Dreamland Social Club(31)

“Did,” he said. “It’s what I did.”

“I know you’re working on something,” she said. “I saw you.”

He got up, breathed hard, and said, “Well, come on then. I’ll show you.”

He led her to his office, which she hadn’t entered since the day they moved in. There were books splayed across the floor and overgrown plants hanging from the ceiling by the window. The books and knickknacks on the shelves were crooked, knocked over, covered in dust. It was arguably the only room in the house that looked worse now than it had the day they arrived.

She followed her father to a desk in the corner by the window overlooking the garden. She could feel a cyclone in her gut when she saw a drawing of a roller coaster that shot out off the shore and over the ocean on a pier and then peaked and rode back in like a tidal wave. It appeared to plunge down through the sand of the beach into a tunnel and reappear out of the boardwalk. She saw the Coney Island skyline sketched in light strokes in a second drawing of the same coaster: the Parachute Jump was on there; so was the Wonder Wheel.

Her father was looking at it alongside her and said, “I had this basic concept years ago. I can’t even remember where. But it was never quite right.” He ran a hand over the page. “It’s called the Tsunami.”

The front door opened downstairs and then Marcus called out, “Hello?” Jane and her dad both said, “Up here,” and then Marcus bounded up the stairs and came into the room. “What’s going on?”

Jane pointed, and he came to her side and studied the renderings. “Wow,” he said.

“Yeah,” Jane said. “Wow.”

It really was incredible.

Especially that spiral track that seemed to twist right up through the boardwalk. “Does it go underground?” she asked. “Through the beach?”

“That’s the idea,” her father said. “Yes.”

“Cool, Dad,” Marcus said.

“So you’re going to submit it to the city?” Jane said.

“What’s the city got to do with it?” Marcus said.

“They’re accepting bids for new ride designs,” Jane explained curtly.

“I don’t know,” her father said. “It still needs more work. And it’s a bit over the top, budget-wise, I think.”

“You have to submit it,” she protested.

He shrugged, then looked at his own drawings. “I guess I can make a few calls.”

“It’s really amazing, Dad.” She turned to give him a hug.

“Yeah,” Marcus said. “Seriously.”

“Thanks.” He looked like he might cry, but then he said, “Oh, and not a word about this to anyone, okay? Because if nothing comes of it, well, you know . . .”

Jane considered right then telling her father and Marcus that she’d located a friend of Mom’s. But maybe caution was in order there, too. Because if nothing ever comes of it . . .

“Sure, Dad,” Jane said, barely able to contain her excitement about it all. “Of course.”





When sleep wouldn’t come—Leo’s mom, the Tsunami, Leo’s mom, the Tsunami—she climbed out of bed and looked out at the Parachute Jump and tried to picture one of her father’s creations in its shadows. She imagined what the coaster’s sign might look like, with a big blue-and-white wave hanging threateningly over the capital T of Tsunami. She imagined lines of people, waiting for a chance to ride and then spilling out onto the boardwalk to talk about how amazing it was. No doubt some of them—a lot of them—would go to the Anchor for a beer. Leo’s dad would be able to pay as much rent as he needed, and whatever Loki did just wouldn’t compare.

She wished the mermaid doll on her night table would come to life and give her some tips on keeping secrets. Because she wanted to tell Leo and Babette and anyone else she could think of about the Tsunami.

Please let this happen, she begged. Though she wasn’t quite sure who she was begging. She just didn’t want to have to be there to pick up the pieces of her father if this didn’t come through for him.

The old window rattled in the wind then, and she pulled the covers up against the empty house and whispered to herself, inviting sleep with three sentences on a loop: This is your captain.

We are passing through a storm.

We are quite safe. . . .





CHAPTER eleven


SHE WAS GOING TO BE EARLY to meet Leo and his mother at the club after school if she didn’t slow the hell down, so she stopped to look at one of the big vacant lots that had been plastered with THE FUTURE OF CONEY ISLAND HAS ARRIVED signs. She hadn’t noticed the logo on the signs the first time she saw them, but she saw it now.

Loki.

The god of mischief. A shape-shifter.

(Thanks, Mr. Motamed of Introduction to Mythology.) The I of the logo took the shape of a serpent.

She wasn’t sure that was the best kind of name—or logo—for a company that was coming into a neighborhood and causing so much trouble; it was almost like they were bragging. But maybe there was no good name for a company like that.

At the gate to Wonderland, she looked up at that Mad Hatter. It had been a long time since she’d read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, but she remembered that weird tea party, the way the Mad Hatter talked in riddles. Why is a raven like a writing desk?, he’d asked Alice at one point, and Jane had been boggled for days, constantly asking Marcus to tell her the answer. She couldn’t remember how long it took her to understand that there was no answer. That question, too, was unanswerable.