The Last Boy and Girl in the World (32 page)

Dad nodded. “Let's do it.” And Jesse and I quickly added ourselves to the human chain.

Shawn Wilcox pushed a hand through his hair. “Great. In three . . . two . . . And now I am with Jim Hewitt, leader of the Reservoir Resistance. What do you have to say about the governor's speech today? Any response to his charge that your movement is putting citizens at risk?”

“Well, obviously we disagree with that.” Dad had to say it loud, because of the idling diesel engines puttering nearby. It looked like he was searching for more to say, but then he nodded for the next question.

“Do you believe it's safe to stay in Aberdeen with what scientists are now reporting about the instability of the land due to deforestation that occurred during the mill's heyday?”

Dad looked a little stunned at the pointed way he was being asked these questions. “Look, we want to know that Governor Ward has explored his other options before demolishing our homes. That's all we've asked for from the very beginning. And his office refuses to comment. What does that tell you?”

“Actually, the governor's office released findings today.” Shawn Wilcox handed Dad a stack of paper, which Dad began to flip through. “Do you believe it's fair to ask the state to spend double the amount of money on this project to keep you in your home, when the residents of Aberdeen contribute the lowest tax income in the state?”

All the muscles in my stomach twisted up into one awful knot. Behind me, Jesse said, “Jeez.”

My dad struggled for an answer. “I'm not going to comment on that until I've had a chance to go through this.”

“So what's your plan now? Block the roads until you get an audience with the governor?”

“Yes. We'll have people standing here day and night until—”

At that there was a loud thunder crack and the air sizzled with electricity.

The wind kicked up and my hair whipped my cheeks.

Dad leaned in closer to the microphone and started over. “We will block this road until someone—”

After a flash of lightning, the rain came pouring down in buckets and buckets. Everyone around ran for cover. Jesse grabbed ahold of me. “Come on, Keeley.” But I pulled free.

“It's just rain!” Dad shouted. “Hold your positions!”

Dad tried to stand his ground, but the rain was driving sideways. After another crack of thunder, Mom rushed to his side and tried to pull him.

He shrugged free.

I know he didn't do it on purpose. It was 1,000 percent an accident. But Mom fell backward, her feet slipping out from under her. She hit the ground with a sickening thud, flat on her back, and it sent up a plume of muddy puddle water. She didn't move for a second, the rain pelting her face.

Dad wasn't even aware that she'd fallen. Not until he heard me scream out for her. Then he turned around and was shocked at what he'd done. The guys who worked with him on the repairs, Sy and the older guys, gave Dad stern looks. He shuffled forward to help Mom up, but it was too late. Mrs. Dorsey and I were already at her side. Mrs. Dorsey looked mad, madder than the time Morgan and I went through her underwear drawer and she found us dressed up in her sexy pajamas. Mrs. Dorsey tried to help Mom to her feet, but Mom refused to take her hand. Mine too.

“I'm fine, everyone. I'm fine,” Mom said. But I could tell, when she finally did get to her feet, that she was standing stiffly, and she was trying to keep weight off her left leg.

Dad wasn't even looking at her. He was watching the dump trucks roll through the gates.

Shawn pulled his KPBC-issued windbreaker up over his head and said, “Let's go,” to his cameraman. “We got enough.”

Jesse and I didn't say anything to each other on our walk back to his car. Or the first few blocks that he drove. It wasn't until I saw him making a turn up the hill that I said, “Just take me back to school.”

“Why?”

I didn't want to go home. “I'm supposed to work with Levi.”

Jesse kept his eyes on the road. “Who cares about that? You know, you should quit that job. Especially now.”

I knew what he meant. Especially now that things weren't looking good for Aberdeen.

Tuesday, May 24

Rain tapering off by early evening, muggy, 66°F

I immediately regretted coming to work, because Levi was clearly still pissed off about what had happened between him and Jesse in the cafeteria. Normally, anytime we hit a downhill, Levi would stop pedaling his bike and let us coast. But that day, he pedaled every downhill, like he was trying to sweat the anger out.

