The Last Boy and Girl in the World

  Even though I wasn’t sure of anything, I knew I could tell Levi everything. Because I was my most me with him. I’d once felt that way about Jesse, but it turns out that was because we were broken in the same way.

  I wanted to talk and I wanted to kiss Levi and I wanted to start completely over and it all was a jumble in my brain that I couldn’t untangle in time.

  Headlights bounced across the wall.

  Levi jerked his head around. “Shit. My dad’s home. You have to hide.”

  “You’re not allowed to have girls over?”

  “No, I’m not allowed to have you over.”

  He opened a nearby door and guided me into a dark room. “I’ll let you know when the coast is clear. Just stay hidden.” He held on to my hand longer than he should have, because he didn’t want to let go.

  It took a minute for my eyes to adjust. And then I saw the big desk and the papers. This was Sheriff Hamrick’s home office.

  I started looking around quietly. For what, I wasn’t sure. On his desk were a mess of papers, and one framed photograph of Levi, Sheriff Hamrick, and Levi’s mother. I stared at it. His mother was beautiful. Tall and graceful. Levi and his father were smiling toward the camera. But Mrs. Hamrick had her head tossed back, her mouth cracked wide open, midlaugh.

  Next to the photo was a half-drunk bottle of gin.

  I turned around and saw a huge poster-size printout tacked on the wall. It was a survey of Aberdeen. All of the houses that would be wiped away. All of them marked with a red X.

  Except for one on Hewitt Road.

  We were it.

  The sheriff walked in the front door, and heard Levi speak to him. Their voices were low and mumbly, but I wasn’t really listening anyway. I was staring at that map.

  At the graveyard.

  It was marked REMOVAL OF HEADSTONES.

  But what about the bodies?

  I wasn’t sure, but I had a feeling that if there was any hope for us, for Aberdeen, for putting my family back together, it was on this map.

  I quickly pulled out the pushpins and rolled up the paper as quietly as I could. Then I snuck out the window.

  39

  * * *

  Monday, May 30

  EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM ALERT: Dam construction is being temporarily halted until further notice, due to dangerous flooding conditions. Stay tuned for further updates.

  * * *

  Rain pounded the windows. We spread out the plans on our kitchen table. Dad rubbed his unshaven face for a few quiet minutes. He was in a chair and I was leaning over his shoulder.

  “I mean, I’m not sure,” I said again. “But every one of our relatives is in that cemetery, Dad. And that goes for most people here. This is going to be a big story, whether or not anyone has signed deals. At the very least, this could buy us some more time. Shift the conversation back to what’s right and what’s wrong.”

  “You did good, Keeley,” Dad said. His hand rested on mine and gave it a squeeze.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket but I ignored it. “So what’s the plan? Should we call that reporter guy? Shawn? I know you think he screwed you over in his last story, but this is too juicy—”

  Dad stood up. “I’m going straight to the governor.”

  “Oh.” I was surprised. It seemed to make more sense to get the story out first, but Dad was already hustling to change into a clean shirt. I didn’t want to slow his inertia. “He’s down at City Hall. I think Mayor Aversano’s there too. And Sheriff Hamrick. They’ve got a whole command center set up.”

  We got into his truck and headed over to City Hall. The streets were practically deserted, but a few residents were still packing up their cars and heading out. My phone buzzed a few more times. I knew they were texts from Levi. I was afraid to open them but I forced myself.

  Where’d you go?

  Are you still here?

  My dad left again. Can you sneak back over?

  There’s something I need to tell you. And I don’t know how much time we have left.

  His last text made me think he still wasn’t aware of what I’d done. We’d be heading into this showdown with the element of surprise in our favor, which was good. But also, Levi would know soon, which made me feel sick. Because we’d had that almost moment. In an alternate universe, his dad would never have come home, I would never have found the paper, and we would have kissed. I steeled myself—this was better. This would save my dad, my family, maybe even the town. If things worked out, then it would all have been worth it.

