Leaving Wishville Read online

Page 2


  Mr. Koi set his hand on the table. “Don’t force yourself.”

  Nina glanced at Benji for a moment, then nodded at her plate.

  Although Nina and James were only two years apart, they may as well have been six. For starters, James was tall for his age, and his doctor expected him to exceed six feet and surpass his father. Nina, on the other hand, hardly looked older than eight. She had a strange gravitation to dresses, even though most kids her age made the quick transition to jeans and plaid shirts. Benji wasn’t sure if Nina was short because she was sick, or if it had to do with genetics. It seemed the one thing they did have in common, however, was their perfect skin. Their tone was stuck somewhere between Mr. Koi’s smooth cocoa skin, and Mrs. Koi’s pale tan. A creamy butterscotch tone, complimented with their honey brown eyes. Every time Benji noticed their skin he was instantly ashamed of his freckles. He tilted his head downward, hoping they might be less prominent that way.

  “It’s been awhile since you’ve joined us for dinner.” Mr. Koi straightened the collar of his shirt. “How are you?”

  “I’m doing great, actually.” Benji smiled, keeping his head low.

  “And your mother? Everything going well with her?”

  “You know,” Benji said, “everything’s always the same.”

  “Good.” Mr. Koi pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s good.”

  A silence fell over the table. Benji was plating his food when Mr. Koi continued his investigation. “I hate to pry,” he said, shoveling a spoonful of chowder into his mouth, “but what were you three doing today?”

  Benji’s hands fumbled, and the serving spoon splattered on the table, spilling broccoli across the wood. “Sorry.” He grimaced and transferred the pieces to his plate one at a time.

  James cleared his throat. “Sam suggested we see the ocean.”

  Mr. Koi nodded, although they both knew he wasn’t convinced. Out of all the parents in Wishville, most considered him the least easygoing. Like James and Nina, Mr. Koi was an expert at puzzles, but not the wooden kind in particular. He set down his spoon, humored eyes staring through his rectangular glasses. “You all must really like waves.”

  James stopped chewing, stuck in thought.

  Benji was always mesmerized by the Kois’ conversations. The family wasn’t known for talking much, but they always got their point across. It was almost a competition for who could talk the least.

  While James picked his words carefully, Benji’s brain went into a state of panic. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “We were—you know—” Benji gulped. “Counting the seagulls.”

  “Counting the seagulls,” Mr. Koi repeated. He chuckled and took another bite. “And how many did you count?”

  James’s answer was instantaneous.

  “One-hundred-and-seventeen.” He shot Benji a disappointed look.

  “How did you make sure you didn’t count one twice?”

  Mr. Koi was nothing more than a rock on a smooth path, waiting for James to trip as he ran. The pattern would continue until either James messed up, or Mr. Koi gave in and nodded at his persuasive son with pride. Benji switched focus between the two as questions were spouted and logically answered. He folded his fingers in anticipation of who would win the game.

  That’s when Nina pushed her plate of food in front of her and gulped a monstrous sip of water, forcing another bite. She stared at Benji deep in the eyes, and at that moment they were two pits of black fire. He found himself lost in them, and his hands began to shake.

  “Benji,” Mr. Koi said. “Is something wrong?”

  “Oh—uh, no.” He peeled his eyes from Nina and prepared another bite with his spoon. “I’m fine.”

  “What did you do today?” It was Nina asking the question this time.

  Benji hesitated, not sure why she’d ask. When he opened his mouth to spout the same lie they repeated throughout the meal, the words clotted in his throat. “I—well—”

  “What did you do today?” she repeated. Her tone of voice reminded Benji of a teacher during a verbal quiz, testing with the answer in mind.

  Benji’s hands went stiff. “Like I said, we were counting seagulls.” He tried to sound as natural as possible, but his voice was a tad higher than normal, and he could tell by the way her fingers tightened around her fork that she wasn’t convinced.

