Escape From Fear (8 page)

“Yes,” Forrest murmured. “Tonight.”

They watched as Cimmaron walked down the steps, head high, as though she were a debutante at a ball. Better than a debutante—she climbed into her beat-up old car with its engine that rattled loudly as if she were a queen driving off in a carriage. Forrest's eyes followed her all the way. Then, smiling blissfully, he called for the waitress. Suddenly he was hungry.

Jack couldn't take it any longer. When the waitress left to get Forrest's burger, he blurted, “OK, Ashley and I want to know—what's the list for? Whose names are on it?”

“You heard Cimmaron. The less you know, the better. If it all blows up, you can say you were innocent.” He grinned and took a drag of his Coke, the one the waitress had set down moments before. “But I thank you, Jack.

I thank you, Ashley. You don't know what your keeping quiet means to me. You've proven yourselves to be instant and true friends.”

Even though she ducked her head to acknowledge the compliment, Ashley looked even less certain than Jack felt. “I've never kept a secret from Mom and Dad,” she protested. “Well, OK, maybe I have,” she corrected herself. “But not one like this.”

“They're going to know something's not right if you act all jumpy. Just behave normally,” Forrest coaxed. “Be interested in whatever it is they're talking about. Focus on the conversation. We'll tell them Cimmaron's going to be speaking at the park, and you both need to tell them how much you want to go. I'll do the rest.”

“I don't know if I'm any good at acting—” Ashley started to protest, before Forrest cut her off.

“In that case, I'd say you'd better start practicing now. Look across the street by the flagpole. It's your parents. And they're headed our way.”

J
ack's parents came into view, waiting for traffic to pass before they darted across the street to the restaurant. Although Olivia wasn't close enough for Jack to read her expression, he could tell by the way she moved that she was worried. Hugging her sides, she hurried after Steven, who marched up the restaurant steps.

“Forrest, are you all right?” Steven asked when he reached them. “Denise told us everything that happened with you and Cimmaron. I'm sorry your mother didn't show up.”

“I'm fine, sir. Actually, I'm feeling great. Cimmaron just left.”

“She came? Here, to the restaurant?” Olivia asked, incredulous. “But Denise, she said—I thought—”

Forrest smiled broadly, exposing perfect white teeth. “Cimmaron didn't have time to stay, so she wants me to meet her tonight at Harbor Park. She's a storyteller. It's all right if I go, isn't it? Jack and Ashley, too, and you and Mr. Landon, naturally, will be welcome as well. You're excited about coming to hear Cimmaron, aren't you, Ashley?”

He lasered his eyes onto Ashley, who quickly nodded yes.

“And you, Jack?”

Now that his parents were sitting right in front of him, Jack felt uncomfortable with the deception. His parents had raised both him and Ashley to be honest, to be as accountable for the things they chose not to tell as for the things they did. Still, he'd promised Forrest he'd help, and so, mustering as much enthusiasm as he could, he said, “Yeah. Sure. I really want to go.”

“So it's all settled. Tonight at Harbor Park.”

Exchanging glances with Olivia, Steven told him, “Of course. We'll have to move our plans around a bit, but I'm sure we can get you there, Forrest.”

“Plans? What plans?” Ashley asked. “Are we going on a boat ride?”

“No, no, not a boat ride. It's something that could be even better,” Steven said. “Your mother will tell you all about it, but let's do first things first. The most important thing you should know, Forrest, is that after several hours on the phone and a truckload of red tape, your parents granted us temporary custody. So, at least for now, you're officially our ward.”

“Are they terribly angry?” Forrest's voice was dry and detached, as though nothing concerning his adoptive parents could possibly interest him now.

Steven looked at Forrest quizzically, answering, “They're upset and hurt. When I told them you were here on St. John, they knew immediately that you must have come to trace your birth mother. And, well—they're trying to understand. Your father might not be able to make it, but your mother found a flight that will get her here soon.”

“Define soon.”

“Tomorrow morning. She'll arrive around ten.”

“Do you feel like sharing with us what happened with Cimmaron?” Olivia asked Forrest, trying, it seemed, to pull him back onto the subject of his birth mother. But Forrest answered that he didn't want to talk about Cimmaron, at least not yet, and that his head was too full with worry about what his mother was going to do to him when she arrived from Paris and what he really needed was to talk about other things, since he wanted to get his mind off his troubles. Jack knew it was a dodge; his awareness of that made him shift uneasily. He kept thinking of Cimmaron and the list. Lives hang in the balance. Whose lives? Cimmaron's? Could she be in danger? Or was she the one creating the trouble?

