“You work at Video City!” he said. “You’re Lynn Scott. You do Lynn’s Picks, the staff recommendations near the cash register. Don’t you recognize us?”
Our faces were covered with mud. Our clothes were ruined. Of course she didn’t recognize us.
“We were just there last week,” Clark said.
Alf nodded. “We rented Kramer vs. Kramer.”
Lynn blinked. “Wait a second—you’re those guys? The guys who keep renting Kramer vs. Kramer over and over?”
“Maybe once or twice,” Clark admitted.
“Eighteen times!” she said. “The owners keep a tally on a sticky note next to the register. They’re taking bets on how soon you get to twenty.”
I noticed Clark had already hidden the Claw inside his pocket. Every time we went to Video City, he was always careful to hide the Claw from Lynn and her coworkers. He’d manage to show his membership card and pay for the movie and accept his change and carry out the video using just one hand, which is a lot more awkward than it sounds.
Clark started to introduce us but Lynn cut him off. “You guys aren’t allowed to be here,” she said, kneeling down to retrieve her book and Hi-Liter. “I’ll get expelled just for talking to you.”
“We need your help,” Clark said.
She shook her head. “I’m here on scholarship. I can’t take any chances. My parents will kill me.”
“Please,” I said. “I have a letter for Mary Zelinsky. I just need you to give it to her.”
I reached in my back pocket for the envelope, only to find a limp, soggy mess, saturated with muddy water. I’d ruined the letter while crawling through the creek. I peeled open the envelope and saw all of my words blurred together. Mary would never be able to read them.
Lynn observed the dripping envelope, skeptical.
“Maybe you could find Mary?” I asked. “Can you bring her here?”
“No.”
“It’s important,” I said.
“Then go to the store. Or go to her house. Knock on her door like a regular person.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Lynn was already walking away from us, and we had no choice but to follow her. She clearly knew the fastest route to the exit. In just moments she would be out and gone.
“It’s a long story,” Clark said. “Billy can’t go anywhere near her.”
Lynn glanced back at me. “Your name is Billy?”
“That’s right.”
“And Mary knows you?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. I talk to Mary all the time. She’s never mentioned any Billy.”
Now, right there, I should have known something was wrong. I was certain my name would have come up once or twice. Especially after I led a gang of thieves into her father’s store and destroyed the place.
“Maybe a Will?” I asked. “Did she ever mention a Will?”
“Never.”
“Never?”
“Raoul, she brags about Raoul all the time. But she’s never mentioned any Will.”
“Who the hell is Raoul?” Alf asked. He was limping along behind me, clutching my shoulder for support.
“I don’t know,” I said. It was my first moment of doubt all day. You don’t know her at all, Zelinsky had warned me. All this time she’s been fooling you right back. Maybe this was why Mary had pushed me away in the store. Maybe she was secretly in love with some asshole named Raoul.
“Please,” Clark told Lynn. “Just find Mary, and tell her Will is here. He wants to see her. She can come, or she can ignore him. But let her decide. Give her the choice, okay? That’s all we’re asking.”
It was the most Clark had spoken to a girl in years, and I don’t know where he found the courage. But in that moment I realized he was blessed with a remarkable gift. Even with his muddy hair and weird hand-me-down clothes and one hand shoved deep in his pocket, there was something about the way Clark looked or the way Clark spoke that made him impossible to refuse. In the span of just fifteen seconds, Lynn went from looking pissed off to anxious and concerned. Suddenly our mission had become her mission.
“All right,” she said, “but you won’t have much time. Lunch is almost over.”
Even Clark seemed surprised by her turnaround. “But you’ll actually get her? You’ll bring Mary here?”
“I better not get in trouble.” She pointed to a shady nook in the garden with a large statue of the Virgin Mary. “Go hide over there. Behind the statue. Keep your voices down because Sister Ellen comes here all the time, and you do not want to cross Sister Ellen.”
“Thank you,” Clark said.
“Don’t thank me. Just hide,” she said.
We all moved behind the statue and crouched down.
Clark was whispering excitedly about the way Lynn had spoken to him. “I am totally asking her out,” he said. “As soon as I get my surgery, as soon as they hack off this stupid freak show, I am totally asking her out!”
“She likes you already,” Alf said. “Why are you going to wait four years?”
“I don’t want to spook her.”