  “I’m not hungry.” She slammed her fork onto her plate and stood so fast that the chair legs squealed against the bamboo floor.

  “Are you okay?” Mr. Koi was by her side immediately. “Feeling dizzy?”

  Nina looked back at Benji. Something in her eyes was different this time, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’m feeling sick.”

  CHAPTER 2

  blueberry

  They called the place Blueberry.

  It was an ostracized building in the forest. Not so far from civilization that it was difficult to access, but far enough that most people curious to see it avoided the trouble. Hiding in plain sight, the rotting shed reserved itself for those capable of recognizing its value. And so it became a safe place for the four kids. Their second home. A jar of sparkling memories.

  Chloe collapsed onto the tattered rug in the center of the room. “I can’t believe it’s been six years since we found this place.” She flopped onto her back, and her hazelnut hair spread around her like a lion’s mane. “Life wouldn’t be worth living without Blueberry.”

  Benji shut the door behind him and leaned against it. What started as a childish game of hide-and-seek resulted in one of his favorite places in Wishville. He had found it tucked within a circle of thick redwood trees, moss crusted over the open door and layering the deck in a fuzzy green tarpaulin. It wasn’t until a few years later that they heard it was some dead lady’s storage shed for her moss gardening equipment, which explained the unnatural growth. They had already thought so dearly of Blueberry that they didn’t let such a fact intimidate them, so instead they convinced themselves it was hilarious.

  “Think we should rename it?” Benji observed the second door on the other side of the room, the wood all cracked and splintery. The molding was covered in literal mold, some dark specks that he would rather not consider the safety of, and the floor had gaps so big between the boards that it seemed the only place safe enough to avoid an amputation was the rug. “More like Rotting Blueberry.”

  Chloe shot up, pointing a firm finger at the ceiling. “He didn’t mean that!”

  Benji joined her on the floor with a chuckle. Chloe had brought the rug to Blueberry a few years ago from her attic, where her older sister hid a lot of her parents’ old things.

  “We can’t rename Blueberry. She doesn’t deserve that. Come on, you’re practically the founder.” After untangling both of her shoelaces, she tied them again in perfect bows. Chloe had always found strange ways to occupy her short attention span. “And it’s all because you wanted to play in the forest, of all places. I remember searching for you guys and out of nowhere, I hear you screaming my name from inside of some random shack.”

  “Yeah, and you were scared to death.” He ran his hands along the softened wool until his fingers met the frills along the edges. Although old, the carpet’s red and gold designs were vibrant, its geometrical shapes and twists mesmerizing.

  “Well you can’t blame me. It looks like the kind of place you go to get stabbed and ground into patties.”

  For a moment Benji forgot that the shed lacked windows. He observed the two wooden entrances, and when he finally remembered, went back to playing with the rug. “Sam said five, didn’t she?”

  “Oh, she’s coming. Might be late, though. Heard her family was meeting with the Zhaos tonight.” She raised her head from the floor with a mischievous grin. “Speaking of the Zhaos . . .”

  “No.”

  “
Why?”

  Benji’s face went hot. “I can’t.”

  “Ah, so you’re brave enough to leave town, but too scared to tell a girl how you feel?” Chloe reached to untie her shoelace again, but kicked her foot away to stop herself. “At least give Audrey a letter or something.”

  “You kidding me?” Benji rubbed his forehead, feeling dizzy. “That’s even worse! Not in a million years.”

  “Aw,” Chloe said, pinching her cheeks, “the Benji is blushing.”

  “Plus,” Benji said softly, “she likes James.”

  The room fell silent. Her eyes lingered on him for a while, but he didn’t dare look. The floorboards squealed below them, and the ceiling crackled like a fire.

  “Hey.” Her voice was softer this time. “I think we should talk about yesterday.”

  Benji didn’t look at her.

