Mrs. Wakefield walked over to the kitchen counter, but not before Elizabeth saw a tear running down her face. Ned Wakefield stood up and followed his wife. Putting both arms around her, he wrapped her in a tight hug.
Elizabeth's throat ached as she fought back tears of her own. She had already done enough crying that day, and she was determined to keep an optimistic attitude. But with Jessica's absence staring her in the face, it was becoming harder and harder.
After Elizabeth and the rest of the group on the ill-fated field trip had been picked up by the Coast Guard, the ride back to shore had been swift. But there had been just enough time for the story of the missing Sweet Valley High students to get out to the press. Reporters from three newspapers and two local TV stations had been waiting on the pier when the boat pulled up. Elizabeth had rushed right by them, ignoring the questions that were tossed at her and her classmates. "How well do you know the missing boy and girl?" "What kind of kids are they?" "Do you have any evidence that they're still alive?" In a dull trance Elizabeth had called her parents from a pay phone at the marina while Mr. Russo phoned the Egberts.
Now, as Elizabeth watched her mom and dad trying to cheer and comfort each other, she thought she had never seen them look so upset, so sad, so old, somehow.
Ned Wakefield, a senior partner for a law firm in Sweet Valley, was tall, dark-haired, and handsome. Alice Wakefield, who managed her own interior design business, was slim and blond like her daughters. They were both active, youthful people. In fact, Mrs. Wakefield was often mistaken for the twins' older sister. But tonight their faces were lined with worry, and Mr. Wakefield wasn't holding his broad shoulders as straight as usual.
A long moment of silence fell over the group. To Elizabeth silence was even worse than the tense questions everyone had been asking her about what happened during the storm. She had to say something, just to keep herself from thinking.
Cara seemed to feel the same way. "If I know Jessica," Cara began, her dark brown eyes twinkling despite the seriousness of the situation, "she's probably hitched a ride on a passing cruise ship! I bet she's on her way home right now, lounging on the deck while the waiters bring her frosty fruit drinks."
Steven laughed uneasily. "You're right, Cara. Jessica knows how to take care of herself. Maybe it's Winston we should be worried about! Jess has probably divided the lifeboat in half—and we know whose side'll be bigger."
Elizabeth giggled. "I can just see it—Jessica reclining in the lifeboat like Cleopatra on her barge while Winston does all the rowing!"
"Whoa, there. Wait a minute!" Jeffrey held up a hand. "I'm casting my vote for Winston as king of the lifeboat. He can hold his own with Jessica any day. He'll be telling bad jokes left and right and boring her to tears with his crummy celebrity impressions!"
"He was driving her crazy today during the field trip," Elizabeth confirmed. "He seemed to think that because they were paired in the buddy system, they were best friends. He wouldn't leave her alone for a minute!"
Her parents returned to the table. Ned Wakefield set down a tray loaded with mugs and a steaming pot of coffee, and Alice Wakefield brought over a plate of homemade lemon squares. Everyone helped themselves, and for the first time that evening the atmosphere was somewhat relaxed. Joking about Jessica and Winston's likely battles for lifeboat supremacy had loosened them up. They fell into separate casual conversations. Cara asked about Steven's college friends, Mr. and Mrs. Wakefield discussed the problems with the filter system in the swimming pool, and Elizabeth and Jeffrey compared their latest assignments for The Oracle.
Then the telephone rang. Elizabeth jumped out of her chair and grabbed the wall-mounted phone in the kitchen before the second ring.
"Hello?" she said breathlessly. It just had to be the Coast Guard, calling to say they had decided to search a little longer that night and had found Jessica and Winston!
"Elizabeth? This is Lila."
Elizabeth slumped against the refrigerator, crushed with disappointment. "Hi, Lila," she said, shaking her head at her family, Cara, and Jeffrey.
"Is there any news?" Lila's voice was high and shaky. "I've been so upset!"
"No, Lila," Elizabeth informed her gently. "No news. The Coast Guard had to stop looking when it got dark. We're hoping they'll have more luck in the morning."
Lila sniffled on the other end. "I feel just terrible," she wailed.
"Me, too." Elizabeth wished Lila hadn't reminded her just how terrible.
