The Islanders (7 page)

“Why?” Nina asked while her mind whirled.

“Why what?”

“Why don't they have kids?” Nina pressed, as if it had become the most important question in the world.

“How would I know?” Claire said, giving her a frustrated look. “Maybe they don't like kids, or maybe one of them has some physical problem. Or maybe they're still waiting.”

“They're too old.”

“Aunt E.'s only forty, I think. It's still possible.”

“I have to go,” Nina said. “I have to read to Benjamin.”

“Tell him hello,” Claire said, sounding a tiny bit wistful.

“Yeah,” Nina said. “I have to go right now.” She ran from the house and didn't stop till she reached the circle. There she slumped against the cold marble war monument and labored to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding.

He was coming. She couldn't tell herself any longer that it had all been a false alarm.

She couldn't read to Benjamin, not now. He would know from her voice that something was wrong. He would ask her, or else he would tell Zoey to ask her, and Zoey would want to know.

But Zoey could never know. No one could.

He had told her that so many times, and she accepted it—no one would ever believe her.

 

Ah, yes, dream number three. Dream number three is one I've had several times. It's extremely embarrassing the way dreams are sometimes. Extremely strange. I guess all I can say is, hey, it's just a dream.

This dream starts out like two. My mom is dressing me in a cute little dress with a ridiculous bow on the front. Only this time I'm getting dressed for a party, a grown-up party; you know, where I'm the official cute kid. It's not much of a party from my point of view. It mostly involves staring up at massively tall adults, so tall that their heads aren't even clearly visible. They just seem to disappear in the mist.

Did I mention it's kind of foggy in this dream? It is. And dark again, like a grainy old picture. And all the adults are tall, like redwoods or something, going up and up until they seem to converge.

And I'm feeling weird, like I'm drunk. A drunk eleven-year-old in a bad dress. Everything kind of veering like the old Batman reruns, where things were always at an angle.

Anyway, in the dream I get tired, so tired I almost can't walk anymore. And then I see the chair.

I climb up on the chair, which is really tall, so tall it's like
climbing a mountain, only suddenly there I am, sitting, and I'm dangling my legs over the edge of the seat, way above the ground.

Which is when the embarrassing part comes in.

I suddenly realize all the tall redwood people are staring at me with these ax-murderer, blood-hungry-vampire eyes. Staring and staring, and I squirm, being understandably uneasy.

And then I realize I can feel the seat under my behind.

And then I realize I'm not wearing my dumb dress after all. I'm naked and starting to cry like a little baby.

And I never should have tried to go to the adult party, and I should have known better, and I knew I would be punished severely because it's my fault I'm there. My fault for being stupid.

When I wake up, I feel like throwing up.

And I don't think I don't understand this dream, and the others, because I do. I know what it all means, although I wish I didn't. I know the cause. I know. I know the dreams and the reality.

I just don't know how to make either of them go away.

“IT'S NEW. IT'S CALLED POLYNESIAN
Surprise,” Nina said, dragging her fork through the slimy mess on her lunch tray the next day. “I think it involves pork. And either bean sprouts or white worms. I'm betting worms.”

“Thanks for making me sick,” Aisha said.

“Based on your vast and superior knowledge as seniors, are Polynesians more likely to cook with sprouts or worms?” Nina asked Zoey and Aisha.

“Why don't you just bring your lunch if you're going to complain about it every day?” Claire asked, taking the remaining vacant seat.

“Tradition,” Nina said promptly. “I like complaining about the food.” She managed a tight smile, though her sister's voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard to her.

“What is it with guys?” Zoey asked, suddenly changing the subject. “I mean, would it really kill Lucas to go along with this whole homecoming thing?”

“Why do you go out with guys if you're just going to complain about them every day?” Nina asked, mimicking Claire.

“They're like food, my child,” Aisha said in a low, husky voice, tossing her hair and closing her eyes to slits in a parody of worldly wisdom. “A necessary evil.”

Claire shot Nina a mocking look. “Some people manage to do without. Sort of a starvation diet.”

“And some people gorge on anything they can get,” Nina shot back, more angrily than she'd intended.

“One point each,” Aisha said. “A draw.”

“I think all guys are at least partly jerks,” Zoey said.

“Oh, it's worse than that,” Aisha said. “All guys are
mostly
jerks.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Nina asked Aisha, glad to divert attention from herself. Her leg was bouncing up and down under the table and she couldn't stop it. She felt wired and edgy. She hadn't slept well last night.

“No, not trouble,” Aisha said. “Everything is great between Christopher and I.”

“Me,” Zoey said.

“Me what?” Aisha asked.

