The Living

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The Living Page 7

by Matt De La Peña


  Her dress was cut low in front, showing an unfair amount of cleavage. It hugged in tight on her waist, then stretched out over her curvy hips. Carmen had to dress up whenever she emceed karaoke nights, but tonight she’d taken it to a whole other level.

  “You’re not allowed to say that,” she told him. “It’s rule number one of our new rules.”

  “Seriously? I can’t say you look nice?” Shy pushed off the wall, feeling frustrated. “You know what, then? Maybe rule number two should be you’re not allowed to dress like that around me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Come on, Carm.” He pointed up and down her sexy dress.

  She rolled her eyes with a slight grin. “How you think I pull in all them tips at karaoke? It’s more than how I announce some fool’s song he’s about to do.”

  Shy shook his head and looked away. If he didn’t change the subject they were gonna end up in some kind of argument. And he didn’t want to argue with Carmen. Not tonight, when he needed to talk to her about his nephew. “Anyways,” he said, motioning toward the oilman’s table. “Kind of weird his girl isn’t here yet. Seems like they’d have shown up together, right?”

  “I bet she’s still in the mirror, trying to do her makeup extra-perfect. Women can sense when something big’s about to happen.”

  Shy nodded, wondering if Carmen had sensed anything last night, before they hooked up. And what would it mean if she had and then leaned in on him anyway? Weren’t actions supposed to speak louder than words?

  He was startled out of his head when the ship emcee came on over the loudspeaker—which never happened at night: “Attention, ladies and gentlemen. As many of you already know, there’s a major storm in the forecast. As a precaution, all outside decks will be closed for the evening.”

  A collective groan passed through the dining room. Shy wondered if this meant he wouldn’t have to work. Maybe he’d be free to keep checking Rodney’s computer for an email from his mom.

  “Tomorrow morning they will be reopened, weather permitting, at their regularly scheduled times. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, but we’d like to assure you that all indoor programming will be running as usual, including the big poker tournament in the Grand Casino. We’ll be issuing free bar tickets to the first fifty passengers who sign up.”

  Soon as the emcee’s voice was gone, the hum of conversation picked back up. A hostess named Toni walked toward Shy and Carmen, looking beyond stressed. “You guys,” she said, “I’m kind of freaking out right now. I’ve never been in a storm.”

  “Same here,” Shy said.

  “You just can’t overthink it,” Carmen said. “Trust me, your mind can build shit up way worse than it really is.”

  “I think it’s already happening,” Toni said.

  “What I don’t understand,” Shy said, “is how these people can eat with the ship swaying like it is.”

  The girls nodded and then Toni held out her arms for Carmen and they hugged. “Love that dress on you,” she said as they separated.

  “She hates people telling her that,” Shy said.

  Carmen shot Shy a dirty look and turned back to Toni. “Thanks, girl. I borrowed it from your roommate.”

  “I know. Meagan stopped by earlier. She also told me the big news. I didn’t know you were getting married.”

  “Brand-new.” Carmen gave Shy a little sideways glance. “Still feels weird to say I have an actual fiancé.”

  Shy took a baby step back, tried to act like he wasn’t listening. Maybe he should feel more guilty about hooking up with someone who was engaged. ’Cause he didn’t feel guilty at all. Not about that part. Maybe it meant he wasn’t a good person.

  “Tell me about it,” Toni said. “I just got engaged, too.”

  “Are you serious?” Carmen said. “Congratulations!”

  Shy watched as they grabbed each other’s elbows and jumped up and down. When the mini-celebration ended, Carmen said: “Where’d he do it?”

  “A steakhouse in Newport Beach. With my parents.”

  “Ah, that’s so respectful.”

  “You?”

  “Brett took me to the boardwalk in Venice. We were walking together, holding hands, watching all the weirdos, and out of nowhere he drops to one knee and takes my hand. I was so shocked I didn’t even give him time to ask. I swiped the ring right out of his hand, shoved it on my finger.”

