Mikayla woke up with a wink, unaware I’d been watching her. There was a moment of peace, just a breath of it, before she suddenly jumped up and snatched KeeKee from the tree.

Something was wrong. I didn’t see it at first. Not until she turned KeeKee’s face toward me.

The sun had been shining on her cheek too long. I thought I smelled a whiff of smoke earlier, but I brushed it off as just another strange thing in this world of unknown pirates and creatures with lights, knights of absurd rights, curious things that whisper through the night.

But it wasn’t my imagination. KeeKee’s cheek was burned. My heart dropped. I took her gently from Mikayla and held her close. I didn’t know what to do.

Mikayla leaned in, studying KeeKee’s cheek like she was a doctor in an emergency room. “I can fix it,” she said.

“How?” I asked.

She shrugged, “Spit.”

I stared at her, “Spit?”

“Yeah,” she said, like it was obvious. “Spit fixes everything.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Since when?”

“Since forever,” she said, already getting ready to do it. “You put a little spit on it and rub it in. Everybody knows that.”

I pulled KeeKee closer, “That’s gross.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is!”

Mikayla rolled her eyes, “Do you want her to look better or not?”

I hesitated. “Well…yeah.”

“Then spit,” she said, as if she’d just solved world peace.

I sighed, leaned forward, and whispered, “Sorry, KeeKee…” then dabbed a tiny bit of spit on my fingertip.

Mikayla nodded, approving, “Now rub it in.”

I rubbed the burned spot gently, “This feels wrong.”

“That means it’s working,” she said.

“Who taught you that?”

“Didn’t your dad do this to you?” she asked quietly. “Didn’t he teach you this?”

The world stopped. My breath caught the way it does when something old wakes up inside you. Like a door cracking open. Like a memory pressing through the dark. I didn’t answer her. I couldn’t. My throat closed up, and my hands started shaking around KeeKee’s little burned cheek.

Mikayla didn’t push. She just nodded a little, “It took you this long?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You think you’re remembering,” Mikayla said, her eyes soft and certain. “But really, you’re just remembering to remember.”

What does that even mean? But honestly, in a peculiar way, it made sense as I sat there holding KeeKee tight.

Mikayla watched me for a moment, then flopped back into the grass and stared up at the sky. Her voice got quieter, like it had a secret in it, “Who do you think all this is for?”

“All what?” I asked back.

She rolled onto her side to look at me, “You really do ask a lot of questions.”

“I guess I’m a questioner,” I said.

“Questions are good,” she agreed. “I like questions. But you know what comes after a question?”

“Is this a trick question?” I asked.

She laughed as she rolled on her back and looked toward the sky, “Maybe.”

The clouds were bright against the blue sky, and I couldn’t help wondering, “Is that a dolphin?”

“That is definitely a dolphin,” she claimed. “And that over there is a turtle with wings.”

“A turtle with wings,” I looked as I thought. “If it has wings, why does it move so slow?”

“Now, that is a good question,” Mikayla said as she scooted closer, her dress brushing the blanket. She smoothed it with her hand, the patchwork squares that Maggie had sewn together when I was sick. I watched her fingers move over it, gentle and sure.

As I watched her hand, I started to remember the night I had a fever. I remembered the time I hid under it playing hide and seek. I wrapped it around myself and walked around the house when I was cold.

“This is that blanket?” I said louder than I wanted.

“There she is,” Mikayla said as she looked at me and smiled.

I looked at KeeKee and held her closer, “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”

I’m not sure, but I think she winked at me. I looked at her cheek and suddenly felt motherly. I licked my thumb and rubbed it again. Now, I’m sure that time, she smiled.

Mikayla grabbed the book and started flipping through the pages, “Okay. So now that that’s settled, can we get on with it?”

“Oh,” I looked at the book and suddenly remembered, “We have a park to get to.”

“Yes, we do,” Mikayla looked at me with those deep blue eyes.

 In that moment, something else came to me, too. All of a sudden, I remembered who.

“Who?” Mikayla asked.

I looked at her and locked eyes, “Captain Teye Ba, that’s who?”

She got on her knees and stared at me, “You are so close!”

“We’re missing something,” I declared.

“What are we missing?” she asked as she looked around. “We have everything.”

“Oooh,” I couldn’t put my finger on it. But it was at the end of my tongue.

“Come on,” Mikayla urged. “Spit it out.”

“We’re missing the key.” Saying that, it suddenly came to me, “My piano.”

“Yes,” Mikayla said as she jumped up off the blanket. “Let’s go!”

“Let’s go where?” I asked. “Let’s map it out.”

“There river’s over there. The park’s that way,” Mikayla directed with her arms as she stood in front of me. “This is here, and that’s over there. I’m pretty sure we know which way we need to go!”

“Oh, right,” I said as I stood up with KeeKee and grabbed the blanket. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t forget the book,” Mikayla said in a final order as she darted down the path.

Why was I forever running after this girl?

It was odd when I saw the house. Looking at it from the backside, it had a different feel to me. One that drew me closer but brought back so many memories.

“What about Teye Ba?” Mikayla asked in a quiet tone.

“That’s right,” I said as the focus came back to me. “He taught me how to hide it.”

“That I did, young lass,” Teye Ba said.

I looked up, and there he was, leaning against a tree like he had been waiting all day for me. Johnson stepped out from behind him. Bruce waved in the background as if we had just walked into a reunion.

“Hi guys,” I said quickly. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“Yeah, she is,” Mikayla confirmed.

I looked around the yard, taking it in piece by piece. The place where the treehouse used to be held scraps of wood that still clung to the branches. A beehive hung where the ladder used to reach. Then I saw it. The faint path in the grass where small feet used to run.

“There you be,” Bruce said with a slow nod as I walked by him.

It was like my feet remembered before I did. They carried me toward the far corner of the yard as if they had been waiting for this walk. The tall weeds and brush were still there. They had grown older, but they hadn’t forgotten.

And there it stood. My leaning post. The oldest tree in the neighborhood. Its bark, rough and knotted. Its roots curling into the earth like it was holding on for both of us. I turned and looked at the rock that still stuck out of the dirt beside it, and the knot in the wood looked like it was smiling. Almost like Peppa Pig giving me a wink.

“This is it,” I announced.

I dug with sticks and rocks to clear away the dirt. The further down I went, the more determined I became. It couldn’t have been buried that deep. With each new pound of dirt I pulled out of the hole, I felt myself getting more excited.

Then, I suddenly hit something that made a hollow sound. This was it. This is what I had been looking for this whole time. What I pulled out of the hole was an old cigar box. With a smile on my face, I pulled it to my chest. Then, I turned around to show everyone.

That’s when that old feeling came rushing back to me. I sat down under the tree and looked around. There wasn’t anyone there. It was like they had all vanished without even a whisper. I looked at my dirty hands and tapped my finger on the lid of the box.

Then, I took in a deep breath as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the tree. I let my mind wash itself free. It felt good to be home, with people I had known. Why I ever left them, I’ll never know.

“You’re not alone,” a young voice sounded from the darkness.

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