by Kristy Tate
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Perez drove a beat-up mud-colored Ford double-cab truck to the hospital’s wide glass doors. He left it idling while he jumped out, tossed Lizbet’s suitcase into the truck’s bed, opened the back door for Lizbet and helped Elizabeth into the passenger seat. Lizbet liked him even before he said a word.
By the end of the fourteen-mile drive, she decided that words were not really Perez’s thing. Elizabeth jabbered in Spanish while Perez maneuvered through the city traffic, across the bridges, and onto the small two-lane highway that led to Elizabeth’s home, filling the stout dark man in on all that had happened that day.
Lizbet hugged Tennyson’s basket closer to her chest and tried to hide her fear. She’d never traveled so fast. Leonard’s boat didn’t have nearly the speed of Perez’s truck and besides, there wasn’t anything to hit out on the water. But here on Queen Anne’s busy streets, Perez could hit many things—cars, motorbikes, people.
Occasionally, Perez would send Lizbet questioning glances through the rearview mirror. She met them with a smile and tried to look harmless. She couldn’t blame any of Elizabeth’s friends or family for being suspicious of her. She would be, too.
They rounded a hill and Lizbet’s breath caught in her throat when the ranch came into view. The sun had yet to completely disappear, but the moon, fat and round, hovered on the horizon. Nestled in a valley of vibrant grass and yellow buttercups sat a white farmhouse with blue trim. The meadow disappeared into a ridge of alders sprouting new green leaves and a mountain topped with snow sat in the distance. Not far from the house lay a massive red barn. Chestnut-colored horses in all shapes and sizes meandered in the meadow beyond a white split-rail fence. An unfamiliar wave of recognition swept through Lizbet. She felt like she was coming home, although she knew she’d never been here before.
“Your home is beautiful,” Lizbet told Elizabeth.
Elizabeth sent her a questioning look. “I would like to see your island. I’m very curious as to where my daughter has been and how she’s been living all these years.”
“I’d be happy to take you there,” Lizbet said.
“Mmm... We’ll have to do that. Although, I think I’d like to wait for Daugherty to go with us.”
A lump formed in Lizbet’s throat, and she swallowed around it. “I’d like that, too.”
“In the meantime, you’ll stay here with me.”
“That’s really generous of you,” Lizbet said, but she couldn’t help thinking that there had to be some reason her mother had cut off contact with her family all these years. If her mom had wanted Elizabeth to be a part of Lizbet’s life, she would have introduced them—right? So why hadn’t she?
“I hope that you’ll be able to tell me all about my mom before she came to the island,” Lizbet said.
“It would be my pleasure.”
From her perch on the backseat, Lizbet could do little but study the back of Elizabeth’s head. She wished she could read her. Animals were so good at that. They could draw almost instantaneous character assessments. Sure, she knew they had skills she lacked, smell being one of them, but she wished she had some animal instinct right now. Elizabeth looked harmless. Her smile and warmth seemed genuine. And she shared Lizbet’s name, making Lizbet think that her mom had probably named her after Elizabeth.
And yet, why the secrecy? Why had her mother been hiding on the island?
Perez steered the pickup through a pair of wide whitewashed gates and pulled up in front of the large brick-red barn with white trim. With Tennyson’s basket tucked in her arms, Lizbet climbed from the truck.
Perez already had her suitcase and bag in his hands.
“It’s not much,” Elizabeth said.
But Lizbet heard the pride ringing through Elizabeth’s voice. She followed Perez and Elizabeth up the porch steps and through the front door.
Lizbet sucked in a deep breath. The air inside was cooler than outside and smelled faintly of lavender. She gazed around the room, taking note of the enormous stone fireplace, the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the long stretches of hardwood floors.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Elizabeth said.
Lizbet nodded without saying a word and trailed after Elizabeth and Perez up the wide staircase. Running her fingers up the railing, she wondered if her mom had touched this banister when she was Lizbet’s age. One thing Lizbet had learned from her life on the island and being dependent on the harvest for a living was that things almost always came full circle. A baby is born, the aged die. A seed is planted, nurtured and cared for, but eventually the vine withers, and turns brown and brittle before it goes back into the ground, replenishing the earth, making it even more hospitable for future seeds.
Elizabeth paused at the first bedroom on the right and pushed open the door. Faint, early stars shone through the windows. A large four-poster bed dominated the room. Lizbet fought back the urge to curl onto it.
Perez set down the bags by the door.
“Thank you, Perez,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll meet you in the barn in a moment.”
Perez nodded and after giving Lizbet another curious glance, he turned and left.
Elizabeth patted Lizbet’s arm. “I bet you’re exhausted. Why don’t you settle in while I go and tell Lucy to put an extra plate on the table for dinner?”
Lizbet shook her head. “I’m not hungry.” Her stomach was so tied in worry knots, she didn’t think she could eat.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” At the moment, all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and sleep until her mom woke.
Elizabeth must have read the questions in Lizbet’s eyes. “You’ll meet Lucy’s son, Matías, as well. He’s been hanging around here his entire life. Lucy homeschool her kids. They’re both as smart as whips.” Elizabeth cocked her head. “Are you still in school?”