When the waitress reappeared, Forrest made a joke about how she would never be rid of him, at which she giggled and happily supplied Steven and Olivia with menus. Jack wasn't surprised that the waitress was delighted to have Forrest stay. He'd already left her two enormous tips.

While their parents placed their orders, Ashley's eyes met Jack's, and Jack shook his head at her. He could tell by the way his sister's brows crunched together that she was just as worried as he was. As Forrest talked on, his words smooth and wily, Ashley picked up a fork and began to tap it on the edge of the table.
Twink, twink, twink
, like someone plucking a guitar string.
Twink, twink, twink
. When Forrest gave her a look, she slapped the fork onto the table and dropped her hands into her lap.

“Ashley? Jack! What's going on with you two?” Olivia suddenly demanded. “Jack, you keep staring off into space, and Ashley, you're as jumpy as a cat. Are you guys all right?”

“Yeah. Sure. We're fine,” Jack mumbled.

“How did your meetings go, Dr. Landon?” Forrest asked, planting his elbows on the table and propping his chin in his hands.

Olivia looked at him with surprise. Jack knew his mother believed in letting kids share at their own pace and in their own time. “Let them be the ones to lead us into things they want to talk about,” she'd tell Steven whenever they'd discuss how to bring out a hurting child, one of their “fosters.” Jack watched now as his mother shifted mental gears.

“Well, Forrest, the seminar was intense. Disturbing, of course, to learn how badly damaged the coral reefs have become. Are you sure you want to talk about this? I mean, now?”

“Absolutely. I'm really very interested. Didn't you say the reefs are actually living creatures?” Forrest pressed, pretending an interest but figuring, Jack knew, that it would be a good way to turn the conversation in a completely different direction. You had to hand it to Forrest, Jack thought. He was as cool and calculating as any diplomat could be.

“Yes, that's the reason I came to St. John—we're studying ways to save the reefs,” Olivia said, smiling at him. There was nothing she liked better than to explain science to an audience of kids, even if, as in this case, her own kids counted for two-thirds of the audience. If Forrest wanted to hear, Olivia wouldn't disappoint.

“You're in for it now, Forrest,” Steven joked. Olivia gave Steven a playful punch and replied, “If they're coming with us tonight, they should know this stuff.”

“True,” Steven agreed.

“Coral reefs are one of nature's most magnificent creations,” she began, turning her attention back to the three of them. “They've been around for about 400 million years. They're similar to rain forests in that they provide homes for many different creatures—hundreds of species of fish, crabs, lobsters, starfish, sea urchins, sea cucumbers, anemones….” She was ticking them off on her fingers while she spoke. “So when the reefs are destroyed, a lot of creatures become homeless, and today too many reefs are being destroyed. We have already lost one-tenth of the world's coral reefs—can you believe that?” Her voice rose in indignation. “One-tenth! Another third will probably be lost in the next 20 years—even without climate change. They get damaged from pollution, sewage, and other debris dumped into coastal waters—things like fish lines and nets and plastic bottles and garbage. People can be so careless!”

“Or maybe they're just uncaring,” Steven broke in. “Or ignorant. When swimmers stand on reefs or boaters drop anchors there, they crush and break coral. Because coral grows only about an inch a year, it takes a very long time to recover from that kind of human-caused destruction.”

Taking over again, Olivia said, “At the meeting, I was talking to an expert on coral reefs—her name is Ginger Garrison. When I told her about all that anchor damage we saw this morning at Jumbie Bay, she was really surprised. She said she couldn't imagine why anyone would be dropping anchor there—it's just not a place where boaters ever stop. You know, coral isn't just rock; it's made up of tiny, fragile, living animals called coral polyps….”

As his parents went on with their explanation, Jack kept wondering at Forrest's cool demeanor. Tonight he was going to pass off a list of names, like a spy, and yet he could change his face into a mask that hid everything going on inside him. He kept his eyes locked on Olivia's, as if he didn't want to miss a single word, even when the waitress brought their salads and refilled the glasses of iced tea. Steven, whose pale skin was already turning pink on the top of his head from the heat, gulped his gratefully, but Olivia left hers untouched. She was as interested in sharing the story of the reefs as Forrest pretended to be in hearing it.

“What about global warming?” Forrest asked. “I read an article that said global warming is maybe the biggest danger to reefs. Is that correct?”

“That's absolutely right, Forrest,” Olivia said, looking impressed. “Just a two-degree rise in maximum water temperature can stress corals, even kill them. And that's what's been happening all over the world because of global warming.”

