Island (2 page)

I turned the other way, hoping to find a friendlier face. Grandpa Childers’s.

But he was still talking to the busboy. So I headed out to the dock.

I took a deep breath and tried to exhale the humiliation. The air was cool for a mid-July day

The cruise skipper, Captain Neil, was heading up the gangplank. “Fifteen minutes until we sail!”

I walked along the wooden dock, away from the crowd. My stiff shoes clonked loudly. I wanted to take them off. Maybe throw them at someone.

The yacht blocked my view of the bay. If you ask me, it looks more like a battleship. It has two levels and two engines and two foghorns. When I passed the bulkhead, Nesconset Bay stretched out before me, vast and deeply blue against the clear sky.

On the horizon, the cloud patch had swelled. It looked like a big head of whipped cream. A few sailboats dotted the bay, lazily tacking against the wind.

My mind sailed out there, too. Away from Mom and Dad and Mr. Havershaw. I felt free.

That was when I saw Grandpa Childers.

He was walking out onto the deck, slowly. Silently.

He’s mad at me, too.

“I — I’m sorry, Grandpa,” I said softly.

He looked at me, but his eyes were a thousand miles away. “Sorry about what?”

“Screaming. About your knife.”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“I didn’t know it was yours. I never saw it before. I just thought you were in trouble — ”

“No trouble. I straightened it all out.”

He was squinting now, out to the horizon.

I gazed in the same direction.

And suddenly I knew.

His strange behavior made perfect sense.

It wasn’t me at all.

The clouds.

They worried him.

They reminded him.

Of course.

Sixty years ago.

The weather must have seemed okay, too, like today — otherwise his granddad wouldn’t have taken the kids on that cruise.

Then …

I leaned over the railing next to him. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

“The thing is, I
did
,” Grandpa Childers replied. “I really did. But I told him no.”

“Told who no? Captain Neil?”

Grandpa Childers suddenly turned to face me. It was as if he’d just noticed me for the first time. “What?” he asked.

“You told Captain Neil you didn’t want to go?”

“I didn’t speak to Captain Neil.”

I clammed up. I’d never seen Grandpa Childers so rattled.

Of course he’s rattled. Mom and Dad are pushing him, too. Forcing him to take this cruise. Not bothering to find out what he wants. And why? So they can impress all their clients. So they can show me off to Mr. Havershaw.

This wasn’t about Grandpa Childers at all. This was about them.

It was
always
about them.

Well, not this time.

Not if I can help it.

“Don’t worry, Grandpa,” I said.

I headed back into the room.

Dad was standing by the buffet table, plate in hand, talking with some bald, flabby guy.

“We have to cancel,” I announced.

“Uh, Rachel — ” Dad began. “I’m in the middle of — ”

“Captain Neil says we’re supposed to leave in fifteen minutes, and Grandpa doesn’t want to go, and it’s his party.”

“Excuse me,” Dad said to his friend. He took my arm and walked me to a secluded corner of the room. “Don’t
ever
do that to me again.”

“To
you
— ?”

“Mr. Havershaw’s not in the business of recruiting troublemakers.”

“You
saw what happened.”

“You overreacted — ”

“Okay,
sorry.
But did you hear what I said, Dad? The clouds — they bring back memories for Grandpa. Of his accident. And he’s not telling you how he feels because he’s too polite — ”

“Rachel, he is my
father
! Don’t you think he’d tell me if something were wrong? Besides, I’m not going to forfeit my deposit and disappoint all my guests, all my business clients who came clear from Boston, to — ”

“Oh. So it’s about money.”

“RACHEL, HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING TO ME? Your grandfather has been looking forward to this for ages. He
deserves
this trip. He doesn’t have much longer to go, you know.”

“I know that — ”

“NO YOU DON’T! YOU haven’t been talking to his doctor!”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Dad looked away suddenly. “Nothing, Rachel. You get me so flustered — ”

Oh my god.

“Is something wrong, Dad? Is Grandpa
dying?”

“No! I mean, not right now! — I mean …” Dad exhaled. “Rachel, your grandfather has a weak heart. It’s congenital. The doctors say he’s lucky to have lived this long, and his signs aren’t good. Okay?”

Okay?

“He’s going to die?”

“No! I mean, yes, eventually, but not right now!”

I’m not hearing this.

“So … you’re ignoring a … a dying man’s wish.”

“Rachel, you’re being dramatic!”

The word.
Dramatic.

The one word they trot out every time I have a feeling. The word that says,
You’re a kid. You don’t know what you’re talking about.

“At least I’m not
selfish
,” I blurted out.

“Excuse me?”

Rachel, no, calm down, you’ve done enough damage
—

“SELFISH,” I yelled. “And cold. And unfeeling—AND I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE MY FATHER!”

I turned and ran. People were staring at me. Again. Wondering where this
disgusting, ungrateful child
came from, but I didn’t care, not a bit, I was running and I didn’t want to stop, I wanted to run right through the wall and keep going for a month, a year, a lifetime, until I ran a hole into the earth and disappeared inside.

I spotted the side door, which led to an alley where the yacht club dumped its trash.

That was where I belonged.

I bolted through the door and burst into tears.

And my heart stopped.

The busboy was there, too.

Contact.

T
HE GATE.
G
O FOR
the gate.

It was behind him. In a high, wooden-stake fence.

I tried to run around him, but he blocked my path.

“Are you all right?” he said.

“Fine. Now, can you get out of my way, please?”

“Yes — I mean, no, I mean — can I apologize?”

“For
what
?”

“For what happened in there. With your grandfather. With the knife?”

“Apology accepted. See you later.”

I moved for the gate again. This time he backed away. “He says you’re exactly like him.”

I stopped. “Who?”

“Your grandfather. He says you’re soul mates. You can read each other’s minds, practically.”

“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.

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.