“Between Christopher and
me
”

“No way,” Aisha argued.

“Yes. It's me.”

“Who gives a rat's ass, Zoey?” Nina demanded. “Either way, things are fine, right?”

“Um, hi.”

All four girls turned to look up at a tall, somewhat frightened-looking guy.

“Hi, John,” Zoey said.

“Um, hi, Zoey. Hi, Claire. Hi, Aisha.” He winced and made a face, almost as if he were in pain. “Hi, Nina.”

Nina made a mechanical half-smile. John Blount sat a desk away in her English class. “What's up, John? We were just this second having a fascinating discussion of grammar.”

“Um . . . could I, uh . . . talk to you?”

“Sure, I still allow the little people to speak directly to me on occasion,” Nina said.

“Like, over there?” John pointed.

Nina made a groaning noise deep in her throat. This had all the signs of something embarrassing. And this was not the day for it. “Nobody touch my Polynesian Surprise.” She got up and followed John a few feet away, hoping against hope that he just wanted to borrow her homework or something.

“There's like a football game tonight,” John said, digging his hands deep into his pockets.

“Thank you for letting me in on that, John.”

He laughed, then blushed. “Do you want to, like, go with me?”

Nina cringed, for herself and for him. She hated saying no, not that it came up all that often. “Actually, um, John, I wasn't going to go to the game.”

“That's all right,” he said quickly. “We could do something else.”

“It's nice of you to offer, but I don't think so,” Nina said, beginning to feel the electric edge of panic.

“Oh.”

“Look, it was sweet of you to ask, all right?”

“So you're saying you don't want to go out with me?”

“I guess that sums it up,” Nina said.

John's face instantly turned angry. “You think because your dad is rich I'm not cool enough for you?” he demanded, his voice rising. “Or is it because Zoey's your
real
boyfriend?”

He turned and walked away. Nina watched him go for a second, extremely reluctant to have to face her friends, who had, without any doubt, heard John's parting shot.

She drew a deep, steadying breath and turned back to them, sliding heavily into her seat. She covered her eyes with one hand. “What was it we were saying about guys being jerks?”

“I used to think he was a nice guy,” Zoey said angrily.

“He is a nice guy,” Nina said flatly. The edginess and panic were gone now, replaced by disgust for the way she had handled things. “He just thought I was trying to embarrass him, I guess.”

“Hey, if he wants to ask you out, he's got to accept the possibility the answer will be no,” Aisha said.

“Or the absolute certainty,” Claire said.

Nina dug her fork viciously into the Polynesian Surprise. “Look, can we just drop it? John's cool; it was my fault.”

“It was not your fault,” Aisha said, outraged. “Tell her, Zoey.”

“He had no right to dump on you,” Zoey agreed.

“I could have said yes and then he wouldn't have said that, all right? So it's my fault, too,” Nina said. She twisted the fork and bit her lip. She felt like pounding something. Screw the principal she wanted a cigarette. She began digging in her purse.

“I can't believe I'm hearing this prefeminist
blame the woman
b.s. from you, Nina,” Aisha said. “What are you going to tell me next? That it was your fault because you lured him on with your short skirt?”

“I'm not wearing a skirt,” Nina muttered, still looking for her cigarettes.

“That's just an example of the kind of crap you're saying,” Aisha ranted, waving her hand dismissively. “Hamster Boy there had no reason to say that. Or drag Zoey into it.”

“Sorry,” Nina told Zoey.

“You're hopeless,” Aisha said. “She's hopeless. It's a good thing you
don't
date, Nina. I mean, God, you'd be thinking it was your fault if you didn't want to do the old in-out on the first date. You have the right to say no without some guy calling you names.”

“Damn it, can we just drop this!” Nina's sudden explosion silenced everyone within twenty feet.

“Get a grip, Nina,” Claire said quietly.

Nina was on her feet. Her chair fell over backward, clattering noisily.
“You
get a damned grip, Claire. It's nobody's business, all right? I don't tell any of you what to do, so just leave me alone. It's not . . . It's my problem. Okay?”

“Okay, Nina,” Zoey said, in the kind of cautious voice people use to talk to lunatics and vicious dogs. “Come on, we didn't mean to upset you.”

“I'm not upset,” Nina said, suddenly feeling empty and deflated. “I'm. . .” She raised her hands helplessly. “I'll see you guys on the ferry.”

She turned and walked away, fighting the tears until she could find some private place to let them fall.

CLAIRE HAD BROUGHT A CHANGE
of clothing to wear to the football game that night. Extracurricular activities were always difficult for island kids, given the inflexible ferry schedule. Games started at six thirty, which meant she would have had to take the four o' clock home, arriving at four twenty-five, run to her house, shower, change, then run back and catch the five ten returning to the mainland. Rather than getting forty-five rushed minutes on the island, she usually brought extra clothes over with her for dates and games and changed in the girls' locker room.

