Jess sniffles. “When Amy finally got in the room, she sang for, like, a second, and then they said, ‘Thank you.’ Thank you for what? She said they barely listened to her and didn’t even look up. If this is how they cast movies, forget it.”
Dad drops onto the porch steps, runs a hand back through his hair. “I don’t think you can sum up the entire industry from this one experience, but it sounds like you got a good look at what goes on. And learned a few things. So maybe this wasn’t all bad.”
Jess kind of laughs. “The dumbest thing of all is I kept thinking about The Wizard of Oz, and how being in a play here might not be so boring. At the end, don’t they talk about, like, finding adventure in your own backyard?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“If anything had happened to you”—Mom gulps—“wandering around by yourself in a big crowd like that—”
“But nothing did. Except me ending up feeling like a complete idiot for putting the coins down. And going in the first place. And…” She looks down. “Lying.”
Jess starts to cry. I can’t believe it. There are only a few times I remember her crying—the pie awards ceremony when Isabelle was announced as the winner, the day I left for kindergarten, and when Dad took her “pet” frog back to the lake.
My sister crawls into Mom’s lap, tucks in her legs and curls up, her head on Mom’s shoulder. Mom strokes her hair and murmurs while she rocks the swing. “You’re okay now. You’re home.”
They stay like that for a few minutes; then Dad hands Jess a tissue. She dabs her eyes and blows her nose. “Better?” Dad asks.
Jess nods, her eyes round and big. “Are you going to ground me? Or take away my phone?”
Mom looks over at Dad, then shakes her head. “I don’t think we have to. I think you understand.”
She hiccups. “Good, because I want to comment on their social media pages about how bad this whole thing was. People should know. And, really? A musical about an alien invasion? What are they thinking? That’s so going to flop.”
Dad laughs. “Maybe one day you’ll make your own movie.”
Jess pushes away from Mom and sits up. She narrows her eyes. “Yeah, maybe I will.”
We stay on the porch for a while, the sky turning a deeper blue, until Jess says, “I’m starving! I need pizza, right now!”
Dad cracks up. “We all do.”
Pizza is ordered and eaten, the table is wiped off, the dishwasher is filled. Mom and Dad slowly climb the stairs, saying they’re exhausted. Jess says she’s going up too.
I watch the clock above the fireplace, hanging near the family picture and the old cabin key, slowly ticking toward eight-forty, when I plan to leave.
It’s taking forever.
Finally.
As quietly as possible, I put on my shoes and slip out the front door. A streetlight shines a strong beam on the path ahead. I haven’t even reached the sidewalk when I hear a whisper: “Where are you going?”
Jess is standing on the porch, her face shadowed by the big tree in our front yard.
“I have to do something,” I say. “Go back upstairs.”
“What is it?”
“Just…something.”
“You don’t want to tell me, do you?”
“No, it’s not that.” I pull out my phone to look at the time. Eight-forty-two. “Jess, I really have to go or I’ll be late.”
She stands there, blinking. “Are you going to steal a pie?” She takes a step forward, out of the shadow, into the light, toward me. “Because, you know, I’m really good at stealing pies.”
A smile spreads across my face. She remembers. “You didn’t steal it, I did.”
“But I was your accomplice.”
“You were.”
We look at each other, and the sweet taste of Isabelle’s pink lemonade pie floods into my mouth.
“Get some shoes,” I say. “Fast.”
I scribble a quick note for Mom and Dad—Don’t worry, we’re okay—in case they wake up.
Jess is back out in two seconds; then she’s scurrying to keep up with me on the sidewalk. “So where are we going?” she whispers.
“Alden’s.”
“What!”
“Shhh.”
“Why there?”
“We’re saving the lake.”
“From that algae stuff?”
“Yes. Long story, but I made these floating plant islands today with Mr. Alden and Maya and Henry and Tyler and Zach, and we’re putting them out on the lake tonight.”
“Wait. Back up. You went into Alden’s?”
“I did.”
“And talked to Mr. Alden?”
“Uh-huh.”
She claps a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe it.”
“Neither can I. But I had to. For…”
“For who? You mean, to save the lake?”
“Yes. C’mon.”
I start to run. Jess catches up with me. We jog side by side toward Main, hearing only our breath and the rustling of the trees. We reach Alden’s exactly at nine.
The store is dark, but a single spotlight glimmers on the flamingos in the window, making them look eerie, like they come alive at night when no one’s around. I quietly open the door, and we hurry to the back garden. Mr. Alden’s there, with Zach. They’re examining the plants on the islands.
“Hi,” I whisper, then tip my head toward Jess. “My sister’s coming with us. JessiKa, with a capital K.”
Zach and Mr. Alden nod. Zach says, “Hey.”
She shrugs. “Actually, I’ve thought it over, and I’m going back to Jess. For now.”
“Good,” I say. “I like Jess better.”
Maya appears, out of breath. “Sorry I’m a little late.”
Mr. Alden looks at us. “Ready?”
