Revel (10 page)

“You say that like it’s something you learned in school.”

Zuzu stiffened. Then, with a faintly challenging smile, she asked, “What’s the matter? Are you scared?”

“I’d be pretty stupid
not
to be scared, don’t you think?”

“It’s a dangerous place,” Zuzu agreed. “If you don’t know how to handle yourself. If you don’t belong.”

It was so hard to tell what was going on with Zuzu. Was she trying to test me somehow? Or just scare me? I shrugged, doing my best to look unconcerned. “Guess I’ll just have to stay out of the water.”

“Oh, the bad things aren’t only in the water,” said Zuzu, sliding off the counter.

“You’re like the worst welcome wagon
ever
,” I observed.

Zuzu looked surprised; then she laughed, a rich giggle.
“Don’t worry,” she said, pulling open the refrigerator door, “I’ll teach you everything you need to know. I’m going to hang out with you.” She pouted her full lower lip, surveying the contents of the fridge. “Maisie doesn’t have much milk left.” She swirled an old-fashioned glass quart bottle and sniffed it. “I’ll introduce you around, stuff like that. We’ll be friends,” she added matter-of-factly, and put the milk back.

“Thanks,” I said coolly, “but I don’t need a babysitter.”

Zuzu blinked black feather-duster lashes and her eyes went wide. “That came out wrong, didn’t it? It did. I can tell. Look,” she said with a sigh, “I’m not used to being around someone I haven’t known my whole life. It’s weird, okay? We don’t do a welcome wagon. We don’t do welcome
period
. They just thought I could help you get used to things around here.”

“Who’s
they
?”

Zuzu shrugged. “Your grandmother. The Council.”

I swept up the crumbs she’d left on the counter. “Like I said, I don’t need a babysitter. Especially not one ordered by any Council. And you know, it kind of freaks me out to think of strangers talking about me,
arranging
things for me,” I muttered.

“It’s not like that.” Zuzu twined her long fingers together. “You’re the first new girl my own age I’ve met in, well, as long as I can remember.” She bit her lower lip. “I really
want
us to be friends.”

She looked genuinely upset.

“Well, I guess that would be nice,” I said slowly. And realized with a pang that it really
would
be nice. “Thanks.”

Zuzu’s smile gleamed again, this time in a grin that made her cheeks dimple and displayed a little gap between her two front teeth. “Fabulous,” she said. “I can show you all around the island.”

“Where do we start?”

“There’s only one place,” she replied with a shrug. “The Snug.”

HAM AND BEAN SOLSTICE EVE SUPPER—GET YOUR TICKETS EARLY!

The sign was tacked on a dark wooden door decorated with brass trim. Inside was a dimly lit room filled with tables and booths, each set with a candle flickering in a jelly jar. About half of the seats were occupied with people eating and drinking. The smell of fried food wafted through the swinging doors to a kitchen. Posters of old movies, bands and cars decorated most of the darkly paneled walls except the one lined by a set of shelves sagging under the weight of books. A man in a faded denim shirt sat on a stool in the corner playing guitar. Whatever tune he strummed was drowned out by the buzz of laughter and talk.

“Welcome to the Snug,” said Zuzu. “Combination
restaurant, pub, lending library and gossip depot. It’s pretty much our only hot spot.”

Zuzu introduced me to two girls. Linda and Marisa were sisters, both with strawberry-blond hair and big blue eyes. Linda was the older one. I knew this because she told me so. She also seemed to do all the talking for the pair of them.

“Marisa has been dying to meet you,” Linda said, “ever since we heard you came to Trespass.”

“That sounds funny, doesn’t it?” I said with a smile. “Coming to Trespass.”

Linda tilted her head, her blue eyes looking a little alarmed. “I don’t see what’s so funny about it.”

“No,” I murmured. “Okay. Really nice to meet you.”

“Hey, Reilly.” Zuzu walked over and sat at a booth with the boy she’d been with when I first arrived. He had a half-finished sandwich and a rumpled magazine in front of him.

“Hi. How’re you doing?” he asked me, making room in the booth. “I heard about what happened.” He gave me a rueful smile. “Guess you’re one of us now, like it or not.”

“And why shouldn’t she like it?” Zuzu demanded, taking a french fry from his plate. “What’s wrong with us?”

“Nothing,” said Reilly innocently. “We’re a real happy little gulag. And yes, I’m going to finish this.” He slid his sandwich away from Zuzu.

“You’re the talk of the island,” he told me with a nod. “Not too many people have faced Glauks underwater and walked away. You’re lucky.”

“I guess so,” I said. “But I really didn’t do much facing. It seems they were only trying to stop the boat. It was kind of my own fault that I fell out.” Several people at neighboring tables had turned to look at me curiously. At least they weren’t wearing the hostile stares I’d experienced on my first day. And nobody was holding a rock. This seemed like progress.

I leaned across the table to them. “Sorry, but this … this is all kind of unbelievable, you know? You live on this island with sea monsters swimming around it.”

Zuzu nodded, looking bored. “So?”

“I mean, how do you live here, how do you spend your time? Do you have a school?”

