safari gear with thick jungle all around them, grinning at the camera while skydiving, standing on the tops of snowcapped mountains, and kayaking through white-water rapids.
It did not escape Fernie that these were all things her own adventurer of a mother did on a regular basis, and that she would someday like to do herself. She couldn’t help thinking, just from the photos, that her mother would have liked the couple quite a bit…and discovered, thinking about it, that knowing them only from the photos, she liked them quite a bit as well.
The woman smiled in all of the photos except for one, where she was bent over some tropical fern looking at the single biggest spider Fernie had ever seen. Not counting the legs, it was almost as big as Fernie’s closed fist. Fernie wouldn’t have smiled at that spider, either, but she also wouldn’t have leaned in close to it long enough to have her picture taken. The woman inthe picture seemed to be frowning out of intense interest rather than the disgust any reasonable person would have shown upon finding a spider as big as a kitten. But that was not even the interesting part to Fernie; the interesting part was that, when there was no smile lighting up her face, she happened to look almost exactly like Gustav.
“Her name was Penelope,” Gustav said.
Fernie jumped. She hadn’t heard Gustav walking up behind her.
“She called herself Penny for short,” he continued. “His name was Hans. He couldn’t come up with a nickname shorter than that.”
Gustav was always so serious about everything that the neighbors who spotted him in his estate’s yard believed him to be the saddest little boy in the world. Fernie had learned that he wasn’t as sad as he looked; he just didn’t smile much. But sometimes he was sad, and he looked very sad indeed right now, the kind of sad that came from losing something very important, or from never having had it at all.
He carried a framed photo. “She would have been my mom.”
She remembered the bio on the back ofLemuel Gloom’s book. “And Hans would have been your dad?”
“Hans was my dad,” Gustav said. “Penny was never my mom. Somebody else had to be. But she
would have been
.”
“I’m sorry, Gustav. I don’t understand. Even if you’re saying she died, she was either your mom or she wasn’t.”
“She did die,” Gustav said. “But she never got to be my mom.”
“But what does that mean?”
“It means she never had a chance.”
He was so bereft, and so angry, that Fernie found herself a little afraid of him. “What happened?”
He handed her the picture in his hands. “
He
happened.”
The three people in the photo stood in front of the Gloom house, looking like any other best friends happy to have their picture taken together. Two of them were the man and woman adventurers in all the other pictures. The woman looked heavier than she did in any of the other photos; she wore a T-shirt bearing the word
BABY
with an arrow pointing at her tummy. Her smile was golden. The man’s was alittle more crooked, but he still looked as happy as any man could be.
The other man with them was an older, paler figure with bright blue eyes, a high forehead, and a smile that suggested that he wasn’t very good at smiling but was just doing it because it was expected of him.
He was not nearly as lumpy as the ice-cream man she knew, and his head was high and thin instead of round and misshapen, but Fernie recognized him, anyway.
It was October.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE WORDS OCTOBER HEARD
“Is this the man you saw?” Gustav demanded.
Fernie, who was still a little frightened by the pain in the eyes of this strange boy she’d come to care about, needed a few seconds to find her voice. “It could be. The man in the picture has a normal head, and he doesn’t look like he could open his mouth as much as October can…but yes, I think this is a picture of the person October used to be.”
Gustav walked away, his shoulders
It did not escape Fernie that these were all things her own adventurer of a mother did on a regular basis, and that she would someday like to do herself. She couldn’t help thinking, just from the photos, that her mother would have liked the couple quite a bit…and discovered, thinking about it, that knowing them only from the photos, she liked them quite a bit as well.
The woman smiled in all of the photos except for one, where she was bent over some tropical fern looking at the single biggest spider Fernie had ever seen. Not counting the legs, it was almost as big as Fernie’s closed fist. Fernie wouldn’t have smiled at that spider, either, but she also wouldn’t have leaned in close to it long enough to have her picture taken. The woman inthe picture seemed to be frowning out of intense interest rather than the disgust any reasonable person would have shown upon finding a spider as big as a kitten. But that was not even the interesting part to Fernie; the interesting part was that, when there was no smile lighting up her face, she happened to look almost exactly like Gustav.
“Her name was Penelope,” Gustav said.
Fernie jumped. She hadn’t heard Gustav walking up behind her.
“She called herself Penny for short,” he continued. “His name was Hans. He couldn’t come up with a nickname shorter than that.”
Gustav was always so serious about everything that the neighbors who spotted him in his estate’s yard believed him to be the saddest little boy in the world. Fernie had learned that he wasn’t as sad as he looked; he just didn’t smile much. But sometimes he was sad, and he looked very sad indeed right now, the kind of sad that came from losing something very important, or from never having had it at all.
He carried a framed photo. “She would have been my mom.”
She remembered the bio on the back ofLemuel Gloom’s book. “And Hans would have been your dad?”
“Hans was my dad,” Gustav said. “Penny was never my mom. Somebody else had to be. But she
would have been
.”
“I’m sorry, Gustav. I don’t understand. Even if you’re saying she died, she was either your mom or she wasn’t.”
“She did die,” Gustav said. “But she never got to be my mom.”
“But what does that mean?”
“It means she never had a chance.”
He was so bereft, and so angry, that Fernie found herself a little afraid of him. “What happened?”
He handed her the picture in his hands. “
He
happened.”
The three people in the photo stood in front of the Gloom house, looking like any other best friends happy to have their picture taken together. Two of them were the man and woman adventurers in all the other pictures. The woman looked heavier than she did in any of the other photos; she wore a T-shirt bearing the word
BABY
with an arrow pointing at her tummy. Her smile was golden. The man’s was alittle more crooked, but he still looked as happy as any man could be.
The other man with them was an older, paler figure with bright blue eyes, a high forehead, and a smile that suggested that he wasn’t very good at smiling but was just doing it because it was expected of him.
He was not nearly as lumpy as the ice-cream man she knew, and his head was high and thin instead of round and misshapen, but Fernie recognized him, anyway.
It was October.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE WORDS OCTOBER HEARD
“Is this the man you saw?” Gustav demanded.
Fernie, who was still a little frightened by the pain in the eyes of this strange boy she’d come to care about, needed a few seconds to find her voice. “It could be. The man in the picture has a normal head, and he doesn’t look like he could open his mouth as much as October can…but yes, I think this is a picture of the person October used to be.”
Gustav walked away, his shoulders
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