  “I know how you feel. It was hard enough that my mom died giving birth to me. Then my dad got sick. It felt like the end of the world.” A strand of hair fell from her bun, and she tucked it behind her ear. “My dad used to say that when something bad happens, you either keep living, you live dead, or you die. I chose to live, but if you disappeared too, what would I do then?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He smiled at the floor. “Maybe you wouldn’t have to run out of your softball practices anymore.”

  “Really?” She reached for that same strand of hair and twisted it between her fingers. “You’re more important than my stupid softball practices.”

  Sam stormed in. She was wearing a dress for the first time since Wishville Elementary’s third-grade picnic. The fabric was a faded red, and her hair nearly blended right into it. She huffed away their stares and leaned against the wall. “Don’t ask.”

  “We didn’t,” Benji said.

  She kicked off her dirty sneakers and explained anyway. “My dad had a meeting with the Zhao family about job opportunities or something. My brothers didn’t have to go, but guess who did?” Her eyes narrowed until Benji could no longer see them. “My mom wanted me to keep Audrey entertained.”

  Chloe took down her bun, bored of messing with one strand. “Complaining about Audrey again?”

  “My dad asked her if she could play a song for us on the violin. And guess what? She plays the exact song I’ve been working on.” Sam felt the callouses on her left fingers. “Something about her is just—it’s off.”

  Benji couldn’t stop himself from smiling. If there was nothing for Sam to complain about she’d always create something. Complaining was her favorite hobby. And for some reason, her favorite person to complain about was Audrey Zhao, the most perfect girl in school. No, in town. The most perfect girl in Wishville.

  “Well,” Chloe said, “your dress is nice.”

  Sam pushed herself off the wall and sat next to Chloe. “Stop.”

  “Oh, come on.” She leaned into her shoulder playfully. “The dinner couldn’t have been that bad.”

  Benji sighed. Sam probably liked Chloe more than anyone simply because she fed her flames of complaints. A lifetime as friends and Chloe still hadn’t learned to ignore them. James would say it was ignorant, but Benji assumed it was a girl thing. The love for complaints.

  “It was awful.” Sam licked her lips and cringed. “Audrey’s family literally only eats fish. You know how much I hate fish.”

  James still hadn’t shown. After a few glances at the door, Sam shrugged and slipped over to the crooked cabinets, scavenging for some snacks she had set aside. She found a bag of potato chips, unraveled it, and plopped it in the center of the carpet for them to share. Chloe snatched one. It was stale.

  “Gross.”

  “Would you rather have no potato chips?” Sam asked.

  “Yes.” Chloe nodded her head as she slipped the chip back into the bag. “Definitely. Yes.”

  “Don’t put it back in!” Sam yanked the bag from her and passed it to Benji.

  He laughed, his hair hopping on his head. “I think I’ll pass.”

  Chloe reached to put her hair back into a ponytail, tired of playing with it. They were all acting normal, ignoring the fact that James was still missing. But unlike them, Benji had a limit for how long he could contain his curiosity.

  “Does anyone know where James is?”

  He hadn’t been acting strange throughout the day. Only read books in class and started worksheets before their teachers finished instructions. The usual James. But this was the first time he had ever been late to a meeting at Blueberry.

  Sam stuffed a few chips down her throat. “He probably forgot.”

  “Suspicious.” Chloe squinted. “Very suspicious.”

  But James never forgets. He hadn’t forgotten anything since the day he left his essay on his desk at home, distracted by a new book. It was a rainy day. He had walked out in the middle of class, fetched his essay, and came back dripping wet with the ruined papers in hand. Not one emotion crossed his face, but Benji could tell the boy had never undergone such shame.

  “We still need to figure out how to punish you for trying to leave us.” Chloe hummed to herself. “How about five dollars apiece?”

  Sam elbowed her in the side. “That’s way too little!”

  “Whoa there.” Benji raised a hand. “How about nothing?”

  “Twenty bucks or I tell your mom.” Sam crossed her arms and raised her chin, staring him down.

