Zoe and her friends crept into First Presbyterian looking disheveled and dazed. The congregation was already singing “Abide with Me.” Val and Dallas ducked into a pew near the back, but Zoe had to walk to the front. The hymn ended when she was halfway there, and suddenly the only sound in the church was her black flats going squinch-squinch on the floor. Everyone turned. Zoe gave an embarrassed wave. No one seemed to think it was funny.
Her mother had saved her a seat by the aisle, where she was sitting with Jonah and her hippy-dippy, chain saw–artist friend, Rufus. Zoe expected her mother to whisper Where were you? or at least give her a disappointed look. Instead, she gripped Zoe’s hand warmly. She must have known she was scared to death. Zoe’s heart, which had only just stopped racing from the confrontation with Ronny, now raced at the thought of giving Bert and Betty’s eulogy in front of 200 people.
After Stan Manggold had killed the Wallaces, he’d dumped them in the lake by their house. Divers had recovered their bodies a few days ago. Zoe had wanted to be there when Bert and Betty were found. Someone who loved them should have been there. She’d actually snuck out to her car the morning of the dive, knowing her mother wouldn’t approve. Unfortunately, Jonah figured out what she was up to, and hid in the backseat so he could go, too. A mile from the house, he scared the crap out of Zoe by springing up in the rearview mirror and shouting, “It’s me!”
She couldn’t let the little bug watch bodies get pulled out of a lake—he’d be so freaked out that he would be sleeping in her bed for a month. When he wouldn’t stop saying “I loved Bert and Betty also! I loved them also!” Zoe made an illegal U-turn, and drove to Krispy Kreme, where they ate donuts and cried without talking.
Zoe’s mother nudged her. The minister was leading a prayer now, and they were supposed to be standing. Zoe looked up at the altar. Her mom had chosen the flowers, which were perfect: lilies, roses, gladiolus. And Rufus had made a wooden box to hold the Wallaces’ ashes. It was walnut and carved with a pair of doves in flight, like souls. Zoe liked to tease Rufus (for saying “epic” and “rad” all the time, for having the world’s least secret crush on her mom), but he was an extremely good guy and more talented than Zoe had thought: the box was lovely, and there was no way he’d made it with a chain saw. Still, it was hard for Zoe to look at. She couldn’t believe that everything that was left of Bert and Betty could fit inside it. Two whole lives, one little box.
The prayer ended. Zoe checked the bulletin to see when the eulogy was supposed to be. It was right now.
The minister was nodding at her.
Zoe realized something.
She’d left her index cards in the car.
She felt her face get hot, her throat close. The minister raised his eyebrows.
Her mother signaled for him to wait, then leaned toward Zoe and whispered the kindest thing anybody had ever said: “Do you want me to do it instead?”
Every part of Zoe wanted to say yes.
“No,” she said. “I have to try. But it’s gonna be messy.”
“Messy is okay,” her mom said. “They knew how much you loved them.”
The minister looked annoyed. His eyebrows crept higher.
Zoe leaned past her mother to Jonah. He was wearing khaki pants, a red tie that he had insisted on tying himself—there was no describing the knot he’d finally come up with—and a blue blazer, the arms of which were so long that you could just barely see the tips of his fingers.
“Do you want to come up with me, bug?” she whispered.
“Yes, actually!” he said. “I think people will like my tie.”
“Go, go, go,” said their mom, and they climbed the steps to the altar holding hands.
The minister, seeing Jonah, said, “It seems we have a surprise guest”—which Jonah loved.
Zoe stood at the bare lectern, her pulse rushing, her mind blank as a swept room. She didn’t know how to start. A dozen feelings were colliding inside her. She missed Bert and Betty almost too much to talk about them, which reminded her how much she missed X—and she just couldn’t open that door. There was an ocean behind it.
Jonah let go of her hand, took a Sharpie out of his coat pocket, and started drawing on his palm. Maybe it was a bad idea to bring him up here. Had he taken his ADHD med this morning? Zoe looked at the congregation. They were restless. How long had she just been standing there?
Jonah tugged at her sleeve. She glanced down, annoyed.
He’d drawn a little red heart on his hand. He’d even colored it in. It was squiggly and wobbly—but it was for her.
It helped.
She leaned toward the microphone.
“I forgot the notes for my speech,” she said. “I think that’s god’s way of telling me that my speech wasn’t very good.”
There was a soft ripple of laughter, even from the minister, which calmed Zoe more. She looked out at her mom and Rufus. They immediately raised their palms—they had hearts on them, too. They must have planned this out.
