Page 82 of Ordinary Secrets

Something mechanical clicks. A robotic voice comes out of nowhere. “Password?”

Arella perks up. “Oh, it talks!”

“What?” I snatch the bear from her and crush it against my ear. The bear goes silent. Frantically, I press the bear’s stomach, willing it to speak again. “How did you do that?”

“Incorrect password,” the bear says, making my heart pound.

Arella shrugs. “I just felt something hard inside and pressed it.”

I shove the bear back into her hands. “Do it again.”

After giving me a sideways glance, she presses on the bear all over. It takes her a moment to find the sweet spot again. When she does, something clicks, and that same robotic voice chimes. “Password?”

“Uh, Trey Grant,” I say.

“Incorrect password.”

Arella eyes me through a skeptical gaze. “You didn’t know it did that?”

“No.” Hastily, I toss everything back into the wooden box and lock it up. My chest is heavy, and my lungs feel tight. I can barely breathe as I say, “Let’s get you home.”

After droppingArella off with a promise to see her in the morning, I’m back in my bedroom, staring at my old teddy bear. I’ve got a kitchen knife in my hands, hovering over the stuffed animal like I’m about to perform surgery.

“Sorry, Andy.”

Carefully, I slice into the bear’s back. White stuffing spills out of the hole. I dig most of it out before finding a black button-shaped object. I press it.

“Password?”

“Trey Andrew Grant,” I say in a clear, crisp voice.

“Incorrect password.”

I press the button again. “Andrew James Grant.”

“Incorrect password.”

“Suzie Marie Grant.”

“Incorrect password.”

Dammit.

It had to have been my parents who hid this device inside my bear. What password would they have chosen?

I try my birthdate in every combination I can think of. I try their wedding date. Our old home phone number. The name of my pet fish who died in the explosion. The name of my bear. Nothing works.

Defeated, I sink to the floor.What could it be?

An hour passes before Arella’s words echo in my head.“Does it sing or anything?”

That’s it!It seems obvious now that I think about it. My mom’s song. The one she wrote just for me. The one I occasionally sing to myself whenever I’m sad. That’s gotta be it.

I press the button again.

“Password?”

I sing each word clearly, “When you’re lost without me, you’ll always have Andy. When you feel you don’t belong, hug this bear and sing this song. Look to the sky when you feel down. Know that things will turn around. Work twice as hard to the finish line. Now it’s your time to shine.”

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