Tumble & Fall (20 page)

“Right?” Jeremy starts down a short flight of narrow stairs. “Watch your head,” he cautions, pointing to the low ceilings below.

Inside the boat is a maze of small rooms, each stacked with rows of bunk beds built into the curved lower walls. A cheerful group works busily on what looks like a folding table, hanging from one side of the kitchen, a long galley space with one wall full of matching electric stove tops.

“How will you get power?” Sienna asks.

“Good question,” Jeremy says, leading them deeper into the cabin. Small LED lights are built into the floor and glow at intervals between their feet. Jeremy pauses in front of a heavy door and pulls it open. Three hulking generators are stacked against the wall, blinking and whirring in the dark. “One beast of a gen-set and two backups,” he says proudly. “Dad got them from this hippie commune in the mountains, in exchange for a few reserved spots on the boat.”

Owen leans back to peer down the seemingly endless hallway. “How many will it hold?” he asks.

Jeremy closes the closet door. “We’re hoping around fifty,” he says. “Don’t worry, you guys are covered.”

Owen puts an arm around Sienna’s shoulder and hugs her tight against him. Sienna looks from Owen to Jeremy. She wants to talk, but there’s a lump in her throat. She’s exhausted, she hasn’t slept, and her muscles ache from the hike, but that’s not it. She feels more vulnerable, more raw than she’s ever felt in her life, and all of a sudden, she knows why.

For the first time since she wound up in the House, for the first time since all the talk about asteroids and “the end” began, she hopes everybody else is wrong. She hopes there’s a rocket, and she hopes that it works. She doesn’t want this, whatever it is she’s feeling, she doesn’t want it to end.

She takes Owen’s hand and squeezes it.

“Where do we start?”

*   *   *

There is so much work to be done.

Every time Sienna feels like she’s finished a particular task—hauling loads of two-by-fours from one side of the barn to the other, folding sheets and towels for the stash of linens down below, assembling kits of medical supplies and storing them in carefully mapped-out locations—somebody is there to assign her a new one.

After a quick and not entirely successful run-in with some power tools, she joins the painting crew, which turns out to be more shellacking than actual painting. Her head is throbbing from the fumes, her body is sore, and she’s never been happier in her life.

She hadn’t expected to work so hard. In fact, she now realizes, she hadn’t really expected anything at all. All she cared about was being with Owen. She could tell how excited he was to show her what was happening, to be a part of the process in some meaningful way, but she’d imagined a more laid-back environment. Maybe with kids drawing pictures of mythical-looking lifeboats, between rounds of a drum circle and hits of the bong.

In other words: These people didn’t actually think they could build something that would save them, did they?

They did. And now that Sienna sees the “amphibious boat-type thing” with her own eyes, how absolutely real and solid it seems, all of the people hard at work, so completely dedicated to bringing it into existence, she almost believes that they might just succeed. It’s not so much the boat, or the equipment, though it’s certainly all very impressive. It’s the look in their eyes. At first she thinks it’s hope, until she realizes it’s something more specific. Faith. They each have faith, and are, as a group, convinced that they can make a difference.

“Careful,” a voice says from over her shoulder. “You’re dripping.”

Sienna quickly flattens her brush on the wooden ledge, soaking up the gooey excess before it oozes onto her lap. A girl with muscular arms and a fuzzy, shaved head steps between Sienna’s legs and plops down beside her, choosing a brush and quickly getting to work.

“Glad you guys made it,” the girl says. Sienna looks up and realizes with a start that it’s Maggie, the driver from their night in town.

“Your hair,” Sienna says, remembering Maggie’s knotted dreadlocks.

Maggie beams. She is striking, with enormous blue eyes and big pouty lips, all of which had been completely masked by the wild overgrowth of her tangled mane. “Yeah.” She shrugs. “Felt like a good time to lighten the load, you know?”

Sienna smiles. “It looks really nice,” she says. “I mean, your head. It’s a good shape. I mean…”

“I know what you mean,” Maggie rescues her. “I was really freaked out after I started cutting. Like, what if I had this massive egg-dome or something? Or, like, all these crazy bumps everywhere. It was a total crapshoot.”

Sienna laughs. “Right.” She drags her brush along the shiny wooden beams. They are adding a topcoat to the upper deck, a job that Sienna got the feeling was given to people who lacked any kind of real building skills. Maggie doesn’t seem to be one of those people, and Sienna wonders why she decided to join in.