“I’ve never been to school.”
“Homeschooled?”
“I guess you could call it that...” She’d read a ton of books over the years and her mother had taught her simple math, but there had never been anything formal or structured.
Elizabeth blew out a tiny sigh. “Well, I believe in education, and if you’re my granddaughter you’re going to get one whether you want it or not!”
“Why? What am I going to do with it?”
“What are you going to do without it?”
Lizbet didn’t really know how to answer that question. The island was all she knew. Her mother had told her that the world was full of terror and that staying on the island was the only safe choice.
But Lizbet had always wondered. She loved her mom too much to defy or question her, and, yet, a secret part of her had always longed to see the rest of the world. And now she had her chance...
But she couldn’t just take advantage of Elizabeth. Even if she was her grandmother, it wasn’t right for Lizbet to live at the ranch without paying for something.
Tennyson clearly didn’t share her reservations because he jumped out of his basket and stalked about the room, his nose and tail lifting as he inspected their new home.
“It looks like your kitty likes it here,” Elizabeth said.
“Of course he does. It’s lovely. What’s not to like?”
“There’s a creature nearby,” Tennyson warned.
“Do you have dog?” Lizbet asked Elizabeth.
“No, but Matías has Raphael, a giant Great Pyrenees Mountain dog.” Elizabeth smiled. “I’m sure you’ll love him.”
Tennyson sniffed. “I’m sure I won’t!”
“Although, I’m not so certain about that guy.” Elizabeth nodded at Tennyson.
Lizbet crossed the room, mindful of how her feet sunk into the rich, fat carpet. “It’s so nice of you to let us stay here.”
The lines around Elizabeth’s eyes crinkled and her eyes brightened with unshed tears. “My pleasure.” She cleared her throat, and blinked twice. The tears disappeared. “Lucy serves dinner at five, so we missed that ages ago, but I’m sure she
left us something. If you want to lie down, or look around, I’ll leave that up to you. I need to check on Pricilla, she’s about to foal, but if you’re hungry or if you need anything, you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”
After Elizabeth left, Lizbet wasn’t really sure what to do with herself. She sat down on the bed and Tennyson jumped up beside her.
“Now what?” the cat asked, curling onto her lap.
“I guess we stay here until my mom gets better.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
“Don’t say that. Don’t even think it.”
“What’s this school she talked about?”
Lizbet thought about the books she’d read. Of course things had changed since Jane Eyre went to Lowood Institute, or even since Scout had to be a pork leg in a school play. Curiosity tingled through Lizbet. She wanted to just go and look at a high school. If she could be invisible that would be best, then no one would stare at her, or her clothes, and she could just watch.
“What’s that?” Tennyson flicked his tail at a black box with a glassy surface on the wall.
“I’m not sure.”
Tennyson padded across the bed and over the nightstand. The black box flashed with light. A two-dimensional man sitting behind a desk showed up on the glass. His lips moved as if he were talking, but he didn’t make a sound.
Lizbet was too surprised to scream.
“He’s trapped in there,” Tennyson said.
“I don’t think he can see us.” Lizbet sat down on the bed. “This must be a television. I read about them.” She cocked her head. “Amazing. He looks so real.”
“Is it like a moving photograph?”
“Or a movie. I read about those, too. I think they’re just like this, only bigger.”
“Why did it turn on?”
“I’m not sure,” Lizbet said slowly. She glanced at the nightstand and caught sight of a small black device covered with buttons. It looked a lot like the phone. She picked it up, pressed a button, and girls in bikinis carrying surfboards replaced the man behind the desk. Another button and the screen flicked to a grotesquely disfigured man dressed in rags stumbling down the street while a crowd of teenagers ran away with their arms waving in the air. Another button and a giant purple creature danced around a room with a cluster of children—this, Lizbet decided, was the most terrifying of all. She pushed another button and music flooded the room but the purple monster remained.
“Turn it off!” Tennyson cried.
Lizbet pushed one button after another until the screen faded to black. She plopped onto the bed holding the device between her legs. Tennyson curled up beside her.
“I don’t think I like television,” Tennyson said, twitching his tail.
A pretty dark-haired girl stuck her head around the door. “Was that you watching Blarney?”
“What’s a Blarney?” Lizbet’s gaze shot from the device to the television and back to the device. “I thought I was watching a television.”
The girl’s lips twitched and she stepped into the room. She wore blue jeans and a white lacy shirt, and carried a stack of bright white towels that, by contrast, made her skin a richer brown and her lips a deeper red. “I’m Maria, and that purple dinosaur you just saw is Blarney.”
“I don’t like Blarney.”
“That’s okay. I don’t think anyone does.” Maria put the towels down on the dresser, folded her arms, and studied Lizbet with warm chocolate eyes.
“Why would the parents of those children let them play with him? I mean, I know he’s not real. He must be a man in a costume fooling those children...It’s so wrong.”
Maria laughed and flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Your grandmother sent me to see if you’d like something to eat.”