“I could never say everything I want to about Bert and Betty anyway,” Zoe said. “They were so sweet and so funny.” Bits of the eulogy she’d written started floating back to her. “You know how you’ll be sitting there thinking of calling someone to see if they want to go hiking—and all of a sudden they call you to see if you want to go hiking? That was Bert and Betty. We were connected somehow.” She paused. “They taught Jonah and me so much about the woods and the mountains. They also secretly gave us ice cream for years, because our mom’s a vegan and won’t let it in the house. Sorry, Mom—Jonah and I have actually had a ton of ice cream.”
Jonah stood on his tippy-toes so he could reach the microphone, and said, “Salty caramel, please!”
Their mother made a pretend-angry face.
Zoe couldn’t remember the middle of the eulogy, so she skipped to the end. She’d worked so hard on it that she’d memorized it.
“The Wallaces loved us so much that it made me feel safe—like wherever I went, they were walking in front of me with shields,” she said. “The way they got killed … I really wish that I had been walking in front of them.” She stopped a moment. “When something horrible and unexpected happens, like Bert and Betty dying, I try to remember all the amazing and unexpected things that have also happened. Getting to know the Wallaces was one of them. It’s hard to breathe now that they’re gone. But some people change you so much that they make any amount of pain worth it.”
Zoe didn’t know if she was supposed to say “thank you” or just walk back to her seat. She stood awkwardly for a second, then said, “Okay, that’s all. Sorry I freaked out at the beginning.”
Jonah clapped for her, then leaned up to the microphone and said, “I tied my own tie.”
When they stepped down from the altar, Zoe saw that her mom and Rufus had their palm-hearts in the air.
Zoe was so relieved to be done with the speech that she felt like she was floating. The day was nowhere near over—Ripper was out there somewhere, waiting; Val and Dallas were in the back of the church, ready to barrage her with questions. But Zoe kept a box in the back of her brain for things she didn’t want to think about. It was labeled Do Not Open. She pushed all her worries into it now. For the rest of the service, she laid her head on her mom’s shoulder, replayed memories of the Wallaces, and stared at a spot to the left of the altar where the sun, streaming through the stained-glass windows, threw patches of blue, yellow, and green against the floor.
There was something Zoe hadn’t been able to say in her eulogy because it was too weird, but it comforted her now: she knew that Stan Manggold was being punished for killing the Wallaces, because X had eventually tracked him down and taken him to the Lowlands. The fact that he was suffering was not the thing that comforted her, though. What comforted her was this: if there was a hell for Stan, there had to be a heaven for Bert and Betty.
The plan was to spread the Wallaces’ ashes after the service. While the crowd drifted out and the organist played a few last chords, Zoe told her mom she needed a minute to say good-bye to Dallas and Val.
Zoe could almost always expect a woot! or a boom! from Dallas, but this time he said only, “You did good.” Val, looking agitated and angry, gestured for Zoe to follow her, and walked out of the church without a word.
The minister stood outside amid the parishioners. Val waited on the sidewalk where they wouldn’t be overheard.
“Ripper?” she said. “You know somebody named Ripper?”
“Yes,” said Zoe quietly.
“You are not going anywhere with her,” said Val.
“I am,” said Zoe.
“She’s psychotic,” said Val.
“Only a little,” said Zoe.
“This isn’t funny,” said Val. “Have you been lying to us this whole time—about X? About everything?”
Zoe was ashamed. She spoke even more softly.
“Not about everything,” she said. “Okay, yeah, about everything.”
Val turned away, too pissed off to speak.
“Why didn’t you tell us the truth, dude?” said Dallas.
“I should have,” said Zoe. “But the story is so crazy. And I guess—I’m just realizing this now—I guess I was afraid that once you knew who X really was, you’d tell me to stay away from him, and I knew that I couldn’t.”
Val turned back suddenly.
“I want to know everything about him,” she said. “Right now. You know I love you, but I swear to god, one more lie and I’m done.”
“X is …,” said Zoe. “Okay, here we go. X is a prisoner in a place called the Lowlands. They let him leave to collect souls who’ve been damned, but then they make him come back. Jonah and I met him during the blizzard when he came to get Stan Manggold. How was I going to explain that to you? You’d have looked at me like you’re looking at me right now.”
“The Lowlands? What is that?” said Val. “Are you talking about hell?”
“Yes, but—” said Zoe.
“ ‘Yes, but’?” said Val. “He’s from hell? How is that not a deal breaker?”
“I’m with Val, dawg,” said Dallas. “You dumped me because I like sports.”
“X was born there, okay?” said Zoe. “He doesn’t know who his parents are—they’re somewhere else in the Lowlands, which are gigantic, I guess. He grew up in a prison cell. I’m the first person his own age he’s ever talked to, probably. I know I’m the first person who ever held him or kissed him …”
“You can skip some of this,” said Dallas, reddening.
“Sorry,” said Zoe. “X has been told he’s a piece of shit his whole life, but somehow he’s the kindest person. The most loyal person.” She paused. “And he loves me so much he can barely look at me.”
