AUGUST 23, 1997
“LIZ, COME HERE, QUICK,” HUGH CALLED OUT FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF HIS STREET. “The sun is so strong, it’s melting the tarmac on the road.”
“It is?” Springing up from my perch on the footpath outside, I dropped the chalk I’d been playing with and hurried over to him.
“See?” Hugh poked the black tarmac with the stick he was holding. “It’s squishy.”
“That is so cool.” Intrigued, I knelt down and poked the tarmac with my finger, thrilled when it moved. “I know the sun is hot today, but I didn’t realize it could melt the road.”
“Tarmac is a lot like chocolate,” Hugh explained, crouching down beside me to investigate. “When it’s hot, it softens, and when it’s cold, it hardens.”
“How come?”
He shrugged. “It has a lot to do with its physical components and the effect on the tar when it absorbs the sun’s heat energy.”
Fascinated, I listened carefully to every word as he explained another one of earth’s mysteries to me. Hugh was good like that. He always knew the answers to all our questions. Not only did he know the answers, he explained them in a way that wasn’t boring. Even Gibsie, who hated school, enjoyed listening to Hugh break stuff down.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a familiar, dark figure lurking in the distance, and my stomach sank.
The scary lady.
She was back.
I hadn’t seen her during the daytime in a very long time. The medicine I took helped me with keeping her out of my head. But she was here now. She had followed me all the way to Hugh’s house.
Blinking rapidly, I looked away before casting another glance in her direction, and this time she was gone.
Sadness bloomed inside of me because I didn’t want to start seeing the scary lady again. Not like the way I used to see her before the tablets. If that happened, my father would send me away again, and I didn’t want to get sick again.
“We should write our names,” Hugh declared, dragging me from my thoughts.
“Huh?”
“Our names,” he explained, smiling warmly. “We should write them in the tarmac.”
“Oh.” Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I offered him a bright smile and focused all my attention on him. “Okay.”
Using the pointy end of the stick he’d found, Hugh scraped the letter H into the tarmac. “Here.” He passed me the stick and pointed to the + symbol next to his letter H. “Make sure you dig your L deep. Otherwise, it’ll fade.”
Grabbing the stick, I set to work on carving the letter L into the tarmac next to his, while pushing my worries to the back of my mind.
“There.” Sitting back on the curb, I admired our handywork. “H plus L.” I grinned at him. “Together forever.”
“Yep,” he agreed, draping his arm over my shoulders. “And in twenty years’ time, when we come back here to visit, we can show this to our kids.”
“So you are going to marry me,” I teased, elbowing his side.
“I thought I already told you I would,” he replied, sounding confused.
“No, you asked me would I say yes,” I corrected, shifting closer. “But you never actually said you would ask me.”
“Oh.” His cheeks turned pink. “Well, consider this conversation my confirmation on that matter.”
I choked out a laugh. “You talk so funny sometimes.”
“In what way?”
“Like a grown-up,” I snickered, thoroughly enjoying him. “Or a nerd.”
He shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “Maybe, but I bet I can kick a drop goal from the ten-meter line better than any nerd you know.”
“I don’t know about rugby kicks, but you’re prettier than any other nerd,” I replied. “Any other rugby player, too.” My words caused Hugh to full-on blush this time and I cackled. “You look even prettier when you blush.”
“You’re not supposed to call me pretty, Liz,” he muttered, looking embarrassed. “I’m supposed to call you pretty.”
“Then call me pretty.”
He rolled his eyes. “You know you’re pretty.”
“Come on, I want to hear you say it.” Turning my body sideways, I reached up and grabbed his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t be shy.”
“You’re pretty,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “The prettiest girl in Ballylaggin.”
“Thank you.” I beamed back at him. “And what else?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wasn’t there something you were going to ask me?”
He rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, Liz, when we’re nineteen, not nine.”
“Nineteen is too far away.” I laughed, feeling mischievous. “Ask me now.”
“This is so embarrassing,” Hugh groaned, and then, because he knew I wouldn’t let it go, he cleared his throat before asking, “Elizabeth Eleanor Young, would you do me the great honor of becoming Elizabeth Eleanor Biggs?”
“Why yes, Hugh Andrew Biggs,” I gushed through fits of laughter. “I would be delighted to.”
“Milady is too kind,” he replied in his playful, brave-knight accent, before climbing to his feet and bowing dramatically. “From this day forth, dear Wife, this sword shall be sworn to you.” He placed his stick at my feet and bowed again. “I shall slay all your enemies, shield you from dragons, and protect you with my life.”
“And I shall protect you with mine, dear Husband.” Snatching the stick, I jumped to my feet and swished it around. “Have no fear, brave knight, for I shall be your secret weapon in every battle.”