Lizbet shook her head. The thought of food made her ill. She felt overwhelmed, tired, and worried about her mom and about her own future. It was as if everything in her life would need to be rewritten. Without her mom, without the island, she didn’t know who she was or where she belonged. “I’m okay,” she said, although she absolutely was not.
Maria seemed to know Lizbet was lying, but she didn’t press her. “I heard about your mom, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
“Elizabeth is going to pay me to tutor you in English and social studies. Matías, that’s my brother, is going to help you in math and algebra.”
“Algebra? What’s that?”
Maria laughed again as she turned around to leave. “I know, right? Tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to Lincoln Academy. That’s the homeschool program I graduated from. Your grandmother wants to know where you are academically. I’ll be by around eight.”
Maria said goodbye, leaving Lizbet feeling more alone than ever been before. She settled down on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling, wondering about the strange turn of events that had brought her to this place.
A gentle rapping shook the door. Lizbet bounced off the bed to open it. She found a red-eyed Elizabeth standing in the hall with an armful of photo albums.
“I wanted to show you these. I want to introduce you to the Daugherty Westmoor that I knew and loved.”
#
The next morning, Lizbet sat at the breakfast table with Elizabeth. Putting down her spoon, and gazing at the empty cereal bowl, she said, “I think I’m in love with Captain Crunchies.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I do believe he’s closer to my age than yours, and if so, I get first dibs!”
“Does my mother know about him?”
“Of course. She ate Captain Crunchies every morning for years.”
“How could she have possibly stayed away?”
Pain flashed across Elizabeth’s expression, and Lizbet immediately regretted her thoughtless words. Before the silence could grow anymore awkward, a knock sounded on the Dutch door. Maria and a dark-haired boy who was clearly her brother stood on the other side of the glass.
Elizabeth pushed away from the table to let them in.
“Elizabeth,” Lizbet said, afraid that her time to speak up was about to run out, “it’s really kind of you to let me stay here, but—”
Elizabeth pinned her with a steady gaze. “There are no buts! You are my granddaughter. I’ve been denied you and your mother’s company for nearly twenty years. Please say you’ll stay!”
“Yes, but...I have to earn my keep!”
“We can talk about that later. Today, my friends are going to introduce you to their online school, and in a few hours, we’ll go and visit your mom. We can talk about the conditions of your stay on our drive to Queen Anne. Deal?”
Lizbet tried to make her smile look bright with gratitude, but it felt strained. “Is this school expensive?”
“Hush!” Elizabeth made a zipping motion in front of her lips “I dislike money talk.”
“Yes, but—”
“No more buts,” Elizabeth said, turning her back on Lizbet so she could throw open the door.
Maria and Matías walked in. Maria was tall, but Matías was taller. Broad, brown-eyed, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel. Lizbet immediately knew she was going to enjoy her studies.
“This is my doofus brother.” Maria nodded at the hulk standing beside her. “Keep in mind that even though he acts like a know-it-all, I’m actually ten months older. That’s important.”
Matías responded by shouldering his sister and sending her bouncing against the doorframe.
“Hey!” Maria pushed him back but he didn’t even move.
Lizbet grinned, liking Matías immediately.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"We know from the truths of evolution and ecology that we are all related and interdependent. Anthropomorphism (crediting animals with human emotions and traits) is, however, outdated. Rather we know that we are like animals."
Michael W. Fox
From Declan’s Research
The problem with Baxter was his size. It made him lazy, but it also made Declan mad. It had been much mo
re fun to shoot hoops with Baxter when he didn’t have arms and legs like strings of spaghetti. In the last three years, Baxter had sprouted into a monster on the basketball court and an anomaly everywhere else. At the moment, he planted himself under the basketball hoop attached to his garage, snagged the ball from Declan, and casually tossed it in. Declan darted for the rebound and sprinted out of Baxter’s considerable wingspan.
“So, you going to Nicole’s party tonight?” Baxter asked.
Declan used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He would have used his shirt, but he’d discarded it about three baskets ago. Baxter, he noticed, hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“Yeah. Are you?”
Baxter nodded. “Gina and Nicole are tight.”
Declan knew this because his goal was to know everything about Nicole. He tried to look casual as he dribbled the ball forward and back.
“You bringing a digit?” Baxter barely shuffled his feet as Declan bounced around the sports court.
“I thought I’d go single digit,” he said, trying not to sound winded.
“Bad move, bud.”
Declan caught the ball and held it at his side. “Why do you say that?”
“You like her, right?”
Declan didn’t respond and resumed dribbling.
“Chicks like to think they’re catching a prize. You got to make them think they’re scoring.”
It was one thing for Baxter to outplay him on the basketball court—it was another for him to hand out lady-tips. With a burst of speed, Declan plowed into Baxter’s sizeable hulk to sink a layup.
“Good one,” Baxter said, sounding insultingly surprised.
Declan grunted as Baxter took possession of the ball. “Especially Nicole,” Baxter said.
“What does that mean?” Declan tried not to wheeze as he bumped into Baxter.
“Man—if you did that in a game, you’d be benched,” Baxter complained.