The Indigo Notebook by Laura Resau

Author:Laura Resau [Resau, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-375-89384-1
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2009-09-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“Let’s go to Faustino’s.” These are Wendell’s first words after hours of eyebrow-furrowed thought, during which he was probably weighing Silvio’s warning.

It’s early evening. After the divination, we spent the day in Agua Santa, eating potato soup, collecting fruit, stripping kernels off corncobs, feeding pigs. Wendell was silent the whole time. Now, hearing him mention Faustino’s name, I shiver again. We’re heading down the dirt street toward the main road, nearly at the intersection. To the left, up the hill, is the route to Faustino’s house, and to the right, a cobbled road leads downhill to the bus stop. “Come on, Z! Let’s go.”

“Uh, Wendell, were you not there with me? Did you not hear Taita Silvio tell us—very clearly—to stay away?”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s late, Wendell. If we’re going to the house of someone who might have sold his soul to the devil—who we were warned repeatedly was dangerous—at least let’s go in the daylight.”

“Fine.” He takes one last, reluctant look up at the house on the hill. “Tomorrow.”

We turn downhill, toward the highway. I study his face. He looks lost in thought. “Wendell,” I say, “did that mean something to you, when Silvio said ‘a place of light and dark’?”

He looks at the shadows sliding down the mountains, like streams of dark water. In the sunny spots, the last sunbeams hop over the tips of leaves. Finally, he says, “For a while now I’ve had these flashes of feelings. And it’s true there’s darkness, something dangerous. But there’s something else, something bright, something really good, Z.” He rests his gaze on me, his eyes hopeful. “So bright and good it’s worth the risk.”

The sun slips completely behind the mountain’s peak, leaving a golden halo. “All right,” I say, against my better judgment. “I’ll go with you tomorrow.” I make a mental note to bring my pocketknife and leave a note for Layla, just in case.

On the ride home, the music is so loud it’s hard to talk, so we sit side by side in the gathering darkness. When the bus pulls into the stop, we start walking toward the town center. The streetlights have turned on, casting yellow light into the blue dusk.

“Hey, Z,” Wendell says. “Let’s go to that waterfall tomorrow.”

I swerve out of the way of a bunch of Swedish tourists, nearly falling off the curb. I’m caught off balance. I thought he’d forgotten the waterfall thing. “But we’re going to Faustino’s house tomorrow.”

“Let’s go before that. Early in the morning. That’s when you and Layla did it, right?”

My fingernails are digging into my palms. “What will you wish for?” I ask finally, because if he’s wishing for Her, there’s no way I’m waking up at four a.m.

He shrugs, loping along beside me. “Isn’t that supposed to stay secret? Like a birthday wish?”

I stare at the orange neon Internet café sign behind his head, suddenly angry.

He stops walking, motions awkwardly to the café. “Listen, I have to catch up on my e-mail.”

I slug his shoulder. The slug comes out harder than I expected.

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