Girl at Sea

by Maureen Johnson

  They lay inside silently, recovering from the ordeal. A thin layer of seawater rested in the bottom of the raft, just enough to keep them damp and cold. Aidan didn’t seem to care that he was lying in it. The Marguerite stone rested in it comfortably. Clio peered out of the tiny access flap at the white moon hanging over the ocean. She tried to focus on that and not the utter terror of the blackness that spread out in all directions around them. From this angle, the whole world was dark water of unknown depth, with lots of things living in it. It was right below her now, just about a foot. She could reach her hand out of her tiny orange joke of a raft and touch eternity.

  “It’s a really nice view,” Clio said, trying to sound cheerful. “Want to see? The moon is amazingly huge and white over the water. If this was a hotel room, it would cost a fortune.”

  “Not really,” he said. “It’s been about two hours.”

  “Can you tell that from the sky?” she asked.

  “I can tell that from my watch.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  Aidan wasn’t buying the cheerful act. She closed the flap with the zipper and shifted herself farther inside. Aidan reached into a pocket and took out a bottle of water and the seasickness pills. He popped two of them with a careful drink of the water, which he tightly resealed and set carefully back in the pocket.

  Something bumped against the side of the raft.

  “Did you just feel something?” Aidan asked.

  “Let’s not talk about whatever that was.”

  “Okay.”

  “How long do you think we’ll be out here?” she asked.

  “It depends on how soon they realize the boat was stolen. We’re just hitting the time that they were supposed to get in touch. They’ll probably try the coms for a while.”

  “So what do we do?” Clio asked.

  “We don’t do anything,” he answered. “We wait.”

  It was later.

  How much later was unclear. Aidan had taken off his watch and thrown it into the water because they’d become so obsessed with looking at it. It was better not to see the hours tick by. Night on the ocean only gets bigger and darker, the moon looking down from higher and higher. At one point a fish landed in the raft. The screaming that came out of the two of them when this unforeseen event occurred could easily have been heard on the coast of Italy, wherever that was. Clio tossed it back.

  Now they were both lying in the pool of tepid water, arms loosely locked around each other. Either it had warmed from their bodies or they had simply gotten used to it. The waves had gotten a little higher, tossing the orange raft unpleasantly along. Clio had taken one of the seasickness pills as well, but she wasn’t sure if it would really help. All that mattered was resting here, keeping as warm as possible. She could feel Aidan’s breath on the top of her head as she kept her face pressed into the curve of his neck.

  “I spy, with my little eye, something that rhymes with pee,” Clio said.

  “Is it sea?” Aidan answered.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. I spy, with my little eye, something that rhymes with potion.”

  “We should stop,” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said. “You’re right. My bad.”

  Something stirred Clio. It wasn’t a noise or a movement, just a feeling, maybe the subtlest of ripples in the water.

  “Something’s coming,” she said, sitting up and balancing on one hand. The raft wobbled with the sudden movement.

  Aidan sat up instantly. They opened the flap of the raft wider and looked around.

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I just know it’s something.”

  They kept looking until a small red light appeared in the distance. They watched it as it grew bigger and other lights clustered around it, and it finally became a shadow in the dark. An extremely big shadow. A cruise-ship–size shadow, which was headed straight in their direction.

  “It’s like…a cliff,” Aidan said. “A cliff is drifting at us. How do we get out of the way of that?”

  He had a point. The sheer massiveness of the ship made moving in any direction a bad idea. Whichever way they went, the ship would be there too. There was simply no way that the raft could dodge this boat. It filled all directions.

  “I don’t think we do,” Clio said. “I think it either misses us or goes over us.”

  Aidan turned to look at her.

  “Oh, come on,” he said, his voice cracking in despair.

  Clio shrugged. There came a point when certain realities were inescapable, simply too big to spaz out about. A cruise ship bearing down on them was one of those kinds of realities.

  “Come on!” he yelled. “No! This isn’t fair!”

  He reached for the tiny paddle.

  “What do you think?” she asked. “Are we going to make it?”

  “How am I supposed to tell?” he asked.

  “Eyeball it.”

  “Fine,” he said. “Fine. I’ll eyeball the cruise ship.”

  The white menace came closer. They could see individual port windows now, hundreds of them, like the little eyes that flies have.

  “Jesus, that thing is big,” he said. “That’s our boat five hundred times over. Okay. If we go to the right a bit, I think we might make it.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “I have no idea. You’re looking at the same thing I am. What do you think?”

  It was bearing down hard now, getting bigger and bigger. Its massive anchor, easily the size of a Hummer or three, was in clear view.

  “I think…maybe,” she said.

  “Decide!”

  “Right! Right!”

  He paddled frantically. The tented kiddie pool responded by going in a circle.

  It didn’t really matter anyway, because as the ship came closer, it became obvious that they were clear of the side by thirty or forty feet. It was a staggering view, easily thirteen or sixteen stories of sheer white monster boat with a great, hulking bow that sloped out of the water and peaked at about the five-story mark. The lifeboats that dangled from the sides and looked so puny probably weren’t all that much smaller than their boat.

