by Barry Lyga
“Tell them we were running from the police, trying to hide in the subway,” Khalid coached them. His fibbing skills were still top-notch, unaffected by their experience. “They already know that part, and there’s witnesses. And then tell them we jumped down and followed the tracks into the tunnels to get away. But we got lost in there. Which is totally believable because it’s hella dark in there, and the tunnels twist all over the place. So we wandered until the water came out of nowhere and washed us right into the station.”
Incredible and impossible, but the truth was more incredible and more impossible, so they stuck with the lie. Their obvious lack of food and the need for medical attention upon their return gave credence to their lie. And their parents’ gratitude—tempered by the grounding—did the rest of the work for them. In the end, all the moms and dads wanted was their children back. How and why didn’t matter.
Zak’s grounding lasted into the beginning of the school year. He thought it unfair that his parents could lie to him his whole life and yet he would end up being punished, but he figured he’d gotten to see Tommy one last time. They never had.
Maybe they were even.
“Don’t be too hard on them,” Tommy had said. Zak was trying.
He wanted to forgive his parents. It would happen slowly. Right now he felt like he could be angry at them forever for what they’d done, for the lies they’d told. But a part of him knew that nothing—not even ghosts—could last forever.
He wanted to tell his mother what Tommy had said—that he would miss Zak “like that dish you forgot, the one that would be perfect for guests right now.” Wanted to tell her because that meant Tommy had been watching, had been with them even though dead. That their family had been, in some way, complete. Most of what Zak had heard and seen during his adventure, he realized, had originated with Godfrey, not Tommy. But that sentence, that emotion: It proved for certain that Tommy had been watching them.
He thought maybe he understood his parents’ grief. That he could share it. And they could, in time, share his.
He couldn’t forgive, them, though. Not yet. Because somehow he knew that forgiving them would mean explaining what had happened, what he’d seen. And he couldn’t explain. Not because he feared that they’d think he’d lost his mind.
But because it was his. Right now, his time with Tommy—their merged moments, their too-brief good-bye—was a sacred, solitary trust. A gift from one twin to another, like blood in the womb. His parents couldn’t understand because he didn’t yet understand.
Someday he would tell them.
Someday.
* * *
His punishment ended in late September, right around the time Moira’s and Khalid’s did as well. They agreed that their parents had probably coordinated this, for mysterious, ineffable adult reasons.
On his first day of freedom, Zak went—alone—to the subway stop near his home. He rode into Manhattan, switched trains, and went as close to the tip of Manhattan as the subway system would take him. Then he walked the rest of the way, past the Korean War Veterans Memorial, past Castle Clinton, until there was nothing between him and the water but a railing at the edge of Battery Park.
His heart skipped a beat. It did that occasionally now. An emergency room doctor had treated him for salt water inhalation on the day he’d returned to this universe, and had told his parents to get him back on his verapamil. Zak had pretended to take it for a while, but now …
Dr. White-eagle had said that the treatment was a temporary measure, and now Zak was slipping back into his old life, his heart reminding him it was still there and still fragile.
But he thought that maybe—just maybe—some of its strength would linger. A gift.
Zak placed a hand on his chest and the other tight against his ear. He listened to his heart.
He cast his thoughts out past the confluence where the Hudson River met the East River, out into the Upper Bay, to the horizon, to that invisible line where the sky kisses the ocean. Sunset now reminded him of the electroleum-lit buildings of the other New York, the soft glow along their lines and arcs.
Tommy? he thought, without urgency. Tommy, are you out there? he asked, knowing the answer.
He refused to believe—despite Tommy’s disappearance—that his brother was gone. Everyone else had thought that, and they’d been wrong. Until he had proof, he would continue to hope that his twin still lived.
And if he didn’t? If he was truly lost beyond the fathomless depths of the infinite Secret Sea?
Well, then that would be sad. But Zak would survive. He had come through this much, thinking he was only part of a greater whole, but he realized now that it wasn’t a question of fractions. He was doing the wrong math. (He thought of Moira and he smiled.)
It was a question of remainders, not fractions. He was what was left of Thomas and Zakari, the Killian twins. What that meant for him and for the future, he could not know, but he would not forgo the chance to find out.
He knew, in that sun-dappled moment, only one thing, but he knew it for certain. He knew it the way mothers knew they loved their children, the way the shores knew the tides.
Gazing out at the East River as it lapped gently at the bulwark beneath his feet, he knew that he would never look upon the water the same way again.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Most books—well, most of mine, at least—begin with some nugget or kernel of truth, some bit of reality upon which to build my fiction.
In the case of The Secret Sea, there were many kernels. There was Hurricane Sandy, which devastated New York City and surrounding areas in 2012. I had a broken foot at the time and couldn’t evacuate, so my wife and I crossed our fingers and stuck it out. Until the storm killed the cable, we watched the storm on the news, including a flood washing through a PATH station. I filed the image away for the day I would need it.
TTTS (twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome) is an actual medical condition. Happily, with early intervention and treatment, many babies with TTTS are born safely and can live long, productive lives. I read about it and I paid attention because my wife is an identical twin. She never had TTTS, but it didn’t matter. It stuck with me, and that, too, I filed away.
