Journey's End

by Rachel Hawkins

  And as she looked at the fog, she thought of meeting Al yesterday in the cave.

  Next to her, Nolie took a deep breath, both hands on the railing now, but even though she was still a little pale, she was leaning forward, the salt spray and damp making her bright hair curl around her face.

  “Hoooooooly cow,” she murmured, and Bel smiled, oddly pleased. If Nolie had hated this whole trip, it would’ve “bummed” her out, too, seeing as how it was her idea. And her boat. (That’s how Nolie would’ve said it, anyway; Bel made a note to remind her that “bum” meant something really different in Scotland.)

  But Nolie turned to Bel with wide eyes, a grin splitting her face. “This is so totally magic,” she said, and Bel grinned back.

  “You think so?”

  “‘Meteorological phenomena,’” Nolie said, shaking her head. “Try ‘Super Crazy Magic Fog Probably Made By Witches.’”

  “I’m starting to think you might be right,” Bel agreed. “Oh, and you know, now that you’re in Scotland, you should probably say ‘holy hairy coo’ instead of ‘holy cow.’ To fit in.”

  Nolie screwed up her face. “Why do I have the feeling you’re making that up?” she asked, and Bel smiled. She would have nudged Nolie with her elbow, but her friend was still clutching the railing pretty hard, and Bel didn’t want to scare her.

  They were as close to the fog as the boat ever went, now. It loomed up over them, reaching into the sky and blending with the clouds, although Bel could always tell where the fog ended and the clouds began. The fog tended to look more solid, for one thing, but there was also the way it moved, like it was churning. Somewhere in there was a rocky island and the lighthouse, and if Nolie was right, it had gone dark.

  The light going out was a weirdly sad thought.

  Upstairs, Jaime was still talking, but Bel couldn’t make out the words over the sound of the engines. The boat was turning now, putting the Boundary behind them, and Bel frowned, glancing at her watch. The tour lasted exactly forty-five minutes. Fifteen to get out to the Boundary, fifteen to let people take pictures, and then fifteen minutes back to the docks. But according to the green plastic watch on her wrist, the trip had taken just a couple of minutes less than normal. Had Jaime cut picture-taking time? Or had they reached the Boundary faster than usual?

  The ride back to the docks was smooth enough, and Nolie had returned to a pretty normal color, although Bel saw that she kept glancing over a shoulder to look back at the Boundary. It wasn’t until they were nearly at the docks that Nolie said, “Since this is apparently a confessional boat ride, I should probably tell you . . . it’s more than just the light going out. My dad says it’s getting closer. The Boundary.”

  Startled, Bel looked at her friend. “What?”

  Nolie waved one hand. “Science stuff. Just said that it’s moved a little bit closer, but that it does that sometimes? Although he said this time it was kind of a lot.”

  Docking the boat never took long—Dad and Jaime always said that the sooner you get everyone off the boat after seeing the Boundary, the sooner you could get them into the gift shop—and it was only a few minutes before Nolie and Bel were lined up to step back onto the dock, Nolie shucking off her life jacket with a look of immense relief.

  “Okay, so yay Magic Fog,” she said, hanging the jacket on a peg with the rest of them, “but still never going to be a fan of boats.”

  “Fair enough,” Bel replied, reaching into her pocket for a hair elastic. “Do you want to go back down to the beach?” she started, while tying up her hair—then came up short as they stepped onto the dock. “Whoa.”

  “What?” Nolie asked, and Bel nodded toward the figure standing at the far end of the harbor.

  “It’s Maggie,” she said. “Mrs. McLeod. The lady who lives in that big house on the hill.”

  Nolie peered around Bel, and then her shoulder sagged a little. “Oh man, she doesn’t look like a creepy old witch lady at all. She’s wearing jeans.”

  Now that they were back on solid ground, Bel felt safe about nudging Nolie. “She’s not a creepy old witch lady; she’s just old,” she reminded her.

  Mum had told Bel that Maggie had all her groceries delivered, and that she came down the hill once a year for a doctor appointment, but Bel had only caught a glimpse of her once, maybe. So it was odd seeing her standing there in her jumper and jeans, white hair pulled back into a tight bun. She was looking out at the Boundary, her lips clamped tight together, arms crossed.

