Matt de la Peña - The Living

“Sorry about earlier,” Addie said.

Shy frowned like he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“My tantrum,” she said. “I just—I don’t want this to be it. And when I think about it too much I start freaking myself out.”

“I’m the same way,” Shy said. “I just keep it inside.”

She shook her head and stared at the setting sun like she was thinking about something.

They were both quiet for a few minutes, and Addie leaned her head back against the side and closed her eyes. Shy thought they were done talking for the night, but then she bumped his knee with hers and opened her eyes again. “I’ve been thinking about you and LasoTech, by the way,” she said. “It honestly doesn’t make sense that they were so concerned about you, not if all you did was see David going overboard.”

Now it was Shy’s turn to lean the back of his head against the side. “They had to think I did something to him, right? But that Bill guy told me they knew it was a suicide.”

“Yeah, that can’t be it,” Addie said. “I think they wanted to find out how David was acting before he jumped. Or maybe they thought he said something to you. Something that could get them in trouble.”

Shy thought about that. He fingered the ring in his pocket, trying to remember the exact conversation he’d had with the comb-over man. Again. The vacation homes. The cofounding of his own business—with Addie’s dad, he now knew. Tell me I’m fat.

“Can you think of anything important he might’ve said?” Addie asked.

“You think I haven’t been trying?” Shy asked.

It was bad enough to think about all this stuff on the ship, when he believed he’d be home in eight days and he’d never have to think about it again. But then something occurred to him and he turned to Addie. “This was kind of weird,” he said. “At one point he said I was looking at the face of corruption. You think he was talking about the whole company?”

Addie sat up. “Wait, he said that?”

“Yeah,” Shy said. “At the time I just figured he was drunk—”

“ Of course they were asking what he told you, then,” she interrupted. “I bet the company’s doing something illegal, and they thought David explained the whole thing to you. Like he was trying to clear his conscience before he jumped.”

“I see what you’re saying,” Shy said. “Too bad he didn’t explain anything to me.”

Addie shook her head. “I wonder what they did. What my dad did?”

Shy watched the sun as it slowly dropped behind the water to the west of their boat, taking a good amount of light with it. “He also said he was my betrayer,” Shy said, turning back to Addie. “Or something like that. Like he’d messed me over personally. Which obviously doesn’t make sense because I’d never seen the guy in my life.”

Addie stared at Shy for a few long seconds. “Maybe it has something to do with poor people, then.”

Shy frowned at her.

“No offense,” she told him.

“Yeah, right,” he said.

“What if they charge poor people way more than they’re supposed to?”

“But if they make hospital supplies,” Shy said, “they wouldn’t sell shit directly to people—”

“Or, wait,” Addie said, “maybe it’s some kind of insurance fraud. You can get in really big trouble for that.”

Shy didn’t know much about insurance fraud, but he was pretty sure Addie thought he was from some homeless family who picked through the trash for their dinner. Whatever. It didn’t even matter anymore. “Or maybe your dad’s company was just being paranoid,” he said.

“God,” Addie said, staring at the palms of her hands. “What if my entire life was stolen? My house, my car, my school. Imagine if all of it was paid for with fraud money?”

Shy realized how hard this conversation must be for Addie. She had no idea if her dad was dead or alive, and now they were talking about him possibly being a criminal. He was about to make a comment about that when Addie climbed to her knees suddenly and squinted, like she was looking at something in the distance.

“What is it?” Shy said, pushing up from the side, too.

She pointed directly in front of their boat. “I think I see something.”

Shy’s whole body started tingling as he scanned the darkening horizon, hoping to find land. What he saw was far away, but it definitely wasn’t land. The longer he stared, the clearer it became, the dusky sky maintaining just enough light to see. “Is that a boat?” he said, turning to Addie. “That looks like a boat.”

“I think it’s a boat,” she said, her face now lit up with excitement.

Shy stood and sloshed across the boat to the supply cabinet, where he flung open the door and grabbed the flare gun.

There were four flares left. Shy loaded the gun and stood up. He knew from training to fire the first one straight into the air, then follow with another, five seconds later, so that any potential rescuers would see where the first flare had come from.

He aimed the gun at the sky and fired.

The flame shot up above them, and Shy turned his attention to the distant boat.

“Over here!” Addie shouted, waving her arms.

Come on, Shy thought as he hurried to load the gun with a second flare. In the distance, however, the boat just floated there.

He aimed the gun above his head and fired a second time. Watched the glowing ball of fire arc across the dim sky, then fall toward the water, where it landed in a soundless splash, maybe twenty yards from them. It fizzled into a tiny puff of smoke that lifted off the water and drifted apart.

Still nothing from the boat.

“Should we go to them ?” Addie asked.

Shy stared ahead. There was no way they hadn’t heard or seen the flares. What were they waiting for? Or was it someone who didn’t want to help? He glanced down at the small amount of water they had left. There was no choice. They had to go.

“Hand me the oar,” he told Addie.

She reached down next to her feet, held it out to Shy, and he hurried to the front of the boat.

The closer they got, the more it became clear. They were definitely approaching a boat. But it was just sitting there. He ignored the bad feeling in his stomach and kept digging through the water with his oar. Every now and then Addie would call out to the boat, to try and get some kind of response; otherwise they kept quiet as Shy moved them through the calm ocean.

Soon they were right in front of it.

It was a brown motorboat, about twice the size of their lifeboat. The engine turned off. A cabin underneath the surface with tinted windows and “Number 220” written on the side. There was no sign of anyone on board.

“Looks like it’s abandoned,” Addie said.

Shy called out toward the boat: “Hello? Anyone in there?”

Nothing.

Addie pushed her hair out of her face. “Why would an abandoned boat be way out here?”

“The tsunamis might’ve torn it away from its dock.” Shy pulled the oar from the water and let their momentum carry them toward the motorboat. “Maybe we’re closer to land than we realize.”

“God,” Addie said. “The tsunamis. What if the entire island’s underwater?”

“We’re not gonna think about that,” Shy told her as he reached out for the front end of the motorboat to lessen the impact. Still, the lifeboat crashed into the bow of the thing. Shy grabbed the metal bar extending off the motorboat and called out “Hello?”

Still no answer.

“You coming with me?” Shy asked Addie.

She shook her head. “I’m waiting here.”

Shy reached down for the length of rope he’d grabbed out of the supply cabinet and tied the two boats together. Then he stepped onto the jagged side of the lifeboat, balancing carefully, and pulled himself up onto the bigger boat. He walked around the perfectly dry deck, having no idea what to expect. He saw two empty life jackets. A folding chair on its side. He opened the tackle box near the stairs. Instead of fishing gear, a few shattered vials lay in the top tray, which seemed strange. It also smelled a little like smoke.