68

Cold Butte, Montana

Logan woke with his heart racing.

He was a little scared because of something Billy Canton had said about the entire world watching them today.

The entire world. Man, oh, man.

But meeting the pope wasn’t the only reason Logan was nervous. He had to carry out his plan when the time was right. Okay, first things first. He glanced out his window wondering if his dad had…

Yes!

Logan saw his dad’s red truck. He’d got back in time like he’d promised.

Logan’s anxiety turned to excitement as he hurried to his dad’s bedroom door. It was open slightly, offering a sliver view of his arm hanging over the side. Logan was about to enter when he was suddenly pulled away.

“Let him sleep,” Samara whispered and shut the door. “He got in late.”

“But he’s coming, right?” he whispered.

Samara pushed him gently toward the kitchen.

Six Seconds 395

“Absolutely. He’s going to join us later at the school.” “Will there be time?”

“Yes. Don’t worry. One of the other fathers will pick him up. Come, I’ve made your favorite, bacon and eggs. When you’re done, get washed up and put on your suit. We have to leave very soon. I’m going to get ready.”

As he ate, Logan noticed the smell of fried bacon mixed with cleaning soap, like the floor had just been washed. Weird. When he heard the shower start he looked down the hall at the closed bathroom door.

Good.

He glanced at the TV with the sound turned low. Local stations out of Billings were running live coverage of the visit. They showed live pictures of Logan’s school, the crowds, reports of the pope before massive stadium crowds in cities he’d already visited.

On top of the TV Logan saw Samara’s purse. Her cell phone was inside.

Now was the time.

If he couldn’t reach his mom on their phone here, maybe he could reach her on Samara’s cell phone. Just one call. Keeping an eye on the bathroom door, Logan plucked the phone from Samara’s purse. He pressed his home area code and number. He waited for the connec tion, praying that in seconds, he would hear his mom’s voice.

He nearly burst, before his heart sank.

His call didn’t go through. He tried again. It didn’t work. The battery level was good. He tried again. Nothing. What was he doing wrong? Maybe he should wake Dad for help? After their talk he’d let him call, wouldn’t he? Things were getting better. Weren’t they?

Logan looked at the bedroom door.

Hold it.

He’d forgot to press 1 for long distance.

Logan tried it again. Good. It was working this time. There was lots of noise on the line like a thunderstorm of static but it was ringing and ringing. It clicked and Logan caught his breath.

“Maggie Conlin,” she said.

“Mom?”

“Logan! Is that you!?”

“I miss you, Mom.” Static filled the silence. “Mom, Dad said he misses you, too.”

“Oh, Logan, I love you! I love Daddy! He’s just confused.”

“Mom, I want to come home, I-” Their connection buzzed.

“Where you are? I’m coming as fast as I can! Honey, just tell me!”

The call went dead.

The shower stopped.

Logan switched off the phone, placed it back in Samara’s purse, his entire body tingling.

He’d talked to Mom!

He’d have to figure out a way to try again later, he thought as he brushed his teeth, washed up, then put on his suit. His dad had already knotted the tie for him. Combing his hair at the mirror, Logan wished his dad would wake up.

The suit was comfortable. It looked pretty cool.

“Oh, you look so handsome,” Samara said when Logan stepped into the living room, where she’d been working on her computer. “Come, quickly.” She stood

Six Seconds 397 and grabbed her camera. She looked pretty. Almost like a model in her new suit. “Here. Let me take some pictures to share with my friends.” She stood him before a plain wall, studied the camera settings and took several frames. “Everyone will be so proud. Don’t move. Wait a few seconds.”

They waited.

“Nice,” she said. “Now some of us together.” Pleased, Samara then fixed the camera to a tripod, set it, then joined Logan. Not only did she look nice, she smelled good, too. Like flowers, Logan thought, as the camera flashed and automatically fired off several more frames of them together.

She checked them on her laptop, waiting a moment. “Good.”

Samara set to work downloading the pictures into her computer.

“What about Dad?”

“What about him? He’s still sleeping.” Samara was typing rapidly on her keyboard. Her attention was on her computer work.

“Don’t we need pictures with him, too?”

“Sorry.” She glanced at the live TV coverage of the visit, then back to her computer as if she were rushed. “Sorry. No, we’ll take more with him at the school with the pope.”

Logan went to her, to see what was so important on the computer. She didn’t mind him looking over her shoulder. Samara was checking her copy of the official program for the pope’s visit-it looked like a minuteby-minute breakdown. He noticed she’d run a cable from the TV to her laptop, so some coverage was playing live on her screen. Then he saw pictures of Samara under a palm tree in Iraq with her son and husband. Then he saw the photos she just took of himself in his new suit, and her.

“What’s all this? What’re you doing?”

Samara’s eyes widened and she smiled.

“Logan, we’re taking part in the honor of a lifetime. I want to share it on the Web with my friends around the world. Almost done.”

Samara entered codes and commands.

A small timer emerged and started counting down.

“All right. Done.”

Samara left her computer on with all of her programs running, picture, timers, live news coverage.

“Let’s go-we have to get over to the community hall for our briefing and checks before they take us to the school.”

She got another camera from her bag.

“Is that a new one?” Logan asked.

“Yes, a very special one I want to use at the school.” Samara lowered herself to Logan and smiled. “Who could ever have imagined this? Very soon, we are going to be meeting one of the most powerful people on earth. You and I will have a place in history, Logan. Soon everyone in the world will see our faces and speak our names.”

“They’ll say our names? But why?”

“Because we’ll be part of history.”

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