I’D NEVER SEEN ANYTHING like it.
After lunch, as the yacht floated in the bay, Captain Neil, Grandpa Childers, and I stood at the rail, gazing at the wall of clouds.
That’s what it was, a wall.
It had grown. It sat on the water, so low and contained that the sun shone brightly above it.
“I’ve heard of these cloud systems but never seen one.” Captain Neil took the binoculars from his eyes and gave them to me. “I believe they last twenty-four hours or so, then — poof — they’re gone without a trace. Rare. Happens on summer days when the temperature drops. Guess some of the warm, humid air doesn’t want to escape. Pulls the clouds into its own weather system.”
I looked through the binoculars. Up close, the clouds seemed to be boiling, folding in on themselves.
The yacht was floating freely now. Captain Neil had cut the engines. In the stillness of the summer afternoon, I felt I could hear the distant hiss of the clouds’ swirling mist. “Isn’t it dangerous?”
“The system isn’t going anywhere,” Captain Neil said. “And even if it does, we have more than enough power to get to shore in time. I wouldn’t worry.”
I was fascinated.
But as Captain Neil bustled away, Grandpa Childers was gripping my hand a little too tightly.
“Hogwash,” he muttered under his breath.
I could see Colin now. Wandering among the crowd with a tray, collecting empty glasses. His hair had come loose from the ponytail, his shirt was coming undone.
“May I, mum?” I heard him say to a woman as he grabbed her glass from behind, startling her.
He was awkward.
He was sloppy.
He was
Stunning.
The thought came out of nowhere.
You didn’t think that, Rachel.
You don’t know him.
My face was heating up. I hated the feeling.
Suddenly Grandpa Childers seemed to stiffen. “Excuse me, Rachel, I think I’ll go inside.”
I snapped out of my daydream. “What’s up, Grandpa?”
“Just a little … dizzy. You stay. I’ll be fine.”
As he walked away, I noticed he was leaning to one side a bit. Grabbing onto things.
I ran to his side and took his arm. “It’s almost over,” I said.
“At my age, you say that to yourself every day,” he said with a wan smile.
“I meant the cruise!”
Grandpa wasn’t listening to me. His eyes seemed hollow and frightened. “Do you ever feel like stopping time, Rachel? Just staying the same age forever?”
Something’s up.
He’s not himself.
The cruise is affecting his mind.
I knew it.
“Why do you ask?” I said.
Grandpa was giving me a funny, faraway smile. “Remember how you and I used to sing together when you were little — we’d pretend we were onstage?”
I nodded. “And Mom and Dad yelled at you because I wasn’t doing my homework.”
“Promise me you’ll remember those songs. Always. Sing them aloud. Make mistakes, go to places you’re not supposed to. Live. My grandfather told me that. He saved me when my parents had almost trampled my spirit into the dust. Don’t give in, Rachel, or you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to get that spirit back. Like me.”
“Grandpa, you’re scaring me.”
“Just promise me. Because soon I won’t be around to remind you.”
“Stop! You’re in great shape! You’re going to live forever!”
“No, Rachel. Don’t ever say that. No one should live forever. Better to die among people you love than outlive them all.”
“It was … a figure of speech, Grandpa.”
His face grew distant once more. “Pardon me. I’m … feeling a bit cranky, dear. I’ll … rest.”
As he shuffled into the cabin, he seemed to be shrinking. I felt as if I were seeing him slowly disappear before my eyes.
I turned away. I couldn’t watch.
And I became aware of a prickling at the back of my neck.
I was being watched.
I glanced over my shoulder.
Colin’s eyes startled me at first. In the reflection of the afternoon sun they seemed almost transparent.
“Hi,” he said.
“Don’t you have to work?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I cleared all the glasses. Dinner prep starts in a half hour.”
“Cool,” I said.
We began walking along the railing. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk.
Colin had his hands in his pockets. I noticed his shoes were soaking wet. “Accident?” I asked.
“Accidents. Plural. Lemonade on the left. Bloody Mary on the right.”
“Clumsy.”
Colin shrugged. He was beet-red now.
I liked that about him. For a tough guy, he embarrassed easily.
I was surprised when he took my arm.
But I didn’t pull back.
Soon we were heading down the metal stairway at the bow of the boat.
Belowdecks was a narrow, cramped walkway. Overhead, the floor of the upper deck formed a low ceiling, No one was down there but us.
I didn’t mind. Much.
“Why are we here?” I asked.
“So no one asks me for a spare lemon or another cup of coffee. I’m on break.”
“Oh.”
A salty breeze caught me full in the face and I breathed in deeply. We both turned toward the water. The cloud wall seemed closer than before, its ebbing whirls clear to the naked eye.
“Besides,” Colin said, “you sounded like you wanted to escape. From the party.”
“This is an escape?”
“You’d prefer a tropical island?”
“Definitely.”
“ ‘Where the lemonade springs and the bluebird sings …’” he sang in a shaky, whispery voice, “ ‘and no one ever grows o-o-older … ’ Or something like that.”
“ ‘The Big Rock Candy Mountain’!” I said. “Grandpa Childers used to sing it to me all the time.”
“So … what’s keeping us?”
“You called your helicopter?”
Colin stood up straight. He pulled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and began to climb the railing. “Who needs a helicopter?”
“Colin, what are you doing?”
“We can go there ourselves.” He crouched, pitched forward, and dived into the bay. When he emerged, he let out a whoop. “The water’s perfect!”
“YOU’RE CRAZY!”
“The ship is floating. The propellers are off!”
“But your pants — ”
“I’ll change later! Come on!”
Insane.
“Someone will see us!” “ He gazed toward the upper deck. “No one cares!”
“My mom and dad would kill me!”
“They’re already mad. How much worse could it get?”
“But my dress — ”
“Okay, your choice. Be back in a minute.”
He swam away. Butterfly-stroking. Back-paddling. Spitting water high into the air.
I felt hot and itchy. My dress was stifling.
What am I afraid of?
What wasn’t I afraid of?
Live.
Go to places you’re not supposed to.
It doesn’t have to make sense.
Just do it.
I thought about going back to the upper deck. To the party. To Mom and Dad. To Grandpa Childers’s sad face.
I took off my shoes.
I held tightly to the railing.
And I pitched myself over.