Val and Dallas were silent.
“I need him back,” said Zoe. “I miss his hands. I miss his coat. How weird is that? I miss his coat!”
“That’s the only thing you’ve said that actually isn’t weird,” said Val. “I’ve had sex with all of Gloria’s coats.”
Dallas was in misery. He pretended to choke himself with his tie.
Val glared at him.
“What is wrong with you, Hetero Norm?”
“First of all,” said Dallas, “why does no one want to have sex with my coat—it’s full of luxurious down. Also, I’m sorry but I don’t want to hear about this hot-ass dude. Could you guys try to be sensitive since I’m the ex-boyfriend?”
“ ‘Ex-boyfriend’?” said Val. “Zoe hooked up with you in the handicapped bathroom at Walmart—and now you’re her ‘ex-boyfriend’?”
“It was Target,” said Dallas. “And that shit was hot. Back me up, Zo.”
“It was,” she said, mostly just to be nice. “You’re sure it wasn’t Walmart?”
Val yanked the conversation back on track.
“I’m sorry Bert and Betty died,” she told Zoe. “I’m sorry your dad died. Obviously. Watching you suffer made me suffer. You know that. But I don’t … I mean, I don’t know what the hell is going on with you anymore.”
Zoe glanced at the church. Her mother, Jonah, and Rufus had just come out. They were thanking the minister. Jonah was holding their mother’s hand and swinging her arm around like it was a jump rope.
She knew that Val and Dallas were overwhelmed by everything she’d told them. She knew she shouldn’t say another word. But Val had reminded Zoe of one last secret she’d been keeping.
“My father is still alive,” she said. “My mom knows. Jonah doesn’t. When I get back, I’ll explain all that, too.”
The Wallaces had asked that their ashes be scattered on a stretch of river they loved off Tally Lake Road. Bert and Betty used to take folding chairs and read there—even in winter sometimes. It pained Zoe to remember how cute Bert and Betty looked all bundled up in their coats and scarves, how they passed a plaid thermos of coffee back and forth, how they had to keep taking off their gloves to turn the pages.
Zoe knew that Ripper, wherever she was, was waiting impatiently to find her daughter’s last resting place. As she drove, she kept thinking she saw Ripper’s gold dress between the trees. But Zoe didn’t want to rush this. For the time being, she kept Ripper in the Do Not Open box in her brain. She smiled, imagining Ripper cursing indignantly and trying to climb out.
They had taken two cars. Zoe and Jonah were in one, their mom and Rufus in the other. Jonah had insisted that Rufus come with them, even though he hadn’t known the Wallaces well. Rufus seemed to feel self-conscious about intruding on a family moment, but the Bissells had been staying with him ever since their house was destroyed, and what Jonah said, in his own strange way, was true: “You’re part of our us now.”
Jonah also insisted they bring Spock and Uhura with them to the river, because the Labs had belonged to Bert and Betty. Uhura had gotten pneumonia. Zoe was sure it was from when Stan Manggold tried to drown her in the lake during the blizzard. The dog had lost a startling amount of weight. Just picking her up was heartbreaking: it felt like holding a skeleton. The vet couldn’t promise that Uhura would recover, but no one told Jonah that. He watched the dog obsessively, like he was her secret service agent.
Zoe’s mother parked near the river. Zoe pulled up on the other side of a copse of trees, so her mom wouldn’t see what Ronny the Unhinged Hunter had done to her car. A light rain polka-dotted the windshield.
“Do we have to get out right away?” said Jonah. “Or can we sit?”
Uhura was curled on his lap in the backseat.
“We can sit if you want to,” said Zoe.
“I want to,” said Jonah. “Uhura’s sleeping. She still sounds rattly. Do you think she’ll always sound rattly?”
“I don’t know, bug,” said Zoe. “But I know she loves you—and I know you love her.”
“Duh,” said Jonah. “I totally love her.”
Zoe watched through the windshield as her mom spread a blanket by the river, and Rufus carried out flowers from the altar and the urn he’d carved with doves.
“Are you feeling sad about Bert and Betty?” said Zoe.
When Jonah didn’t answer, she looked at him in the rearview mirror. He was making his scrunched-up “thinking” face.
“I’m sad-mad,” he said. “I’ve never been here without them before. Remember their thermos? Are you sad-mad?”
“I am, yeah,” said Zoe. “I didn’t know it was called that.”
“It is called that, I didn’t make it up,” said Jonah. “You know what sucks?”
“What sucks, bug?” said Zoe.
“When you go to a place and all you see is the people who aren’t there,” he said. “Don’t tell Mom, but I’m a little glad we don’t live on the mountain anymore.”
“Why?” said Zoe.