"What if I never see Jessica again?" Lila asked, on the verge of hysteria again. "I've been mean to her so many times. I'll never have a chance to tell her I'm sorry!"
Elizabeth was sympathetic—Lila was Jessica's best friend, after all—but at the same time she didn't exactly feel like listening to a confession of all the catty things Lila had said and done to Jessica over the years. "Look, Lila, there's no need to feel badly," Elizabeth hurried to reassure her. "I know you and Jess have had your differences, but—"
Lila cut her off in midsentence. "All the times I've made her feel inferior because she can't afford as many expensive clothes as I can and she doesn't have her own car or as much jewelry. And all the times we've fought over boys!"
Elizabeth fought the urge to hang up on Lila, who had begun sniffling even more loudly. "Lila, I promise I'll call you as soon as we hear anything," she said patiently. "Jessica wouldn't want you to be so upset. I'm sure she's stolen as many boys away from you as you've stolen from her."
That seemed to comfort Lila somewhat. "Thanks, Liz," she said, sounding more composed. "And tell your parents I hope . . . well, you know."
"I will. Bye, Lila."
Shaking her head, Elizabeth rejoined the others. Cara smiled with understanding. Lila was one of her closest friends as well. "I can imagine what Lila was babbling about." Cara tipped her head to one side, her long dark hair falling over her shoulder. "She couldn't just be unselfishly concerned about Jessica. She's probably feeling guilty, too, right?"
"Right!"
Cara laughed. "Well, underneath all that self-interest I know Lila really does care. Those two have been through a lot together."
"And they'll go through a lot more together," Steven predicted optimistically.
Everyone managed to drink some coffee and eat a few of the lemon squares. Then, at the same moment, Jeffrey and Cara both looked at the kitchen clock and got to their feet.
"I should be going, Liz," Jeffrey said. "I still have to read a couple of chapters for history before my quiz tomorrow."
"I'll drive you home," Steven told Cara, standing up.
Jeffrey shook hands silently with Mr. Wakefield while Cara gave Mrs. Wakefield a quick hug. Good-nights were exchanged, and then Elizabeth walked Jeffrey to the front door.
"I wish you could stay," she said wistfully. Elizabeth knew her parents would go to bed soon, and Steven would probably linger awhile at Cara's. She didn't want to be alone.
"So do I," Jeffrey told her. "Here, let's sit out front for a few more minutes. I'm not in that much of a hurry."
They closed the front door behind them and sat down side by side on the steps. The night was balmy. A soft breeze carried the scent of flowers and damp earth. A full moon was obscured by small, ragged clouds moving slowly across the sky.
Jeffrey put an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders and pulled her close. She felt his lips move against her hair, and the tender gesture caused tears to fill her eyes.
"I hate to leave you," Jeffrey whispered. "Will you be all right?"
"I-I guess." Elizabeth sighed. "I might as well go to bed, although I have a feeling I'm not going to sleep much tonight."
"Everything's going to turn out fine," Jeffrey promised. "Jessica knows how to handle boats and water. She'll make it. I know it, Liz."
With all her heart, Elizabeth wanted to believe Jeffrey. But she couldn't clear her mind of one persistent, devastating image. No matter how hard she tried to shake it, it kept coming back to her: Winston standing up in the lifeb
oat with the extra oar in his hand, leaning too far forward . . . the boat tipping wildly, then capsizing . . . Winston and Jessica hurling into the raging surf . . .
"I just feel as if I should have been able to stop it from happening," she said, thinking out loud.
"Stop what from happening?" Jeffrey asked, looking into her eyes.
"The accident," Elizabeth explained. "If Aaron hadn't forgotten the second oar, we wouldn't have needed the extra one Winston had taken. If Mr. Russo hadn't made us use the buddy system, I would have been in Winston's lifeboat instead of Jessica. Winston and I were together when the charter boat started to sink." Elizabeth's voice dropped to a choked whisper. "It's my fault Jessica's lost at sea!"
"Stop that, Liz!" Jeffrey ordered her sternly. "You know that's not true." He put a hand under her chin and looked down at her with a teasing smile. "It sounds like you let some of Lila's guilty feelings rub off on you."