  Bel looked in the same direction, wondering what Maggie was thinking about.

  “Her clothes aren’t spooky,” Nolie said in a low voice, “but she kind of is? A little bit, at least?”

  Bel was about to agree when she noticed her mum walking across to the boat, almost running. “Hi, sweetie,” she said to Bel, clearly distracted, and then she was heading onto the boat toward Bel’s dad.

  Bel watched her parents talking, and saw her dad put his hands on his hips, chin tilted down as he listened to Mum. Jaime was with them, too, his sandy eyebrows lifting at whatever it was Mum was saying.

  Bel didn’t want to interrupt, so she waited until Jaime was off the boat to corner him.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, and Jaime looked between her and Nolie before scrubbing a hand over his hair.

  “Something’s amiss, seems like,” he told them. “With the Boundary.”

  And then he nodded at Nolie. “Your da’s gone and called a meeting.”

  CHAPTER 11

  THE INSTITUTE DIDN’T HAVE A CONFERENCE ROOM, so they’d filled the old ballroom with as many folding chairs as they could find. It still hadn’t been enough, though; Nolie was standing up near the back with dozens of other people. The whole village of Journey’s End had turned out tonight, and Nolie wasn’t sure if it was the press of people or their expressions—it was like a deep V was carved just over the bridge of every nose—that made her sort of wish she’d stayed home with a book and Sir Woolington.

  Up at the front of the room, Nolie’s dad stood on an overturned crate of some kind, a sheaf of index cards in his hands. His eyes scanned the crowd and the cards in his hands shook. Outside, it was raining again, and water ran in streams down the windows behind him. Even through all the rain, though, Nolie could see the Boundary, undulating way out at sea.

  For the first time, Nolie wondered if her dad had chosen this room not because it was the biggest one, but so that he would have the Boundary behind him for people to look at.

  Making herself as small as she could, Nolie huddled against the paneled wall, thinking that she might just try to sneak away and hide out in Dad’s office until this was all over. But before she could make a break for it, someone was nudging her side.

  Bel.

  She wasn’t alone, either. There was a little boy, maybe five, holding her hand, his hair a few shades lighter than Bel’s own dark blond, but they had the same nose and hazel eyes. He was dragging his heels a little bit, and Nolie saw Bel gently pull him forward.

  “This is my brother Jack,” she said. “I’m meant to be watching him.”

  Nolie didn’t really know how to talk to little kids, so she just gave Jack a wave. “Hi.”

  He studied her with solemn eyes before turning to Bel. “Can I have a lolly now?”

  Bel tugged him a bit closer. “If you’re good and quiet during the meeting, then you can.”

  Jack looked like he might argue, but then Bel glanced back to Nolie. “This is a bit mad, isn’t it?” she asked breathlessly, and Nolie nodded.

  “It’s a lot mad.” She knew that Bel meant mad like crazy, not angry, but it was that, too. There was a humming in the air like a swarm of bees, and the whole room felt too hot and too crowded.

  But now that Bel was here, Nolie didn’t feel like running away as much.

  “What will they do?” she asked, lowering her head close t
o Bel’s. “If the fog comes closer?”

  “It won’t,” Bel said firmly. She nodded her head, and hair fell from behind one ear, brushing against her chin.

  Jack had sat down at their feet now and was pulling at his shoelaces, clearly ignoring whatever his sister was talking about.

  Frowning, Nolie fiddled with her sleeve. “But you said there were stories—”

  “Aye, stories.” Raising up on her tiptoes, Bel surveyed the room. “Legends, that’s all. If the Boundary had ever moved closer, we’d know it.”

  Nolie’s dad was still looking over his notes and didn’t seem in that big of a hurry to talk, so Nolie said, “But Dad’s instruments. The readings.”

  Bel shrugged. “Sometimes science is wrong.”

  Nolie didn’t think that was a very good answer. “What about Albert?” she whispered, and Bel looked over at her, brow furrowed.