“Because now it’s just the place where Dad isn’t,” said Jonah. “Also, it’s the place where Bert and Betty don’t come over anymore—and the place where X doesn’t play in the snow with me. You know?”
“I do,” said Zoe.
She reached back and mussed his hair. Jonah grinned. He snapped his teeth at her hand, like an alligator.
“I liked your speech thing at church,” he said. “You guys think I don’t pay attention to stuff, but mostly I do.”
“I know you do,” said Zoe.
“I liked the part about X,” said Jonah.
“What part about X?” said Zoe. “There wasn’t a part about X.”
“Yeah, there was,” said Jonah. “You said, ‘Some people change you so much that they make any amount of pain worth it.’ See? I was listening.”
“That was about Bert and Betty,” said Zoe.
“No, it wasn’t, duh,” said Jonah. “I’m not seven.”
“Okay, maybe it was about all of them,” said Zoe. “I liked when you said, ‘I tied my own tie.’ ”
“How else were they gonna know?” said Jonah.
Uhura finally stirred, and they left the car and walked down the slope to the river. Zoe was touched by how carefully Jonah carried Uhura, how he took only the tiniest, most cautious steps. Spock walked alongside him. He kept his worried eyes trained on Uhura, and made a wincing sound, like he was asking, Is she okay? Is she okay?
They all sat on the blanket, and Zoe’s mom opened the wooden urn. Bert and Betty’s remains were in his-and-her plastic bags. Zoe had known there would be bits of bone mixed in with the ashes, but seeing them was harder than she’d expected. She felt one of those elevator-drops in her stomach. Jonah seemed not to realize that it was bone, and Zoe was grateful for that.
Her mother asked if anyone wanted to say a few words before they scattered the ashes.
Jonah raised his hand, like he was in school.
“I want to say the words ‘sad’ and ‘mad,’ ” he said.
“Me, too,” said Zoe.
“Good,” said their mother. “It’s important to acknowledge both those things. They’re both a hundred percent okay.”
She looked to Rufus, who scratched his overgrown red beard thoughtfully.
“Do you want to say anything?” she said. “You can.”
“No, I’m good,” he said. “I like what the river is saying. I like what the wind is saying.” When Zoe smirked—she couldn’t help it—Rufus smiled unabashedly, and said, “You think I’m a goofball.”
“I think you’re awesome,” said Zoe. “And a gigantic goofball.”
Zoe was glad Rufus was there. Her mother refused to admit that he had a debilitating crush on her, and wouldn’t tell Zoe whether she had feelings for him, too. Still, Rufus was an addition to her family, which felt good and healing—they’d gotten too used to subtraction.
The rain picked up. Zoe could feel it land softly in her hair. Her mom read a Buddhist poem about how the end isn’t really the end (“I don’t get it,” said Jonah), and put the first handful of the Wallaces’ remains into the water. She had Jonah drop rose and gladiolus petals along with it, so they’d know where the ashes were as the current carried them away. The petals were a nice touch, Zoe thought. Her mom had a way with nice touches. Watching the flowers made Zoe feel peaceful for the first time since she’d woken up. They were like a fleet of red and blue ships.
Afterward, Jonah carried Uhura to the car, whispering to her as he walked. Rufus tried to distract Spock, to get him to play, but Spock wouldn’t leave Uhura’s side.
Zoe and her mom washed the ash off their hands in the river, which was so cold that it stung.
“I told Val and Dallas everything,” said Zoe.
“Wow,” said her mother. “That was maybe a decision you and I could have talked about beforehand. It has repercussions for all of us.”
“I know, I’m sorry, but it kind of had to happen right then,” said Zoe. “Because of … stuff.”
“Okay, I trust you, Zo,” said her mom. “How’d they take it?”
“They were shocked,” said Zoe. “Obviously. Val was pissed. They’re still trying to understand it. I mean, I’m still trying to understand it. Are you ever going to tell Rufus?”
“I’m not sure,” said her mother. “It’s a lot to put on the poor guy.”
“Yeah, but if you don’t say something, the wind or the river might tell him,” said Zoe.
Her mom smiled.
“Be nice,” she said. “My number one concern is that Jonah never finds out that your dad just took off on us. I hate that you know it.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. You deserved someone better than him.”
Zoe saw how tired her mother was. How depleted.
“We got someone better than him, Mom,” Zoe said. “We got you.”
Her mother surprised her by tearing up. Zoe thought of Ripper, and how badly Ripper wanted to say good-bye to Belinda, how ashamed she was for leaving her children motherless when she murdered her servant with the teakettle and was damned.
“Sorry,” said Zoe’s mom, wiping her eyes with her fingertips. “Emotional day. All I ever wanted to do was protect you guys from—from everything. I wanted to raise you like little lambs.”
Zoe hugged her hard.
“You did good,” she said. “Baaaa.”