  “Back!” Aidan said. “Scream!”

  They screamed. They flashed the lights. They waved their arms.

  A man in a large, cone-shaped hat was leaning over one of the lower decks, waving at them frantically.

  “He sees us!” Clio said. “He sees us!”

  Except he didn’t. The ship continued on its massive way, spitting out a monster wake that shook them so badly it almost felt like the raft was going to flip. When it was all over, they ended up on opposite sides of the raft, clutching their stomachs, making a concerted effort not to vomit.

  “In case we die…” Clio croaked.

  “Can you not say that?” he answered, just as hoarsely. “This is a life raft. Life being the operative word.”

  “In case we die,” Clio continued, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “What?”

  She crawled over to him carefully, not wanting the world to tip or move any more than necessary.

  “My secret,” she said. “My one true secret.”

  “Please let it be that you have the ability to turn into a helicopter.”

  “No,” she said. “Listen to me. I’m only telling you this because I just saw my life go past. And if you laugh, I’ll make this thing rock again. I’ll take us both down.”

  He pulled his head up from between his legs to look at her.

  “I’m not laughing,” he said. “I don’t think I ever will again. I think I can only barf from now on.”

  “Good,” she said. She reached for a bottle of water, which rolled up next to her, and took a careful sip. He waved away the bottle.

  “You guessed right about my boyfriend,” she blurted. “That I didn’t have one. But I never lied. I never said he was my boyfriend. It was just something that Elsa thought. He might have been if I had stayed.” Cl
io stopped herself for a monent. He might have been. Ollie. She had wanted him all summer. When had that changed? She looked Aidan in the eyes and took a deep breath. “But that’s not my secret.”

  “Okay,” he said. “What is it?”

  “I’ve never been kissed,” Clio said quickly.

  This caused him to raise his head a bit higher.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know why,” she went on, shaking her head. “I think something happened to me. When I was a kid, everything was so…amazing. Seriously. I had this kind of perfect life. My dad and I made the game. Everything worked for us. Everything was exciting. And it blew up in about one day. It all ended. My dad left. Life came crashing down. I just didn’t want anyone near me. I can’t explain it more than that. I had friends. Friends were good. But if a guy even looked at me twice, I would just start being…really mean.”

  “You know,” he said, “I noticed that.”

  “I don’t know why I do it,” she said.

  “Maybe it’s a test,” Aidan said. “To see who can take you.” He was looking at her closely.

  Clio looked up. “To see who can deal with me,” she said. “Do I hate myself that much?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe you’re choosy. Maybe you don’t want to get hurt, so you want to see who’s really worth the risk.”

  “Maybe,” she said, staring into his eyes. She felt the feeling again, like the night she was hurt—that energy radiating from Aidan. That feeling she could barely understand. The warmth that almost felt like champagne, except champagne was nowhere near as fine. Champagne made your head buzz. This made everything buzz. She pushed herself closer, back over to his side.

  “Would you have said something like that if we weren’t in a life raft?” she asked.

  “I doubt it,” he said. “I would have said something meaner but funnier.”

  “Doubtful. You’re not as funny as you—”

  It really didn’t feel like anything that she had ever heard described. She felt it in her mouth, of course. She felt his lips on hers. They were softer than she would have thought. She also felt his hand reaching around into her hair, cradling her head as she fell back. Aidan didn’t taste woody or have berrylike overtones or any of that. He just tasted like Aidan, and it was better than any taste she had ever experienced. A massive rush went over her head. It was like she was both dizzy and as steady as she had ever been. It shook her body too, rocking everything. Everything was shaking. Everything was shaking a lot.

  And there was a voice somewhere deep in her head saying, “Clio! Are you in there? Aidan?”

  “Dad?” she said into Aidan’s lips.

  “Okay,” he said. “Later we’re going to discuss why you should never say that, like, when we’re doing this.”

  He started kissing her again.

  “Did you hear that?”

  Aidan looked dazed, his hair sticking up in its most extraordinary formation yet. The voice came at them again. It wasn’t in her head at all, and it was her father’s. It was coming closer. The raft was shaking a lot now, and a light was penetrating the industrial fabric walls of the raft. They both jumped at the flap and pulled it open, just in time to be nearly blinded by the searchlight coming from the white-and-orange boat that was stopping in front of them.

  The Guardia Costiera officers hauled them up quickly. In a few bright, loud moments, they were standing on a deck being draped in blankets that looked like they were made of tinfoil but were immediately warming. And just another moment after that, Clio’s father was hugging her as he had never hugged her before, pulling her close.

  “How did you find us?” Aidan asked.

  “A cruise ship radioed in,” one of the boat’s officers said. “A passenger saw something in the water. They said he was drunk, but what he described sounded like a raft.”

  “The boat,” Clio managed to say into his chest. “I’m sorry. There was nothing we could do. I don’t know if you insured it or not….”

  “The boat?” Her dad looked shocked. “You think I care about the boat?”

