wearing gloves.
“Uh-huh.” I’d done my homework at the galley table below decks while Dad and the other crew members sailed home after the race.
He smiled. “I know crewing wasn’t your first choice today, Maddy, but it makes me happy when you come along.”
“No prob, Dad.” I was always glad to spend time with him. These Sunday-afternoon races were his only respite from his role as head of M. Archer and Company, his investment firm. There were often entire weeks when I didn’t see him. Dad literally traveled the world to attend meetings, meet investors, and consider business possibilities. On any given day he might be in Brazil looking at sugarcane producers, then fly overnight to meet a wealthy sheik in Dubai for a breakfast meeting, and then continue to Vietnam to look at a toy-manufacturing facility.
The smile on my father’s face was replaced by a pensive look. “I hope they’ve found Lucy by now.”
“Me, too,” I said. But I could not shake the sense of dread that I’d felt all day. An hour before, we’d called Mom from the boat to see if there was any news. There wasn’t. Lucy was still missing.
By the time we finished securing the mainsail, a crescent moon had risen over the Sound, creating a shimmering white swath of moonlight across the black waters. Dad and I walked through the dark boatyard past the tall, hulking cranes and hoists, the dry-docked hulls, and racks of powerboats. We’d almost reached the parking lot when I realized I’d left my books in
Walking quickly through the shadows left by the tall white hulls, the only sound I heard was the crunch of my footsteps on the gravel. I reached the ramp that led down to the dock and hurried along, my thunking footsteps now accompanied by the slosh of water. A few moments later I climbed on board the
Pulling my backpack over my shoulder, I walked quickly along the dock, water sloshing beneath me with every step, my eyes darting left and right.
I started to walk again but almost immediately heard the echoing footsteps. I stopped. Was it only the echo of my own steps bouncing off the broad white hulls around me? Or was it something else? Was there someone walking parallel to me one line of boat hulls over?
My heart was rattling and I could hear my own shallow breaths.
There it was again … footsteps crunching … and they weren’t mine.
I started to run.
Now the footsteps were louder, accompanied by the scattering of gravel sent flying by my rapidly moving feet. In the clatter it was impossible to distinguish my steps from anyone else’s, and I pictured someone gaining on me from behind. Hands reaching out to grab me. The need to scream gathered in my chest, but just then I reached the parking lot.
Dad was waiting by the car.
“You didn’t have to run,” he said.
I wasn’t so sure. Breathing hard, heart banging in my chest, I looked back at the boatyard and saw nothing but shadows, and the hulls of dry-docked boats. But there’d been someone back there. I was certain of it.
Str-S-d #6
There was supposed to be a big party last night. I know because they were talking about it at school on Friday. They know you’re not invited and then they talk about it loud in the hall when you pass and look to see how you react. I haven’t been invited to a party since sixth grade, so you’d think they’d realize that I’m used to it. At this point, I wouldn’t go to a party even if I was invited. Life sucks. People suck. Don’t tell me I have a bad attitude or that things will get better someday. You’re not me. You don’t know what it’s like.
3 comments
I’m sorry you feel that way.
You’re not alone. We know what it’s like.
Pathetic self-pitying whiner.
chapter 4
Monday 7:43 A.M.
Did you say something, Lucy? You’re thirsty? Oh, Lucy, really now, we don’t think you’re in a position to complain. Sorry? Of course they’re looking for you. Yes, they surely will find you … sooner or later. We’re sure your parents are doing everything within their power. But let’s be honest, Lucy. Except for your parents, do you really think there’s anyone who’s truly upset that you’re gone?
Oh, Lucy, we really don’t think you should have said that. No, no, it’s much too late to say you’re sorry.
* * *
ON MONDAY MORNING I pulled my Audi into Courtney’s driveway. My parents had given me the choice of any car I wanted as long as it had front and side airbags. I’d thought the Audi was cute.
Courtney was always late, but I was used to that and had stopped at Starbucks for a venti caramel macchiato. I opened the window, smelled the scent of cool salt air, and sipped my coffee. The Rajwars lived in a sprawling split-level house with a pool and tennis court in the backyard that were hardly ever used. Parked in a corner of the driveway near the garage was Courtney’s VW Bug with a light green tarp over it. She’d lost her license after being caught speeding twice within six months of passing her road test. Now she would have to wait until she was twenty-one to drive.
Courtney came out wearing black-and-white horizontal-striped leggings, a pink satin skirt, and a thick, baggy green turtleneck sweater. Her black hair had streaks of blonde and pink and she had a tiny diamond stud in one nostril. She was a gorgeous girl with olive skin and dark, almond-shaped eyes.
“S’up?” she said, getting into the car and taking the caramel macchiato out of my hand for a swig. “Yum.” She looked around. “Got anything to eat?”
“Do you want to get something from your house before we go?” I asked.
“Like, there’s nothing to eat in there?” Courtney said. “I haven’t seen my father in days. I don’t even know if he’s here or away on a business trip?”
Courtney’s mom was back in Chandigarh, the town in India where she’d been born, caring for Courtney’s sick
