Seven Tears into the Sea (24 page)

Jill looked at her, aghast.

“Well, it wasn't,” Mandi said, pushing her sunglasses farther up her nose. “Jill knew she could trust me to keep quiet, and I did.”

“So, it's you I can't trust?” I asked Jill. My tone was probably kind of ironic, since Jill always acted like she knew what was best for everyone.

“You can, but—” Jill pursed her lips in this disapproving way. “I'm not perfect, you know.”

“Who said you were?” I snapped. “You weren't even happy for me about Jesse.”

“We told you—” Jill began.

“No. Oh, no. You guys told me you thought I'd go off with him, but I didn't. I didn't choose him over you!” I shouted, making a mother walking past glance at us. “So, really, why aren't you excited for me?”

“Well, if you hadn't noticed, I'm too busy to have a social life,” Jill said, putting a hand on one hip.

“So what?” I asked. “So I can't have a boyfriend? And what about you?” I asked Mandi. “Jesse is absolutely the fairy-tale kind of guy you drool over. And we were crowned King and Queen! Why aren't you just”—I searched for a word—“ecstatic?”

“Well, if it were me, I would be,” Mandi admitted quietly.

“Then stop settling for losers,” Jill said, nudging her.

“She's right,” I rushed in.

“Look, those kind of guys are attracted to me,” she said. “I can't help it.”

“You can help it,” I told her. “You've got more going for you—”

“And you—” Jill interrupted, turning on me again.

“Yeah,” I said, throwing my empty cup into a trash can with way too much energy. “What?”

“I
am
sorry,” Jill said, sounding sincere. “I'm glad you've got a boyfriend who's kind of,” she shrugged, “out there.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said.

“No, I mean it. It's a step in the right direction. You've always tried too hard to fit in and be unexceptional—”

My jaw dropped. It really did.

“You don't want this fight to be over, do you?” I asked.

“Gwen,” Mandi said. “She's kind of right. Like, you quit diving when you were getting really good and could have won the state championship. What was that about?”

“Not—not that I didn't want to stand out,” I insisted. “And I wasn't going to be state champion.”

“How do you know?” Jill demanded.

“Because I wasn't brave enough,” I said, knowing it was the truth. “You have to do harder and higher and—”

They started disagreeing. Loudly. But I could hardly
hear them. Suddenly I thought of Mirage Point. I shook my head, as if I could get rid of the image.

“So maybe we should all go see the shrink,” Mandi mused, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “We're underachievers and Jill's an overachiever. Yeah? Is that what you're saying?” she asked Jill.

“I don't know anything,” Jill said. “Except I'm just sorry.”

I looked down at a crack in the cobblestones where a weed had sent up a pale green shoot. “Circle of arms, circle of strife, circle of blooms, circle of life.” Maybe the Celts had nailed it a thousand years ago. Maybe life was that simple: friends, fights and flowers. You got past the hurt and kept going. Except for the sounds of the fair and the swish of tires as a guy in a flashy bike jersey pedaled past.

I looked up as Jill reached for my hand. I took it.

“I really am sorry. You can trust me,” Jill apologized again.

I squeezed her hand as Mandi grabbed my other one.

“And me,” Mandi said. “I can keep a secret. You just have to, you know, hold me by the ears and stare into my eyes and make sure I understand.”

“Mandi,” Jill said in a cautioning tone and our clasped hands loosened.

“I know, I know, but low self-esteem works for me
as a, you know—humor thing,” Mandi said.

“Okay,” Jill and I said together then we gave our hands a last squeeze, released, and suddenly I was pretty sure this was something the three of us would get over.

I was sure of it when Mandi grabbed Jill's arm to drag her back toward the car, but not before sticking out her tongue and saying to me, “Now witch, go find your King of Whatever and have your happily ever after. And when we see you again? Don't spare the details!”

I knew something was wrong when I turned off the highway and onto my road.

Jesse was running right toward me. He was wet and bare chested, and his face was set in a high-anxiety frown.

I shoved open the driver's door and got out.

A screaming screech sound stopped me.

“What is it?” I shouted at him, but I knew. That scream was Gumbo's.

“I'm sorry,” he shouted at me, over his shoulder. Then he was running to my cottage.

A brown fishing net was suspended over my front door. It jounced and swung, full of a furious and terrified Gumbo. How long had she been there? What had been done to my cat while I'd been strolling and talking with my friends?

I barely noticed the swallows' nest shattered all over the deck, as I struggled to figure out how to get Gumbo down.

If Jesse hadn't been there, I would have dragged a chair from the kitchen table. The net was fastened to the porch rafters, seven feet high, but he jumped up and snagged the fastening.

“Don't let her loose out here!” I warned.

The look he flashed me would have been terrifying if I hadn't been focused on Gumbo. “She'll run away.”

“She likes me,” he managed, as a claw barely missed his cheek.

“She doesn't like anyone now,” I said.

“Don't tell me what it's like to be in a net. Just get the door open and watch out!”

I did, and as soon as he'd wrestled the net and Gumbo inside, I ran around checking windows so that she couldn't escape.

I was upstairs when I heard Gumbo's first frantic circuit of the living room. Something fell and broke on the wooden floor. Then there was silence.

“She got herself free,” Jesse shouted up to me.

“Is she okay?” I asked, but Jesse didn't answer. He kicked the empty net toward the door with more hatred than I'd ever seen directed toward an inanimate object. “It was Zack, wasn't it?”

“Can't you smell it?” Jesse's face was brown-red with
fury. I wasn't sure what he meant. But I knew Zack had been in my house. Zack hated me for some reason. Maybe he'd never forgiven me for helping him when he couldn't help himself.

