The Island

by Alice Ward

  The pain that ripped through my stomach was enough to make me want to throw up as I eyed the crying child, remembering other children in a world far from this one. I surveyed the area around the boy, looking for signs of a parent. But no one seemed to notice the kid. Everyone was too busy watching the game or texting on their phones to notice his distress.

  I slowly walked toward the boy. In front of him, I got down on one knee so that we were at the same level. “Hey there,” I said softly. “Where’s your mom and dad?”

  He sniffled and wiped his eye with the back of his hand. “I… I… I don’t know,” he heaved.

  I took in a breath that felt like fire. I couldn’t stand to see kids cry, even when it was over something trivial. It triggered something inside of me, made me feel crazy and helpless. “All right. Did they bring you here?”

  “Yeah. My m-mom did, but I c-can’t find her.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m going to find her for you. I promise.”

  His lower lip trembled. “But what if she left?”

  My heart cracked a little. “She wouldn’t leave you here. Trust me. If she’s your mom, she loves you and would never leave you.” I ducked my head lower and looked into his big brown eyes. “Do you believe that?”

  He blinked away his tears and smiled just enough to show me the jack-o’-lantern teeth I noticed when he was racing the bases. “Yes.”

  “Good. Now, listen. My name is Jake, and I’m going to help you find your mom. What’s your name?”

  “Jagger.”

  A shiver ran through me. That’s what I always said I’d name my own kid if I ever had one. “All right, Jagger. Do you know what direction you last saw your mom in?”

  He looked to the left and the right, his face growing pale as he did so. “No,” he whispered. “I got my name chosen to run the race, and I ran it, and then I won and got my picture taken with the Beasts’ mascot because I came in first because I’m very fast because I really like to run a lot and then… then…”

  “Whoa, slow down,” I said and smiled at the kid, swiping his sweaty mop of hair back from his forehead. “Take a breath and tell me what happened after you got your picture taken.”

  His small forehead furrowed in concentration. “They gave me this t-shirt…” he pointed at the navy blue Beast of the Bases shirt he was wearing. He’d pulled it over the orange one underneath. “I saw a woman in a pink shirt and ran over to her, except she wasn’t my mom in her pink shirt, she was someone else’s mom. But I followed her because I thought she might take me to my mom, but then I came down here and then I couldn’t remember which way to go and—”

  “Alright. I get it. So, your mom is wearing a pink shirt. That helps a lot. Great job, Jagg.”

  He smiled, showing all the spaces where he was missing teeth. “That’s what my mom calls me. Jagg. Sometimes she calls me Jagg-a-lag when I won’t hurry up. Sometimes she calls me Jagg-a-lot when I won’t slow down. When I talk too much, she calls me Jagg-a-wag cause she says I have a wagging tongue, but I think that’s funny cause only dogs wag their tails. I want a dog. Do you have a dog? What’s his name? Is he a boy or a girl?”

  Oh dear Jesus.

  “I don’t have a dog. I—”

  He looked stricken. “Why? Don’t you like dogs? Mom won’t let me have a dog cause we live with Aunt Cadence, but she said that one day when we have our own house I can have a dog, but not a cat cause she’s allergic. But also a snake.” Jagger started hissing, his tongue poking through the gap in his teeth. “I’m going to name my snake Slither cause, you know, they don’t have feet and—”

  “They slither on their bellies,” I finished for him before making an attempt at getting him back on track. “I’m surprised your mom would let you have a snake. Most moms don’t like them. Want to go find her?”

  His brown eyes practically glowed like they were lit from within. “My mom is really cool. She said she had a snake when she was little and that she really missed him when he died, and…”

  My heart twisted as another memory hit me in the gut. This time, it wasn’t of death and destruction, but of my childhood crush with her python wrapped around her arm. She loved that damn snake and especially loved terrifying everyone with it. I could remember the mischievous glint in her eyes as she’d snuck up on some unsuspecting victim. Her musical laugh as they took off running. The way she looked at me when I didn’t run but instead stroked the snake’s smooth scales, “accidently” touching her skin as I did so.