The most exotic, perhaps, of the truth nuggets that formed the basis of the novel, though, is the ship found under the wreckage of the twin towers. People are usually astonished to discover that this wasn’t the product of my imagination, that it actually was—and is—real. I first learned about it in 2011 through a Discovery News article on Discovery.com: http://news.discovery.com/earth/plants/secrets-of-wtc-ship-revealed-110907.htm. I just stumbled upon the article, purely by accident. Just as I happened to read something about TTTS; just as I happened to be sofa-bound when Sandy pummeled New York.
People ask authors all the time, “Where do your ideas come from?” Sometimes the answer is, “Sheer coincidence.”
The boat fascinated me. At the time of its discovery, the scientific community was baffled. The boat didn’t adhere to the most common shipbuilding standards of its day. Dating it was difficult, though not impossible—just harder than it should have been. And most important of all: What the heck was it doing under the World Trade Center?
Workers carefully excavate portions of the boat to preserve as much of it as possible. After being underground for more than two hundred years, much of the boat has been degraded and worn away.
Recently (I’m writing this in early 2015), some of the secrets and mysteries about the boat have been sussed out. We’ve learned, for example, that it was a sloop and that its wood came from the same forests used to build Independence Hall. By examining the tree rings of the lumber, scientists determined that it was most likely built around 1773 (http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2014/07/140731-world-trade-center-ship-tree-rings-science-archaeology/). The best scientific estimates tell us that the boat was in service for only twenty or thirty years before it sank. There is speculation that worms ate at the timbers, leading to its relatively
early demise. Or maybe it was deliberately sunk to add to landfill at the end of lower Manhattan (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/07/30/world-trade-center-ship-mystery_n_5634280.html).
After workers cleared rubble and dirt over three days, the boat’s timbers and structure are evident. As hard as it is to believe, this boat once sailed the ocean!
I think what I love most about the boat is this: When I first read about it back in 2011, we didn’t know much at all. We know a lot more now … but still not everything.
Just like we don’t know how to stop another Hurricane Sandy from flooding New York.
Or how to prevent TTTS.
It’s the things we don’t know that I obsess over, that I seek to explain through made-up stories. Because, yes, I know that Godfrey didn’t ride that boat from one universe to another. The truth is more mundane than that, I’m sure. Someday, someone will have explanations for all of it.
But I will still prefer my own.
TTTS is real. Subways can flood. There really was a boat under the World Trade Center.
The Secret Sea probably does not exist.
Then again …
Photos courtesy of the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation. Preservation of and research regarding the World Trade Center Ship Remnant is funded by a Community Development Block Grant from the United States Department of Housing and Urban Development. Used with permission.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing is a solitary pursuit.
Except for the small army of other people who make it all possible.
You can’t write a book like The Secret Sea without some help from the experts. I want to thank Dr. Leanne Magee for consulting on child psychology, Dr. Dave Morgan for being my go-to physics guy (sorry for taking so many liberties with reality, Dave!), Stephanie Kuehn for connecting me with Dave in the first place, Dr. Deborah Mogelof for advising on medicine, and Jack Norris for help with Latin.
And then there are the early readers, who encouraged me along the way: Morgan Baden, who read the book in chunks as I typed it. Eric Lyga, who pointed out an early fatal flaw. Paul Griffin, whose early enthusiasm was like sunshine and rain to a flower. Gordon Korman, who found a hole and suggested how to fill it.
At Feiwel and Friends, I am eternally indebted to Liz Szabla for her faith and vision, as well as to Jean Feiwel. Also, special thanks to Rich Deas, Liz Dresner, Christine Ma, and Christine Barcellona. My thanks go out, too, to everyone in Sales, Production, and Marketing who made this book possible. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
And thank you, too, for reading. I’ll see you on the waves.
Thank you for reading this Feiwel and Friends book.
The Friends who made
THE SECRET SEA
possible are:
JEAN FEIWEL, Publisher
LIZ SZABLA, Editor in Chief
RICH DEAS, Senior Creative Director
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Barry Lyga is the author of a slew of books for young adults and adults. The Secret Sea is the kind of book he always imagined himself writing when he was Zak’s age. He lives in Brooklyn, New York, with his wife and daughter and his own collection of voices in his head. barrylyga.com. Or sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Prologue
Part One: Zak
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Part Two: Zak, Khalid, Moira
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Part Three: Zak, Khalid, Moira, Tommy
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty-One
Chapter Eighty-Two
Chapter Eighty-Three
Chapter Eighty-Four
Chapter Eighty-Five
Chapter Eighty-Six
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Part Four: Zak
Chapter Ninety
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2016 by Barry Lyga
A Feiwel and Friends Book
An Imprint of Macmillan
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
mackids.com
All rights reserved.
Feiwel and Friends logo designed by Filomena Tuosto
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Lyga, Barry, author.
Title: The secret sea / Barry Lyga.
Description: First edition. | New York: Feiwel & Friends, 2016. | Summary: “Three friends find themselves plunged into a world of qu
antum physics, a rare disease that only affects identical twins, and a mysterious fact about a real-life global catastrophe”—Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2015022201 | ISBN 9781250072832 (hardback) | ISBN 9781250086808 (e-book)
Subjects: | CYAC: Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. | Family life—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction. | Heart—Diseases—Fiction. | Science fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Action & Adventure / General. | JUVENILE FICTION / Science Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.L97967 Sec 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015022201
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First hardcover edition 2016
eBook edition August 2016
eISBN 9781250086808