Thelma had warned that helpless creatures weren't safe around Zack McCracken, and he'd just proven it. Gumbo was lucky to be alive.

“He's got to stop this,” Jesse said.

I noticed the sunrise shell, broken on the floor. In her wild escape Gumbo had knocked it off the table. I picked up both halves and set them back where they belonged.

“Do you want to come with me to talk with him?” I knew I wouldn't have much effect on Zack, alone. “I bet he's working at the video arcade.”

I picked up my car keys and Jesse hurried after me, but I could tell something else was wrong.

“What?” I asked him, and then wanted, more than anything, to take it back. Jesse looked scared. I touched his cheek. “Don't go with me if—”

“It's cars I'm afraid of, not Zack. But if I swim, there may not be time. That's all.” He tossed his drying hair back from his eyes.

“I'm a pretty good driver.”

“All right,” he said, but I had to open the passenger door for him and fasten his seat belt. Even then, he said, “It's a very little car.”

When I turned the key in the ignition, before I even
put the Bug into reverse, he grabbed the window frame with one hand and the emergency brake with the other.

“I need to release this,” I told him cautiously. “And don't jerk it back on or you'll make us crash.”

Jesse nodded. When the car lurched and bumped away from the cottage, much rougher than usual, he crossed his arms over his bare chest. His eyes stayed closed all the way to Siena Bay.

The Bling Bling video arcade was dim. From what I could see, it was sort of a retro place, not like the mall arcades in Valencia. Instead of joystick and push-button games, there was pinball and stuff like that, and it was too dark for a bright June day.

I was trying to decide what to say, when Zack spotted us.

“He's got to stop this,” Jesse said again.

Still wearing his wine-stained T-shirt, Zack squared off, making sure Perch and Roscoe, loitering nearby, saw us coming. He signaled for them to follow, but Roscoe hung back.

Zack turned and snarled something at him. I couldn't hear what, but I heard Roscoe's reply.

“I seen that guy fight before.”

Perch hesitated too, and his weakness infuriated Zack. “Stay back with the babies, then.” He pushed Perch into a group of little kids who'd turned to gawk.

Then Zack came toward us.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he said, and guffawed.

Jesse closed the distance between them with a step so quick, all Zack could do was get his hand up and shove Jesse's chest.

Jesse stood firm.

“You really scared that cat,” Jesse said quietly, but there was menace in his tone.

Zack used both hands to shove Jesse again.

“I see you brought your little Summer Queen to cry, so I won't hurt you too bad,” Zack taunted.

I gasped as Zack threw a punch, but Jesse leaned to one side, dodging Zack's fist so that the swing looked big and clumsy.

“Wow! Cool!” A kid cheered as, behind him, two warriors battled endlessly on a screen.

Zack and Jesse ignored everything but each other.

“Just say you'll stop hurting things,” Jesse told him. Zack lurched at him again, and this time Jesse grabbed Zack's arm and pulled him off balance, sending him headlong into a flashing video game.

“You guys!” I yelled, but it was way too late.

Zack was fighting scared, but Roscoe and Perch didn't see it. They cheered him on as, blond hair flapping, Zack threw himself at Jesse. This time Jesse didn't step away. With a sound like a growl, he rammed his shoulder into Zack's, slamming him against another video game.

Face down, Zack's feet slipped, and blood smeared the floor as he tried to get up. He lifted his mouth clear enough to say, “Those seals are so dead!”

I expected Jesse to attack him then, but he knew Zack was beaten. Now he made sure Zack knew, by not letting him up. While he held one palm in the middle of Zack's back, Jesse talked adamantly.

I couldn't hear what he said, but while I strained to listen, I heard someone calling my name.

“Gwendolyn?” Mr. Wharton squinted into the dark arcade. “Is that you?”

If Nana heard about this—

Jesse had taught Zack a lesson. Everything should have been okay, but this wasn't one of Mandi's fairy tales. Jesse would pay for doing what was right, and so would the sea lions.

But Mr. Wharton was calling me again.

Nana,
I thought, remembering how weak she'd looked this morning.

The banging and slamming in the video arcade had stopped, but I could still hear Jesse talking as I rushed out into the sunlit street.

“Mr. Wharton, is anything wrong?”

“I wouldn't say that precisely, but your grandmother told us that if we saw you in the village, we were to let you know she could use your help with tea this afternoon.”

“Of course,” I said.

“But to tell you the truth, Gwendolyn?” Mr. Wharton confided. “I think your grandmother is a little weary after last night.”

I looked back at the arcade, then at Mr. Wharton. “Weary?”

“When we left following breakfast, Mrs. Cook had nodded off in the parlor, and she didn't wish us a good day or even seem to hear us leave. Somehow, that strikes me as simply out of character.”

I had to go. Jesse could handle this on his own. It didn't sound like Nana could.

M
OONSHINE
(Achillea Yarrow)

B
eloved by butterflies and bees, this flower is named for the great Greek warrior Achilles. According to myth, this yarrow grew from the rust Achilles scraped from his own spear, and he used it to heal his soldiers' wounds. In love charms, it allows the harvester to glow like a star through the darkness. Strewn across a threshold, it keeps out evil. Covered with fluffy white or brilliant yellow foliage, it is stronger than it looks.

My front right tire was flat when I swerved into the driveway in front of Sea Horse Inn ten minutes later. Now I remembered running over the glass on my way here. I guess I'd had a slow leak for days, and though I didn't get a ticket driving home, I deserved one.

I left the Bug at a run, only to collide with Nana as she hurried onto the front porch to meet me.

“Gwendolyn, what's happened?” she asked, steadying my arm.

“Mr. Wharton said you needed me. You were ‘weary,' he said. Is your leg all right? Why did you let me leave after breakfast if—”