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And he went downstairs.

Chapter 69

In Which Jackson Has an Idea

Where did you get that?” his mom asked.

Jackson was eating whole-wheat blueberry pancakes with dark maple syrup. The picture was propped up on the table beside him.

“Oh…um…nowhere. It’s just a picture of a house,” he said.

“Hm…It looks really familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen that house before,” she thought aloud.

The house did look familiar. Jackson couldn’t shake the feeling that he had also seen it before, somewhere else.

After breakfast, everyone agreed they would go out shopping. Jackson asked if he could stay home. His mom looked at him with a raised eyebrow and then said, “We’re only ten minutes away, so if there are any problems, call me. And Mrs. Smith is home next door if you’re desperate.”

Jackson barely heard her, because he had just had an idea.

He waited until his family climbed into the car and drove down the street. He went into the living room and sat down on the floor in front of the wall unit. He opened the cupboard door and pulled out all of the photo albums. He flipped page after page, looking at old photos. He had definitely seen that house before. Somewhere.

Two hours passed and Jackson was fed up. But in a nice way. Like when you’re just tired of looking. Not the kind where you start throwing things because you’re frustrated. (Which by the way, is a rude way of behaving, and there is absolutely no reason for behavior like that. Just ask your mom.)

Jackson pulled out the last photo album.

Of course the photo was in there. How could it not be? It was the last photo album. Things are never in the first place you look, always the last. If only there was a way to look at the last place you would look first, and not the other way around, then you would save a lot of time in finding things.

Jackson saw it.

The House.

Jackson held up his photo beside it. It looked the same. Except that the front door in this picture was a perfectly good way to go in. It didn’t have huge,

wispy cobwebs attached in six different spots with gargantuan, hairy-backed spiders waiting for their lunch. And the door didn’t have big boards nailed across it with a skull-and-crossbones sign beside it. The big hole in the porch floor didn’t exist. This house was quite lovely. And there was Great-Aunt Harriett, standing on the pathway. She was smiling. Her hair was surprisingly short. And beside her on the grass was a little bassinet. Jackson took the photo out of its sleeve and turned it over. Harriett and Josh, summer of 1960. Jackson’s jaw dropped. Was Josh…was Josh really Great-Aunt Harriett’s son? What was he doing in her hair? Jackson was very confused.

At that moment, everyone came home. It was chaos. The dog barked, Jackson’s little sister was crying, his dad tripped over the barking dog and spilled the bags of groceries, and his brother ran to the washroom…chaos. Jackson’s mom came into the living room where Jackson was sitting.

“Anything happen while we were gone? Did the mail come?” she stopped and looked at him curiously. “What are you doing?”

“Mom, did Great-Aunt Harriett grow up in this house?” he asked, showing her the photograph.

She took the photo from him and studied it quietly. She smiled wistfully. “I had forgotten about that house. It was a great house. I used to spend my summers there when I was a little girl. Aunt Harriett had the most beautiful gardens and so many birds. I used to think she had every bird in the world in her backyard. And she had that crazy cedar maze. I used to love playing there. Josh and I…” she trailed off.

“Who’s Josh?”

She cleared her throat. “Josh was Aunt Harriett’s son. He died very young. Awful car accident. It broke Aunt Harriett’s heart. She was never really the same after that.”

“Do you think the house is still there?” he asked.

“I doubt it, honey. It’s been so long. It was probably sold and the property turned into a mall or a car lot or something.” She gave the photo back to Jackson.

“Can we go look?”

“Oh, buddy, it’s pretty