The Waters & the Wild Read Free Page A

heart. She didn’t need the complication.
    But: “Who’s that face on the bottom of your board?” she asked anyway, in spite of herself. “An alien?”
    He nodded. “A self-portrait.”
    â€œSo you’re an extraterrestrial?” It was a joke, of course, but his expression remained serious, drawn.
    â€œM-m-maybe.”
    Why should she be surprised? She had seen her double standing at the window. Nothing was certain.
    â€œSo, what’s your story?”
    He kept skating while he talked, didn’t look at her. The rough sandpaper sound of skateboard wheels on cement. “My mom was impregnated by one. He came in a spaceship and did it and left. That’s how they plan to take over our planet.”
    â€œTake over the…”
    â€œYeah. I know. You asked.”
    She had asked. She turned off the boardwalk through the alley that led back to herhouse. He followed her. Past the colorful old cottages with stacks of surfboards in front, their stained-glass windows and beds of shells and lilies; gardenias, dahlias and rhododendrons in Chinese cloisonné pots. He had put his glasses on again, to skate, but he didn’t look like the kid from school. He was gracefully balanced on the board, hipbones showing through his T-shirt above the low rise of his jeans, baggy knees, chunky sneakers. Joseph Hayes was a hottie. Who knew?
    She stopped at her gate and he hesitated; she could tell he wanted to come inside. But she wasn’t going to let him. It was all too weird lately.
    â€œGood-bye,” she said, pulling the string that released the lock and stepping into the rambling garden. Sandy the golden met her at the gate, wagging, his mouth open in aperpetual smile. She could smell pancakes and syrup, scrambled eggs, sausages. Her mother’s weekend extravaganzas. She hadn’t felt like eating much lately, but she had an appetite now. The sun was just starting to come out, clouds moving to reveal the sea-blue color. The roses in Deena’s garden were sugar pink against the pale green wall. Not everyone got to live with roses like that, got to walk to the ocean before breakfast.
    Did this new way of seeing have to do with Haze? With the appearance of the girl?
    Either way, something was different—what? Something was changing.

5
Fetch
    T he dream: She was walking down a sidewalk with a two-year-old girl. The child was round everywhere, with dimpled wrists and blond curls. She looked up at Bee with her round, lashy blue eyes shining above full pink cheeks you wanted to squish.
    â€œShoo-shoo,” she said.
    Bee knew what it meant. “You have to go shoo-shoo? Let’s find a potty.”
    She turned her head, and the girl let go of her hand. When she looked back, Bee saw her sliding down through the sewer opening under the gutter.
    Bee flung herself on her belly and slid down after her. There was a large, dark room with pipes lining the walls. She clung to the pipes, staring down into the shadows, calling for the girl.
    There she was! Suspended by her arms on one of the pipes, like she was on a climbing structure at the park. Bee heard her say “Shoo-shoo” again and the stream of her pee on the cement below them. Bee swung along the pipes toward her.
    â€œI’m coming, baby, don’t worry.”
    But when she got there, she did not findthe child at all. Only a small doll swinging from the pipe.
    Â 
    The room was mostly dark, just a seashell night-light illuminating the tiny bathroom she shared with her mom and Lew. She was at the sink, splashing cold water on her face, trying to wash away the nightmare, the nausea, the pounding sensation in her head. A tapping sound and she looked up, into the mirror. She thought of that game they used to play when they were kids: “I believe in Mary Mack.” If you said it into the mirror enough times you were supposed to see the witch Bloody Mary, who would scratch your face off and then you would