The Different Girl

Isobel. Isobel went to her and Irene whispered into Isobel’s ear. When she was done, Isobel walked past the rest of us and down the beach. Irene did the same to Eleanor, and Eleanor set off in the same direction as Isobel, and then Caroline, but Caroline went the opposite way, up the beach toward the grassy dunes. Then she motioned to me.
    “This will be like last night on the steps,” she whispered. “You need to walk with May and remember what she says. And you need to catch up to Caroline and make sure she doesn’t fall.”
    I wanted to ask why Caroline would fall any more than I would, but Irene was already patting my shoulder and turning me around. “You go with Veronika, May, since you two are friends.”
    May snorted and started away by herself. I followed, and even though she walked much closer to the water than I could, so we couldn’t really talk—even kicking her flip-flops through the foam, which I knew was bad for her bandages—May kept her pace slow enough that we stayed together.
    But since Irene had told me talking was important, I finally stopped. May went a few more yards, as if she hadn’t seen, but then stopped, too. She dropped to a crouch, picking at some dead coral.
    “Isn’t there something you’re supposed to do ?” she called, still not looking at me. “Something you have to learn ?”
    I nodded.
    “Then why don’t you go learn it?” May stood, having pried the lump of coral from the sand. She flung it with both hands at an approaching wave, breaking the glassy curl of water. The tumble of foam halted just short of May’s toes.
    I took three steps closer to her, making sure the sand was still dry.
    “I’m not your friend ,” said May, squatting again and speaking to the sand.
    Eleanor and Isobel were out of sight, beyond the beach’s turn. Ahead was Caroline, moving slowly, but widening the gap since we’d stopped. I couldn’t see Irene at all.
    “I would like you to be,” I called.
    “Why? What does it matter?” May pried out another piece of coral, dripping sand. She looked at me and then with a sudden jerk heaved the coral in my direction. It landed with a thump a yard short, kicking up sand, then rolled back toward the water.
    “What do you think happened to your uncle Will and his friend Cat?” I asked.
    May snorted again. “I think they’re dead.”
    “But why?”
    “Why?”
    “I’m sorry you’re sad, May.”
    “Shut up about it. Are you stupid?”
    “I’m not stupid, May. I’m asking whether it was a storm or something else. But you don’t know, do you? Because you were asleep.”
    “There was a storm.”
    “I know.”
    “So what else could it be?”
    “That’s what I was wondering.”
    “Why?”
    “Because of everything, May. Because you said the picture was Port Orange when it was somewhere else. Because the cargo on the Mary was things like Robbert’s notebook.”
    May sniffed. “So what?”
    “We’re all together now, May. What anybody knows should be for everyone.” But even as I spoke, I knew this wasn’t true.
    “They don’t tell you everything.”
    “Robbert and Irene tell us as much as we can understand. We learn in pieces, and then we put the pieces together—”
    “But you don’t know where he was this morning , do you?” May had a smile, but it wasn’t happy.
    “Robbert went for a walk.”
    “Who goes on a walk with a toolbox? He went to the aerial!”
    I had to admit that I couldn’t remember Robbert ever walking with the toolbox, and I couldn’t think of anything else near the cliffs that would require it. “Was the aerial broken?”
    “Don’t be so stupid!”
    “I’m not stupid, May.”
    “You think they’re so good!”
    “Of course I do.”
    May turned away, out to the water. I glanced where she was looking to make sure she hadn’t seen anything in particular—like a boat or something floating—and then looked down at May’s feet, half sunk in the wet sand.
    “They saved your life, May. We all did.”
    The wind pulled May’s hair in black curling streamers. Caroline had vanished around the curve. I remembered what Irene had told me.
    “I have to find Caroline, May.”
    I began to walk. I hadn’t even reached the driest sand when I heard May’s footsteps behind me, slapping wet, and then suddenly it hit me and I fell forward hard. I tried to extend my arms but there wasn’t time, and my face hit the sand with a smack.
    • • •
    I lay there, blinking, sand stuck to my face. I