  “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I interrupted, blinking that memory away too. “What if I picked you up? Would that help? You could ride on my shoulders. That way, you could see above all the other people. And your mom might be able to see you better.”

  His eyes lit up. “Okay. Yeah! Then she can see me waving at her!”

  I couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across my lips. “Exactly, buddy. It sounds like we have a great plan here. Come on. Climb aboard.”

  I turned around and crouched lower so he could clamber onto my shoulders. “Hold tight,” I instructed as I gripped his legs and stood up. “Let me know if you see her.”

  “Okay,” he gleefully said, his little hands grabbing my hair. I winced at the pain as he took out a few strands by the root, but didn’t say anything. If a little bit of discomfort was what it took to find his parents safely, I was more than happy to step up to the plate.

  “Just look all around,” I instructed as we climbed the steps. “She’s probably looking for you right now.”

  “Okay, Jake, I’ll look real hard, just like an eagle going after a rabbit,” he responded in his slightly squeaky voice. A laugh bubbled in my chest. I was glad I’d left my box and gone for a walk. Helping a lost kid find his mom was a much better use of my time.

  Suddenly, Jagger’s legs kicked excitedly against my chest. “There! There! I see her!”

  “Which way? Right or left?”

  “Right. No. Left. Um, which way is left?”

  I chuckled and looked up, holding onto Jagg’s legs tighter, to see where his little finger was pointing. Apparently, his mom wasn’t in front of us because no little finger was in sight. I did a three-sixty, looking for someone who might be looking for us.

  Woman — check.

  Pink shirt — check.

  Frantically looking around — check.

  “There!” Jagg squealed. “She’s there!”

  “Alright, buddy. I’m gonna put you down. Take me to her.”

  I bent down and Jagger jumped from my shoulders. He took off like a shot, weaving around people’s legs like a professional running back heading for a touchdown.

  “Jagger!” I called after him. “Wait!”

  I scrambled after the kid, afraid that he would end up getting lost in the crowd all over again. “Jagger!” I rounded a group of teenagers, keeping my eyes on the little blue shirt.

  “Mom!” Jagger catapulted himself along the concrete and flew into a woman’s open arms.

  “Jagger!” she gasped, pulling him tight. He wrapped his legs around her waist and she stood up. With her face buried against his little shoulder and her dark chestnut hair falling around her cheeks, her features were hidden. She turned her back to me, continuing to hug her son close. “Where were you?” I heard her ask.

  “I tried to find you,” Jagger said. “And then I couldn’t find you and… you were gone!” His voice broke on his last word, and he started crying again.

  “Oh, Jagger,” she exhaled, the terror evident in her voice. She sounded close to crying herself. “You can’t go off like that. I was so scared. Do you get that?”

  “Yes, Mommy,” Jagger sniffled.

  I stayed where I was, feeling frozen in place. There was something familiar about Jagger’s mother’s voice. It was like a voice that came to you in a recurring dream. Every night it greeted you, but by morning, it was nothing but the faint memory of a whisper. I felt like I’d been thrown back in time as my world tilted on its axis. What a fucked up day.<
br />
  Jagger pulled back from his mother’s neck, and I could see his face over her shoulder. His eyes shone, and two deep dimples appeared in his cheeks as he grinned that adorable gap-toothed smile. “Jake helped me find you. I rode on his shoulders, like a horse. Yee-haw.”

  “Jake?”

  Jagg’s mother turned to face me, and just like that, all the oxygen in the universe was gone. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I could barely think. The Earth shifted, tossing me upside down and kicking me off the face of the planet. I was falling through space, flying at a million miles an hour.

  “Jake,” she repeated, but this time the name came with a tone of familiarity. A tone of shock. A tone of pain.

  “Skye,” I whispered and knew my voice sounded the same.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Skye

  Six Years Earlier…

  I pumped my legs harder, making the bike wheels whir with speed. Heat simmered off the top of the hill, the asphalt a makeshift oven. It was only May, but it was the hottest spring I could remember. I didn’t care though. I loved it. An early summer meant early pool and beach days. There could be no better way to kick off the end of my high school career.

