Island

  “He told all that to you?”

  “Is it true?”

  “Is it your business?”

  “Nope.”

  Soul mates.

  I’d never really thought of Grandpa Childers that way.

  But it was true.

  I was closer to him than to a lot of my friends.

  What was I going to do when he …

  Don’t. Cry. My eyes were welling up again.

  “The boss wanted to fire me,” the busboy went on. “Your gramps told him not to.”

  “He’s a nice guy,” I grumbled. “Sometimes too nice.”

  “Always was.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I met him. When I was younger.”

  “How come I don’t remember you?”

  “Maybe I’m not that memorable.”

  “You live around here?”

  “I did, a long time ago. I’m moving back now.”

  “Lucky us.”

  Ease up, Rachel.

  I was being harsh.

  So he made a dumb mistake.

  Grandpa Childers seemed to like him. How bad could he be?

  “I’m Rachel. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “Colin.” He shrugged; “It’s okay. I can take it. You’re upset.”

  “Not about you, though.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “I can’t go back in there.”

  “So stay here. Relax. You don’t have to say a word. I won’t tell anyone you’re here.”

  “Okay” I sat on a wooden barrel, far from the smell of the trash.

  He went about his job, dragging out plastic bags from the kitchen.

  He seemed so calm. Patient. He wasn’t nosy.

  Actually, if you got beyond the slightly greasy hair and sharp features, he wasn’t so bad-looking, either. His eyes were a luminous green, his brows dark and thick, his skin olive-gold.

  What’s more, he seemed to care.

  Which was more than I could say about most of the other people in my life.

  “Well,” Colin finally said, “I have to go back on the floor. Feeling better?”

  Tell him.

  I shook my head and fought back tears. “I — I don’t think Grandpa Childers has too long to live.”

  Colin’s eyes deepened with concern. “He’s old, Rachel. He’s lived a good, long life.”

  “He has a heart condition. And my parents don’t treat him right. They never think about what he wants.”

  “I’d be pretty happy if they gave me a cruise for my birthday.”

  “He doesn’t want this. He’s petrified about going on the water.”

  Colin laughed. “That man? He’s petrified of nothing!”

  “Not true. He was once in a boating accident in the bay. He lost everyone he loved.”

  “He was the only one who tried to save all those kids. He wasn’t afraid. He was a hero.”

  “Oh? You were there?” I said sarcastically.

  “Everyone knows about it. Besides, it was sixty years ago, Rachel. He’s totally over it by now.”

  “Now you sound like them. Hey, a few deaths, a bad day, just grow up and forget it, right? Well, you never forget things like that! Even heroes have fears and nightmares. You think they stop when you become a grownup?”

  “I didn’t say that — ”

  Enough.

  Go now.

  I barged through the gate.

  “Wait!”

  He was grabbing me from behind. I tried to shake him off but he spun me around.

  I felt his green eyes reach into me. They were like magnets, pulling my feelings toward him. Telling me it was all right, he knew, he understood.

  I tried to keep my feelings inside, but in a moment I was sobbing, my head resting on his shoulder. I felt a breeze ripple through my hair, and I realized that it was actually Colin’s fingers, and they felt so soothing and good.

  “You must think I’m crazy,” I said.

  Colin just held me silently, rocking back and forth. It must have been for two or three minutes, but it felt like an hour.

  “When I was a kid,” he whispered, “I slept with this little white bunny. I took it with me wherever I went. One day I dropped it on the street and didn’t notice it was gone until I got home. I was devastated, and so was my mom. She went out in the rain and found it in the gutter, wet and dirty — and when she brought it back, we both held it, crying. I slept with that bunny right up until — well, recently.”

  “Really?”

  He turned away. “Yeah.”

  “What was its name?”

  “Her name. Fluffy.”

  I don’t know what I found so funny — the way his face was turning colors, the sound of that silly name coming from this big, hunky guy — but I laughed.

  Colin let go of me. “Thanks a lot. Remind me never to tell you any secrets.”

  “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing with you!”

  “But I’m not laughing!”

  I tried to pucker my lips. Keep a straight face. “Right.”

  Fluffy?

  I doubled over.

  The edge of Colin’s lip curled up.

  Then he was laughing, too.

  Clang! Clang!

  The bell for the yacht.

  “I have to go!” Colin said.

  He gave me a look. Brief. Barely a nanosecond.

  But as he disappeared through the door, I couldn’t move.

  The problem is solved.

  You’re going back.

  I didn’t say that. I said the problem is solved.

  4

  I’D NEVER SEEN ANYTHING like it.

  After lunch, as the yacht floated in the bay, Captain Neil, Grandpa Childers, and I stood at the rail, gazing at the wall of clouds.

  That’s what it was, a wall.

  It had grown. It sat on the water, so low and contained that the sun shone brightly above it.

  “I’ve heard of these cloud systems but never seen one.” Captain Neil took the binoculars from his eyes and gave them to me. “I believe they last twenty-four hours or so, then — poof — they’re gone without a trace. Rare. Happens on summer days when the temperature drops. Guess some of the warm, humid air doesn’t want to escape. Pulls the clouds into its own weather system.”

