Sally

“I’m going to go pick up lunch. I’ll be back,” my mother called from the front door.

“Okay, I’ll be here,” I hollered from her office. I turned back to wrapping her collection of ceramic bunnies. I made my way down to the bottom of the book shelf, where I found a collection of photo albums. With a lunch break nearing, I relaxed with a dusty book of vintage photos. I flipped through the pages and saw my mom goofing around at a family backyard party. I saw Grandma and Grandpa with brown hair. Aunt Linda and Uncle Mike were the grade-school sweethearts they always told me they were.

However, a strange face reappeared on every page. The girl played with the famous family dog Hoagie, smiled in front of a birthday cake, and hugged my mom. I searched for more photos of her, but she went missing for pages. As my mother and her sister went to prom and dragged their boyfriends into the family Christmas photo, the girl evaporated. The next page presented a collage of graduation photos: one of my mother, another of Aunt Linda, and a third of the girl grown up.

“I’m back!” My mother rustled with a paper bag, as she opened and closed the door.

“That was quick,” I added, while removing the photo from its sleeve and sliding it into my pocket. I replaced the album and told myself to start packing up the kitchen after lunch. We ate lunch, chit-chatted about our new place, and packaged belongings for three more hours before going home. In the car, I eyed the photo’s ear sticking out of my pocket. I covered it with my purse, careful to not bend the photo.

Once home, I ran to my room, closed the door behind me, and pulled out the photo. I was reminded of the mysterious girl. Then, I flipped the photo, looked at its back, and read “Sally’s graduation.” Treated like a legacy student at my high school, I knew I’d visit the library the next day.

***

“Ms. Hansen, can you help me with something?”

“Sure, Cheryl. What is it?”

“Do you know of a Sally that graduated from our school?” I asked and looked over my shoulders, although none of my family would be there.

“Lots of Sallys. Do you have a last name?”

My mother’s maiden name. “Parker.”

The librarian typed away on her computer.

“What are you doing, Ms. Hansen?”

“Searching our school database of students. I’m sorry, Cheryl, but no Sally Parkers graduated from here.”

I furrowed my brows and pursed my lips. “Would you mind looking at something for me?”

“Sure.”

I took the photo out of my backpack and handed it over. “Do you know who this is?” I bit my lip and tapped my finger, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry again. I don’t know who this is.” I shook my head. “But I know where this is.”

“Really?” I stood on my tiptoes and leaned in.

“Yes, the Percy School for Girls.” She set down the photo and pointed at the building in the background. “One of my friends went there.”

“Does she know Sally?”

“I’m not sure. The school’s just right over the state line. Maybe an hour from here.”

I swiped the photo and ran off. “Thank you, Ms. Hansen!” I shouted from over my shoulder.

“You’re welcome, but shush! You’re still in my library.”

***

When racing to pack my things at my locker, I froze and realized I still had one class left for the day, before I could go. I kicked and punched the air, made sure I had everything I needed to leave from Calculus, and stomped over to class. Waiting in my seat for class to start, I searched for directions for my after school excursion on my phone. I made sure to put it away once Ms. Phillips began her lecture. I would not get detention with such a hot lead to act on.

My leg never stopped shaking for the whole class. I drew in my notebook the photo of Sally. I detailed the sketch with lots of trees, imagining a school secluded in the forest.

***

I was right. One hour and ten minutes later, I turned down a gravel road enveloped by trees. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating a twinkling effect on my windshield. I continued on this path for minutes without anyone else in sight. Then, I saw a girl running. The next second, I saw another girl running after her. I rolled down my window to hear laughter. One girl wore a tutu and tie-dye shirt, and the other wore a Sailor Moon Halloween costume, disproving my prediction of prim girls in gray dresses.

I parked in front of the brick building that looked like an asylum before it became haunted. Vines of ivy hugged the exterior, and a greenhouse and garden accompanied this haven far from the buzzing of the highway. I grabbed my purse, secured the photo in my sweaty hand, and opened the wooden door twice my height.

I was floored by the light flooding in, the hallways bustling with girls, and the happy commotion. The air was inflated by smiles, laughter, thank-yous, and jokes. This school proved me wrong time and time again. I scanned for the first adult I could find. The best I could find was a girl about my age setting tables for dinner. “Excuse me?” I started. 

“Hello,” she responded and placed down the silverware. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I was hoping to talk with someone about your school’s alumnae.”

“Absolutely, follow me.” She walked me through the dining room, a ballroom now filled with easels and paints, and to the office of a woman sitting behind a green desk decorated with floors.

“Hello, Ms. Patty,” she greeted the new woman, as I admired the stained glass behind her. “I was hoping you could help...” She turned to me. “I never got your name.”

“Cheryl.”

“Nice to meet you, Cheryl. I’m Lizzy.” She smiled and turned back. “Cheryl here needs help regarding our alumnae.”

“Of course. Thank you, Lizzy.” The girl nodded and strode back to her project at hand.

“Thank you,” I added.

“Please sit,” Ms. Patty said while gesturing to a maroon velvet chair, either a family heirloom or a good thrift-store find. “How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if a specific person attended your school.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Sally Parker.” I placed the photo on the desk in front of her.

She gravitated to the photo, lifted it, and smiled. “This is amazing.” She laughed with her whole belly. “Sally, you’re not going to believe this!” She hollered to the closed door that I dismissed. I gawked at the woman who opened the door and entered. She shared my mother’s eyes and my aunt’s nose.

“What is it, Patty?” Her voice rang like my grandmother’s, like wooden windchimes.

“Look at you!” She handed her the photo, and Sally laughed like my grandfather, as if he was standing in the room with us.

“Oh my gosh!” Sally laughed. “Where did you get this?”

“Cheryl here brought it in.”

Sally looked at me and tilted her head. “Cheryl’s your name?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I murmured.

“Who’s your mother?”

I gulped. “Mary Parker.”

“It took you long enough to get here,” she joked and smiled. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

“We do?”

“I’m sure you have countless questions for your long-lost aunt, right?” She joked some more and held open her door. “Thank you, Patty.”

“Thank you, Ms. Patty,” I added. She nodded with her jaw dropped and her hand on her heart.

I followed Sally. A photo came into life and claimed we were blood. I didn’t doubt her, but it’s still shocking to have hunches come true.