Matt de la Peña - The Living

“That’s how the blanquitas like to flirt, dummy.” Carmen grinned a little and gave Shy a quick shot in the ribs. “You should go for it, dude. Isn’t that every Otay Mesa guy’s wet dream? To land an anorexic blonde?”

The girls started laughing.

“Whatever,” Shy said. He was getting a little tired of people laughing at him. Before he could think up some kind of comeback about Carmen and rich law school dudes, the ship emcee came back on over the loudspeaker:

“ Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just learned some unfortunate news. The storm is advancing toward our location more rapidly than we’d originally anticipated. As a precaution, the captain is asking that we evacuate all large dining areas at this time.”

Everyone in the dining room fell completely silent, staring at each other.

Shy was suddenly having a hard time getting a deep breath.

“The smaller cafés and shops will remain open. And staff members will be available for full cabin service. We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, ladies and gentlemen. But I repeat: we must close all large dining areas, effective immediately. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Shy turned back to Toni and Carmen, whose grins had vanished.

“I’ve never heard of them clearing the dining rooms before,” Carmen said. “Do you think something could actually happen to the ship?”

“There’s no way,” Shy assured her. Secretly, though, he was worried about the exact same thing.

“What am I supposed to do?” Toni said. “Just tell them to leave? This is so scary.” She hurried after another hostess, who was walking out onto the dining room floor.

Shy watched the buzzing passengers get up from their tables and start moving toward the exits. He spotted the oilman, still sitting in his seat, gripping an empty glass of wine. Now all the seats around him were empty.

Someone grabbed ahold of Shy’s arm.

He was surprised to turn and find Supervisor Franco standing there. “Come with me,” his boss said. “There is much to do before we pass through the eye of this storm.”

“But they said Lido’s closed, sir.”

Franco shook his head. “Not for us, it isn’t.”

Shy turned and found Carmen staring at him.

It was the first time he’d ever seen fear in her eyes.

They moved quickly through the atrium, past packs of well-dressed passengers hurrying back to their cabins, past one of the live orchestras breaking down their instruments, Franco listing all the things that had to be done before the actual storm hit: “…and every deck chair must be put into supply room. Every umbrella. The towel stand and busser stations. All tables and chairs of the café.”

Shy nodded, trying to concentrate on what he was hearing. But seeing worry on his supervisor’s face made him worry, too. What if the ship was in actual danger?

“Heavy covers on the pool and Jacuzzi. The main stage must be locked completely. Everything just like in training, you understand. Ariana is in charge.”

“Yes, sir,” Shy said, trying to remember what they’d gone over during training. He should have listened better. But it never crossed his mind that something might actually happen.

They moved past Shoeshine, his head down as he worked a man’s shoe with his rag. Shy glanced at the guy sitting in the chair, reading the ship’s daily bulletin, sipping a cocktail. He didn’t seem scared at all. Neither did Shoeshine. Shy tried to decide how scared he was. The ship was huge, seemingly indestructible. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe his grandma had been right to worry.

Franco stopped a few feet from the Lido Deck door and turned to Shy. “When you are finished here, please, Shy, you must do special task for me. Take down all umbrellas on Honeymoon Deck. Baby trees, too. There can be nothing left outside.”

“Yes, sir,” Shy answered, remembering this part of training. They’d only practiced clearing the Honeymoon Deck during the emergency phase. Which meant the storm was an emergency. And Shy should be scared.

Franco keyed open the supply closet near the automatic glass doors, reached in for a yellow slicker. He handed it to Shy, saying: “I’m trusting the Honeymoon Deck only for you because it may be dangerous winds up there. And I know you will be extremely careful.”

“I’ll be careful,” Shy said, slipping into the slicker.

Supervisor Franco took Shy by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. “This storm is making you afraid?”

“A little, sir.” Shy glanced over his supervisor’s shoulder, saw a couple dozen staff members already rushing around the Lido Deck in the rain. Carrying chairs and tables. He spotted Ariana, Franco’s second in command.

“Believe me,” Franco said. “I have been in worse storms and everything is okay. Okay?”

Shy nodded, trying to decide if this was something his supervisor was supposed to say or if he genuinely believed it.

Franco patted Shy on the back, said: “Everything we do is for precaution, you understand. The weather report says it will be sunny again by morning. So only this problem is for tonight.” He forced a smile.

Shy knew it wasn’t the best timing, but he had to at least bring up what happened to his cabin. “Sir, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, of course.”

“The reason I stopped by your office earlier—”

Franco raised a hand to cut Shy off. “Yes, yes, I understand about this, Shy. A man from LasoTech entered your room this afternoon. I’m sorry I did not explain, but we were not expecting weather. Don’t worry, he found nothing.”

“What’s LasoTech?” Shy asked. “And what were they looking for?”

“It is a main sponsor for Paradise Cruise Lines. Tomorrow we will talk more, okay? For now we must hurry.”

Shy stepped up to the glass doors, watched them slide open, then he stepped out into the growing wind and rain. He was surprised Franco knew what had happened in his cabin. Why hadn’t he said anything earlier, when Shy was outside his office? And why would a company go through his and Rodney’s stuff?

The sky was dark gray. The wind pressed Shy’s slicker against his body. He squinted and made his way to the two closest chairs. He folded up the head and feet, tucked one under each arm, and started for the large storage room. He had to put Franco’s words out of his head. He could worry about it once he got back inside. For now he needed to concentrate on securing the deck.

Franco was right about the wind near the top of the ship. It was far more powerful. Shy had to lean into it in order to move out onto the Honeymoon Deck. The rain was now falling at an odd angle, pelting him in the face under his slicker hood. He cupped a hand over his eyes and went right up to the railing and peered over the side.

In the morning the sea had been perfectly calm and beautiful, like a postcard. Now it was a thousand hostile waves crested in white foam and crashing into one another. The massive ship moaned as it pitched and surged under Shy’s shell tops—the bow bucking slowly into the air and then falling, bucking and then falling. Thick black clouds hung so low in the sky it felt like the ship was traveling through a rain tunnel.

Shy watched it all in awe for several minutes, the world lining up exactly with his insides. He’d never been a true believer like his grandma, but he closed his eyes now and asked whoever might be listening for Miguel to be okay. And his mom and sis. And himself.

Please, just let me get back to them.

I have to get back to them.

Then Shy pushed away from the railing and set about his work.