  I looked through the binoculars. Up close, the clouds seemed to be boiling, folding in on themselves.

  The yacht was floating freely now. Captain Neil had cut the engines. In the stillness of the summer afternoon, I felt I could hear the distant hiss of the clouds’ swirling mist. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

  “The system isn’t going anywhere,” Captain Neil said. “And even if it does, we have more than enough power to get to shore in time. I wouldn’t worry.”

  I was fascinated.

  But as Captain Neil bustled away, Grandpa Childers was gripping my hand a little too tightly.

  “Hogwash,” he muttered under his breath.

  I could see Colin now. Wandering among the crowd with a tray, collecting empty glasses. His hair had come loose from the ponytail, his shirt was coming undone.

  “May I, mum?” I heard him say to a woman as he grabbed her glass from behind, startling her.

  He was awkward.

  He was sloppy.

  He was

  Stunning.

  The thought came out of nowhere.

  You didn’t think that, Rachel.

  You don’t know him.

  My face was heating up. I hated the feeling.

  Suddenly Grandpa Childers seemed to stiffen. “Excuse me, Rachel, I think I’ll go inside.”

  I snapped out of my daydream. “What’s up, Grandpa?”

  “Just a little … dizzy. You stay. I’ll be fine.”

  As he walked away, I noticed he was leaning to one side a bit. Grabbing onto things.

  I ran to his side and took his arm. “It’s almost over,” I said.

  “At my age, you say that to yourself every d
ay,” he said with a wan smile.

  “I meant the cruise!”

  Grandpa wasn’t listening to me. His eyes seemed hollow and frightened. “Do you ever feel like stopping time, Rachel? Just staying the same age forever?”

  Something’s up.

  He’s not himself.

  The cruise is affecting his mind.

  I knew it.

  “Why do you ask?” I said.

  Grandpa was giving me a funny, faraway smile. “Remember how you and I used to sing together when you were little — we’d pretend we were onstage?”

  I nodded. “And Mom and Dad yelled at you because I wasn’t doing my homework.”

  “Promise me you’ll remember those songs. Always. Sing them aloud. Make mistakes, go to places you’re not supposed to. Live. My grandfather told me that. He saved me when my parents had almost trampled my spirit into the dust. Don’t give in, Rachel, or you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to get that spirit back. Like me.”

  “Grandpa, you’re scaring me.”

  “Just promise me. Because soon I won’t be around to remind you.”

  “Stop! You’re in great shape! You’re going to live forever!”

  “No, Rachel. Don’t ever say that. No one should live forever. Better to die among people you love than outlive them all.”

  “It was … a figure of speech, Grandpa.”

  His face grew distant once more. “Pardon me. I’m … feeling a bit cranky, dear. I’ll … rest.”

  As he shuffled into the cabin, he seemed to be shrinking. I felt as if I were seeing him slowly disappear before my eyes.

  I turned away. I couldn’t watch.

  And I became aware of a prickling at the back of my neck.

  I was being watched.

  I glanced over my shoulder.

  Colin’s eyes startled me at first. In the reflection of the afternoon sun they seemed almost transparent.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Don’t you have to work?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I cleared all the glasses. Dinner prep starts in a half hour.”

  “Cool,” I said.

  We began walking along the railing. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk.

  Colin had his hands in his pockets. I noticed his shoes were soaking wet. “Accident?” I asked.

  “Accidents. Plural. Lemonade on the left. Bloody Mary on the right.”

  “Clumsy.”

  Colin shrugged. He was beet-red now.

  I liked that about him. For a tough guy, he embarrassed easily.

  I was surprised when he took my arm.

  But I didn’t pull back.

  Soon we were heading down the metal stairway at the bow of the boat.

  Belowdecks was a narrow, cramped walkway. Overhead, the floor of the upper deck formed a low ceiling, No one was down there but us.

  I didn’t mind. Much.

  “Why are we here?” I asked.

  “So no one asks me for a spare lemon or another cup of coffee. I’m on break.”

  “Oh.”

  A salty breeze caught me full in the face and I breathed in deeply. We both turned toward the water. The cloud wall seemed closer than before, its ebbing whirls clear to the naked eye.

  “Besides,” Colin said, “you sounded like you wanted to escape. From the party.”

  “This is an escape?”

  “You’d prefer a tropical island?”

  “Definitely.”

  “ ‘Where the lemonade springs and the bluebird sings …’” he sang in a shaky, whispery voice, “ ‘and no one ever grows o-o-older … ’ Or something like that.”

  “ ‘The Big Rock Candy Mountain’!” I said. “Grandpa Childers used to sing it to me all the time.”

  “So … what’s keeping us?”

  “You called your helicopter?”

  Colin stood up straight. He pulled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and began to climb the railing. “Who needs a helicopter?”

  “Colin, what are you doing?”

  “We can go there ourselves.” He crouched, pitched forward, and dived into the bay. When he emerged, he let out a whoop. “The water’s perfect!”

  “YOU’RE CRAZY!”

  “The ship is floating. The propellers are off!”

  “But your pants — ”

  “I’ll change later! Come on!”