  “Also, it’s a little bit on fire,” she went on.

  “Clio,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “I don’t care what happens to that boat. I couldn’t care less if I tried. I’ve got you. Nothing else matters.”

  Her dad was holding her so tight now, he didn’t even notice when one of the ship’s crew removed the piece of marble from the raft. She leaned into his shoulder and smiled.

  The Truth

  The Guardia Costiera boat sped along the shadowy coastline, a mere ten-minute ride away. They continued up until they reached a small, official-looking port with three other patrol boats docked there.

  They were greeted on the dock by a man who was almost as tall as Ollie, wore sunglasses in the dark, and smiled as if he was being presented with his very own miniature pony instead of a few bedraggled Americans.

  “Now you’ll come this way,” he said, his English thickly flavored by Italian, but pronounced with great precision and pride. “We will have an interview. Yes, all right?”

  They were escorted into a low, long building covered in small plaques and signs. The inside was one stretch of hallway that they squelched down in their saturated shoes. The building wasn’t air-conditioned; it was nicely warm and sticky, and smelled comfortingly of heavily rubberized safety equipment. There were two figures on a bench farther down the hall. One was leaning against the other. As they got closer, Clio could clearly see the blond hair.

  “Elsa?” she said.

  Elsa had clearly been crying. Her face was puffy all over, even around her mouth. She was also, Clio noticed, tucked under the arm of a good-looking Guardia Costiera officer who seemed very content with his night’s assignment. She stood up and stared at them both for a long moment and then embraced each of them, causing their Mylar blankets to crinkle loudly.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t want me dead,” Clio said, trying to sound light.

  “Don’t say that,” Elsa said. “Never say that. No matter what. And especially…”

  “It’s okay, Elsa,” Clio’s dad said, quickly stepping forward.

  “This way,” the officer said. “Interview now. Just you two.”

  Aidan and Clio were ushered into a small room with no windows, filled mostly by a square black table. The officer sat down with a very straight back, removing his hat and placing it on the table in front of him in a studied, exacting manner. His hair was very dark, and cut in short but frizzy curls that sprang up toward the ceiling when they were released. He did not take off the sunglasses.

  “First,” he said, smiling broadly, “we will get for you coffee and pasta. Hot food.”

  He picked up the phone and spoke in machine-gun-fast Italian, then hung up and regained his smile and slow, measured pace.

  “We start at the beginning, all right, yes? And you will tell me how this has happened to you. You tell everything. Nothing is boring to me. And now, I switch on this tape device, in case I miss something.”

  So Clio and Aidan began to recount the story of the robbery, the fire, their escape, and their time in the raft. They were asked to repeat several details over again. Many questions were about the stone as well. They were only interrupted by the arrival of two trays of steaming hot pasta, which they wolfed down as they spoke.

  “Can we have the stone back?” Clio asked as they reached the end of their story. “We risked our lives to get it off that boat. We swam with it.”

  The officer spread his hands and made one of those “these things are hard to say” grimaces.

  “This is a very unusual thing,” he said. “If it came from Pompeii, as you say, maybe one thing will happen. But if it belongs to the British Museum, even so long ago, maybe another thing will happen. Maybe it will go to them.”

  “It’s better than nothing,” Aidan said. “At least they’ll look at it there. They may not take it as seriously as Julia would, but still.”

  “We wi
ll see,” the officer said. “I am sure something will come of this. Now, I must go for a moment. Do you need more food?”

  Aidan nodded vigorously. Clio sucked on her fork in thought and shook her head no. The officer left the room, shutting the door.

  “What did you just say?” Clio asked as Aidan used his fork to scrape up any remnants of sauce from his tin takeout container.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “No. A minute ago. About how Julia would take it more seriously than the British Museum.”

  “That’s what I said, then,” Aidan answered, reaching for Clio’s empty container with his fork.

  “Why isn’t Julia in the hall?” she asked. “Why is Elsa crying so hard?”

  “You’re asking me all this stuff I don’t know. Why?”

  “When we got to town, Julia almost insisted that we all get off the boat and go to dinner. Which is crazy, right?”

  “She was happy,” he said.

  “It’s Julia,” Clio said. “You think she cares if we all get a fancy dinner if it means leaving the boat alone? It’s weird, right?”

  “I guess now that you mention it, yeah. But she’s wanted this stone for a long time. Maybe she was feeling happy and generous for a change.”

  “Right,” Clio said. Pieces were snapping together in her head, making a perfectly clear picture. “She’s wanted it for a long time. So, there’s only two of us on the boat, and we take it out and anchor it, and some guys find us and take us. We couldn’t have been that easy to see from shore. Either someone followed us, or someone knew where we were going.”

  Aidan stopped mid-scrape.

  “What are you saying?” he asked.

  “I’m saying, what if she made a grab for it? Maybe when she went to shore she got some guys to come out to the boat and lift the stone. But instead, when they saw how pimped out the boat was, they decided to take it.”

  “Why would she steal something she already had?” he asked.