  We parked right in front of City Hall, blocking a fire hydrant. A few news trucks were lined up across the street. Probably preparing for their nightly live broadcasts. They saw my dad, recognized him, and turned their heads as we raced up the steps.

  A policeman stopped us just past the main doors. He looked very surprised to see us. “Whoa there, Jim. Where do you think you’re going?”

  A few wooden chairs lined the hall. Dad backed away from the officer and took a seat on one, a smug smile on his face. He leaned his cane against the wall. “Tell the governor I need to see him. Now.” He folded his arms.

  Something about that smile made me uneasy. The thing we were holding was proof for sure, but it wasn’t something to gloat about. Especially because of where it had come from and what I’d risked to get it. I wanted to tell Dad to take it down a notch, but I couldn’t with the police officer standing in front of us, looking at Dad like he was crazy. He unclipped the radio clipped to his chest and radioed for Sheriff Hamrick to come out.

  A minute later, the sheriff stepped out from behind a closed door. “What’s this all about, Jim?” He sounded tired. “You know people are busy back there.”

  Dad laughed. He held up the tube of paper. “Look familiar?” Sheriff Hamrick stared, his brow furrowing. “It should. My daughter had the good sense to sneak it out of your house tonight.”

  I saw it hit him. Sheriff Hamrick looked at me with such disappointment and anger, it made the hairs stand up on my arms.

  “That’s stolen property,” Sheriff Hamrick said.

  “This is my golden ticket.”

  I turned to Dad, confused. “Dad . . .”

  With that, Sheriff Hamrick spun on his heel and disappeared into another office farther down the hall.

  “Dad, you shouldn’t instigate them.” My voice felt tight inside my throat.

  “I know what I’m doing, Keeley,” he said, and he leaned forward to see down the hall. “I want you to wait out here.”

  “No. No way.”

  Finally he faced me. “Keeley, listen. You are waiting out here.”

  A door opened down the hall. There, hanging half out of the doorframe, was Governor Ward. His suit was rumpled. “All right. Let’s talk, Mr. Hewitt.”

  Dad stood up. I followed him. He turned and shot me a look. “Dad, I’m coming with you!”

  He opened his mouth to say no, but Governor Ward spoke first. “Let her hear this, Hewitt. She stole the damn thing for you. Shouldn’t she know what’s really going on?”

  Something in Dad’s face shifted. The bravado in him tipped out a little and spilled on the floor. But after hearing that, I was definitely going into that room whether he wanted me to or not. I stepped past him and walked into the office first.

  Mayor Aversano was on an uncomfortable-looking couch. Sheriff Hamrick was standing in the corner of the room, talking intensely on his cell phone. As I walked in, he gave me the meanest look, mumbled something quietly into the phone, and then quickly ended the call.

  Not thirty seconds later, I felt my pocket buzz. And my heart sank all the way down to my toes.

  “I’ll make this quick,” Dad started. “What we have here is proof that you have not made plans to move the bodies in the graveyard. If you double your opening offer, I’ll give up the movement and fade away quietly. If you don’t . . . well, I’m going to walk this right back across the street and let the reporters have a go at it.”

  Dad set a piece of
paper on the desk. It was the adjusters’ offer I had found in our attic, five hundred thousand dollars. I’d thought my mom spoke to them behind Dad’s back. Only he was the one who’d gone.

  But when?

  Why?

  I leaned closer to the table and saw the date. It was Wednesday, May 25. The day after dam construction began.

  Dad had been willing to leave then. But I guess not at that price. He wanted more.

  And now he was practically blackmailing the governor into giving him a million-dollar payout? When he was letting someone like Russell Dixon live in squalor?

  My pocket buzzed again. I felt like I was going to be sick.

