They Both Die at the End (Death-Cast #1)(58)
“You should’ve told me.” Lidia pulls me back into another hug.
My cheek stings, but I dig my chin into her shoulder, and she smells like whatever cinnamon thing she must’ve fed Penny today because she hasn’t changed out of the baggy shirt I last saw her in. In our hug we sway and I search for Rufus in line and he’s clearly shocked by the slap. It’s weird how Rufus doesn’t know this is Lidia at her core, how, like I said, she’s a coin constantly flipping. It’s strange how I’ve only known Rufus for a day.
“I know,” I tell Lidia. “You know I’m sorry and I was only trying to protect you.”
“You’re supposed to be with me forever,” Lidia cries. “You’re supposed to be around to play bad cop when Penny brings a crush home for the first time. You’re supposed to keep me company with card games and bad TV marathons when she leaves for college. You’re supposed to be around to vote for Penny to become president because you know she’s such a control freak already that she won’t be happy until she’s ruling the country. God knows she’ll sell her soul to take over the whole world, and you’re supposed to be there to help me stop her from making Faustian deals.”
I don’t know what to say. I go back and forth between nodding and shaking my head because I don’t know what to do. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Lidia squeezes my shoulder.
“Maybe it is. Maybe if I wasn’t hiding I’d have street smarts or something. It’s early to be blaming myself, but maybe it’s going to be my fault, Lidia.” This day has sort of felt like being thrust out into the wilderness with all the supplies I’d need to survive and no idea how to even make a fire.
“Shut your face,” Lidia demands. “This is not your fault. We failed you.”
“Now you shut your face.”
“That’s the rudest thing you’ve ever said,” Lidia says with a smile, like I’ve had promise to be mean all along. “The world isn’t the safest place ever, we know that because of Christian and everyone else dying on the daily. But I should’ve shown you some risks are worth it.”
Sometimes you have a child who you love more than anything, unexpectedly. This was one way she showed me. “I’m taking risks today,” I say. “And I want you here because it’s so much harder for you to break out and be adventurous with Penny in your life. You’ve always wanted to see the world, and since we’re not going to get a chance in this lifetime to go on road trips, I’m happy we can travel together right now.” I hold her hand. I nod toward Rufus.
Lidia turns to Rufus with the same nervous face she had when we were sitting in her bathroom with her pregnancy test. And just like then, before she flipped over the stick to see the result, she says, “Let’s do this.” She squeezes my hand, which Rufus focuses on.
“Hey, what’s up?” Rufus asks.
“Better days, obviously,” Lidia says. “This fucking sucks. I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Rufus says.
Lidia stares at me like she’s still surprised I’m in front of her.
We reach the front of the line. The teller, dressed in a cheerful yellow vest, solemnly smiles. “Welcome to the World Travel Arena. Sorry to lose you three.”
“I’m not dying,” Lidia corrects.
“Oh. Cost for guests is going to be one hundred dollars,” the teller says. He looks at me and Rufus. “Suggested donation is one dollar for Deckers.”
I pay for all our tickets, donating an extra couple hundred dollars in the hope that the arena remains open for many, many years. What the arena provides for Deckers seems incomparable, way better than the Make-A-Moment station. The teller thanks us for our donation and doesn’t seem surprised by it; Deckers are always throwing their money around. Rufus and I receive yellow wristbands (for healthy Deckers) and Lidia an orange one (visitor), and we proceed in.
We stay close, not wandering too far from one another. The main entrance is a little crowded as Deckers and visitors look up at the gigantic screen listing all the regions you can visit, and the different kinds of tours available: Around the World in 80 Minutes, Miles of Wilds, Journey to the Center of the United States, and more.
“Should we go on a tour?” Rufus asks. “I’m game for any of them except You, Me, and the Deep Blue Sea.”
“The Around the World in 80 Minutes tour starts in ten,” I say.
“I’d love that,” Lidia says, her arm locked in mine. She turns to Rufus, embarrassed. “Sorry, oh my god, sorry. Really, it’s whatever you two want. I don’t get a vote. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Rufus, you cool with this?”
“Around the world we go, yo.”
We find Room 16 and settle into a double-decker trolley with twenty other people. Rufus and I are the only Deckers with yellow wristbands. There are six Deckers with blue wristbands. Online, I’ve followed many Deckers with incurable illnesses who take it upon themselves to travel the real countries and cities while they still have time. But those who can’t afford to do so settle for the next best thing with the rest of us.
The driver stands in the aisle and speaks through her headset.
“Good afternoon. Thank you for joining me on this wonderful tour, where we’ll travel the world in eighty minutes, give or take ten. I’m Leslie and I’ll be your tour guide. On behalf of everyone at the World Travel Arena, I offer my condolences to you and your family. I hope our trip today manages to put a smile on your face and leaves a wonderful memory for any guests joining you.