The Lies About Truth(63)

Gina spun in a loose circle, taking in as much of the park as she could see from the parking lot. “I can’t believe we’re actually here.”

Our trip had been a year in the making. We were four instead of five, but we were here. “We made it,” I said.

Gray heard me. He shook the fatigue from his legs and stretched toward the sky, rolling his thick neck in a circle. “Thank God. World’s longest trip.”

Gina came to my defense. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Both Max and Gray laser-eyed her, and she corrected. “It was long, but it wasn’t bad.”

Gray tried again. “World’s longest year?”

“Amen,” we all said at once.

Luckily, the park didn’t appear too busy. Only a handful of vehicles were in the lot. The high humidity had probably sent tourists and visiting families to the mall or the movies. At the ticket counter, each of us forked over the price of admission. Eyeing our water bottles as if they were vermin, the counter lady handed us a park map and a coupon for some genuine Fountain of Youth water.

“Have a nice day,” she told us.

Told us. She wasn’t a lady who made suggestions.

“Back at you,” Gray said jovially.

Then he turned to us and said, “That old gal needs to drink a gallon by herself.”

“That’s what people probably say about me,” I muttered.

Max’s head tilted and his eyes grew sad at my self-deprecation. “Not today.” He tapped the front of my hat. “You look great.”

I ducked my head and pocketed the receipt, unsure of what to say. Reflexively, Gina slipped her arm through mine. I wondered how much she knew about the envelopes. Did everyone know except me? Could Max and Gray have sent them together, and that’s why she nodded toward the front of the truck, rather than to one side or the other? I hadn’t considered that possibility before.

If my mind was in darkness, hers had both feet anchored to light.

“We should skip,” she said, chin up, decision already made.

“Skip?” I asked.

“It’s the Fountain of frickin’ Youth. Come on.”

Gray cut his eyes at Max. “If you want to skip, you’re shit out of luck.”

Gina didn’t wait on me to agree. She tugged my arm and body along for a ride until we skipped and smiled and were young girls again.

I could half see us ten years ago with pigtails and cotton dresses on the playground at Coastal Elementary, eating Lunchables and talking about how stupid the boys were. That was back when we said things like You’ll be my best friend forever and ever and ever and ever. No matter what.

We’d believed it then.

I started to believe it again.

After we passed through the archway entrance, fifteen acres of green space, statues, forts, and artifacts stretched out in front of us. Somewhere beyond them was the bay where Ponce de Leon had landed in search of gold and a legend. Not far from us now was the old Spring House, which sheltered the Fountain of Youth. For something I’d waited so long to see, it felt a great deal like other parks I’d visited. Part of me expected to see grandparent-aged children frolicking through Roman-style marble baths.

I wasn’t sure where to start, but everyone looked at me to decide.

“Spring House?” Max asked.

I hesitated. “Let’s save that until last.”

“Statue?” Gray asked, but he’d already started in the direction of the old conquistador.

Gina let go of me and caught up with him. Likewise, Max settled into the space beside me. We wandered along the paved paths and sometimes off them. I allowed myself the freedom to feel everything and remember whatever I wanted, like a parade marching through my brain.

Gina. Skipping. With her arm looped through mine.

Gray. The vase of history I’d buried in the pine needles.

Big. An empty stuffed ostrich.

The anniversary. Today.

The list. Shrinking.

Max. Invader. Explorer. Culprit?

When I looked up, the golden statue of Ponce, mounted on a large stone base, loomed over me. I stood in the conquistador’s shadow and imagined him landing here for the first time.

The early explorers were cruel and ruthless. They were also brave sons of bitches. I envied the hell out of them for their small Earth and expanding maps. What was left to discover these days? Fashion trends and the next social media quick fix?

As I stared up at that big statue, I wondered how long it had taken him to get his land legs back under him after his voyage. Did he kiss the ground and thank God and the king for traveling mercies? Did he look for an immediate fight with the natives? Or did he wonder the same thing I was wondering now?

Was there really healing in all this water?

“What do you think Trent would have said?” I asked Gina.

“Probably something like ‘Sadie May, what shall we explore next? Machu Picchu? Angkor Wat?’”

Her impression was dead-on.

“You nailed that.”

“I knew him pretty well.”

She did. I was glad she remembered that.

“He’d have laughed when I told him those places were a long way away.”

She tilted her head to the sky. “I can almost hear him.”

I thought I could too.

Max chimed in. “The height and depth and width of the universe—how immeasurable it was—always energized him. I wish he’d had a chance to travel.”