  The governor laughed and eased into the chair behind the desk. “Here’s the thing, Hewitt. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of this story. I can say it was a mistake. The graveyard won’t be flooded until the last stage of the project. We have time to do whatever we want. You are the one who is out of time. Out of leverage. All your supporters have made deals. So it’s no longer in our interest to pay you to be quiet. Because no one is listening to you anymore.” Dad was still as stone. “And our opening offer, which I still believe was generous”—he took the paper and crumpled it into a wad—“is null and void.” He spread his palms out on the desk. “I will offer you half of our bid. That’s two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, under the condition that you leave Aberdeen tonight. And that is only because your daughter is standing here with you. I feel for her, and your wife, who clearly didn’t know the game you were trying to play.”

  Dad cleared his throat. “What you’re doing to this town is wrong. You know it and I know it.”

  “More wrong than you manipulating your neighbors to stand by your side to earn yourself a bigger payday?”

  It all started to make sense, especially when I thought back to the fight we’d had outside Mr. Dixon’s house. When Sheriff Hamrick had said to my dad, “Your daughter is helping people.” He knew then that my dad wasn’t doing it for the town. He was doing it for himself.

  Dad was trying to look tough, but I knew by the way he was gripping his cane that he was feeling anything but. “And what if I don’t agree to your offer?”

  The governor shrugged. “I guess you could try waiting out this storm. But you might not have a home to come back to. In that case, we’d be forced to condemn this site and—”

  “Okay. Wait a second here. Just wait one second here, please. I get it. You want to punish me for being a pain in the ass. And maybe that’s what I’m due. So yes. I’ll agree to take a cut. I will. But let’s say three hundred thousand dollars. Remember, I’m losing a home and a business, and from what I understand, those people were given more than—”

  “What business?” Aversano said from the couch. “You haven’t worked in years.”

  Dad turned so he was only facing Governor Ward. I watched his heartbeat in his neck. “Three hundred thousand dollars and I’ll sign whatever I need to sign and you’ll never see me or my family again.” As if to prove it, Dad picked a pen out of the pen cup on the desk and clicked it.

  The governor leaned backward, as far as the chair would go. “Two hundred thousand dollars. You held your cards too long, Jim.”

  The mayor picked some dead leaves out of a potted plant. “We know your wife is gone. You aren’t going to win her back empty-handed. You’re not going to look like the hero then.”

  Dad met my eyes, just briefly. I’d never seen him look sadder, not even in the hospital after his accident. And then, with his head down, he said, “Deal.”

  I couldn’t be in the room any longer. Before I walked out, I walked up to the desk where Governor Ward sat. “But you will do it, right? You will move the bodies?” I looked pleadingly at Sheriff Hamrick.

  “Of course,” Mayor Aversano said from the couch. “Clearly, this was an oversight. Thank you for bringing it to our attention.”

  I stumbled out into the hall. I was covered in sweat, my T-shirt sticking to me.

  With a shaking hand, I checked my phone for the texts Levi had sent to me while we were in the room.

  You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met.

  I will NEVER forgive you for this.

  Tears rolled over my cheeks as I tucked my phone into my back pocket. I heard the main doors open down the hall. There was Levi, coming in from the rain. He peeled off his raincoat and set it down on a chair. The police officer stepped aside and let him into the hallway, no questions asked. Levi ran a few feet before he saw me. But once he did, he skidded to a stop.

  “Levi, I—”

  “Don’t. Don’t even, Keeley. I’m not here for you. I need to talk to my dad. He’s going to kill me.”

  The hallway was narrow and Levi was waiting for me to step out of his way before he’d get any closer. But I started walking toward him instead, trembling. “Please. Let me explain.”

  “There’s nothing to explain. You completely betrayed me.”

  I felt light-headed, and I put a hand out to the wall in case I fainted. It was too hot and too bright. “That’s not what I wanted.”

  He couldn’t have looked less convinced. “If you really cared about me and my feelings, you would have talked to me about what you found instead of stealing it. We could have gone to my dad together and asked him what was happening. Instead you stole from my house and went straight to your dad.”

  “I was trying to do the right thing.”

  He laughed snidely. “The right thing for you, maybe. And your dad. You wanted to win, that’s all. You wanted to win and you felt completely fine with screwing me over to do it.”

