The Wishing Game(40)
“Useless,” Dustin said, collapsing back onto the sofa.
Melanie buried her face in her hands. “What are you talking about?” When she lifted her head, she didn’t look quite so perfectly put together as before.
“Shall I give you all another hint?” Jack asked.
They all loudly said, “Yes!”
Jack pointed his finger and scanned the room with it. It landed on Andre. “Andre—what was the last movie you watched?”
“Ah…” He thought about it a second. “Probably Star Wars, with my son.”
“Excellent.” Jack rubbed his hands together. “I’ve actually heard of that one. Let’s see…” He snapped his fingers. “Here we go. You can pass Harrison Ford through the door. And also Mark Hamill. You may send in Carrie Fisher, may she rest in peace. And also Princess Leia. But Han Solo isn’t allowed, and neither is Luke Skywalker. Billy Dee Williams can pass through the green glass door three times. But certainly, never Darth Vader. He shall not pass.”
“Heroes can go through? Not villains?”
“Picasso was not a hero,” Hugo said. “Ask any of his mistresses.”
“True,” Jack said. “But his mistresses are also welcome through the door. As are villains.”
Melanie placed her fingertips on her temples and rubbed them as if a massive headache were brewing. “I’m going to scream,” she mumbled.
“It has to be one thing,” Dustin said, looking up at Jack. “One thing they all have in common, yes?”
“Yes,” Jack said. “It’s one thing they all have in common.”
Jack said nothing as if waiting for them to absorb this hint.
Lucy took a breath. Okay, okay…something they all have in common. One thing all those objects and people and concepts had in common…Carrie Fisher. Princess Leia. A book. A Picasso. Flattery? What on earth was he talking about?
She closed her eyes, thought long and deep. Jack wrote kids’ books. This was probably a riddle a kid could solve.
Something rang a bell…the tiniest of bells when Jack said Carrie Fisher. Oh, she remembered. She’d been teaching Christopher how to spell Carrie. He had a girl named Kari in his class, so it was eye-opening for him to learn that some words could sound exactly alike but have different spellings. Kari. Carrie.
Words. Some words are spelled one way…
Lucy felt a little spark fire in her brain.
What they all had in common was that they were all words. Of course painting, artwork, page, and Hugo were all words too. So it couldn’t be that. Still, something about the words themselves, not the meaning…
Mr. Reese.
Picasso.
Book.
Harrison Ford.
Princess Leia.
Carrie Fisher.
Billy Dee Williams. Three times.
Three names. Three times. Three names. Three words.
Green.
Glass.
Door.
Thirteen.
She pictured Christopher painstakingly spelling out the name Carrie in their thank-you note. She could see his tongue out, and his brow furrowed in adorable concentration as he slowly carved the two Rs into the paper.
C-A-R-R-I-E.
Carrie Fisher.
Princess Leia.
Harrison Ford.
Picasso.
Book.
Green.
Glass.
Door.
Thirteen. Harrison. Carrie. Billy Dee.
Carrie written on their company letterhead. Carrie, not Kari. Carrie, not Kari. Carrie…Carrie with two Rs.
Lucy’s heart leaped in her chest. Her eyes flew open. She raised her head.
“Sheep can go through the door,” Lucy said. “But not their lambs. And a tree can go through the door, but not its limbs.”
Jack slowly opened his arms wide, a smile spread across his face. Then he pointed at her.
“She’s got it.”
* * *
—
She’s got it. Those were the three best words Lucy had heard in her life.
She beamed in triumph. Jack applauded, but no one else did.
“What?” Andre stood up as if he couldn’t sit still anymore. “What the—What the hell do Picasso and some sheep have to do with Star Wars?”
“What is it, Lucy?” Dustin asked. “It’s killing me.”
“No, no, no.” Jack wagged his finger again. Dustin looked at Jack as if he were about to bite that finger off. “Lucy, you may be excused. And don’t give any hints on the way out. The others can play for one point for second place. Hugo, would you take Lucy to her room, get her some dinner if she wants something more substantial than a s’more.”
“I’d be thrilled beyond all comprehension to get out of here,” Hugo said as he stood up.
“A thrill can pass through the glass door,” Jack said. “But not excitement.”
As Lucy followed Hugo from the library, she heard someone moaning in abject frustration.
“Let’s go,” Hugo said as soon as they left the library. “Before things get violent.”
It sounded like he wasn’t joking.
She followed him quickly to the entryway, and then he led her up the main staircase. Once they hit the landing, Hugo looked back at her over his shoulder.
“How did you figure it out?” he asked.