Chapter 27
CHAPTER
CHARLEY
I looked down in disgust.
What should’ve been soap looked like curdled milk. Not exactly what anyone would want to rub all over their body, especially me.
“Nice try,” Macy said encouragingly. “Just takes practice.”
“I don’t know,” I said, watching Macy unwrap her bark mold to reveal a perfect square. “I’m not sure soap’s my thing.”
I didn’t know what my thing was, but I was determined to figure it out, and soon. I was working on something—something unique—but at this point, it was still rough.
As I rinsed my hands, I thought about Jillian stripping paper trees and Heesham beating the pulp to make cloth.
I thought about Macy’s perfect soap molds and Julio’s mouthwatering bread.
I thought about the teams collecting firewood, harvesting yams, picking redfruit, or wrapping fish.
I thought about Li making delicate leis of flowers that began dying as soon as they were picked, but most of all, I thought about Thad.
We’d barely spoken since the day Rory died.
Thad was everywhere, and yet, missing. Behind the scenes, in plain sight, Thad had been working almost feverishly—discussing island medicine, repairing gliders, plotting Search team makeups and patterns, and organizing food: plantings, harvests, fishing, and who knew what else.
Talking to everyone and anyone. He was both present and distant, even with me.
Especially with me.
Or maybe it was just that I always noticed where he was.
Sometimes I felt his eyes on me, even when he was with someone else, but before we could talk, he’d vanish.
Once I’d caught him openly staring, looking like he was about to say something—and yet he hadn’t.
Twice I’d woken early and seen him sprinting alone on the beach, pushing himself like he was training for the Olympics. I didn’t join him.
I ran by myself.
And explored by myself.
And worked on my secret project by myself.
Good times, I thought miserably.
At that moment, I realized I was lousy company. My mom would be horrified at my lack of Southern graciousness.
“So, how long do Search teams stay out?” I winced at my puny effort.
“Usually a week,” Macy said. “Sometimes less, sometimes more. Natalie’s should be back any day. Same for Li’s.”
I nodded.
“Hey.” Macy grinned. “Cheer up, girl. It gets better.”
“Thanks.” I returned her smile, not sure exactly what was going to get better, or how. “What do you miss the most? About home?”
“You mean besides a decent razor and a DQ dip cone?” Macy laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” She smiled, a real smile, unlike my forced one.
“I miss my family, and I miss my church. I miss all kinds of little stuff. But right now I’m missing football season.
I’m a majorette, and football season is the best part of the year.
And I’m missing it.” Macy squeezed my hand.
“You’ll make it, Charley. You still look like you need to eat, but you’ll make it.
” She chuckled. “I believe everything happens for a reason. I believe I’m supposed to be here, and I believe I’ll get back home. Same for you. Same for all of us.”
I decided against bringing up Rory. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Thanks,” I said. “For the lesson, and the pep talk.”
“Anytime.” Macy smiled. Serenity surrounded her like a bubble. As we carried our sandsoap back to the Shack, the walk was peaceful, like I’d finally taken a deep breath, long overdue.
After leaving Macy, I ran into Jillian and Talla. One look from Talla and my Macy-bubble burst on sight.
“We’re going running,” Talla offered. “Want to come?”
“Thanks, but I already went.”
“So go again,” she said. “We’ll take it easy on you.”
Talla grinned, but it was her same competitive grin that grated on my last nerve.
Whenever I ran with her, I had the perverse urge to beat her and found myself pushing my legs past their limits and getting annoyed when I lost. On the flip side, my victories didn’t make her too happy either.
I’d developed a grudging respect for her, but I wasn’t up for Talla right now.
It was because of Talla that for the past week, I’d chosen to run alone.
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
“Okay, we’ll catch you tomorrow.” Talla took one step, then spun back. She stood ramrod straight. “Charley, you’re not good. And neither is Thad. You two need to work out whatever is not going on between you two, because it’s getting to the rest of us.”
“Talla—” Jillian started, her tone warning.
“No,” Talla snapped. “I’m sick of it. It’s not just about them. And she needs to hear it.” Talla shot me a look that would’ve frozen Hell. “Work it out, Charley. One way or another.”
Then she strode away.
I felt like a child being reprimanded, and I was furious.
Determined to steer clear of Talla, I took the shortcut to the rocks where Thad first showed me the green flash nearly two weeks ago.