I wasn't in the best mood either, for obvious reasons.

My phone rang twice but I didn't answer it either time. It was Morgan. I wanted to talk to her badly, but I couldn't and wouldn't in front of Levi. Anyway, she'd probably already gotten the story firsthand from Mrs. Dorsey. I imagined them sitting at their kitchen table gossiping, just like the night after Spring Formal. They had to know it was just an accident. Dad would never, ever lay a hand on my mom. But I also knew how it probably looked. Bad.

So until I knew exactly how to spin it, I was sending her to my voice mail.

Levi stopped his bike at the blinking red light on Main Street and set his feet down.

I said, “You realize you aren't a car, right?” When he didn't answer, I mumbled, “No, of course you do. Because if you were a car, you'd run this light like everyone else in town does.”

“It's the law.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

I waited for him to start pedaling again, but he didn't. We stayed stopped in the middle of the road.

“So you and Jesse Ford . . . are what? Boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“I don't know. Sort of.”

“I thought he was dating Victoria Dunkle.”

I hadn't really thought about Victoria since kissing Jesse at his Slip 'N Slide party. And I liked it that way. So I said, sharply, “They were never dating.”

“But weren't they together at Spring Formal? When I found you—” Levi stopped himself. He knew better now. “They were in the hallway together that night.”

“Sure. They were in the hallway together. But that doesn't mean they were
together
together.” I bounced my weight up and down on his pegs. “Anyway, she doesn't live here anymore, so . . .”

“So you're together, then,” he said, pushing.

“Levi, I don't know, okay? We're just having fun. You should try it sometime.”

“Fun like breaking a vending machine? Yeah, count me out.”

That started him pedaling again.

•  •  •

Levi skidded to a stop in front of the Aberdeen Cemetery gates.

It was a relatively small graveyard, barely bigger than a football field, surrounded by a low iron fence and a slack chain that hung across the driveway. I hopped off Levi's bike and unhooked the chain so we could ride in.

Most of the headstones in the back of the cemetery were recent graves, but the ones you could see from the road were old white rectangles shaped like front teeth, jutting out of the overgrown grass at odd angles.

Levi pointed to a cottage. “That's the old caretaker's house. It's been abandoned for a while, so it should be quick.” He made some notes on his clipboard as I climbed back onto his pegs. This was the address we'd skipped a few times already.

As we pedaled in, I saw
HEWITT
etched into stone again and again and again. These were my relatives. Some were a hundred and fifty years, two hundred years gone before I was born. I think I'd heard a story about each one of them, though, from my grandpa. He was the only relative I knew in this graveyard, only he didn't have a gravestone. On his deathbed, Grandpa had asked Dad to scatter his ashes around. He wanted to spend eternity with his family, but not be cold in the ground.

“Hey, do you know what they're going to do with the people buried here?”

Levi shrugged. “They'll move them.”

“Move them where? Like to another graveyard nearby?”

“Keeley, I don't know.”

“I have family in this cemetery, Levi. Don't be a jerk, okay?”

Levi braked suddenly, sending us into a full fishtail spin. If I hadn't been holding on to him tight, I would have fallen off. “My mother's buried here. So don't act like this means something to you, when you've only just thought of it now, okay?” He hit the
okay
in a sarcastic way, trying to mimic me.

I burned white hot. I badly wanted to tell Levi off. But I kept my mouth shut because he was right. I
had
just thought of it then, for the first time. And because a dead mom trumps dead extended family any day of the week.

He put his bike up on the kickstand. He did it so forcefully that it tipped over before he walked into the caretaker's cottage.

He stuck his head out the door a few seconds later. “Are you coming?”

I went inside and immediately sat on the stairs. The place was empty. There wasn't anything for me to do. With the clipboard in my lap, I concentrated on tearing off pieces of ugly-ass flowered wallpaper.