  Benji’s soul slipped. The image of adults discovering his attempted escape left him petrified. One word about him trying to leave and the whole town would be in a frenzy, but he pushed the fear aside. Sam might not have been the quietest person at school, but they’d been close friends for as long as he could remember.

  “Don’t you find it fishy that no one ever comes here?”

  They stared, waiting for more.

  “That book we’re reading in class. The Mysticals. Each chapter someone new moves into town, and the kids meet them and learn about where they’re from.” He frowned. “I asked Mr. Trenton why we never have strangers move to Wishville. And he responded by saying, ‘Benji, The Mysticals is fiction.’”

  “I remember that,” Chloe said.

  “But it wasn’t just The Mysticals.” He shook his head. “It’s happened in so many books we’ve been forced to read. There’d be a new neighbor next door. Or someone would move to the other side of the world. People came and went from all over the place and it . . . I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Don’t be an idiot.” Sam laughed into her hand, shaking her head. “There’s lots of books with supernatural stuff in them, too. Doesn’t mean that’s real.”

  * * *

  Their meeting at Blueberry lasted longer than expected, and he had spent the majority of his walk home under a blanket of stars. Expecting a lecture, he took his time opening the door.

  But there was no lecture. Only a girl.

  Nina stood in the dining room, her creamy eyes bloodshot and dry. Mr. Koi wrapped an arm around her. She observed her shoes and pulled tenderly at her braids.

  James was the only one seated. He sat at the opposite head of the table, as far away from everyone as possible. His world of isolation broke for a moment as Benji caught his attention. He waved without a smile, pulled the pages closer to his face, and disappeared. Rebecca, on the other hand, was fully engaged. Her forehead was smeared in wrinkles, her lips pursed. She wanted to speak, but something was holding her back.

  “Go on.” Mr Koi’s grip tightened on Nina’s shoulder. “Tell him.” His voice was sharp, cloaked in a layer of butter, neither sweet nor bitter.

  The realization hit Benji in a storm. The way Nina had questioned him last night was suspicious. He wasn’t sure how, but she knew. She knew all about his plan to leave town, and she told the adults everything. All of it. His secret was loose. It was over.

  But when Nina spoke, Benji’s
arms relaxed.

  “I’m sorry.” She clung to the fabric of her black dress as she raised her chin. Inside her eyes was an ocean of raging darkness.

  Nina’s nervousness made him uneasy. She had always been like the rest of the Kois, dictator of her emotions, reserving energy for chosen recreation rather than pointless worries. Yet there was something about her facial expression today—something about the way her lips drooped and her skin lightened a shade—that made Benji think she was about to cry.

  Mr. Koi must have sensed it too. He pulled her closer to his side, and she grabbed her wrist tightly, the color in her fingers fading.

  The dining room, usually filled with a thick layer of gray air, now had a menacing red film. As much as Benji wanted to believe it was real, he knew it was all in his mind. The curiosity seeped through his sight. Red. A color of interesting change.

  There was an odd hue to her eyes now. A dash of rose in a freshly burned forest.

  “Sorry about what?”

  She hadn’t done anything to hurt him. Their past interactions were nothing more than a quick nod of the head when passing each other in the Koi house, and maybe the occasional exchange of words at dinner. Nina had always been a recluse, confined to her room to sleep or read aloud to the wall. Even Sam and Chloe hardly spoke to her. Nina was never shy around them. She was simply disinterested, and as a result, they returned the disinterest, acknowledging her not as Nina, a clever eleven-year-old genius, but as James’s little sister. The sick one.

  Nina’s fingers loosened on her wrist until she let go, her hands dangling by her sides. “I don’t feel well.”

  Mr. Koi pushed Nina away, resting a gentle palm on her forehead. He raised his chin in Rebecca’s direction. “Fever.”

  “What can I do?” Rebecca asked.

  “Don’t worry yourself.” Mr. Koi was already guiding Nina to the door. He turned to James, his voice hardening. “Put the book away.”