Echoes by Marissa Lete (best books for students to read txt) 📕

Couches, a TV, end tables, and lamps are scattered across the room. Further down, the kitchen and dining room look pretty well furnished, too. Almost as if someone is still living here, or, I suppose, like they had to leave in a hurry without taking anything with them.

After I take it all in, I move deeper into the house. The echoes are just as quiet as the house is right now, and I’m sure I could hear a pin drop from across the room. My eyes are peeled, looking for any sign of movement, and I’m crouched low to the ground. But as I move from kitchen to bathroom, I don’t see any signs of life.

Eventually, when I’m sure that the downstairs is empty, I creep over to a staircase I’d passed earlier, listening for any sounds from up above. When I’m sure nothing is coming, I quickly and quietly climb the staircase, pausing at the top to look around before I go any further. The upstairs opens into a hallway with three doors, two on the right and one on the left. The door on the left is slightly ajar, so I slide towards it, peering inside.

It’s a bedroom. A glance around tells me that no one is here, either, so I slip inside and take in my surroundings. A queen-sized bed stands in the center of the room with a dark plaid comforter spread on top. In the silence, I can hear an echo of someone breathing softly on the bed, probably sleeping. Who was it? Maverick?

There’s a bookshelf next to a dresser on one side of the room, and on the other, a desk and an office chair. I walk over to the desk, noticing a stack of papers on it as I get closer. In the dark, I can barely make out the letters that form the words, “Argumentative Essay,” at the top of the first page. It looks like a school assignment, so my eyes are immediately drawn to the top left corner.

I try to control my breathing as I read the name at the top.

Maverick Schall.

A sudden noise cuts through the darkness, startling me. Downstairs, it sounds like a window being closed. I wait for a second before I go to the bedroom window and make a small gap in the blinds to see out of. I can see the driveway, the little black car still parked there. After a few seconds, a figure appears from the side of the house, walking toward the car. I spring into action, exiting the bedroom and rushing down the stairs. I can’t let him leave. I need answers.

When I get to the window I’d climbed through earlier, it’s closed. The screen is replaced and the only sign that it was ever tampered with is the small hole in the corner of the glass.

I throw it open, kicking out the screen with as much force as I can muster. When I finally get outside, I break into a sprint, whipping around the side of the house.

When I reach the driveway, disappointment hits me. The car is gone. My chance of finding answers is lost.

I turn back to the house, shivering as a cold breeze blows across the yard. I want to go back inside and turn every square inch of the house upside down to find more information, but instead, I just stand there, trying to catch my breath.

For the rest of the night, I toss and turn, questions running through my head. Was the person in that house Maverick? And if he was, what was he doing there? Why was the house foreclosed, and where do they live now? Around 4, I come to the decision that attempting to sleep is futile, so I flip my bedroom light on and pull out my laptop to do some research.

I start by typing the name “Maverick Schall” into the search bar. In seconds, a list of various people with the same name pops up and I begin to scroll. Unfortunately, as I click on each link and scan through, I don’t find anything that stands out. Most of the people listed are from different states or aren’t close to my age.

I type in “Annie Schall” next, and the first link that comes up takes me to an obituary for Annie Elizabeth Schall, who passed away on April 19th of this year.

My eyes drift down the page.

 

Annie Elizabeth Schall, 49, passed away Sunday morning at her home in Shorewick.

In honoring her wishes, no services will be held.

Annie was born in Shorewick, the daughter of Eliott William Schall and Angela Rose Schall. Annie worked at Lakefield Elementary as a Kindergarten teacher for 23 years until retiring in January of this year.

Surviving is her son, Maverick Schall.

 

I swallow hard.

Maverick’s mom passed away. The same woman I’d heard an echo of that first night we’d moved into our new house. I want to feel sad at the knowledge of her passing, but because I can’t remember her, I can’t seem to feel anything other than confusion.

And that’s it. Nothing else. No other family, no cause of death, no information about where Maverick is now. It isn’t helpful at all, but it does strike me as odd that Annie was so young when she passed. And no cause of death is listed.

Now I have more solid proof that Maverick really exists, and yet, I’m no closer to finding him. It’s relieving to know that I’m most likely not hearing things that didn’t happen, but at the same time, it’s unnerving.

Because why can’t I remember him?

 

Chapter 16

The entire next week I can barely focus on anything but the echoes around me. Everywhere I go, I listen, hoping for more information about Maverick. Nothing comes up, as usual, but I stay on edge, just