slammed into it again, unable to take another step.
Ander traced the invisible force with his fingers. “It’s wet. It feels like a cordon. It’s real, I can feel it, but it isn’t there.”
“Guys.” Claire waved from a few feet away. “Shouldn’t we just use the door?”
Eureka squinted as something white blurred in the space in front of her sister. Claire rose on her toes to reach above her head, revisiting what seemed to be a tricky spot several times. At the edge of the grove, under the crooked elbow of a hazelnut branch, just past a flat stone bearing a patch of lichen shaped like Louisiana, a wall of porous white rock sharpened slowly, incredibly, before them.
Claire had finger-painted it into existence—or into visibility, for the rock had been there before its painter.
“Here it is.” Claire’s hands moved over a black portion of the rock like she was polishing a car. The rock looked more and more like a rounded doorway.
Eureka wished Rhoda were here to applaud. It made Eureka think about Heaven, which made her think about Diana, and she wondered if two souls interested in the same earthlysubjects could gather in the same celestial place to look down on them. Were Rhoda and Diana together, somewhere out there, on a cloud? Did Heaven still lie beyond the gray smear of sadness above?
She looked upward for a sign. Rain fell in the same lonesome rhythm it had been beating out all day.
Ander knelt next to Claire. “How did you do that?”
“Kids see more than adults,” Claire said matter-of-factly, and slipped through the door like a ghost.
7
FOR A SONG
E ureka turned to Ander. “Do you think this is really—”
“The Bitter Cloud.” Ander’s smile was the opposite of William’s open grin. It was a smile at the border of weeping, a passport flashed and pocketed. It fascinated Eureka, and it frightened her to consider what it would mean to be Ander’s girlfriend, to combine her enormous pain with his, to become a power couple of loss. They would understand each other’s sorrow naturally—but who would lighten the mood?
“You’re as sad as I am,” she whispered. “Why?”
“I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”
It made Eureka wish she’d known Ander forever, that she had as many memories of him as he had gathered of her over the years.
She touched the bright white rock. The Bitter Cloud. If this was Solon’s cave, Eureka could see why he compared the travertine stone to a cloud. Even after Claire had revealed how solid it was, there was a lightness to the stone, like you could almost pass your fingers through it.
Eureka held out her torch and entered the cave. Her bad ear listened to the soft vibration of moth wings carrying her father behind her.
William saw his shadow stretching on the cave walls and drew closer to Eureka. “I’m afraid.”
Eureka had to set the example that love was bigger than fear. “I’m with you.”
The cave walls had a strange, mottled texture. Eureka held the torch near one. Her fingers tightened around the torch’s silver wand.
There must have been a thousand skulls arranged along the walls. Had they been former residents? Trespassers like her? An earlier Eureka might have shuddered at the sight. The girl she was now leaned closer to the wall, peered into a skinless, grinning face. She sensed that the skull had belonged to a woman. Its eye sockets were large and low and perfectly rounded. Its teeth were intact along its delicate jaw. It was beautiful. Eureka thought about how intensely she used to want to die, how she’d aspired to be like this woman. She wondered where this lovely skull’s soul had gone, and what pain it had left on earth.
She reached out. The skull’s cheekbones were icy.
Eureka drew away, and the skull blended into the larger design. It was like stepping away from a telescope on a starry night. The skulls were separated here and there by other types of bones: femurs, ribs, kneecaps. Eureka knew from her
Ander traced the invisible force with his fingers. “It’s wet. It feels like a cordon. It’s real, I can feel it, but it isn’t there.”
“Guys.” Claire waved from a few feet away. “Shouldn’t we just use the door?”
Eureka squinted as something white blurred in the space in front of her sister. Claire rose on her toes to reach above her head, revisiting what seemed to be a tricky spot several times. At the edge of the grove, under the crooked elbow of a hazelnut branch, just past a flat stone bearing a patch of lichen shaped like Louisiana, a wall of porous white rock sharpened slowly, incredibly, before them.
Claire had finger-painted it into existence—or into visibility, for the rock had been there before its painter.
“Here it is.” Claire’s hands moved over a black portion of the rock like she was polishing a car. The rock looked more and more like a rounded doorway.
Eureka wished Rhoda were here to applaud. It made Eureka think about Heaven, which made her think about Diana, and she wondered if two souls interested in the same earthlysubjects could gather in the same celestial place to look down on them. Were Rhoda and Diana together, somewhere out there, on a cloud? Did Heaven still lie beyond the gray smear of sadness above?
She looked upward for a sign. Rain fell in the same lonesome rhythm it had been beating out all day.
Ander knelt next to Claire. “How did you do that?”
“Kids see more than adults,” Claire said matter-of-factly, and slipped through the door like a ghost.
7
FOR A SONG
E ureka turned to Ander. “Do you think this is really—”
“The Bitter Cloud.” Ander’s smile was the opposite of William’s open grin. It was a smile at the border of weeping, a passport flashed and pocketed. It fascinated Eureka, and it frightened her to consider what it would mean to be Ander’s girlfriend, to combine her enormous pain with his, to become a power couple of loss. They would understand each other’s sorrow naturally—but who would lighten the mood?
“You’re as sad as I am,” she whispered. “Why?”
“I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”
It made Eureka wish she’d known Ander forever, that she had as many memories of him as he had gathered of her over the years.
She touched the bright white rock. The Bitter Cloud. If this was Solon’s cave, Eureka could see why he compared the travertine stone to a cloud. Even after Claire had revealed how solid it was, there was a lightness to the stone, like you could almost pass your fingers through it.
Eureka held out her torch and entered the cave. Her bad ear listened to the soft vibration of moth wings carrying her father behind her.
William saw his shadow stretching on the cave walls and drew closer to Eureka. “I’m afraid.”
Eureka had to set the example that love was bigger than fear. “I’m with you.”
The cave walls had a strange, mottled texture. Eureka held the torch near one. Her fingers tightened around the torch’s silver wand.
There must have been a thousand skulls arranged along the walls. Had they been former residents? Trespassers like her? An earlier Eureka might have shuddered at the sight. The girl she was now leaned closer to the wall, peered into a skinless, grinning face. She sensed that the skull had belonged to a woman. Its eye sockets were large and low and perfectly rounded. Its teeth were intact along its delicate jaw. It was beautiful. Eureka thought about how intensely she used to want to die, how she’d aspired to be like this woman. She wondered where this lovely skull’s soul had gone, and what pain it had left on earth.
She reached out. The skull’s cheekbones were icy.
Eureka drew away, and the skull blended into the larger design. It was like stepping away from a telescope on a starry night. The skulls were separated here and there by other types of bones: femurs, ribs, kneecaps. Eureka knew from her
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