R. Stine - Red Rain

“Not just a connection. I can’t describe it. It’s something like love, I guess. I mean, love at first sight. No. That’s crazy. But I just feel. I don’t know what I feel. I just feel I could be a good mother to them and-”

“Look how mixed up you are, Lea. At least let me do some research. That’s what I do, you know. Let me see what I can find out before you take them home with you.”

But Lea, not persuaded, couldn’t wait to talk to Mark.

“Mark, it’s what we wanted.”

“You’re breaking up, Lea. Are you on your cell?”

“No. The national guard set up some special lines. I had to wait in line an hour. No one has phones or internet or anything.”

“I read online they’re working on it. They’ve got the coast guard and the national guard and-”

“I only have a few minutes, darling. We don’t have time to discuss the news. These two boys-”

“You can’t just snatch them away from their home. I don’t understand-”

“I’m not snatching them. They don’t have a home. They lost everything here. Their family. Everything. They’re adorable, Mark. They will fit in fine in Sag Harbor. They-”

“I know you want a big family. You always said it. And we talked about adopting. But this is different, Lea. This is too weird. I mean, to come home with two strange boys. I don’t like it. I really don’t.”

“They’re not strange. They’re frightened and confused. But they’re so sweet, Mark. They-”

“There are laws, Lea. The authorities there in Le Chat Noir-”

“What authorities? There aren’t any. The island governor was killed in the hurricane. They found his body a few hours ago. There’s no government here. There’s no police. No offices. Nothing left.”

“Lea, I’m sorry, but I really think this is insane. I think-”

“Mark, I’m taking them to safety. You can’t imagine what it’s like here. It’s Hell. It’s really Hell. I’ve got to make sure these boys are safe. We can search for relatives after I bring them home. But I feel something for them, Mark. It was this instant thing. I can’t leave them here to die.”

“I suppose we could talk to people here. Immigration people? What country are they from?”

“Country? They’re from here. This island. They’re American. We don’t need immigration people.”

“I don’t want to do this, Lea. You’re upset. You’ve had a terrible scare. You’re not thinking clearly. You sound to me like you might be in a little bit of shock.”

“Stop it, Mark. I’m not in shock. These two boys need us. They-”

“But we don’t know anything about them.”

“Mark, what do you want to know? They’re adorable little twelve-year-old twins. Blond and blue-eyed. I’m not bringing home two-headed aliens from another planet. What are you afraid of? Think they have some kind of flesh-eating island disease? They lost their family. They’re orphans. Someone has to adopt them. So-”

“It’s going to be a hell of a shock for Ira and Elena. And Roz. And-”

“They all know we want a big family.”

“But it’s so sudden, Lea.”

“So you’re agreeing? I can bring them home?”

“No. I’m really opposed here. Bringing two island boys to Sag Harbor and expecting them to fit in with our family? No, Lea. Really. Think about it. Wait till your mind is clearer. You know. Calmer. Sleep on it.”

“Sleep on it? You’re joking. Don’t you want me to come home? I have to get off the island. Today is the last day for the rescue boats. Tomorrow will be too late.”

“But Lea-”

“Listen, honey, it could be your next book. Really. Two orphaned boys from a tiny island are taken to live with a middle-class family in Sag Harbor. Think of the possibilities, Mark. A study by you of how the boys adapt. What challenges them and what changes them and how they fit in with a family of strangers-and how they change the family. It could be a terrific follow-up book. And don’t tell me you already have an idea, because I know you don’t.”

Silence.

“Well? You know it’s a good idea, don’t you, Mark? Think of the wonderful anecdotes-”

“Anecdotes? It’s our life, Lea. It’s not anecdotes. What if these boys-”

“They’re sweet and sad, Mark. It’s so tragic. They saw their parents carried away by the floodwaters. They lost everything. But they’re adorable. I’m not exaggerating. When you see them, you’ll fall in love with them, too. They’re going to change our lives. You’ll see.”

“Daniel, you have to tell the woman about Ikey.” Samuel stood at the open doorway of the fisherman’s shack, white boards planked together to form a one-room shelter with a flat roof low overhead.

“She’s not a woman. She’s our new mum.” Daniel lay on his back on the flat cot against the wall, hands behind his head.

“Ikey is fishing on the dock,” Samuel said, pointing toward the water. “I can see him from here. You have to tell Mum-”

Daniel shook his head. He had a strange, smug smile on his face. As if the conversation was funny. “Ikey can’t come. Mum won’t take three of us. She only wants two.”

“You don’t know that. Did you ask her?” Samuel’s voice rose with emotion. He wanted to wipe the smile off his brother’s face. He stepped into the shack, ducking his head under the thick web of fishing nets hanging from the already low ceiling. “Did you ask her?”

Daniel pulled a segment of rope net down to him and twirled it around his hand. “Ikey isn’t pretty like us. Mum doesn’t want him.”

“But she has to know-”

“No, she doesn’t!” Daniel sat up quickly, blue eyes flaring angrily. A snort escaped his throat. Like an animal show of anger.

Samuel took a step back. He knew his brother’s temper well. It taught him caution at an early age. Arguing with Daniel was such a waste of time. But he had to try. Someone had to look out for their little friend. Samuel had protected Ikey before. From others.

How could he protect him against Daniel?

“We will have a swimming pool,” Daniel said, lying back down, twirling the fishing rope again. “Our own swimming pool, Sammy. And lobster to eat every night. And we’ll wear new jeans and rule the school. That’s what we always wanted, right, boyo? To rule the school?”

Daniel giggled, as if he’d said something hilarious. His head swung from side to side on the cot as he giggled some more.

Samuel felt his throat clench. Daniel was being Daniel again.

He took a deep breath. “I want to bring Ikey. Ikey is like our brother. He’s our only friend. He’s like family, Daniel.”

“Family? Are you joking with me, lad?”

“No, it’s not a joke.”

Samuel scratched his chest. The new mum had found them jeans and T-shirts. But the clothes were stiff and scratchy. Samuel had sensitive skin. He needed soft fabrics or he’d break into a rash all over.

“We are starting a new family,” Daniel insisted. “You. Me. The new mum. The new dad. A new bruvver and sister. A new family, Sammy. We’ll swim all day in our own pool. We’ll go fishing in the bay. That’s what Mum says. And we’ll rule the school. Like heaven. You want to go to heaven, don’t you, Sammy? We’re moving to Heaven.”

Samuel made two fists. “I hate it when you talk stupid like that. You think it’s cool, but it isn’t. It’s sick.”

Daniel tossed the rope at the wall. He snorted again.

“I’m going to tell the new mum about Ikey,” Samuel said, showing unusual courage. He knew he’d soon back down.

“Then she won’t take us.” Daniel swung around and leaped to his feet in a quick, graceful motion. He flashed Samuel a grin as he pushed past him and strode out of the little shack, onto the grassy approach to the beach.