When she entered the locker room, she heard laughing voices—Zoey and Aisha, also changing. Zoey was drying her hair and yelling over the noise.

“You mean Jake told her to go away?” Zoey said. “You actually heard this?”

“Cross my heart!” Aisha yelled back. “At practice on Wednesday.”

Claire faded behind a bank of lockers and waited.

Zoey turned off the hair dryer. “Excuse me?
Wednesday?
And you're telling me on Friday? Friday afternoon? Sometimes I despair for you, Eesh. You'll never make a great gossip. Nina would have told me within eight seconds.”

“It didn't occur to me. I do have my own life to lead.”

“And she's still going after him,” Zoey said, marveling. “That has to be a first for Claire. Normally, all she has to do with a guy is look at him and he's ready to rip zipper.”

“Well, I haven't known her as long as you have.”

“Take my word for it. When she was in sixth grade, she had tenth-grade guys after her.”

“Huh. Let me smell that perfume. I don't see why guys would be all that crazy over her. That's nice. Let me use some.”

“Hmm, let's see. She has a perfect body, great hair, a beautiful face. She's very smart and manages to have that whole air-of-mystery thing going—you know, dark, mysterious eyes, the way she walks and all.”

“Plus, she's kind of a bitch,” Aisha added with a laugh. “Christopher says that's why he likes me.”

“She's not really,” Zoey said, sounding thoughtful. “Claire just lives in her own world. She's very . . . I don't know the right word—”

“Superior? Arrogant? Snotty? Condescending? Don't do your eyebrows that way. Watch me—like this, it's easier.”

Claire smiled wryly. It was always useful to hear how other people saw you.

“. . . ow, damn, that hurt.”

“But it works better,” Aisha said.

Claire crept back to the locker room door. She opened it noisily and let it slam shut. Instantly Zoey and Aisha fell silent.

“Hi,” Claire said.

“Claire,” Aisha said, “we were just talking about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” Claire said mildly.

“Why, are there
bad
things?”

“Have you seen Nina?” Zoey asked Claire.

“She went back home,” Claire said.

“Huh,” Zoey said. “I thought she was thinking of coming to the game for a change.”

Claire raised an eyebrow. “After that scene at lunch, I don't think so.”

“That shouldn't upset her,” Zoey said unconvincingly. “No one noticed. Besides, people expect Nina to do surprising things. She shouldn't be embarrassed.”

“Yes, she should,” Claire said. “Not that I want to be snotty or condescending, but I think she needs to learn to deal with members of the opposite sex.”

She was pleased to see Aisha and Zoey exchange an uneasy look.

“Maybe she doesn't like guys,” Aisha suggested.

“Eesh!” Zoey chided.

“Look, it wouldn't bother me,” Aisha said. “I'm open-minded. I'm just saying maybe Nina's gay.”

“She's not gay,” Claire said. “She's just weird.”

“Are you sure?” Aisha pressed. “You two aren't the closest sisters on earth. Maybe it's possible she's keeping it a secret from you, too.”

“I know plenty of other girls who don't date,” Zoey said.

“Don't get defensive, Zo,” Aisha said, laughing. “Even if she is a lesbian, it doesn't mean she has the hots for you. Although . . . you two are pretty close.”

“You know, you sound like a guy, Aisha,” Claire said. “Every time you tell a guy no—no to anything—the first brilliant theory they come up with is that you're gay. It never, ever occurs to the guy that maybe he's just a toad.”

“Not every guy is a toad,” Aisha said. “But Nina always says no. Has she ever had a relationship that lasted more than one date? Has she ever mentioned being interested in a guy?”

“Look, Nina's just Nina, all right?” Zoey said hotly. “She has the right to be however she wants.”

“She's not gay,” Claire said. “So you two can rest easy. I think there is a guy she's interested in.”

Claire was gratified by the way both Zoey and Aisha stared at her, jaws open.

“Who?” Aisha asked.

“She would have told me,” Zoey said.

Claire smiled. “Look, I've told you all I can without indulging in gossip. You wouldn't want me to gossip about my own sister behind her back, would you?”

“Why doesn't she go out with this guy, then?” Aisha asked.

Claire shrugged. “It's all one-way. I don't think he even knows she's alive.”

“Poor Nina,” Zoey said thoughtfully.

“Oh, well,” Claire said lightly. “I guess unrequited love happens to everyone sooner or later.” She turned on the water and began splashing her face. “Even to girls with perfect bodies and that whole air-of-mystery thing.”