Elizabeth smiled back, very weakly. "Maybe. But, Jeffrey—"
"No buts about it," he interrupted her. "You and everyone else on the trip did everything possible. Now it's out of your hands. The Coast Guard people know what they're doing. They'll find her."
They sat for a few more minutes in silence, and then Jeffrey stood up, pulling Elizabeth to her feet with him. He wrapped his arms around her and put his mouth on hers for a long, warm kiss. While Jeffrey was holding her, Elizabeth felt safe. There couldn't really be anything wrong with the world when they were together, she thought.
But then Jeffrey stepped away from her, and suddenly, despite the warmth of the night air, Elizabeth shivered.
"Will I see you in school tomorrow?" Jeffrey asked.
Elizabeth nodded. "My parents said I could stay home with them to wait for news, but I have a history quiz I have to take, too. Plus I still haven't finished my column for the next issue of the paper."
"I'll meet you at your locker before first period, then."
"OK. Good night, Jeffrey. Thanks for staying with me—for being here. You know."
"Anytime. Good night, Liz."
Jeffrey brushed Elizabeth's lips with one more gentle kiss, and then she watched him stride down the front walk toward his car. Before he pulled away from the curb, he rolled down the window and waved. She waved back, then opened the door and stepped into the front hallway.
The house was quiet—too quiet. Usually at ten o'clock Jessica would just be hitting her stride. While Elizabeth worked on homework at the table in her own bedroom, Jessica would be blasting the stereo in hers, at the same time talking loudly on the phone to Lila, Cara, or Amy. Elizabeth would ask her sister to turn the music down, and Jessica would do it, but then she would forget five minutes later when her favorite song came on the radio. The stereo would blast again, and this time the music would be accompanied by tapping feet as Jessica gave in to the rhythm and danced around the bedroom, pulling the phone by its cord along with her.
Elizabeth went into the living room and said good night to her parents, giving each of them an especially long hug. Then she slowly climbed the stairs. Upstairs, Elizabeth found herself pausing in front of Jessica's door.
She put her hand around the doorsill and felt for the light switch on the wall. Elizabeth turned on the overhead light and looked around her sister's room. On the spur of the moment a few years ago, Jessica had painted the walls of her bedroom a dark chocolate brown. Known by the rest of the family as "The Hershey Bar," the room was a stark contrast to Elizabeth's, which was painted a creamy off-white. And that wasn't the only difference. Jessica's room was a permanent disaster area. Pyramids of discarded clothing completely covered the carpeting, and her bed looked as if it hadn't been made in a month. The plants by her window desperately needed watering. Even the posters on her walls were falling off.
Elizabeth smiled. Jessica's personality was all over the room. Elizabeth might tease her sister about living in such a mess, but she wouldn't have seen the room any cleaner for the world.
Then Elizabeth's smile dissolved as tears threatened once again. What if her twin was really gone and this room was all she had left of Jessica?
Six
Still half asleep, Jessica lazily stretched her arms over her head and yawned. I must have overslept, she thought, feeling the warmth of bright sunlight on her eyelids. Why didn't Mom or Liz wake me up? Isn't it a school day? I'm going to miss first period!
Then Jessica felt sand underneath her. Had she fallen asleep at the beach? She forced her eyes open and blinked a few times.
She had to shield her eyes with one hand. The morning sun was incredibly bright, even for Sweet Valley. As she took in the scene around her—the waves lapping against the white sand beach, the palm tree overhead, the endless ocean, and the empty horizon—suddenly the events of the day before came back to her in a rush. She had been shipwrecked!
Curious, she sat up and looked around. It was hard to believe that the ocean had ever been rough and gray and angry. There were still a few scattered clouds, but the sky was a clear sapphire blue, its brilliant color mirrored in the smooth sea below. There were birds singing, and the fronds of the palm trees rustled in the breeze.
"This place isn't half bad!" Jessica said out loud, rubbing the sore muscles in her upper arms. "This could be kind of fun. I'm a castaway, like on Gilligan's Island!" Then Jessica recalled that Gilligan and his pals had been stranded on their particular island for years. Well, that couldn't happen to her. She wasn't that far from civilization, or was she?