Jack was puzzled. Even though he was only half listening, the gloom and doom his mother was reporting about the dying coral reefs should have been a real downer, yet Jack saw a spark in her eyes, an undercurrent that didn't match the words she spoke. There was something else going on. Knowing how his mother operated, he figured she'd lead up to it through a lot of layers of talk before she'd spring the surprise on them, if that's what that half-hidden excitement meant—a surprise. Something good.

“Among reef creatures that have already been harmed,” she continued, “are sea turtles. One species is not only endangered, it's
critically
endangered, which is even worse—and that's the hawksbill turtle, the kind we were lucky enough to see at Jumbie Bay this morning. Like other sea dwellers, hawksbills need coral reefs—”

“Oh, go ahead and tell them,” Steven broke in, grinning at Olivia. “You can fill them in on the details about hawksbills on our way to the beach tonight.”

“Beach? Tonight?” Ashley sat up straight, her brown eyes darting from her father to her mother and back.

“Yes. We'll go back to Jumbie Bay after our time at Harbor Park,” Olivia informed them. “At the meeting, I heard that a hawksbill turtle was seen nesting—laying her eggs—on the beach at Jumbie Bay last night. Maybe she's the turtle we saw this morning, but there's a chance that another one or two might come to lay eggs tonight. It'll be a perfect night to watch them—a full moon, mild weather….”

“But I can still go to see Cimmaron, right?” Forrest interrupted. For the first time, Jack heard tension in his voice. The mask had slipped just a little.

“Yes. There's no reason we can't do both,” Olivia told him. “First the park, then the beach. If we're lucky enough to watch turtles laying eggs, you won't be sorry. It really would be an incredible experience!”

“Right. Incredible.” Forrest didn't sound convincing at all, and Jack worried that his parents would notice.

“It's all right, Forrest,” Olivia said, covering his hand with hers. “We'll get you to the park. You'll see Cimmaron again.”

 

Since they expected to have a late night, it was decided they should all take naps, which suited Forrest fine because that meant they'd return to the motel. Once inside the small box of a room, Forrest kicked off his shoes and sprawled onto his bed, rolling onto his back so that his head rested in his hands. Jack sat on the edge of his own lumpy mattress, waiting for some sort of explanation. It wasn't long before Forrest said, “You've been great, Jack. Ashley was a little nervous, but I don't think your folks caught on. I tried to keep the conversation on the coral reefs, but to be honest, I hardly tracked what your mother was saying. Even though I think I asked the right questions, I kept imagining she could see inside my head and know that my mind was a million miles away. So, how did I do?”

Before Jack could answer, there was a soft knock on the door. When he opened it, Ashley hurried inside and jumped up to sit cross-legged on Jack's bed.

“I don't think I want to keep your secret anymore, Forrest. I mean, I'm not sure what to think about any of this,” she announced, just like that. “All the time Mom was talking about the hawksbill turtle and the coral reef, I kept remembering Cimmaron and jail and all the stuff you were saying to each other. Forrest, what's going on?”

For such a small person, Ashley could take up a lot of space. Her hair, which usually hung in smooth ringlets, now curled wildly because of the humidity; she had placed her elbows on her knees as if she were a pyramid of joints and angles, and she was leaning forward, expectantly.

Jack dropped down next to his sister and nodded in agreement. “Ashley's right,” he said. “Cimmaron said that lives hang in the balance. I know what I promised, but I'm not sure we should keep quiet.” Jack swallowed the last words, because he never broke his word if he could help it. But this thing had become bigger than any promise; if something went wrong, if someone died, Jack and Ashley would be a part of it. Somehow, between the Songbird restaurant and the motel, Jack's mind had become clear. It was too big a price.

Forrest pushed himself up and faced them. His bicep bulged as he rested on one elbow.

“You're right. I should tell you everything I know—I owe you that much. After that you can decide what to do.” He blew a breath between his teeth, then rolled off the bed, padding over to his duffel bag, which had been shoved into the corner. Unzipping the front pocket, he began to carefully remove layers of clothing. “I need to start at the beginning when I heard the message. No….” He stopped, looked at them for a moment, remembering. “I'll begin farther back than that. I took a cab from my boarding school to our Denver home. I wanted to get some soccer equipment that I'd left in my basement. Of course, I'm not supposed to leave the school campus without permission, but I simply called a cab and left. I have a key to my house.”

He rifled through the duffel before pulling out a folded piece of paper. “After I'd found my equipment, I stopped in my dad's den. It's magnificent—lots of mahogany and Tiffany lamps. His office has always been off limits to me because it is full of his private, important things, but I figured just this once, since he was in France…. In any event, the message light on his phone was blinking. I decided to play it. That's when I heard.”