there the customs traveled to the New World, to our world.”
Mickie nodded briefly. Then she signaled to Kurt to stop shooting and moved to a front seat, next to Lena.
Patience told me, “I did a paper on Victoria and Albert. They had it all. They were the richest, most powerful, most glamorous couple in the world. They were even happy! But Albert died forty years before Victoria. She spent all that time mourning him and building monuments to him, monuments of her love. That’s what I want some guy to do for me.”
“Marry you and then die?”
“Marry me. Love me desperately. And then die. Then I’ll build monuments to our love.”
We continued driving east past Indian Well, a former migrant town that housed workers for the many wealthy communities in the county. From the van window, I could see rusty trailers, small cinder-block homes, and RVs that would never ride again. We passed a lake called Deep Lake, preceded by signs that advertised its “great bass fishing.”
Sierra told Maureen, “My dad says that Deep Lake is stocked with killer bass fish. They’ll eat anything that falls in there.”
Patience and I started to scoff at her, but Mrs. Veck surprised us by saying, “That’s true, Sierra. In fact, they used to call it Killer Bass Lake. Who can tell me why they might have changed that name?”
After a moment, she gave up: “No one? How about to make it more appealing and more marketable to fishermen?”
Everyone avoided eye contact with her. “Okay, then. Let’s all look across the lake. That means you, too, Sterling Johnston. Now, what do you think those huge metal towers are on the other side?”
I looked where she was pointing. The south side of the lake was bordered by a row of tall steel structures. I gave Mrs. Veck a break. “Those are high-tension electrical wires.”
“Yes. Thank you, Charity. Who can tell me what their purpose is?”
Maureen actually made a comment: “Don’t those have electromagnets or something that come out of them and eat your brain? Don’t kids down here have, like, a hundred times more brain tumors than we do?”
Mrs. Veck smiled. “I don’t know, Maureen. Would you like to research that information and share it with us?”
“No. This is supposed to be vacation! I don’t even know what we’re doing here. We’re supposed to be out on our boat.”
That exchange ended the teachable moment, and Mickie and Lena came back to our area with a vidscreen and huddled a long time with Mrs. Veck.
My attention snapped back to reality when I heard the ambulance door slam shut. The dark boy had slipped outside. Almost immediately after, I heard a sharp, crackling sound from somewhere beneath me. What was it? Where was it coming from?
I listened for a few seconds, and I heard it again. It was close by. A new burst of sound led me toward the foot of the stretcher. I scooted forward on my hips until I could bend and look underneath.
The first thing I saw was my backpack, a familiar dark red shape against the white metal floor. It looked very flat. I wondered what the kidnappers had left inside it. The next thing I saw was the dark boy’s two-way resting against a rubber wheel of the stretcher. He had, apparently, left it behind. What would Dr. Reyes think about that?
I leaned closer and listened for a moment. The crackling gave way to voices, at least two of them. They were arguing, it seemed, in a foreign language. Creole? I suspected so. Some words were clear, and they sounded like French.
I soon gave up trying to understand them and scooted back up to my usual position. I thought for a moment about the dark boy. He presented himself as being such a genius. Had he just made a really stupid mistake? Could I, if I had the nerve, pick up that two-way and call for help? To Victoria? Or to Patience?
Most likely not. Most likely I would need a password to use it. Or maybe he had left it there on purpose to see if I could be trusted? But what if
Mickie nodded briefly. Then she signaled to Kurt to stop shooting and moved to a front seat, next to Lena.
Patience told me, “I did a paper on Victoria and Albert. They had it all. They were the richest, most powerful, most glamorous couple in the world. They were even happy! But Albert died forty years before Victoria. She spent all that time mourning him and building monuments to him, monuments of her love. That’s what I want some guy to do for me.”
“Marry you and then die?”
“Marry me. Love me desperately. And then die. Then I’ll build monuments to our love.”
We continued driving east past Indian Well, a former migrant town that housed workers for the many wealthy communities in the county. From the van window, I could see rusty trailers, small cinder-block homes, and RVs that would never ride again. We passed a lake called Deep Lake, preceded by signs that advertised its “great bass fishing.”
Sierra told Maureen, “My dad says that Deep Lake is stocked with killer bass fish. They’ll eat anything that falls in there.”
Patience and I started to scoff at her, but Mrs. Veck surprised us by saying, “That’s true, Sierra. In fact, they used to call it Killer Bass Lake. Who can tell me why they might have changed that name?”
After a moment, she gave up: “No one? How about to make it more appealing and more marketable to fishermen?”
Everyone avoided eye contact with her. “Okay, then. Let’s all look across the lake. That means you, too, Sterling Johnston. Now, what do you think those huge metal towers are on the other side?”
I looked where she was pointing. The south side of the lake was bordered by a row of tall steel structures. I gave Mrs. Veck a break. “Those are high-tension electrical wires.”
“Yes. Thank you, Charity. Who can tell me what their purpose is?”
Maureen actually made a comment: “Don’t those have electromagnets or something that come out of them and eat your brain? Don’t kids down here have, like, a hundred times more brain tumors than we do?”
Mrs. Veck smiled. “I don’t know, Maureen. Would you like to research that information and share it with us?”
“No. This is supposed to be vacation! I don’t even know what we’re doing here. We’re supposed to be out on our boat.”
That exchange ended the teachable moment, and Mickie and Lena came back to our area with a vidscreen and huddled a long time with Mrs. Veck.
My attention snapped back to reality when I heard the ambulance door slam shut. The dark boy had slipped outside. Almost immediately after, I heard a sharp, crackling sound from somewhere beneath me. What was it? Where was it coming from?
I listened for a few seconds, and I heard it again. It was close by. A new burst of sound led me toward the foot of the stretcher. I scooted forward on my hips until I could bend and look underneath.
The first thing I saw was my backpack, a familiar dark red shape against the white metal floor. It looked very flat. I wondered what the kidnappers had left inside it. The next thing I saw was the dark boy’s two-way resting against a rubber wheel of the stretcher. He had, apparently, left it behind. What would Dr. Reyes think about that?
I leaned closer and listened for a moment. The crackling gave way to voices, at least two of them. They were arguing, it seemed, in a foreign language. Creole? I suspected so. Some words were clear, and they sounded like French.
I soon gave up trying to understand them and scooted back up to my usual position. I thought for a moment about the dark boy. He presented himself as being such a genius. Had he just made a really stupid mistake? Could I, if I had the nerve, pick up that two-way and call for help? To Victoria? Or to Patience?
Most likely not. Most likely I would need a password to use it. Or maybe he had left it there on purpose to see if I could be trusted? But what if
Similar Books