“Of course she heard us talking about her; she was toying with us,” Aisha grumbled. “You think
air of mystery
is just a phrase that happened to pop into her mind? Now she thinks I think she's arrogant.”

“She thinks I think she's very smart and has a perfect body. She'll think I'm jealous of her,” Zoey complained.

They emerged from the gym, and Aisha glanced at her
watch. “We have time to kill. You want to go downtown?”

“We could get my folks' real car and drive out to the mall,” Zoey suggested.

“Do you have the keys?”

“Sure. I can take the car anytime, as long as I'm sure my parents are staying on the island. I'll give my mom a quick call, then we hit the garage and get in a couple hours of shoppage.”

Fifteen minutes later they were on the road toward the mall. “Do you think Claire was telling the truth about Nina?” Aisha asked. She didn't want to press the issue too much because she knew Zoey was sensitive about it.

“Who knows with Claire?” Zoey said.

“Nina would have told you if she was hot for some guy,” Aisha said.

“Nina can't keep secrets,” Zoey agreed. “But by the same token, she could never keep secret about being gay if she were. Personally, I think Nina's just . . . original.”

Aisha nodded, unconvinced, as they cruised the mall parking lot.

“Is that a space?” Zoey asked.

“No, handicapped.”

“How about—”

“Motorcycle.”

“There,” Zoey said, quickly pulling into an open space.
“Hey, isn't that Christopher?”

Aisha followed the direction Zoey was pointing. Just visible through several parked cars was Christopher, passing out of sight. Aisha opened the door quickly and stood up, ready to yell to him. But then she stopped herself.

Zoey climbed out, too. “There he is,” she said, “see?”

“Yes, I see,” Aisha said. She met Zoey's puzzled stare. “I also see that girl he's following.” She had a blond ponytail that fell straight down her back to the middle of a behind that hung half out of a pair of Daisy Dukes.

“They're just walking in the same direction,” Zoey said.

“And now?” Christopher had drawn even with the girl and was smiling. The girl smiled back and said something that made Christopher laugh.

“Now he's just saying hi,” Zoey said.

“Uh-huh. Come on. But let's stay back.”

“You want to follow him?” Zoey sounded shocked. “You want to spy on him?”

“No way. But we did come here to go to the mall, and if we just happen to all be walking in the same direction—”

“So we're not spying?”

“No.”

“But we should be careful not to let him see us?” Zoey asked.

“You're very quick, Zoey, anyone ever tell you that?” Aisha set off, edging along the lines of parked cars, watching as Christopher opened the glass door of the mall entrance and held it open for the girl.

Christopher and the girl disappeared from view inside. Aisha, with Zoey alongside, entered a minute behind him. Christopher and the girl were standing just a few dozen paces inside. Aisha grabbed Zoey's arm and pulled her behind a pod of telephones.

She peeked cautiously around the side. The quality of Christopher's smile had changed, becoming subtler. Worse yet, the girl was playing with her hair, pulling the ludicrously long ponytail forward as if displaying it for Christopher.

Aisha slid back behind the phones. “Did you see that?” she asked Zoey.

“I wasn't looking,” Zoey whispered.

“She's playing with her hair and smiling,” Aisha said.

Zoey winced. “That scrote.”

Zoey peeked cautiously around the side. “She's gone now,” she whispered. “Christopher's over at the ATM getting some money out.”

“You're sure she's gone?” Aisha asked.

“I didn't see her.”

“Check again,” Aisha said.

“Okay.” Zoey leaned out again. “Now they're both gone.”

“He's probably gone after her,” Aisha said bitterly.

“I'm sure it wasn't anything. Maybe he knows her from somewhere. Besides, she left first, right? So it couldn't have been anything.”

Aisha narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh.”

“Look, Eesh, you can't get jealous every time Christopher talks to a member of the opposite sex.”

“They were grinning like baboons and she was playing with her hair,” Aisha snapped. “I'm not blind.”

“Maybe she just has a habit of playing with her hair.”

“And maybe
he
just has a habit of trying to pick up on girls at the mall.” She bit her lip, trying without much success to relax and stop the spiral of irrational anger that was building inside her.

“Did you guys ever say it was supposed to be a steady thing?” Zoey asked.

The question took Aisha by surprise. “We never said much of anything,” she admitted. “But, I mean, I assumed . . .”

“Talk to him about it at the game tonight,” Zoey suggested. “Straighten it out. Maybe all he needs is for you to ask him flat out whether you guys are going to make it monogamous. Talk before you get all upset, okay?”

“I'll talk,” Aisha said, “but I'll go ahead and start getting upset just in case.”