“Yes,” I answer.
We each take an island, and Zach and I carry two. We walk out of the store in a silent line. Mr. Alden puts his island down to lock the door. Then the five of us cross the empty street together and walk to the end, where it stops at the lake. When we reach the shore, we set the islands down, across from the algae patch.
The sky is completely dark now, with an umbrella of stars and a half-moon partly obscured by a cloud. Maya turns on the flashlight on her phone.
“No lights,” Zach whispers.
“I agree,” Mr. Alden says. “It’s best not to attract attention.”
Maya flips off the light.
“So we just put them in the water?” I say quietly.
“I’ve been reading everything I can find,” Zach replies. “They’re supposed to be anchored, but we don’t have the means to do that. I think it’ll be okay to just set them afloat for now. They should settle in a spot and start working. Hopefully.”
Jess bends toward one of the islands.
“Just a moment.” Mr. Alden reaches into his pocket. He takes out some leaves and hands one to each of us. “Sage. My grandfather grew it. Since he was one of the founders of the town and worked his entire life to protect our land and our lake, I thought we should add a sage leaf to each island for good luck.”
I hold the leaf to my nose, inhale its mysterious mixture of sharp and sweet, then tuck it into one of the islands. “Was your grandfather the one who named Sage Street?”
“He was indeed.”
I smile. Of course he was.
Zach, Maya, Jess, and Mr. Alden add the leaves too. We spread out, as close to the water as possible. One by one, we lean forward and set our islands onto the lake. I give mine a gentle push, sending it on its way.
Moonlight trickles across the seven islands, making them look like miniature, lit-up fairy gardens. A few of them rotate slowly, as the insects hum and the trees crackle. Somewhere, an owl hoots. We stand there watching
for a while, not saying anything.
Maya says finally, “This is a mitzvah.”
“What’s that?” Jess asks.
“Doing something good.”
“Yes,” I say, imagining the roots dangling underwater, gathering up the algae. Invisible. Strong.
Zach sighs. “We’ll see what happens.”
Mr. Alden nods. “As with most things.”
“They look so…small,” Maya says. “How will they possibly get all the algae?”
Jess huffs a little. “Just because something’s small doesn’t mean it can’t do big things.”
I smile at her. She smiles back and reaches for my hand. “I’m tired,” she says.
I wrap my fingers around hers. “Me too.”
Zach says goodbye and walks toward his cabin. Mr. Alden crosses the street and gets into his car. Maya, Jess, and I head home.
When we get there, Maya slips through our yard to hers. Jess pauses on our porch steps. “Annalise.”
I stop, look at her.
“I still want to leave one day, you know.”
“I know.”
I crumple the note I left for Mom and Dad and we tiptoe up the stairs together. At my bedroom door, she digs in her pocket and pulls something out. A dime.
“I found it in the bathroom at the audition,” she whispers. “Ten cents toward what I owe you.” She hands it to me and sneaks into her room.
I go into my room and drop the coin into a crooked ceramic bowl I made in art last year. It lands with a clink. The start of something new.
I heard Renn calling out to me, but I chose to turn my back. I could have helped. I could have carried the woman back in my current. But instead, I chose to carry her away.
The canoe rocked and almost tipped over. She dropped the oar. She clutched the sides of the narrow boat, raised her face to the dark sky and began to cry.
I pushed the canoe toward my eastern bank. At least I did that.
She slipped into my water, grabbed onto the earth and pulled herself up on dry land. She crumpled into a heap and laid there for hours.
The sun rose. Renn told me about the baby. But it was too late. The woman was gone.
I need to apologize. To Renn, for not listening, and for never speaking of that night. To the woman, who was lost. To the girl who was left behind.
It’s time to forgive.
I see the islands they have set afloat. Beautiful, tiny keys of hope, much stronger and more powerful than they appear. They have the ability to heal. To make things right again.
I start by giving them my blessing.
I dream of roots floating in the water, and Renn’s whispers and waves and words. I dream there’s no more algae and our magical islands sail away in the breeze, helped along by the breath of water spirits. Lake mermaids.
A text from Zach jolts me awake: “Trouble. Get to the lake ASAP.”
The sun’s just poking through my window. I roll out of bed, rush into Jess’s room, and shake her shoulder. “Get up. We have to go.”
She rubs her eyes, groans. “What time is it?”
“Seven-fifteen.”
She puts her pillow over her head. “Too early.”
I pull it off. “Zach texted. Something happened at the lake.”
She bolts up. “What?”
“Shhh. I don’t know.”
Mom and Dad’s bedroom door is closed, surprisingly. I quickly get dressed and scribble a note that we left early. Jess and I run to the lake.
Two people from the health department are talking with Zach. Someone must have spotted the floating islands early this morning and called them. I had a feeling this would happen. I just didn’t think it would be this soon.
“Should I text Maya?” Jess asks.
“Yes.” I hand her my phone.