  Shy felt like gagging. He wondered if he should throw on Shoeshine’s homemade wristband-thing to keep from getting sick. He took another baby step back.

  Toni laughed. “That’s so like you, Carm.”

  “I grabbed Brett’s cell,” Carmen said, “and called Mami. She was like, ‘Oh, mija, it’s so wonderful. My baby’s marrying a lawyer!’ ”

  “There’s a mother who’s got her priorities.”

  “Believe me,” Carmen said. “She was ten times more excited than me. Like it was her lifelong dream coming true.”

  Shy cleared his throat, said: “Is this trip, like, sponsored by Kay Jewelers or some shit? All anybody can talk about is getting married.”

  “Don’t be a hater,” Carmen said, trying to act mad.

  Shy looked into her big brown eyes. Seemed like ten years ago that he’d held her face in his hands, stared into those eyes from only a couple inches away. He wished he could do it again. Right now. In front of everyone.

  Toni was patting Shy on the back, saying: “I’m sure it’s lots of fun hanging out with all your little high school girlfriends. But one day—trust me. You’ll fall in love, too. And you’ll wanna spend the rest of your life with that person.”

  “From what I heard, he might’ve already met her.” Carmen winked at Shy. “Frederick from Denmark told me all about you and some skinny blond chick flirting outside the gym.”

  “Wait, what?” Toni said. “Shy’s moving in on a passenger?”

  Shy was shocked Frederick even knew about that stupid little exchange. “Sounds like you got some bad intel,” he told Carmen. “More like those chicks were capping on me about working at the pool.”

  “That’s how the blanquitas like to flirt, dummy.” Carmen grinned a little and gave Shy a quick shot in the ribs. “You should go for it, dude. Isn’t that every Otay Mesa guy’s wet dream? To land an anorexic blonde?”

  The girls started laughing.

  “Whatever,” Shy said. He was getting a little tired of people laughing at him. Before he could think up some kind of comeback about Carmen and rich law school dudes, the ship emcee came back on over the loudspeaker:

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just learned some unfortunate news. The storm is advancing toward our location more rapidly than we’d originally anticipated. As a precaution, the captain is asking that we evacuate all large dining areas at this time.”

  Everyone in the dining room fell completely silent, staring at each other.

  Shy was suddenly having a hard time getting a deep breath.

  “The smaller cafés and shops will remain open. And staff members will be available for full cabin service. We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, ladies and gentlemen. But I repeat: we must close all large dining areas, effective immediately. Thank you for your cooperation.”

  Shy turned back to Toni and Carmen, whose grins had vanished.

  “I’ve never heard of them clearing the dining rooms before,” Carmen said. “Do you think something could actually happen to the ship?”

  “There’s no way,” Shy assured her. Secretly, though, he was worried about the exact same thing.

  “What am I supposed to do?” Toni said. “Just tell them to leave? This is so scary.” She hurried after another hostess, who was walking out onto the dining room floor.

  Shy watched the buzzing passengers get up from their tables and start moving toward the exits. He spotted the oilman, still sitting in his seat, gripping an empty glass of wine. Now all the seats around him were empty.

  Someone grabbed ahold of Shy’
s arm.

  He was surprised to turn and find Supervisor Franco standing there. “Come with me,” his boss said. “There is much to do before we pass through the eye of this storm.”

  “But they said Lido’s closed, sir.”

  Franco shook his head. “Not for us, it isn’t.”

  Shy turned and found Carmen staring at him.

  It was the first time he’d ever seen fear in her eyes.

  13

  LasoTech

  They moved quickly through the atrium, past packs of well-dressed passengers hurrying back to their cabins, past one of the live orchestras breaking down their instruments, Franco listing all the things that had to be done before the actual storm hit: “…and every deck chair must be put into supply room. Every umbrella. The towel stand and busser stations. All tables and chairs of the café.”

  Shy nodded, trying to concentrate on what he was hearing. But seeing worry on his supervisor’s face made him worry, too. What if the ship was in actual danger?