“Course we do, for the little ones, but we’re all done with that now,” Zuzu said. “Everyone has a job. I work at Gunn’s, packing lobster. Reilly works on the generators and the electric whatnots.”

“Geothermal turbines,” Reilly said, giving Zuzu an exasperated look. He leaned forward, gesturing as he spoke with hands too big for his long skinny arms. “We use hot water that bubbles up from springs in the center of the island to power turbines and make electricity.”

“That’s amazing. But wouldn’t you want the chance to go somewhere else?” I asked him. “To college?”

Reilly shook his head. “Nah. My life is here.” He glanced at Zuzu.

“And who needs college?” she said with a shrug. “The stuff you learn in school changes all the time. I learned a
whole book, practically memorized it.
The Book of Knowledge
, a pictorial encyclopedia, BAL through CRU,” she recited. “Anyway, last month we got some
Time
magazines and I found out there isn’t even a Burma anymore. Exotic land of the monsoon, with chief commercial products of cinnamon, sugar and indigo?” She threw up her hands. “Gone.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just called something else.”

“Myanmar. I told her,” said Reilly. “And Pluto’s not a planet anymore,” he added to Zuzu. “Get over it.”

“It just seems so weird,” I said softly. “You really have no telephone? No Internet? You’re cut off from the rest of the world.”

Reilly nodded. “The whole island is in a constant state of electromagnetic flux. We have electricity from our generators, so we can play movies that we sometimes get. We can’t get any satellite feed for TV or even radio transmissions. Even compasses don’t function properly here.”

“Why not?”

Reilly smiled. “According to the First Ones, it’s because there’s a spell on this place. Personally, I think it’s because this island is centered over a tectonic plate fault resulting in magma extrusions and geomagnetic anomalies.”

Zuzu rolled her eyes. “I just love it when he talks like that. Makes my heart flutter.”

Reilly threw a french fry at her. “Brat.”

“You should know,” Zuzu told me, while throwing the
fry back at him playfully, “that Reilly doesn’t believe in anything.”

Reilly shrugged and took another bite of his sandwich. “I just think there’s scientific explanations for a lot of things people choose to see as magic.”

“I’m also slightly psychic,” Zuzu said, leaning toward me. “Which Reilly doesn’t believe in either. My great-grandmother was a great shaman. Micmac Nation.” She frowned and a crease furrowed her smooth forehead. “I sense
dark forces
at work around you.” She covered her mouth.

“It might be a little more convincing without the giggling,” I said.

The door opened just then, and Sean Gunn walked in. The chatter in the place died down as heads turned and Sean was greeted with a wave or a slap on the back by almost everyone in the Snug. The young lobsterman responded with a quick word or a wave as he made his way over to the table next to us.

He gave me a friendly nod. “Hello.”

“Hi,” I answered.

“That’s interesting. Sean doesn’t usually come here,” observed Zuzu. She glanced at me curiously.

If she thought Sean Gunn’s being here had anything to do with me, it didn’t seem likely. Sean made no move to come over and talk to us. Although once or twice I did see him glancing over at me.

Sean looked out of place. The chair seemed too small for
his tall form and long legs, and he hunched over the table, drumming his fingers as if he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

“He’s had to work really hard, taking over the lobstering business since his dad died,” said Zuzu. She frowned. “His mom has bad arthritis and can’t do very much for herself.”

Soon a waitress brought over his order and Sean reached into his pocket. A number of coins spilled onto the table and I stared. It was a mix of old gold and silver coins, some that looked very similar to the ones I’d discovered in the safe-deposit box.

“Nope,” the lanky bartender called over, “your money’s no good here, Sean.”

Sean raised his cup. “Thanks, Donnie.” He scooped the coins back into his pocket.

“Everybody loves Sean,” said Zuzu, with a smile. “He’s such a good guy.”

“Were those gold coins on the table?”

Zuzu shrugged. “I think so. Most everyone has some. The First Ones don’t care much about coins. They give us the ones they find in wrecks. Sometimes Ben Deare gets permission to trade a few if we need something special from the mainland.”

It explained why Sean was unimpressed with my offer of money to turn his boat around. Money obviously didn’t mean the same thing here as it did in the real world.

The real world
. I wondered if I would ever get back to it.

The man in the corner began to sing in a gruff, soft voice.

It took me a few moments to realize where I had heard it before. My mother had whispered snatches of this song when she was sick.

It was a beautiful tune, but sad. It seemed like most of the people in the Snug knew it well; quite a few of them joined in and sang along.

Sean didn’t sing. He swirled the drink in his glass. “Play something else, Jem,” he called over. The musician nodded and changed to a song with a lively, thrumming beat.

Zuzu smiled and tapped her fingertips. “We’ll dance to this at Revel,” she said.

“Revel?” I asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s kind of a traditional celebration we have on the island every summer. It’s coming soon.”

“It’s nothing special,” said Reilly, giving Zuzu a quick look.

A woman came racing in, her face pink with exertion.

“Crates down on Wreck Beach,” she shouted. “Pickin’s for all.”

One by one everyone rose, emptied their drinks or took a last bite of what they were eating and left the tables, making for the door.

“C’mon,” Zuzu said, rising. “Let’s go see.”