When I reach them, I realize it’s Kim and Keith, from the meeting at the library. “Let me ask you again,” Keith is saying to Zach, “do you have any idea who put these out on the lake?”
Zach shakes his head, swallows, adjusts his glasses. “I don’t live here. I’ve been staying in one of the cabins.”
“These haven’t been approved.” Kim’s rifling through papers attached to a clipboard. “I don’t see anywhere on my notes where these were ordered.”
Keith taps on his phone. “I’m calling Brinkley.”
“Good,” Kim replies. “We need to get to the bottom of this right away.”
He walks a few feet away. “Brinkley? Keith here. We have a situation.”
“Who’s Brinkley?” Jess asks.
Kim’s still flipping through the papers. “Our boss. Head of the department. Maybe I missed an email?”
Zach looks at me over Kim’s shoulder. “What should we do?” he mouths.
I scan the islands, drifting serenely on the algae. I swear I can smell the sage leaves. What would Mr. Alden’s grandfather do?
I clear my throat. “You didn’t miss an email.”
Kim glances up, tilts her head. “Excuse me?”
“It was me. I put the floating islands on the lake.”
Kim lowers her clipboard. “You did?”
I nod. “Yes. Last night.”
Jess folds her arms defiantly across her chest and rises up on her tiptoes. “I also put one out there. So if you’re gonna arrest her, arrest me too.”
“Keith?” Kim calls. “I think we’ve found our culprits.”
Keith says into the phone, “Okay, see you in a bit,” then walks back over to us. Kim points to me and Jess.
“They did it,” she states firmly, as if he should handcuff us on the spot.
“Brinkley’s on his way,” Keith tells her. He shoves his phone into his shorts pocket. “You girls wanna explain?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard of floating plant islands,” I say in a rush. “How their roots soak up the toxins? They’ve worked on other lakes. We—I mean, I—made them and put them out last night.”
He frowns. “Without contacting my office?”
“We did. My dad called, but they said—”
“He didn’t speak to me.”
“I couldn’t just—” My voice trembles and I try to steady it. “I couldn’t just keep waiting for the bloom to go away. Do nothing. This is my lake. It was hurting. It was…dying.”
“It’s our lake,” Jess pipes in.
Zach raises his hand. “Okay, I admit it, Officer. I’m guilty too. I was a part of this.”
Suddenly, Maya’s standing at my side, with Henry and Tyler next to her. “You might as well add me in too,” she says.
“And me!” Henry shouts.
“Don’t forget about me!” Tyler echoes. “I helped! I put the soil in the trays! It was so much more fun than going to the park.”
Keith raises his eyebrows. “You kids didn’t have the authority to do this. I’m not exactly sure how we’re going to handle it. Brinkley’s on his way. He’ll make the call.”
“Brinkley?” Maya asks.
“The man in charge.”
“I look forward to speaking with him,” Jess says, crossing her arms. My sister gives me a sneaky smile.
Kim and Keith walk toward the water, talking to each other quietly. Maya pulls out her phone and starts texting. The boys grab two sticks and begin digging a hole in the dirt. Where are their lightsabers?
Zach edges over to me. “This isn’t good. I’m worried. Is there a way we can get in touch with Mr. Alden?”
My hands are shaking and my heart is filling up, flooding over. They don’t get it. What if they rip out the islands? Then we did all this for nothing.
“It’s too early for the store to be open,” I say. “And I don’t have his number or anything.”
“Right. But maybe we can—”
“
Wait.” I look down. Zach’s wearing red canvas slip-ons. “You got new shoes?”
“While you were at Alden’s yesterday, I went to Castaway and found these. No laces. No knots. Whaddya think?”
I smile. He glances toward his cabin. “My dad came too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He bought a tweed cap. He thinks it makes him look more like a writer.”
“Does it?”
Zach laughs. “Well, he’s on page thirty-two.”
Maya’s still texting, and Jess is standing next to her, looking at her phone too. Are they even worried about what’s going on?
I turn back to Zach. “What do you think is going to happen when Brinkley gets here?”
“I’m not feeling optimistic, to be honest.”
“We have to make them understand.”
He sighs. “Adults don’t usually listen to kids.”
I think of Mr. Alden. “Sometimes they do.”
“I’m crossing my fingers they’ll give us a chance,” Zach says.
I spot a moving blur of pink in the distance, on Main Street, getting closer and closer. The blur comes into focus. Jean from the movie theater is wearing pink shorts, a pink top, and her pink rhinestone glasses, and is marching in our direction. Right behind her is Toni from Castaway.
Maya nudges Jess. “Keep going. Text more people.” Jess’s fingers are flying across her screen, and then my phone too. “I’m on it.”
Within minutes, the shore fills with more people. Mayor Greg, Maya’s parents, Henry and Tyler’s mom, several kids from my class last year, as well as Maya’s and Jess’s classes. Even Isabelle, the pie champion, is here.
“What’s happening?” Zach asks me, shading his eyes and scanning the group.
Hello from Renn Lake Page 13