  I crested the hill and stopped pedaling. As my bike skimmed down the street with increasing speed I sucked in a fresh breath. The wind tossed my hair around my face and cooled the sweat on my neck and temples. No matter how old I got, I would never tire of that feeling, the one that came when I coasted down a hill after killing myself biking up it.

  My bike glided toward a fork in the road, and I took a right, still using the momentum from the hill to slice my way along the street. As I biked, the houses became bigger and farther apart. The hedges grew taller, and the iron fences seemed more menacing. Behind the bars, though, I knew there were mini paradises. Houses with elevators and basement movie theaters that seated twenty. Backyard pools with waterfalls. Tennis courts that were rarely even used but existed just to one-up the neighbors.

  I’d lived my entire life in Weston, and though I still lived in a pretty standard three-bedroom house with my mom and dad, I’d spent my entire childhood with the rich kids who lived along this street. There were two sides to Weston, the uber-rich side and the middle-class slash lower-class side, but since there was only one high school, we pretty much intermingled with no regard.

  I gently hit my brakes as I arrived at the house at the very end of the street. Blindingly white, the towering mansion was the most beautiful one on the block. Whether the climbing ivy on the front of the house had been intentionally cultivated or not, it was still gorgeous, creating a glorious background for the fountain in the middle of the circular driveway. I’d spent more days than I could count in this house, and it had become my second home years ago.

  Leaving my bike in the grass, I trotted for the front door.

  “Skye!”

  I turned toward the garage. Trey waved at me from the doorway, the bright sun glinting off his blond hair.

  I shielded my eyes against the light and walked over to him. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Jake got a Maserati.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t add, shit.

  Trey grinned in pleasure. “Yeah, it’s pretty tight. Come on.”

  He turned and started walking for a doorway on the left side of the garage. With enough room to house probably twenty vehicles, the garage was divided into several compartments. Trey and I left the one that was used for storage and went into the main area.

  There, between the yellow Jeep and brand new Mustang sat a white convertible, its top down. The paint was so fresh it seemed to sparkle even in the garage’s dim lighting.

  “Isn’t it awesome?” Trey asked, the excitement in his voice making me smile.

  I forced the smile away before he could see it and shrugged. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

  I bit my tongue before asking the question that was on my mind. Did Jake really need another car?

  “Where is Jake?” I questioned instead.

  “Right here,” a voice said at the same moment two hands tickled my waist from behind. I yelped and jumped. Jake stepped in front of me, a mischievous smirk on his lips. At the sight of him, my stomach flipped over.

  “Don’t scare me like that,” I chastised, smacking his hand.

  He just smiled wider. “I think you like it.”

  Something about the way he looked at me was seductive. Or maybe I was imagining it.

  “No,” I clipped. “I don’t.”

  Jake’s nose wrinkled. “Yeah, right.”

  Quick as a flash, I reached out and slid a finger against his neck, hissing like I’d sicced him with my pet snake, Monty Python. He jerked away. “Hey! No fair.”

  “All’s fair in love and war,” I singsonged. As soon as I said the words, I regretted them. Just mentioning love around Jake was a dangerous thing to do. Not because it would give him ideas, but because it would remind me of what I wanted but could never have.

  Looking away, I cleared my dry throat. “I think I’m dehydrated. It’s hot as balls out there.”

  “Catch.” Trey extracted a Gatorade from the garage’s mini fridge and tossed it to me.

  “Thanks.” I turned back to Jake. “Hey, why did you get a new car? Didn’t you just get that Mustang?”

  Jake and Trey turned to look at each other, knowing and identical smiles plastered on their faces. “Two is better than one,” Jake replied. “Especially when it comes to extracurriculars.”

  “Right.” I took a drink of Gatorade and turned away so the boys wouldn’t see me rolling my eyes. I’d never understood their need for drag racing. I got the part about the adrenaline rush, yeah. I myself had a thing for speed and danger.