“Don't do that,” Levi said, hitting the light switch above my head. The hallway light on the second floor flickered on and off. “You are a terrible worker, you know that? You barely do anything. In fact, you actually slow me down. After today, there are going to be a lot more houses to clear. If you can't keep up, then maybe you should just quit.”

I glared at him. Could he be that dense? “You're lucky I showed up today. But I'm not going to quit. Especially now that I know I'm slowing you down. If you want me gone, you're going to have to fire me.”

Levi dropped his head back and groaned. “All right, fine.” He rubbed his hands fast over his peach fuzz. When he tipped his head back up, he said, “I wasn't going to ask you this, but—”

“Yeah, it was me. I gave Jesse Principal Bundy's address.”

He looked so genuinely disappointed in me, I had to work on holding my mouth in an
I don't care
grin while he marched down into the basement. Each of his footsteps made the foyer light swing.

I wasn't sure what to do. I should have felt happy, but I didn't. I called out to him, “Look, I did give him the address, but I didn't know what he was going to do with it.”

“I can't hear you!” he called back.

This was ridiculous. “Never mind,” I said, getting up. “You know what? I'm going to go. I'll leave the clipboard on—”

“If you're saying something you want me to hear, you're going to have to come down,” he called out from below the floorboards.

I went to the top of the basement stairs. “Do you want the clipboard? Or should I just leave it up here?”

“Why?”

“Because I'm going home.”

He trudged back up the stairs and held out his hand. “You know, I'd be finished by now if it wasn't for you.”

I handed the clipboard over. “I'm not a bad worker. I just hate my boss.”

“That's great. That's just great. You know what? You're right. Clearly I am a bad boss. A good boss would have told my dad about your stupid Secret Prom thing.”

Oh, crap. “Well . . . I hope you still won't say anything, because a lot of people are looking forward to it.”

“Whatever. I could care less about a fake prom full of fake people.”

I held myself rigid. “How are we fake?”

He opened his mouth and then thought better of it. “I don't want to get into this,” he said, walking back down the basement stairs.

I followed him. “Come on. I want to know.” Levi turned to me and rolled his eyes. “What's wrong with having a little fun?”

“Because not everything should be turned into a good time, okay?” He crossed the basement and crouched down at a piece of machinery, a furnace or something, and started messing with the valves. “I don't even know why I care. It's cool. Ditch out on work and leave me to do everything. Go to Principal Bundy's house and burn it down for all I care. Have a blast.”

“It's not going to be like that,” I told him. “We're trying to make the best of a bad situation. We're making lemonade out of lemons.”

“Is that what you call it?” He chuckled. “Because I think you're trying to pretend it isn't happening.”

I set my jaw. “Sorry to break it to you, Levi, but if anyone's doing that, it's you!”

“How's that exactly? Look at my job. I'm way more involved than anyone else at school.”

“But you're walking around like a zombie, Levi. You go through these empty houses and it hardly registers with you that someone used to live there. You barely look at the stuff they've left behind, you just throw it in trash bags and set it on the curb. And you act the same way at school. I haven't seen you get sad once. Maybe it's because you have your sights set on the next phase. You're a—”

“Don't say it, Keeley.”

“A Guy Who's Going Places!”

Levi curled his lip. “We're all going places. Everyone's leaving, Keeley. Not just me. I'm just being practical about it. You want to believe that your dad can stop this from happening, but trust me, he can't. The sooner you and your friends accept that, the better.”

I waited for him to take it back. When he didn't, when he stalked over to the electric box, I turned around and left.

•  •  •

Mom was still out seeing patients by the time I walked home. Dad stood in the driveway, his cane resting against the side of the garage. He had his table saw out and a beam set up across two horses. He was leaning over, pencil behind his ear, tape measure in his hand. The air smelled of freshly cut wood.

I wondered what he must be thinking. No one would think for a second that beginning the construction on the dam was anything but a huge step backward. Would Dad feel inspired to keep fighting? Or would he give up?