How does one plan a trip to the Amazon when one, you’ve never actually traveled anywhere, and two, it’s the middle of the night?
Especially when it’s the middle of the night.
I suppose I should wait and leave in the morning—that’s what any normal person would do, right? But if I wait, there is a chance Mama would find out what I have planned, and I wouldn’t put it past her to lock me in my room until my wedding day. To whoever that may be to.
No. Papa told me I must leave as soon as possible, and as soon as possible would be tonight. I need to make sure I don’t lose this opportunity.
Fire crackles in the hearth as Papa continues to scurry around the library gathering all the books he had just moments before tossed all over the room like confetti. It seems as if he’s in his own happy little world — and I won’t be getting any other answers out of him tonight. Tucking the atlas close to me, I cross the room where he’s stacking the spilled books and kiss him on his cheek.
“Are you off, Neely girl?” The confusion behind his eyes brings tears to my own.
I throw my arms around him. “I am off, Papa.” And even though I know he won’t understand me, I add. “I’m going to bring Grady home, and I’m going to make this right.”
Papa pulls me back, strong hands gripping my arms. “Well, of course you will.” His smile is a juxtaposition of fierce and confused.
I nod. Not sure I’m strong enough for this. Not sure I can do this on my own. But when Papa nods in return, for a split second, I think I see clarity in Papa’s eyes. All fire and ice and courage and strength. But then I blink, and the clouds are back in place. In that split moment, I know I can do this. Papa has been preparing me all along.
“Right. Come along then, Sanderson.” I call over my shoulder as I walk toward the library door. Sanderson shakes himself awake and hops off the back of the couch with a thump. I always supposed cats to be quiet and graceful. Not Sanderson. He sounds like a book dropping whenever he jumps off anything.
Turning at the library door, I steal a glance at Papa one more time before I slip through. Praying this will work. Praying I can find Grady and bring him home.
But first, I need to figure out how to make that possible.
I do the only thing I can think of — something I haven’t done in years and years. Using a flashlight, I blink out a message to Uly over our lawns. I don’t even know if he’s home from wherever it is that he got off to tonight. If he is home, I don’t even know if he’s awake to see my messages.
I flash the message three more times, my insides twisting in knots, my brain trying its best to formulate another plan with every ticking minute that I don’t see a response from Uly. Did I have the code right? We were practically children the last time we used it.
But then, a light flickers in his window with the responding code. I almost squeal as I race down the stairs and to the back gardens.
Uly is already there, waiting for me, breath puffing in front of his face. “Good heavens, Neely, you gave me a fright. What are you even still doing up at this hour? And where is your coat? It’s practically freezing out here.”
In my rush to meet Uly, I forgot all I had on for warmth was Papa’s old, tattered sweater. I shiver, but I honestly couldn’t say if it is from excitement or the cold. “I’ll be fine, Uly. I didn’t think you were going to respond.”
“It took me forever to find a blasted flashlight. We haven’t used the flashlight code in…” his voice trails as he works out how long it’s been. “Seven? Eight years?”
I don’t have time to reminisce in the gardens. “Uly, I need your help.”
Uly’s face turns serious as I regale what happened in the library as quickly as I can, leaving out the bit about Papa’s warning not to trust anyone. Surely he couldn’t have meant Uly. And besides. If I’m going to execute my plan to get out tonight before Mama marries me off to who knows who, I’m going to need some help. Grady is normally the one I would turn to in situations like these (not that I’ve had any situations like these before), but considering he’s the one I have to save, Uly will have to do.
At some point, I start pacing, stopping in front of Uly only after I finish. “So will you do it? Will you help me?”
“Help you do what? Run away from home in the middle of the night? No! Are you mad?” Uly splutters. It’s only after he says it that he realizes what he just said. “Neely, I—”
I shake my head, cutting him off. Tears burn my eyes. I am a fool to think Uly would help. The days of being children and dreaming up adventures are over. The overwhelming weight I felt on my shoulders with Uly’s statement—with knowing that I would have to figure this out all on my own, makes it hard to breathe. And all at once, I feel the cold. Feel it to my bones. This is a doomed adventure before it even started. If Uly isn’t going to help me, I’m not going to waste time begging.
I turn on my heel and head back toward the house.
“Neely, wait.” Uly reaches for my arm, but I yank away, spinning to face him.
“No, Uly, I can’t wait. If you aren’t going to help me, I’m going to have to figure this how to do it without you.”
In the deafening silence that is the middle of the night, I’m afraid voices sound like shouts. I glance back at the house, afraid I’ll see lights flickering in the windows. Afraid I’ll see someone watching us, but all is still.
“There has to be some other way to bring your brother home,” Uly protests.
“Papa told me I had to go. I have to be the one to bring him home. I have no choice.” I don’t tell him about the atlas. A part of me afraid that Uly would use it as another excuse to tell me that Papa’s request is just that of a madman.
“Of course, you have a choice—”
“What. What choice do I have?” I push my hair back from my face and shove it behind my ear. Not like it’ll stay there. “To stay here and choose a husband to marry? To watch as Papa little by little disappears until there’s nothing left? Of never seeing Grady again? Those don’t sound like choices, Uly. It’s a shadow of a life. A life that I will wither away in, and that’s no life at all. So, no.” My voice softens. “I don’t have a choice. This is the only one I have, and I’m taking it.”
There’s a war behind Uly’s eyes. My arm in his grip again—probably to keep me from running off while he figures out what he’s going to say. He always says I’m an impatient thing. Just when I think he’s going to tell me I’m on my own, he nods and says, “Okay, I’ll help you.”
Relief washes over me all at once. “Really?” I squeal, throwing my arms around his neck. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!”
“Shhhh,” Uly chuckles. “No need to wake up the entire neighborhood.” He pats my back before pulling my arms from around his neck and setting them by my side. He bends eye level with me. “I need to figure some things out. Give me an hour?”
I’m nodding. An hour would be plenty of time.
“You’ll need to pack for your journey—pack light, only what you need.”
“Okay.” I can’t believe this is really happening. I turn to head back into the house, shivering with excitement and cold, when Uly’s voice stops me.
“Neely, remember how, when you used to sneak out and come to the docks with me and Grady?”
I frown, but nod.
“Make sure you’re dressed like that.”
“Okay?” Everything in me wants to ask what Uly is thinking, but that will just waste time we don’t have. I’m going to have to trust him in order to make this work.
“This is not going to be easy, Neely.”
Tugging Papa’s sweater more around me, I roll my eyes at Uly (not that he could see my eyes in the dark) and huff out a sigh. “I know—”
“No, you don’t know. It’s going to be hard. It’s going to be very dangerous, and if your mother ever finds out I assisted you, she’ll have my neck.”
The intensity in Uly’s eyes lets me know he’s not joking around. “I understand.”
Nodding one more time, he says, “One hour. Meet me here.” And with that, he disappears back through the hedge that separates our yards.
One more hour until my first real adventure truly begins.
Atlas of Neely Spencer is currently being released chapter by chapter as I write it. You can read all about why I chose this format in this post. Please forgive any errors in spelling, grammar, and punctuation since this is not professionally edited. Think of it like this: you're getting to read my first-pass pages!