Читать книгу Sarah Lean - 3 Book Collection - Sarah Lean, Sarah Lean - Страница 38

I TOOK SAM TO THE SHED.

“What’s this?” Sam said. It was Dad’s guitar, zipped up in a canvas guitar-shaped bag.

“Dad doesn’t play any more,” I tapped. “He said it’s broken.”

Sam opened the zip and ran his fingers along the strings, leaning his left ear near. And then he found what was wrong; the plectrum in the bottom of the bag was snapped in two pieces, like a broken heart.

I pinned up a photograph of Mum holding me when I was a baby, looking at me, laughing, loving. I pinned it next to the new photograph of Homeless.

Then I told Sam. Sometimes you had to explain things to Sam that he had never heard of before. Sometimes he seemed to know things with his own secret brilliant heart and understanding.

“What do you think is out there?” I spelled.

“Washing line—” Sam tapped.

“No, out there, in space.”

Sam frowned. “What, like heaven?” he tapped.

“Maybe.”

“You must have some idea, or you wouldn’t ask me.”

I like what Sam spelled; it just shows how clever he is.

He closed his eyes and spread his arms out. He found my face and put his hand over my eyes. I heard sounds: faraway footsteps, faraway cars, faraway birds. I heard all of the everyday things and they made me feel safe.

“Sometimes I wonder if the stars are people,” I spelled.

“What sort of people?”

“People who used to be on earth.”

I thought that heaven was up there somewhere, that’s what people said, but maybe the distant stars might be the people gone from earth. Maybe that’s what a ghost is, one of our stars come to visit us.

“What are stars like?” Sam tapped.

“If there were no stars, it would just be completely black.”

That’s probably what it was like for Sam being blind. Like there are no stars in the night sky, no moon, no street lights, no torches.

“There’s no noise up there either,” I spelled, “nothing. All we have is the stars and they make you feel you’re not alone.”

Sam smiled. “Are you a star?” he tapped.

“Not me, I’m not the star.”

“Who then?”

There was no going back. “My mum,” I spelled. “She died last year.”

Sam went quiet for a minute, so still.

“Why would she go so far away?” he tapped.

Maybe it was because of what Sam spelled, I don’t know, but it felt as if she was right there, in the shed, right next to me.

“Maybe she didn’t,” I tapped.

Sam didn’t say anything. He was leaning up on his elbow, grinning.

“Why are you laughing?” I tapped.

And suddenly I wasn’t going to tell him. He was going to laugh at me, say it wasn’t true, and I felt stupid that I was going to trust him. He might be blind and deaf, but he was just like all the others. I pushed his hand away.

He wiped his hand over his mouth, wiped the grin away.

“Not laughing, happy. What’s the matter?” he spelled, holding my hand tight.

“You’re just like all the others,” I spelled. “They think I can’t see her, but I can.”

Sam sat cross-legged with his head drooping and I sat with my back to him. Of all the people it was stupid to tell Sam. How could he believe what he couldn’t see?

When I turned round, there was a gentle smile on Sam’s moon-coloured face.

“Can anyone else see her?” he spelled slowly.

And that’s when I knew what I had to do.

“I think Jed can,” I spelled.