  “Heavy covers on the pool and Jacuzzi. The main stage must be locked completely. Everything just like in training, you understand. Ariana is in charge.”

  “Yes, sir,” Shy said, trying to remember what they’d gone over during training. He should have listened better. But it never crossed his mind that something might actually happen.

  They moved past Shoeshine, his head down as he worked a man’s shoe with his rag. Shy glanced at the guy sitting in the chair, reading the ship’s daily bulletin, sipping a cocktail. He didn’t seem scared at all. Neither did Shoeshine. Shy tried to decide how scared he was. The ship was huge, seemingly indestructible. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe his grandma had been right to worry.

  Franco stopped a few feet from the Lido Deck door and turned to Shy. “When you are finished here, please, Shy, you must do special task for me. Take down all umbrellas on Honeymoon Deck. Baby trees, too. There can be nothing left outside.”

  “Yes, sir,” Shy answered, remembering this part of training. They’d only practiced clearing the Honeymoon Deck during the emergency phase. Which meant the storm was an emergency. And Shy should be scared.

  Franco keyed open the supply closet near the automatic glass doors, reached in for a yellow slicker. He handed it to Shy, saying: “I’m trusting the Honeymoon Deck only for you because it may be dangerous winds up there. And I know you will be extremely careful.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Shy said, slipping into the slicker.

  Supervisor Franco took Shy by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. “This storm is making you afraid?”

  “A little, sir.” Shy glanced over his supervisor’s shoulder, saw a couple dozen staff members already rushing around the Lido Deck in the rain. Carrying chairs and tables. He spotted Ariana, Franco’s second in command.

  “Believe me,” Franco said. “I have been in worse storms and everything is okay. Okay?”

  Shy nodded, trying to decide if this was something his supervisor was supposed to say or if he genuinely believed it.

  Franco patted Shy on the back, said: “Everything we do is for precaution, you understand. The weather report says it will be sunny again by morning. So only this problem is for tonight.” He forced a smile.

  Shy knew it wasn’t the best timing, but he had to at least bring up what happened to his cabin. “Sir, can I ask you something?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “The reason I stopped by your office earlier—”

  Franco raised a hand to cut Shy off. “Yes, yes, I understand about this, Shy. A man from LasoTech entered your room this afternoon. I’m sorry I did not explain, but we were not expecting weather. Don’t worry, he found nothing.”

  “What’s LasoTech?” Shy asked. “And what were they looking for?”

  “It is a main sponsor for Paradise Cruise Lines. Tomorrow we will talk more, okay? For now we must hurry.”

  Shy stepped up to the glass doors, watched them slide open, then he stepped out into the growing wind and rain. He was surprised Franco knew what had happened in his cabin. Why hadn’t he said anything earlier, when Shy was outside his office? And why would a company go through his and Rodney’s stuff?

  The sky was dark gray. The wind pressed Shy’s slicker against his body. He squinted and made his way to the two closest chairs. He folded up the head and feet, tucked one under each arm, and started for the large storage room. He had to put Franco’s words out of his head. He could worry about it once he got back inside. For now he needed to concentrate on securing the deck.

  14

  Hidden Islands

  Franco was right about the wind near the top of the ship. It was far more powerful. Shy had to lean into it in order to move out onto the Honeymoon Deck. The rain was now falling at an odd angle, pelting him in the face under his slicker hood. He cupped a hand over his eyes and went right up to the railing and peered over the side.

  In the morning the sea had been perfectly calm and beautiful, like a postcard. Now it was a thousand hostile waves crested in white foam and crashing into one another. The massive ship moaned as it pitched and surged under Shy’s shell tops—the bow bucking slowly into the air and then falling, bucking and then falling. Thick black clouds hung so low in the sky it felt like the ship was traveling through a rain tunnel.

  Shy watched it all in awe for several minutes, the world lining up exactly with his insides. He’d never been a true believer like his grandma, but he closed his eyes now and asked whoever might be listening for Miguel to be okay. And his mom and sis. And himself.