  “Who’s Albert?” Jack asked, looking up at the two of them, and rather than answer, Bel fished into her pocket for a sucker, which she quickly handed off to him.

  He took it with a smile, noisily tearing the paper off, all thoughts of Albert forgotten.

  Nolie would’ve used the distraction to talk to Bel some more, but then her dad was gesturing for the room to quiet down, so she didn’t get a chance to say anything else.

  “I’d like to thank everyone for coming tonight,” her dad started, but that’s as far as he got before Bel’s brother Jaime, sitting in the front row, called out.

  “Not like we had much choice!”

  Nolie’s stomach twisted, her face feeling hot as she watched her dad fumble through his cards again. “I realize the announcement was a little abrupt, but we thought the sooner we talked to everyone about this, the better off we’ll all be.”

  Her dad said we, but there was no one else from the Institute here tonight except for his assistant, Alan, standing behind him and trying to look serious with his clipboard. Her dad’s face was nearly as red as Nolie’s hair, and Nolie thought he looked as nervous as she felt.

  “There shouldn’t be cause for alarm—yet—but according to our recent observations, the Boundary is moving closer to shore.”

  Nolie’s dad wasn’t speaking loudly, but she felt his words land like little bombs all around the room. A buzz of whispers and murmurs started up, and Nolie kept her eyes trained on her dad’s face, waiting for him to say more. He was smiling a bit, but she was pretty sure it was the same nervous smile she gave when presenting in front of the class. And usually her classmates weren’t watching her the same way these people were watching her dad now, shoulders stiff, expressions closed.

  “It—it could move back,” her dad added, “and almost certainly will, but if it keeps moving forward at the rate it is right now, that . . . that will be of concern,” he finished, clearing his throat and shuffling his index cards.

  There was a flush still staining his neck, and Nolie saw him lift his eyes to the crowd again, then wince slightly as he looked back down at the cards.

  Whatever he was about to say, he didn’t want to say it.

  “With that in mind, though, for the time being, it seems like it would be in all our best interests if tour boats to the Boundary ceased operation.”

  Next to Nolie, Bel drew in a sharp breath, and Nolie saw Bel’s dad stand up in the front row.

  “So you want us to stop working until your type figure out what’s the trouble?” His voice was deep and husky, his accent a little thicker than Bel’s. At her feet, Jack looked up, and Nolie watched her dad frown.

  “I understand that’s an inconvenience—” Nolie’s dad started, but Bel’s dad just laughed.

  “An inconvenience? It’ll be a lot more than that if we’re out of work for long.”

  A woman a few rows behind Bel’s dad stood up. She was older, her dark hair streaked with gray, a red scarf around her throat. “Kenneth’s right,” she said. “And if the tour boats can’t go out, the tourists will stop coming. This town doesn’t survive without them eating in our cafés, buying our petrol, buying all those”—she waved a hand toward Bel’s parents—“knickknacks and what have you. You’re asking us to shut down our lives because of a wee bit of fog? This is our town, and there’s always been fog.”

  Another voice piped up from somewhere in the row of chairs. “The people of Journey’s End know best what do to about the Boundary. All the Institute does is stare at it and type things into a computer.”

  There were more murmurs of agreement, and Nolie felt her face go even hotter. This wasn’t going well at all, and she could see her dad clutching his cards tighter.

  “This is for everyone’s safety,” he reminded them. “And may come to nothing.”

  “We’ll come to nothing if you have your way,” Bel’s dad said, and Nolie glanced over at Bel. The corners of her mouth were turned down, and she kept tugging at the sleeves of her sweater, pulling them over her fingers.

  She wouldn’t look at Nolie.

  “I can’t make you stop the boats,” Nolie’s dad said, and although his face was just as red, his voice was firm. Nolie had never seen her dad angry before—he had never been around enough to get angry with her—but she thought he might be now. “I’m asking you to, though. Just to be on the safe side.”

  “And I’m telling you we won’t,” Bel’s mum answered, rising to her feet. She pointed a finger toward the window behind Nolie’s dad. “If the Boundary is a problem, we’ll handle it.”