  It was not lost on me, even in that moment, the irony. That my father had done the same thing to me, only moments ago. He’d held whatever his true plans were close to his chest. It was just how my mom had said. He wasn’t putting us first. And I hadn’t put Levi first. Both of us had been dishonest with the people we supposedly cared about. And now it was blowing up in our faces.

  “I wanted to force them to do the right thing for your mom and everyone else who’s buried in that cemetery. Yes, of course that would help my dad. But it would help other people too.”

  But instead of understanding me, seeing it from my side, Levi bared his teeth. “I shared stuff with you. Stuff about my mom that I haven’t talked about with anyone. You wouldn’t even have thought about that graveyard if it weren’t for me.”

  “I care about you, Levi. I care about you so much. That’s what I came to your house to tell you today.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back and I knew he was thinking about it, how we’d almost kissed. I wanted to go back to that moment and do everything differently.

  “The worst part is that, if you had asked me, I probably would have told you to go ahead, take the stupid paper.” Hearing Levi say it, I knew it was true. He would have. My breath caught in my chest. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me ever since all this stuff went down. I feel like I earned that from you. The trust. But you cut me out, Keeley. So for the last time, stop pretending like this was for me. It wasn’t.”

  And that’s when I knew there was nothing I could say to Levi that would make it better.

  Because there was nothing my dad could say to me.

  And yet, I still tried.

  “My dad . . . this whole thing wasn’t what I thought. He wasn’t trying to save Aberdeen for the right reasons. Or maybe he was in the beginning, but not anymore. I don’t even know, to be honest. If I had known that, I . . .” At that point, I was sobbing. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I made a mistake, but I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  He shook his head. “It’s doesn’t matter. It’s over. And you’ve actually helped me. I’m glad Aberdeen is going under, because I know for sure I’ll never have to see you again.” He edged past me.

  • • •

  About an hour later, Dad walked out of the office, his face wan. He had a piece of paper in his hand. He didn’t look at me and I didn’t look at him. We got i
nto his truck and were escorted by two police cars back to our house. One of them handed me a purring Freckles. He’d been taken out of the cardboard box and put into a proper kitty kennel with a soft towel, probably by sweet Levi. By then, the rain was coming down harder than hard, the streets were flooded worse than that night we were all brought into the gym. Another officer gave us a handful of cardboard boxes to fill up, but in the time it had taken him to bring them from the trunk of his car up to our house, they’d gone pulpy and were collapsing. But he didn’t seem to care.

  “You’ve got thirty minutes.”

  I didn’t even know what I was shoving in there. I was crying so hard. Dad came into my room to help me, but I screamed at him to get out.

  Thirty minutes later, we got back into Dad’s truck. The police cars followed us again, all the way out to the highway. When we reached the Aberdeen town limits, they slowly peeled away. With Freckles’s kennel on my lap, I turned around in my seat and watched my hometown disappear in a mix of rain and tears.

  “I thought things would work out differently,” Dad said quietly.

  And though I was so mad at him, I had to nod. I had to give him at least that.

  It broke my heart. Because he wasn’t a bad person. Just like I wasn’t a bad person. So how did we both screw up so badly?

  40

  * * *

  Tuesday, October 11

  Sunshine, breezy, high of 45°F

  * * *

  I was five months into my new life when I learned that the dam had been completed. It struck me as slightly anticlimactic, only because water had continued to slide over Aberdeen all throughout construction. You could see it happening from the lookout on the other side of the river, which I visited sometimes. But now that things were finished, it would happen quickly. A complete overtaking. Some said a few days, others predicted a few hours.

  Welcome to Lake Aberdeen.

  Governor Ward planned a huge celebration. There’d be a parade, carnival rides and food trucks, and fireworks at night, and the Ridgewood High School Marching Band would play during the ribbon-cutting ceremony. That was the reason why I heard about it before a single poster or banner went up. Governor Ward’s invitation was the top story of morning announcements.