  Please, just let me get back to them.

  I have to get back to them.

  Then Shy pushed away from the railing and set about his work.

  Conditions improved slightly as he moved the last of the baby palms back into the supply room. But his stomach was a mess. His legs felt flimsy and unfamiliar. He broke down the first two umbrella poles slowly, feeling so queasy he thought he’d be sick at any second. He dragged them, one in each hand, into the supply room, placed them on the storage racks, then leaned over, hands on knees, and pulled in deep, even breaths.

  In the morning it had been wine.

  Now it was the relentless motion of the sea.

  Shy remembered the wristband Shoeshine had given him and pulled it out of his pocket. He still didn’t think the raggedy-looking thing would do him any good, but he slipped it onto his wrist anyway. Just in case. Forced himself upright again, warm saliva pooling in his mouth.

  As he moved out of the supply room this time, he spotted two people standing near the railing. Long pink and black raincoats provided by the ship. One of the women staring out over the ocean through binoculars.

  “Excuse me,” he called out to them. “The Honeymoon Deck’s closed.”

  The two figures spun around.

  Shy couldn’t see much of their faces under their oversized hoods, but he saw the wet blond hair of one. The green eyes. And he knew it was Addison. Which meant the other one was her friend. He moved toward them, wondering why they’d come out into a storm like this when they didn’t have to.

  “We’re not hurting anyone,” Cassandra said.

  Addison’s eyes looked glassy, like she’d been crying.

  Shy motioned toward the binoculars in her hands, told her: “I’m sorry, but nobody’s supposed to be outside right now. Captain’s orders.”

  “Just back off,” Cassandra snapped at him.

  Addison glared at him, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Shy stared back, pissed off now on top of being queasy. Soon as he got off this stupid ship he was done dealing with rich girls.

  Cassandra rubbed Addison’s arm as they both turned back to the frenzied ocean, ignoring Shy. What was he supposed to do, drag them away? And why the tears? He looked around, saw that they were only a few feet from where he’d tried to keep his grip on the comb-over man. And what would he do if the wind blew one of them over the side? Would he try and play the hero again? Didn’t work out too we
ll the last time.

  Shy swallowed, deciding he had to play it another way. “What are you looking for, anyway?” he asked.

  They ignored him.

  “Maybe I could help.”

  Cassandra turned to him, her face softer now. “Her dad’s out there somewhere,” she said. “He works on one of the Hidden Islands.”

  The Hidden Islands?

  Other than Hawaii, Shy had never heard of any islands out here, in the middle of the Pacific. And Hawaii was still a couple days away.

  The rain picked up again, all three of them pulling their hoods farther over their eyes. Densely packed drops battered their slickers and the deck around their shoes. A sudden gust of wind made the girls hold on to the railing.

  “For real,” Shy said. “You guys gotta go inside. It’s dangerous.”

  Addison spun around and faced Shy. “Why does my dad have a picture of you?” she shouted over the pounding rain.

  “Of me?” Shy said, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Addison lowered her binoculars and cried harder.

  “She found your picture in her dad’s cabin,” Cassandra said, holding Addison. “You’re in a cemetery.”

  Shy just stared back at them in shock.

  It had to be a mistake.

  Thunder pounded so violently overhead all three of them flinched.

  “Come on, Addie,” Cassandra said, leading her away from the railing.

  “Who are you?” Addison barked at Shy as they moved past him. “Tell me who you are!”

  “I’m nobody!” he shouted back. He’d probably get in trouble for snapping at a passenger, but he didn’t even care anymore. The girl was talking crazy.

  “I’m nobody!” he shouted again. “All right?”

  Soon as the girls ducked back inside the ship, out of sight, Shy spun around and leaned over the railing and got sick.

  He heaved several times before spitting and wiping his mouth. Then he just stood there, staring out at the frantic ocean, trying to make sense of what the girls were talking about. A picture of him? In a cemetery? How could Addison’s dad have a picture of him?

 

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