“Sienna, right?” Maggie confirms. “What’s your story? How did you and Owen get together?”

Sienna feels her face flushing pink and glances across the barn to where Owen and Jeremy are standing, hunched and conspiring over a table saw. “We’re … we used to be neighbors,” Sienna stutters. “I mean, we still are, but we used to hang out. When we were little. My family used to come every summer.”

As soon as the words are out of her mouth she wishes she’d found better ones. Now she’ll be just another “summer girl.” One of probably dozens that Owen has picked up along the years, introducing to his core crew and replacing as soon as the season changes, like a pair of worn-out flip-flops. She waits for Maggie to try to hide a knowing smirk, or maybe not try to hide it at all. Why should she? She’s part of the Tribe. She knows how it goes. She’s always there when the summer ends.

But Maggie just nods, her smile still glowing and genuine. “That’s amazing,” she says. “I mean, really cool that you guys found each other again, with all this craziness. And, I probably shouldn’t get all sentimental on you, Owen would kill me, but…”

Sienna looks up, her heart leaping into her throat. “What?”

Maggie flashes a coy smile. “I don’t know,” she says. “I’m sure he’s told you how he feels. But all I can say is, you know, our band, we’re kind of like this little family. And you must be pretty special. You’re the first girl Owen has ever brought home.”

Sienna swallows, and feels a strange, sudden urge to wrap her arms around Maggie, this near-total stranger. She’s never been much of a hugger, not even when she was little. She knows it’s probably because Mom wasn’t, either. There was something about being so physically close that made her uncomfortable, too open and exposed. But now, Sienna thinks that maybe she’s been missing out. Sometimes it’s nice to put it all out there, whatever you’re feeling. And right now, she feels grateful, and connected.

“Speak of the handsome devil.” Maggie winks and looks over Sienna’s shoulder. Owen swings out of nowhere over a rickety piece of scaffolding and plops down beside her.

“There you are,” he says, tugging gently at the end of her messy ponytail. “You guys ready to call it a night?”

Maggie huffs dramatically, feigning disgust. “Call it a night?” She laughs. “I’m just getting started.”

Owen laughs and reaches for Sienna’s hand. “What do you say?” he asks. “Should we leave her to concentrate? She’s easily distracted…”

Maggie pretends to shellac Owen’s foot as Sienna drops her sticky paintbrush into the open can. “Definitely.”

Owen stands and helps her down from the scaffolding to the solid dirt floor. They snake through the crowded space, stopping to admire the work of a group of kids patching a tear in an old canvas sail. Outside the barn, the night air is warm and heavy.

“Looks like these guys had the same idea,” Owen says, gesturing to a group of older guys, building a fire on the beach.

Sienna thinks of Ryan and Dad, out in the woods with their flashlights. They’d have to be home by now. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. “Give me a second, okay?” she asks.

Owen nods. “Checking in at home?”

Sienna shrugs. “Just want them to know I’m okay,” she says. “He was so freaked out earlier. I won’t be long.”

She walks away from the water. She finds a quiet spot where the sand starts to turn to grass, a low overhang of pine branches marking the edge of the woods.

She dials fast. Dad answers on the second ring.

“Sienna?” he barks. She imagines him pacing the kitchen with the phone in his hand, waiting for her call. Her stomach drops.

“Hi, Dad.”

Dad breathes into the phone, a loud, muffled gust that sounds heavy with alarm. “Where are you?”

Sienna crouches into the cool sand and leans back against a knotted tree trunk, wishing any part of her felt as strong and substantial as the ancient, solid wood. “I’m with Owen,” she says. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I left, but I…”

“Come home,” Dad says. His voice cracks and Sienna feels her jaw tightening. She never should have called. “Just come home, Goose,” he says again. “Please.”

“Dad,” Sienna sighs, steadying the tremble in her throat. “Something happened. I wanted to tell you earlier, but … Owen … he has these friends. You have to see what they’re doing up here. It’s amazing. They’re, they’re building this … it’s a boat, but it’s … huge. And it has wheels that fold up and down. There’s room. There’s room for all of us, and I want you to come.”

