The Different Girl

Without a word, though, he kept going into the classroom.
    • • •
    When I’d come back with May’s unfinished noodles the night before, Robbert had taken his satchel away. Now it lay on the countertop, unzipped and shoved to the side, yawning like a big soft clam. Inside lay Robbert’s notebook, but not whatever else had been there the night before, what he had reached inside to click. Was the click to put something to sleep or wake it up? Then I wondered why he hadn’t taken the notebook back to the classroom where it usually lived and decided Irene wanted to use it. When Robbert used the notebook the lines were short and broken and would scroll and hop when he pushed the button. When Irene used it we saw pictures and words.
    As it turned out, Irene hadn’t eaten all the oatmeal we’d made, so it was easy to heat the rest and serve it hot to May. May also drank some of Irene’s tea, in a cup we almost never used, like Irene’s but dusty and needing a wash. May kept looking over her shoulder, like she wanted to leave or like she wanted someone to arrive. Then she noticed Robbert’s satchel.
    “What’s that?”
    “Robbert’s satchel,” said Eleanor.
    May looked at me, to let me know that she’d seen it before. “No, inside.”
    “Robbert’s notebook,” said Eleanor. “He and Irene use it for working.”
    “Does it connect?” asked May.
    “Connect to what?”
    May stared at Eleanor and her voice got hard. “Why are there four of you? Why does anyone need four ?”
    “Because we’re the same,” said Eleanor. “And because we’re not.”
    “Some do tests,” said Caroline. “And some do control.”
    “Do you do tests?” asked Isobel.
    May didn’t say anything, then shook her head. “Tests is school.”
    “May,” said Irene, with a deliberate slowness that told you to get ready. “How do you tell time?”
    May stared again at Eleanor. “What do you mean?”
    “What do you use ? On the boat. A watch? Navigation instruments? The sun?”
    “You can’t always see the sun,” said Isobel.
    May was still frowning. “Will had an old watch, with hands. The boat clocks used numbers. But Cat taught me to use the sun. We would do it every day at noon.”
    “You can’t always see the sun,” repeated Isobel.
    “We would make measurements anyway, and write them down. We would compare them to what we found the next time we did see the sun. And we had the boat clock anyway.” May’s voice had become tighter. She swallowed some tea and turned to Isobel. “How do you do it? Do you just know ?”
    “Know what?”
    “What time it is.”
    “Yes,” Isobel replied, though that didn’t answer whatever question May was trying to ask. “Just like everyone.”
    May didn’t say anything, and after a moment Eleanor took May’s empty bowl and put it in the sink. May saw Caroline waiting, then finished her tea and put the cup in Caroline’s hands. Isobel collected the spoon. There wasn’t anything for me to collect, so I told May that I hoped she enjoyed her oatmeal. May glanced again at Robbert’s satchel, so I glanced with her. The only thing there was the notebook.
    May pushed back her chair with a scrape, but I was still looking at the satchel, blinking because I realized that the thin edge of the notebook, which I’d never had any reason to notice, was lined with numbers, and one set of numbers was 805324776, which Eleanor had seen the night before printed on a crate, which meant that more notebooks like Robbert’s had been inside.
    “Well,” said Irene, standing. “I think it’s time for a very special walk.”
    • • •
    The six of us, Robbert still not having reappeared, stood at the edge of the grassy dunes facing the beach. The tide was coming in, but the upper part of the beach remained dry and firm. The wind was fresh and strong, blowing our hair and whipping May’s even more. Irene called over the sound.
    “Since we were talking of time, we’re going to do an experiment. Instead of setting a time limit, I’m going to let you all decide how long your walk should be—as long as, when you get back, you’re able to tell me why. Now, some of you go this way.” Irene pointed up the beach in the direction I’d found May. “And some of you go the other.”
    We looked at Irene, wanting her to decide, but she only clapped her hands, which was the signal to set off. No one moved, not even May, who stood with her fists in the pockets of her shorts. Irene motioned to