“Would it make any difference if he had left their names?” Rob had asked with a logic that had done nothing to allay her fears. “You wouldn’t know any more about them.”
“It would have given me more people to call if he’s late!”
Rob had eyed her from across the table in the restaurant where they’d had dinner. “That would make him real happy,” he observed archly. “Teenage boys love to have their moms call their friends, looking for them. Besides, this is Maui, not New York. He’ll be fine.”
Through the rest of their dinner and during the drive home she’d managed to hold her worries in check, but in the house alone an hour later, when Michael hadn’t arrived home, she’d called Rob. “Give him until eleven-thirty at least,” he’d counseled. “If he’s still not there, then call me and we’ll figure out what to do. Unless you’d like me to come over?”
“No,” Katharine had sighed. “I’ll be okay. But thanks for offering.”
She’d done her best to stay calm, telling herself there were any number of plausible reasons for Michael’s lateness.
The movie could have run later than they’d thought, or the theater could be far enough from Makawao that it was taking longer for him to get home than he’d thought. After all, neither of them really knew their way around the island yet, and if anyone had asked her how long it took to drive from her house to Kihei, she wouldn’t have the slightest idea what the right answer might be.
By eleven-forty, though, all her rationales had turned hollow. By a quarter to twelve, a nightmare image had invaded her mind:
Michael trapped in a wrecked car, struggling to get out.
When the clock’s gears began to grind softly as it prepared to strike midnight, Katharine reached for the phone to dial the hospital. Before her fingers had touched the first button on the keypad, however, the glint of headlights coming down the driveway struck the wall opposite the front windows.
Her hand dropped away from the telephone as the clock chimed. As Michael came through the front door, the bubble of fear that had been swelling inside her broke, exploding into anger at his lateness.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” she demanded even before he’d closed the door.
Michael’s eyes darted toward the clock, and he winced as he saw how late he was. “We just sort of lost track of time,” he said. “We were playing video games and—”
“Video games?” Katharine interrupted. “I thought you said you were going to the movies.”
“We were,” Michael said quickly, improvising as fast as he could. “But the only one we wanted to see was sold out, so we started playing video games, and just lost track of time. I’m really sorry, Mom. I—”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Katharine interrupted. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”
The repentance in Michael’s eyes vanished. “Jeez, Mom, I’m only an hour late! What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal, as you put it, is that I’ve been worried sick!” Katharine shot back. “Anything could have happened to you! You could have gotten into an accident, or someone might have mugged you, or—”
“This is Hawaii, Mom, not New York! And I’m not a baby anymore. Nobody else had to call his mommy!”
“Maybe nobody else has a mommy who cares,” Katharine snapped, deliberately mimicking his tone. “I don’t even know who you were with, except Josh Malani, and I can’t say I’m nuts about him!”
Recoiling from the sting of his mother’s words, Michael struggled against the tightness that had suddenly constricted his throat and the wetness welling in his eyes. “I was just with some other guys from the team, okay? Jeez, Mom! I made the track team, and I’m making some friends out here. I thought you’d be happy for me!” Katharine’s anger dissolved in the face of her son’s pain, but it was too late. “I’m not dead,” he went on. “And I’m not hurt.” His eyes fixed on her, as if challenging her to say anything more. “And I’m going to bed!” he finished. Stalking from the living room into his bedroom, he slammed the door behind him.
Left alone, Katharine dropped tiredly onto a chair. Why had she yelled at him? Why hadn’t she at least listened to his explanation before she’d jumped all over him? In fact, now that she thought about what he’d said, she realized he had a point. Part of the reason he’d always been home on time in New York was because he’d been by himself. The asthma that had kept him out of school so much had seen to that. Until a year ago, when he’d made up his mind to make the track team, Michael had never been part of a crowd, rarely even had friends to hang around with for more than a few weeks at a time. And then, just as he’d been on the verge of realizing his goal, she’d moved him out here.
And he’d succeeded. How could she have started in on him before she’d even congratulated him on making the team this afternoon? It had to have been one of the happiest days of his life, and what had she done? She’d spoiled it, simply because he was an hour late getting home.
Rob was right — she should have controlled her own fears, and been happy that for once in his life Michael was just one of the guys instead of the skinny, wheezing kid who always stood on the sidelines.
He must have been so excited, she should count herself lucky that he’d called her at all!
Katharine went to his door, knocked softly, then opened it a crack. “Michael? May I come in?” When there was no answer, she spoke again. “Tell you what. I’ll forgive you for being late if you’ll forgive me for forgetting that you made the team today. I’m really sorry I yelled at you.”
She waited, hoping he’d turn on the light and tell her to come in, but after a long silence, he only spoke briefly out of the darkness. “Okay, Mom,” he said. Then: “See you in the morning.”
Katharine pulled Michael’s door closed again.
In his room, Michael lay staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. Should he have told her the truth about where he’d really been and what he’d been doing? But if he had, she would have yelled at him some more.
Better just to leave it alone.
Still, it took a long time for him to get to sleep that night.
He could feel nothing except the still coolness around him.
It was dark, the kind of darkness that could wrap itself around you like a shroud, bringing with it claustrophobia. All around him was blackness, and he was suspended in midair.
Slowly, just as the space around him started closing in — so slowly Michael was at first uncertain that it was happening at all — the blackness began to fade into silvery gray.
The water!
He was back in the water again!
As if to prove the thought, a fish swam by. A beautiful fish, striped in startling hues of bloodred, electric- blue, and a green so bright it was almost blinding.
Michael had never seen such a fish, and he turned to look at it. As if sensing his interest, the fish circled slowly in the water, almost as if it were deliberately exhibiting itself to him. With a kick of his fins, Michael moved toward the fish, but it countered his move, pulling away from him at exactly the same speed with which he was approaching.
He stopped.
The fish stopped.
He swam closer, and this time the fish hesitated before moving away and dropping deeper into the water.
Michael tried the maneuver again, but this time moved very slowly, hoping the fish wouldn’t notice his careful approach.
He got within a few feet of the fish before it dived away and stopped below him, as if challenging him to follow.
Michael stayed where he was. Time itself seemed to slow as he floated in the water, gazing down at the fish, now as immobile as he. In the ghostly gray, silent water, he realized that his friends were gone.
He was alone.
Slowly, inexorably, the fish drew him deeper below the surface, moving closer to him whenever he hesitated, backing away from him just before he could quite reach it with his fingers.
Luring him.
The fish moved deeper into the water, and Michael, powerless to resist, dived after it. Deeper. Deeper and deeper they went. Michael, mesmerized, followed the brilliantly colored fish. Then it stopped, abruptly twitched its tail, and disappeared.
Startled, Michael turned in the water, searching for the fish, but it was nowhere to be seen.