  But not for getting caught. And drag racing in Weston, New York seemed like it was the number one way to ensure arrest. I loved action and excitement. If I hadn’t, the two wild guys standing next to me wouldn’t be my best friends. But getting hauled into jail? No, thank you. I took my thrills with a small side of caution. My parents’ wrath was legend, and I avoided it at all costs.

  Ever since Jake received his full inheritance, he’d been going crazy spending it. As laid out in his parents’ will, he’d received an allowance each year of his childhood and teenage years. When he turned eighteen ten months ago, nearly a billion was funneled into his bank account, with more to come over the next twenty years.

  Most people would say they couldn’t imagine having that kind of money. Being Jake’s friend since the fifth grade, though, meant I could. Just being in his uncle’s multimillion-dollar house gave me a taste of what that kind of lifestyle was like. I’d hoped that once Jake received his money, he’d start thinking smarter when it came to writing checks. So far, it didn’t look like that was happening.

  At all.

  “Let’s take this for a ride,” Jake whooped and jumped behind the Maserati’s steering wheel. Trey quickly claimed shotgun, leaving me to clamber into the back. I knew how to drive and had a license, even though I didn’t have a car. Jake had offered me one of his but my parents said no, that I could drive Mom’s mini-van if I needed to go anywhere. Needless to say, I rode my bike as much as possible.

  Jake didn’t waste any time putting the convertible into reverse, peeling out of the garage, and roaring up the driveway. The wind whipped through my hair, the rush of riding my bike earlier now a distant memory. Jake left the neighborhood and screamed around a few turns, taking us on a side road leading toward the country. As the car sped up, excitement built in my veins. For a brief moment, I wished that I could be stupid enough to take part in the drag races Jake and Trey loved.

  Needing to feel free, I unbuckled my seat belt and stood up, throwing my hands over my head. An unchecked and primal cry flew from my throat. The wind picked it up and carried it away behind us, but I kept on yelling, sending my war cry into the countryside.

  Jake and Trey joined me with their own hoots and hollers. Breathless, I collapsed back into my seat. My face felt stre
tched thin from the force of the wind against it, and I knew my hair was a wild mess.

  “Crazy woman,” Trey yelled, though he couldn’t hide his smile as he looked back at me.

  “I’m only half as crazy as you,” I countered, having to shout above the rushing air. “Where are we going?”

  “The quarry,” Jake yelled over his shoulder.

  Fifteen minutes later, we were in a parking lot at the edge of the woods. A wide dirt trail led down into the shady foliage, but we ignored it. Instead, the three of us languidly sat in the car, under the shade of a big tree, and passed a beer around.

  “What does your uncle think about this car?” I asked Jake.

  A look of disgust washed over his chiseled features. Even when he was frowning, Jake was undeniably hot. With his dark brown waves, matching eyes, deep-cut dimples, and toned arms, he drove every single girl at our school wild.

  Except me, I reminded myself.

  “Who cares?” he asked. “He’s gone anyway.”

  “Just till Thursday,” Trey added.

  Jake shrugged and looked away as if to say, so what?

  He’d never hidden how he felt about his uncle. In Jake’s mind, the guy was stricter than a nun. Trey and I didn’t see it that way. All of our parents gave us curfews and punished us when we got caught screwing up. At least Jake’s uncle spent every other week traveling for work. That meant that Jake got to do whatever he wanted half of the time.

  Maybe losing his parents at ten meant it was different for him. I didn’t know. For only the millionth time, I wondered what was going on in Jake’s head. He seemed to carry around a secret burden. I’d never gotten a peek at it, and as far as I knew, neither had Trey.

  “Hey,” Jake said, his back becoming straighter. “Is that Coleen and Serenity?”

  I followed his gaze to where two girls our age had emerged from the woods. They looked like every other high school girl in hot weather in their short shorts and crop tops, but they were different because we went to school with them, and I’d seen the mean — and slutty — side of their nature too many times.