The House in the Cerulean Sea(90)

“Why?” he asked. “Why would you do anything at all?”

She reached out and took his hand in hers. “Change comes when people want it enough, Mr. Baker. And I do. I promise you that. It may take some time, but you’ll see. Today has been a swift kick in the seat of my trousers.” She squeezed his hand and let go. “Now. What flavor would you like?”

“Cherry,” Linus said without thinking.

She laughed. “Of course you do. Two scoops, I think.” She sang a quiet song as she went to give him just that.

Linus looked up to find Arthur staring at him. “What?”

Arthur shook his head slowly. “I don’t know why you can’t see it.”

“See what?”

“You. Everything you are.”

Linus shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not much, but I try with what I have.” Then, “I—I shouldn’t have pushed. Making you all come here like I did. I should have listened to you.”

Arthur looked amused again. “I think it all worked out. Some bumps in the road, but it’s nothing we couldn’t handle. Lucy didn’t actually kill anyone, so I call that a win.”

“Two scoops of cherry,” Helen announced. “For each of you.” It was bright pink with little bits of red fruit. “On me.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” Arthur started.

She waved him off. “Think nothing of it. It’s the least I can do. All I ask is that you let me come to the island to see that garden.”

“Gladly,” Arthur said. “Whenever you’d like. You can stay for lunch.”

She smiled. “Sounds perfect. Perhaps the week after next? I have an employee, but he’s on vacation this week, so it’s just me. I’m sure that you and Mr. Baker here will be consummate hosts—”

“I’m afraid it’ll just be me and the children,” Arthur said, picking up his ice cream. His voice had taken on a strange lilt. “Linus will be leaving us a week from today. Thank you for the ice cream, Helen. And for being so kind.” He turned and walked to the table.

Linus frowned. He’d never seen Arthur be so dismissive before.

“You’re leaving?” Helen asked, sounding baffled. “Why?”

Linus sighed. “It’s an assignment for DICOMY. My stay here was always going to be temporary.”

“But you’ll come back, won’t you?”

Linus looked away. “Why would I? After I make my recommendation, there’d be no need. My job will be done.”

“Your job,” she repeated. “That’s all this is to you? A job?”

“What else would it—”

She reached out and took his hand again. This time, her grip was firm. “Don’t. You can lie to yourself all you want, Mr. Baker, but don’t you try to lie to me. I won’t stand for it. You project yourself in a certain light, but even in my shop, I could see right through the facade. The way you stood up for the children only cemented that. You know what else.”

“It’s not my home,” Linus admitted quietly. “I live in the city.”

Helen scoffed. “A home isn’t always the house we live in. It’s also the people we choose to surround ourselves with. You may not live on the island, but you can’t tell me it’s not your home. Your bubble, Mr. Baker. It’s been popped. Why would you allow it to grow around you again?”

She turned and hollered for Norman, disappearing through the swinging door, leaving Linus staring after her. His ice cream was beginning to melt.



* * *



The man in the post office barely acknowledged his presence. He only grunted while Linus paid to have the report mailed off.

“Anything for me?” Linus asked, tired of this display.

The man glared at him before turning and digging through a plastic box, riffling through envelopes. He pulled out a large one this time. It was much thicker than any other mail Linus had received while on the island. He frowned when the man handed it over.

It was from DICOMY.

“Thank you,” Linus said, distracted. The envelope was heavy and stiff when he picked it up. He left the post office.

He was in the bright sunshine. He took a deep breath. The others were back at the van waiting for him. He shouldn’t open it now, but … he had to know what was inside.

He tore the top of the envelope carefully.

There was a file inside, much like the ones he’d been given when he’d been sent to the island. The file didn’t have a name on the tab. It was blank.

The first page was a cover letter.

He pulled it out, and blinked when something fell onto the sidewalk, bouncing onto his loafer.

He looked down.

It was an old metal key.

He bent down and picked it up. It was lighter than he expected.

The cover letter said:

DEPARTMENT IN CHARGE OF MAGICAL YOUTH MEMO FROM EXTREMELY UPPER MANGEMENT



* * *



Mr. Baker:

Thank you for your second report. It was thorough, as always, and quite enlightening. The descriptions of the daily lives of the children gave us plenty to consider.

However.

We do have some concerns.

As you’ll recall, we asked previously for a more in-depth look at Arthur Parnassus. And while you did provide that to us, we couldn’t help but notice that it appeared to be less … objective than we expected. In fact, the entire report is unlike any other you’ve written. You were chosen for this assignment, in part, because of your impartiality. You were able, even in the face of adversity, to maintain a degree of separation from the children and people you were investigating.