The Turning Read Free Page A

appearing in the fog. I didn’t know which would be worse—if the boat was carrying ghosts or living people, in danger. I wondered if I should tell someone, in case there were real people out there in trouble. The fog cleared for a moment, and I looked again. Nothing. Probably I’d imagined the boat. It sure couldn’t have been a ghost boat. First, because there are no ghosts. And second, because we were still more than an hour from Crackstone’s Landing, and that little ghost boat would have had to cover a very long distance.
    I was trying to pump myself up. Get my nerve back. Obviously, I wasn’t wild about hearing creepy stories about the island where I was going, isolated from everything and everyone I knew, separated from the real world for two entire months. I didn’t know what was wrong with me … first the stupid seagull fantasy and then I thought I was seeing ghosts. Maybe I was just missing you, Sophie. Maybe I was just trying to come up with excuses to turn around and come home.
    I pulled my hoodie over my head. It had begun raining, lightly but still sharp and cold, like a shower of tiny ice needles. Now there was only one other person on deck. A woman in a summer dress, not warm enough for the weather at all. She was very thin and had long red hair. She stood against the railing, staring at the sea.
    I can practically hear what you’re thinking, Sophie. Maybe it’s because we’re so close, but a lot of times it’s almost like I can hear your voice in my head and I know what you would say and how you would respond to what’s happening. I know you’re probably thinking that the redheaded girl was pretty. Not that you’re a jealous person. Why would you be jealous when I haven’t looked at another girl since I met you?
    But she was pretty. I saw that when she turned. She would have been really pretty if her eyes weren’t red-rimmed and swollen from crying. I couldn’t quite tell how old she was. Early twenties, I guess. And something about her scared me. She looked not just unhappy but way beyond unhappy. I don’t know why, but I suddenly thought, Damn! She’s going to jump!
    Great, I thought. This is really great. I haven’t been gone an hour. Already a seagull freaks me out, a blind man tells me that the place I’m going is haunted or cursed or whatever, and I see a girl about to dive off the side of the boat. These are not good signs! Maybe something’s trying to send me a message, and I should listen to that seagull. I should have gone for it when my dad said there was still time to change my mind.
    I crept up closer to the woman and calculated how fast I would have to move to drag her back if it really started to look as if she was about to go over the side. She was so thin and delicate, she couldn’t be very strong. Even if she was struggling, I could take her down with one arm.
    Imagine how relieved I was when she just turned and walked away from the edge of the deck. She brushed past me without looking at me, as if I wasn’t there. Rubbing her arms—she was shivering—she went down to the café.
    I stayed on deck for a while. Then I thought what a drag it would be if I showed up on the island sick. Hi, I’m the new babysitter, and I’m here to give your kids the flu!
    So I went downstairs again. The blind man’s wife waved to me, but I pretended not to notice and kept walking.
    More of the tables were occupied. Where had all these passengers come from? Maybe they were all ghosts. Joke. For the first time, I looked around to see who was traveling with me. And for a moment I envied them, the men and women and kids on vacation, on their way to the summer home or the big family reunion, the cousins all playing touch football, the barbecues and parties on the lawn. It was a life I knew only from movies—until I met you and we went to your aunt’s party on the lawn, and everyone was playing touch football.
    I envied them. I did. My easy, high-paying summer job was already starting