Thankfully, the spot was deserted. Grateful to be alone, I climbed out onto the largest rock, thoroughly frustrated by both Thad and Talla—one distant, one bitter, neither of which I understood.
What did Talla mean, It’s not just about them?
I wish I could ask Em.
And just like that, my fury fizzled.
I missed Em. I missed home. I missed my life—and I was missing it. I was just another Nil visitor, living a surreal time-out from life, losing time I couldn’t get back. If I even got back at all.
“Charley.” Bart’s nasal voice jarred me from my private pity party. Skin sloughing off his shoulders fluttered in the breeze, and I couldn’t help leaning away. “Want some company?”
Hell, no. “No, thanks. Just having some quiet time.”
“Suit yourself.” Today Bart had a bandana tied around his head, like how Rives wore his.
Only on Bart it somehow looked like he was playing dress-up, and it looked ridiculous.
“If you change your mind, we’re about to play island ball.
” He pounded his hairy chest like a pale, peeling gorilla. “It’s hard-core, but mixes things up.”
“Thanks.” With a smile to counter my rudeness, I turned away. Bart always left me with the feeling I needed to take a bath, even if I’d just stepped out of the Cove.
The Cove. Beautiful water as clear as glass, cascading into a black rock pool as cold as ice.
Trees with deep green leaves the color of lush magnolias, kissing an Easter egg blue sky, lime green moss clinging to life on damp charcoal rock that will never burn—unless I happen to be standing on it when a shimmer rolls through.
The Cove was a perfect snapshot of Nil’s beauty.
Beauty so intoxicating that if I weren’t careful, I could forget the danger.
But the danger was there. Always lurking, and very real.
I closed my eyes, and like it did constantly, my mind wandered to the Man in the Maze.
I’d visited the carving earlier this week.
No sign of the hyena or anything else dangerous, although I’d startled a camel and managed to freak myself out, and probably the camel, too.
But during my latest visit, I’d made a discovery: the number twelve carved at the top, centered directly over the maze.
I’d missed the number my first time around, probably because it was packed with dirt.
I had no idea what the twelve signified, or, for that matter, the maze itself.
Despite my heavy scrutiny, the Man in the Maze had refused to give up his secrets.
And no one else was as obsessed by the carving as me.
I returned to my List of All That I Was Missing.
My senior year, although all I really missed was volleyball. I wondered how the team was faring without me and whether my scholarship hopes were already sunk. I missed playing, but I didn’t miss homework or school without Jen.
Instead of sitting in calculus, I sat by the sea, with nowhere to be.
And nowhere to go.
Bart was gone, leaving me alone.
As in all by myself.
My mind ping-ponged between the good and the bad, and I fought to keep the volley alive. I wasn’t sure settling on one side of the Nil net was a good thing.
Ping-Pong. Since Em had left for college, I’d played with my dad. The last time I’d seen him, he was tossing me the keys to his first brand-new car ever, trying to cheer me up. My throat constricted at the memory. Did I even tell Dad good-bye?
“Charley.” Thad’s voice startled me.
“Hey,” I said, turning. He stood behind the rock, looking cover-model gorgeous—until I got to his eyes. They looked haunted.
“You okay?” he asked.
Are you? I thought, watching his ghosts dull the blue.
But I didn’t ask. I might have a few days ago, but not now.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Just thinking.”
“About what?” he asked, climbing up to sit beside me. The rock shrank under us.
“About home. It feels far away, which is crazy.” I paused, twisting my hair into a roll, determined not to gnaw on my lip. “I can’t even remember what the last thing I said to my dad was. Something about his new car. Something stupid.”
Thad didn’t answer right away.
“I got in a fight with my dad. I wish I didn’t remember the last thing I said.”
“Whatever it was, I’m sure he knew you didn’t mean it.”
“Oh, I meant it. I just wish it wasn’t the last thing I said.”
I tilted my head at Thad. “Then it’s a good thing you’ll catch a gate soon so you can finish the conversation.”
Thad raised an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because if anyone will catch a gate, it’s you. Something tells me you get Nil better than anyone. And when your time comes, you’ll make it.” I shrugged. “Just a feeling.”
Thad chuckled. “I like your feelings, Charley with an e-y.”
For an instant, his eyes were light, the way I remembered them, but then a veil fell and the ghosts were back. “But I don’t think it’s up to me, not really,” he said. “I think Nil has her own agenda.”
“Wow,” I said. “That sounded all deep and dark.”
“Dark.” He half smiled. “You nailed it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Thad didn’t answer.