  Insane.

  “Someone will see us!” “ He gazed toward the upper deck. “No one cares!”

  “My mom and dad would kill me!”

  “They’re already mad. How much worse could it get?”

  “But my dress — ”

  “Okay, your choice. Be back in a minute.”

  He swam away. Butterfly-stroking. Back-paddling. Spitting water high into the air.

  I felt hot and itchy. My dress was stifling.

  What am I afraid of?

  What wasn’t I afraid of?

  Live.

  Go to places you’re not supposed to.

  It doesn’t have to make sense.

  Just do it.

  I thought about going back to the upper deck. To the party. To Mom and Dad. To Grandpa Childers’s sad face.

  I took off my shoes.

  I held tightly to the railing.

  And I pitched myself over.

  Number 209, you can’t get away with this!

  Don’t bother. The channel’s off.

  5

  COLD.

  Freezing cold.

  The water hurt.

  I broke the surface and gasped.

  “You did it!” Colin shouted.

  I tried to answer, but my lips were locked.

  I turned back toward the yacht. I expected Mom or Dad to be watching. Furious.

  But they weren’t there. Just a dozen or so party guests, who were too busy talking to pay attention to us.

  Colin was treading water furiously, fingers pointing upward. “Thirty-seven, thirty-eight — you think — thirty-nine, forty — I can pass a lifeguard test?”

  I lunged toward him, splashing water in his face. “N-n-nope.”

  “Hbbbbb-hey!” he burbled.

  I swam away — crawl, my fastest stroke.

  I could hear him following.

  He grabbed my feet. I went under.

  As I broke the surface, coughing and gasping, I yelled out, “Some lifeguard!”

  He sent a huge plume of water into my face. “Gotcha back!”

  I chased him. He chased me.

  And no one cared.

  Up on board, they were all talking. Stocks and bonds and portfolios and pretty maids all in a row.

  “Boring!” I shouted to them.

  “Landlubbers!” Colin added.

  This was fun.

  Fun.

  We were floating on our backs now, drifting away from the yacht. In the sharp-angled sun, the sky was a wash of colors, from pale amber to deep blue.

  “Still scared?” he asked.

  “No.”

  It was the truth.

  I wanted Mom and Dad to see us.

  I imagined the shock on their faces.

  I imagined waving good-bye and swimming to the horizon. Plunging into the clouds to find my dreamland, my castle —

  Clouds.

  I twisted my body around.

  A wall of white faced me.

  Close.

  Extremely close.

  How — ?

  Colin was backstroking toward the cloud wall, smiling blissfully, eyes closed.

  “COME BACK!” I shouted.

  He didn’t hear me.

  The sound.

  A low hissing. A rumbling.

  “Colin!”

  Don’t yell. Go.

  His head was disappearing into the mist … his shoulders and chest …

  The clouds seemed to be reaching out.

  Billowing toward us.

  I couldn’t see him now. All I saw was

  White.

  A curtain of white.

 
Opening. Expanding. Beckoning.

  Turn around.

  I stopped swimming and looked behind me.

  The yacht was small. Impossibly distant.

  And then, in a rush of wind, it was gone.

  I felt my hair rise up from its roots.

  The sky was washed white.

  All that was behind me and before me — white. I couldn’t even see the water.

  Where is he?

  “COL-I-I-IN!”

  I heard him call my name back.

  I swam toward the sound.

  The water rose up to slap my face. I fought to keep from swallowing it. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

  “Here!”

  To my left.

  I veered blindly.

  A moment later, my arm hit something solid.

  “Rachel! Hold on to me!”

  I grabbed Colin’s arm. Now I could see him. Faintly, like an apparition. He was pulling me forward.

  “You’re going the wrong way!” I cried, pulling against him.

  “No!” he shouted back. “It’s this way!”

  What’s he doing?

  In the blankness, there was no telling direction at all. I tried to swim, holding on to Colin. Coughing up salt water. We hit a cold spot and my right leg seized up.

  “DON’T FIGHT ME, RACHEL!”

  “I HAVE A CRAMP!”

  “WHERE?”

  “RIGHT CALF!”

  He was holding me now. Lifting me higher. Above the water. Turning me horizontal. Massaging my calf.

  I saw him gulping water, floundering.

  Swim.

  Swim now or he’ll drown.

  I flexed my foot. I kicked. My leg was usable again. “I’M OKAY!”

  I took his arm and swam forward, but a wave welled up between us, and he slipped out of my grip.

  “WHERE ARE YOU?” I yelled.

  No answer.

  I looked around frantically.

  There.

  Through a momentary break in the clouds.

  He was swimming.

  In the opposite direction.

  “NO-O-O!”

  My cry was swallowed up in the mist.

  With each breath, water flooded my mouth. Seared my lungs.

  Don’t drown.

  I thrust my arms into the water. Pushing. Keeping my head up. Anything that worked.

  But I was losing.

  Losing oxygen.

  Losing strength.

  Losing the battle.

  I turned my head upward and tried to gulp air.

  And that was when I heard the roar.

  It rose behind me like the sound of a caged beast. Only it wasn’t animal or human.