Hugh opened his mouth to respond but quickly clamped it shut when his attention shifted to something behind me.
“Are you okay?” I asked, watching his expression carefully.
He didn’t look okay. In fact, his eyes were narrowed, and his face was set in a deep frown.
“Hugh?”
“Liz.” He kept his eyes trained on something over my shoulder and pointed. “Do you see that?”
Curious, I swung around to look, only to freeze on the spot when my eyes took in the familiar figure.
“Oh my God.” I turned back to gape at Hugh. “You see her, too?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I see her, Liz.”
My heart slammed so hard in my chest I thought it might burst.
Hugh could see her.
He could see the crazy lady.
It wasn’t all in my head.
“Come here, Liz,” he instructed in a stern voice, holding out his hand to me. “Right now.”
I didn’t argue, moving straight to his side without hesitation. “That’s her, Hugh.” I took his outstretched hand in both of mine and burrowed into his side. “That’s the scary lady.”
“I see her,” he replied, attention trained to the stranger watching us through the tree line at the end of the cul-de-sac. Snatching the stick out of my hand, he pulled me close and wielded it in front of us. “Don’t worry. I’m here.”
“I think she’s a monster,” I admitted with a shiver. “She has sharp claws and everything.”
“She’s not a monster,” he replied, slowly walking me backwards toward his driveway. “She’s a weirdo.”
“But you can really see her, right?” I continued to probe, needing his validation, as he backed us up his porch steps. “I’m not dreaming, am I?” Feeling panicked, I clung to his hand. “This is real, isn’t it? We’re really here?”
“Yeah, Liz,” he confirmed, sounding so steady and sure of himself that I felt better. “I’m right here with you, I promise.”
When we reached the front door, Hugh pushed me inside before following in after me and slamming the door shut. “Caoimhe!” he roared, still holding the stick. “Come here fast!”
My sister was babysitting for Sinead today, and when she poked her head around the living room door, she looked annoyed. “What?”
“The scary lady’s back!” I choked out. “She found me.”
My sister rolled her eyes. “Liz, we’ve talked about this a million times. There is no scary lady.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Hugh got there first. “I don’t know about scary ladies, but there’s a creepy woman at the end of the street,” he said, once again tucking me into his side. “I saw her myself, Caoimhe. She’s been watching us.”
Caoimhe stared at Hugh for a long beat before laughing. “Yeah, okay, guys, pull the other leg.”
“Do you see me laughing?” Hugh snapped, pointing to the door. “She’s right down the street, Caoimhe. At the end of the cul-de-sac. In the woods.”
“You’re serious?”
Hugh nodded. “Deadly.”
“Oh my God.” My sister’s smile fell. “Where’s Claire?”
“Upstairs with Gibs.”
“Okay. Okay.” Nodding to herself, she moved for the door, looking like she might puke. “Both of you stay in the house,” she instructed before swinging the door open. “Do not follow me.”
The moment she charged out the driveway and bolted toward the end of the street, we, of course, rushed outside to see.
“Where did you see her?” Caoimhe demanded when she returned a few minutes later.
Standing at the end of the driveway, we pointed toward the tree line at the end of the cul-de-sac. “Right over there.”
“There’s no one over there,” she snapped, sounding frustrated. “If you two are playing some pathetic prank on me, I’m going to be seriously—”
“She was right over there, Caoimhe,” Hugh interrupted, sounding equally frustrated. “This is not a prank.”
“Yeah, well, it sure looks like one because there is nobody in the wood, Hugh.”
“Then she must’ve disappeared again,” I offered, trembling. “The scary lady is good at doing that. She can just go poof and disappear into—”
“Oh my God, give it a rest with the scary-lady bullshit,” Caoimhe roared, glaring at me. “It’s bad enough you’ve warped your own mind with crazy bullshit, but you’re warping his now, too.”
“Hey!” Hugh snapped, stepping in front of me. “Your sister didn’t warp my mind, Caoimhe. I saw the woman with my own eyes.”
“Sure you did, right along with Saint Patrick himself and the Easter Bunny,” she shot back sarcastically, stomping back to the house. “Pull a stunt like that again, Hugh Biggs, and I’m telling your parents.”
“She doesn’t believe me, Hugh,” I said when my sister slammed the front door behind her.
“It doesn’t matter what she believes,” he growled, tucking my hand in his as he glowered at his closed front door. “You’re telling the truth.”
“I am?”
“Yeah, Liz.” When his eyes flicked to mine, I could see the sympathy pouring out of them. “You are.”
“Okay.” I blew out a shaky breath, and Hugh gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Okay.”