Jessica stood up and stretched, then touched her toes. Her legs were stiff. The long, hard swim the previous day had really taken its toll. She felt as if she had recently completed a triathalon. To top it all off, she was absolutely starving. She was used to a big breakfast, Wakefield style: bacon and eggs, or cereal and fruit, or pancakes swimming in maple syrup. . . .
I'll just have to find something to eat, Jessica decided matter-of-factly. She headed away from the water, toward the dense forest of palm trees and bushes. Beyond the palms Jessica could see a tangled area of bushes and fruit trees, some with berries and some with small greenish oranges. Jessica's mouth watered. At this point she didn't care what she ate, as long as it wasn't poisonous.
Jessica grimaced as she picked her way gingerly over the trunk of a fallen palm tree and into the undergrowth. The ground was prickly beneath her bare feet—she had lost her sandals when she fell overboard. The gauze shirt she had worn as a cover-up was torn in a dozen places, offering no protection whatsoever against the branches scratching her arms and neck.
A rainbow-colored bird squawked somewhere near her left ear, and Jessica jumped. She scowled at the bird and then hesitated, confused. It was as if she had suddenly entered a tropical jungle. The plants and trees were lush and thick, forming a canopy over her head that blocked out much of the sunlight. Birds chirped at her from all sides and there was a constant buzz of insect noises.
Goosebumps rapidly dotted Jessica's skin. She had no idea where she was. The island seemed deserted, but maybe she wasn't the only person on it. There could be headhunters, an undiscovered tribe of wild people who had been hidden away from the world for hundreds of years. When they found her, maybe they would think she was a supernatural being or something and worship her. Or maybe they would sacrifice her in some barbaric ritual. Maybe they were cannibals! Then they'd eat her!
Jessica was about to turn and sprint back to the beach when she heard a rustling in the bushes ahead of her. Her heart started pounding. Don't be such a wimp, Wakefield! she commanded herself. It's probably just a harmless little animal, or a turtle, or a bird.
If it was only a small bird, however, it was certainly doing a good imitation of Bigfoot. The rustling grew louder, and the animal started making strange, scary noises. It growled and then it whined. The bushes it was hiding in shook vigorously.
Jessica froze in her tracks. She couldn't have moved if her life depended on it.
Suddenly it came bounding out of the bushes, wildly waving its arm
s and screeching.
Jessica screamed at the top of her lungs. For one terrifying instant she was sure it was a headhunter. Then she took a closer look.
No, it was Winston!
Jessica's knees buckled, and she almost collapsed, she was so relieved. After falling overboard, Winston had made it to the island, too! He wasn't a cannibalistic headhunter! "Winston, you idiot, you scared me half to death!" Jessica exclaimed, too overjoyed at the sight of a familiar face to be really mad at him for scaring her.
Winston appeared as happy to see her as she was to see him. He leapt forward to give her a giant bear hug. "Jessica, buddy! I never thought I'd see you, or anyone, ever again! I'm so glad you're all right."
Now that she was no longer in fear of her life, Jessica was just a little peeved. Of all the people to be washed up with on a romantic desert island, she had to get stuck with Winston Egbert, possibly the most annoying person she knew. Why couldn't Ken Matthews have popped out of the bushes at her? Instead it was Winston, looking more pathetic than usual in his bedraggled, shipwrecked state. Still, Winston was better than nobody, Jessica figured.
"How did you get here, anyway?" she asked Winston, "Did you swim, like me?"
"No." Winston shook his head. "I rowed here."
"You rowed here?"
"Yeah. After we capsized, I managed to grab the lifeboat and one of the oars," Winston explained, sounding proud of himself. "I turned it right-side up again and looked all over for you, but by then you'd disappeared. So I just rowed—and rowed—and rowed." He shrugged. "And I landed here."
The lifeboat! Jessica was so excited, she embraced Winston. "We can get home!" she squealed. "It can't be that far to the mainland. C'mon, let's get going right now!"
"Wait a minute, Jess. I had the lifeboat. . . . Well, I guess I didn't pull it up high enough on the beach last night after I landed, and, um, it was gone when I woke up this morning. It must have floated away at high tide." Winston shrugged. "Sorry."
Jessica's hopes were dashed as quickly as they had risen. She wasn't glad to see Winston any longer. She was furious.
Lost At Sea (Sweet Valley High Book 56) Page 4