“Goose…”

“I’m serious, Dad. I know it sounds crazy, but … think about it. Everything that’s happening is crazy. We’re sitting around, living our lives, going to the beach, eating sandwiches, and there’s an asteroid out there
,
an actual
asteroid.
And we’re just waiting for it. Like idiots.”

“Idiots?”

“Yes, idiots. I didn’t realize it until tonight, but what we’re doing, what you’re doing, it’s just dumb. Why wouldn’t we at least try to make a difference, while we still have the chance?”

Dad breathes heavily into the phone. “Sienna,” he sighs. “I have no idea what to say to you, here. You’re right. This is crazy. All of this, every morning I wake up and I can’t believe it’s real.”

“I know!” Sienna agrees. “And…”

“And I can see why you’d want to feel like you were doing something,” he interrupts. “But that’s the thing. There’s nothing to be done.”

“How do you know that?”

There’s a long, heavy pause. “I don’t,” he says. “But I know that I’d rather spend time with you guys here than run around in a panic, trying to stop something that can’t be stopped.”

“It’s not running around, it’s—”

“You have no idea how lucky we are, Goose. We’re so lucky to have this house, this island, a place that’s still calm. Where we can be together, and relax. Doesn’t that sound better?”

“No,” Sienna insists. “It sounds like an excuse.”

There’s a rustling on the other end and Sienna hears Denny in the background, whispering.

“What if I said I’m staying?” Sienna asks.

“Without us?” Dad replies. “Without Ryan?”

“I don’t want to, but…” Sienna takes a breath. “I think I love him, Dad. I mean, I know I do. Owen. I love him, and I’m not coming home.”

Dad’s breathing gets quick and sharp. “You don’t love him, Sienna,” he hisses. “You hardly even know him.”

Sienna feels a fury in her chest. The phone is hot on her ear and she feels her whole body tingling.

“Sienna—”

“I’m staying, Dad,” she says. “But it’s not too late. Just get in the car, and come. There are lots of kids for Ryan, and other parents, too. You’ll see. I promise, when you get here, you’ll understand.”

“We’re not going anywhere, Goose,” Dad says quietly, clearing his throat. “But you’re old enough to make your own decisions. I love you. Ryan loves you. That’s all I can say.”

Sienna feels a hand on her shoulder and looks to see that Owen has been standing over her. Sienna wipes her eyes and swallows. “Tell Ryan…” she says. Her voice cracks and she takes a deep breath. “I love you guys. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

With trembling fingers she ends the call. She feels the rhythm of a sob rolling deep inside her and wraps one hand around her waist, as if she could hold it down.

Owen circles his long arms around her neck. “It’s okay,” he says into the top of her hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How do you know?” Sienna pulls back suddenly. Tears fall onto the front of Owen’s shirt, leaving quick, woven splotches below his collar. “You have no idea what’s going to happen. Nobody does. And I just, I just left them. I left Ryan. I didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I know.” Owen holds her face in his hands, drawing his thumbs beneath her eyes to scoop away fresh tears. “It was hard for me to leave my parents, too. They didn’t get it at all. But, it isn’t really a choice, you know? My mom hasn’t gotten out of bed in three days. My dad, he won’t stop reading things, hoping for new information. But that’s just them. Everybody’s different.”

Sienna nods, thinking of Dad and the wedding. She had assumed that he was doing it for Denny, that he knew she needed a distraction, that he wanted to keep her happy and calm. But maybe she was wrong. Maybe he needed it, too. And maybe, just maybe, a part of him was relieved that Sienna was gone. One less thing to worry about, now that worrying was a way of life.

“Everyone’s got their own ways of dealing with all this,” Owen says. “And we need to be here. We need to help.” She feels the taut, stringy muscles in her arms go soft as she slumps against his shoulder. “And we need to be together, right?” Owen hugs her tighter to his side. “That’s us.”

She breathes the smell of him, his soap, the new dusting of wood shavings stuck in the warm curve of his neck. There’s something about being so close to him, so close that it’s hard to tell where she ends and he begins, that makes her feel quiet and safe.

ZAN

Zan wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing in the bathroom, staring in shaken disbelief at the grimy mirror over the sink, her reflection bleary and broken through tears.

This is what it looks like, she thought. The undoing of everything she’d held on to since Leo had been gone. His perfect memory. Their perfect relationship. All of it, a lie.