  Nolie’s dad may have called the meeting, but it was Bel’s mum who ended it. With that, she turned and gestured to her husband, who got up, signaling for Bel to follow. Jaime rose to his feet, too, and soon everyone was standing and heading for the door.

  Nolie looked up at her dad, her heart in her throat, and while he was clearly not happy, he didn’t say anything to stop the crowd from leaving.

  “Bel—” Nolie said, turning to the other girl.

  But Bel was already scooping up Jack and walking toward her family, disappearing into the crowd.

  CHAPTER 12

  “WELL, THAT WAS A RIGHT DOG’S DINNER,” BEL’S DAD said as he unlocked the front door. Bel, her mum, Jaime, and Jack all trundled in after him, stamping their feet on the mat first.

  “It won’t come to anything,” Mum insisted, taking off her jacket. “Come to think of it, business will probably pick up.”

  Jaime was already at the counter, turning on the electric kettle, and Bel’s dad braced both hands on the back of a kitchen chair, looking at her mum with raised eyebrows. “How d’you reckon?”

  “The scarier the Boundary is, the more people will want to see it,” Jaime answered, glancing over his shoulder, and even though Bel’s mum rolled her eyes, she smiled all the same.

  “Well, I was going to say it will make the place seem more mysterious, but yes, that, too.”

  Bel’s dad didn’t seem as convinced, shaking his head as he sat in his chair and scooped Jack onto his lap, studying the sticky blue lolly ring around Jack’s mouth. “The Institute has been looking for an excuse to shut down the boat trips for years now, Fee,” he said to Mum. “If they can prove it’s dangerous . . .”

  “It is dangerous,” Jack said, reaching for a stack of paper napkins on the table. Bel had to move fast to get them out of his reach, knowing he’d only tear them up. Her little brother scowled, then added, “It eats people, don’t it?”

  “Doesn’t it,” Bel’s whole family corrected in unison, and then Bel’s dad tickled Jack’s ribs, sending him into fits of laughter.

  “The fog won’t eat you, Jackie,” Dad said, blowing a raspberry on Jack’s neck, “because I’m going to eat you first!”

  Jack kept shrieking and giggling, and even though Bel’s mum said something about not riling him up this close to bedtime, her dad didn’t let up.

  “Off to bed!” Bel called, and Jaime gave her a nod
even as Jack yelled, “Noooooo, Bel, save me!”

  “It’s too late for that now!” Dad said in the same growly voice he’d used for all of them when they played this game, and Jack dissolved into another fit of laughter.

  “’Night, sweetheart,” Mum said, catching Bel by the door and pressing a quick kiss to the crown of her head. But when Bel went to walk away, her mum caught her arm gently, keeping her from leaving. “You’re sure you’re all right?” she asked. “I know you’re good friends with Dr. Stanhope’s daughter. Tonight didn’t . . . mess that up?”

  Bel shook her head, even though she hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to Nolie. But then, Nolie didn’t seem like the type to get mad at her over something like this.

  Or at least she hoped she wasn’t. After everything with Leslie, Bel wasn’t sure she really got how friends worked anymore.

  Bel leaned against the wall and looked at her mum. “Did you know there was a lighthouse out there? In the fog?”

  Mum pushed her hair back from her eyes, sighing. “Well, I’d never seen it,” she said with a shrug. “No one had, but it doesn’t surprise me. This used to be a fishing village, after all, and a lighthouse certainly would’ve been handy around this coast.”

  Bel nodded, but wished she could explain to Mum why it bothered her that she’d been wrong about the lighthouse—that she’d never even asked before. What else might she be wrong about?

  As she made her way up to her little room under the eaves, Bel wondered again if she and Nolie should’ve said something tonight. But would anyone have listened? And it wasn’t like they had Al there to prove what they were saying anyway. What if everyone had just thought they were mental?

  What if they were mental?

  Bel was still frowning when she opened her bedroom door, so lost in her thoughts that it took her a second to register that she wasn’t alone.

  There was someone sitting on her bed, and as Bel’s heart thudded hard in her chest, Al stood awkwardly, raising one hand in a kind of wave. “Hullo.”