The Leaving(57)

. . . And becoming solid ground worth standing on.


“He ain’t saying”—isn’t!—“but who else would it be?”


. . . And the bottom




dropping out.





Lucas


Lucas was on the computer, reading about the shooting. Because maybe doing so would help him remember that day? It was before they were taken. So in theory, he should be able to remember. The way he should be able to remember maybe taking his first steps, the sound of his mother’s voice. So far, though, nothing.

His phone buzzed a text. It seemed too fast for there to be an ID. Chambers had said to sit tight.

The text said:

Want to hang out?

So not Chambers.

And it didn’t sound like Scarlett.

Because it wasn’t.

Avery?

Did he want to hang out with Avery?

Or did he want to stay here waiting for Chambers and answers? Yes, as a matter of fact.

He did want to hang out.

Yes, with Avery.

Today, maybe only with Avery.

Avery was easy.

A friend.

Right?

Scarlett was . . .

Something else.

Something complicated.

He wrote back,

sure ! when?

where?

She said:

Now? Got wheels?

Ryan and Miranda were out.

But her car was just sitting there.

It was a bad idea, really.

But it was his only idea.

He went down the hall and into Ryan’s room and looked for Miranda’s overnight bag and found the key linked to the strap on a blue hook.

Back to his phone:

Yes.

Pick you up in five.

Then out the door.

Then back for his camera.

Then out again and into Miranda’s car, where he had to push the driver’s seat back and adjust the rearview, even for the two-minute drive.

Avery was waiting beside a pelican mailbox, wearing plaid shorts and a pink tank top and sunglasses with white frames.

“It has occurred to me,” she said when she got into the car, pushing a stack of T-shirts aside and then tossing them into the backseat, “that I actually have no idea what we should do.”

“Pick anything.” He felt suddenly giddy. “Something fun.”

“Fun,” she said. “Like real fun or fake fun?”

“I wasn’t aware there was a distinction,” he said. “Possible to have both at once?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Zoo? Or Zoomers? Mini-golf?”

“What’s Zoomers?”

“Amusement park,” she said. “So it would have to at least be amusing if not exactly fun, right?”

An amusement park.

He sat with the idea for a moment, just looking out the windshield.


CAROUSEL. BEACH. WHITE FIRE. HORSE.


A gardener was trimming hedges along the circular driveway. Lucas hadn’t realized how rich Avery’s family was before, but now it made sense.

The reward.

The house.

All of it.

This was the other side of the tracks, but there weren’t tracks.

“I don’t think there’s a carousel,” she said. “If it matters.”

“Zoomers sounds perfect,” he said. “I’m good.”


They started on the Tilt-A-Whirl and the spinning was brutal, his gut surely disconnecting in there.

Round and round.

Looking for something each time.

Or someone?

To wave to?

No one there, of course.

No one who knew him.

No news vans thanks to Miranda’s car.

But on that carousel?

Who’d been there?

At first he worked hard to avoid touching her. But as the car spun and journeyed around the rails, the force of it threw them together hip-to-hip and there was no stopping it and he stopped caring.

Her hair blew into his face and the scent of honeysuckle conjured images of tangled vines and bobbing bees. He had a feeling of remembering her even if it was ridiculous to think he’d remember a girl from the park or playground of his youth.

He felt his stomach drop out of him with each whip of the car, thought at least twice that he might lose his lunch, was probably turning green, but when they got off, she was steady, unfazed.

“What next?” she asked.

She seemed, somehow, complete. In a way he didn’t feel and didn’t know he’d ever be able to feel. Fully formed. Confident. At ease. Powerful.

“I’m not loving the spinning,” he said, rubbing his stomach, though now that he was on the ground he felt perfectly fine again.

“I know just the thing,” she said, and she took off. He followed her to the Go Karts track. A short line had formed inside a corral and they joined it.

Lucas watched as drivers got into cars and were strapped in by ride attendants. Dirty lights at the track entrance turned from red to green, and a car tore out. Loudly.

“You come here a lot?” he asked.

She elbowed him. “Are you trying to pick me up?”

He smiled.

Was he?

“You may have noticed there isn’t exactly a lot to do around here.” Avery adjusted her ponytail. “There are only so many times in one’s life that one can play mini-golf.”