“Sure.”
“Actually, a break sounds good.” Zach clicks off his phone. “Mind if I come?”
“Okay.” I go over to the front desk and pull out the bin.
Mom gets a big laundry bag from the supply closet. “Tell Toni I’ll get the bag later.”
“I will.” Zach and I start piling armfuls of clothes, shoes, hats, towels, and other junk into the bag. We need a second bag, there’s so much stuff. Zach picks up one and I grab the other. We maneuver them out the door. I glance back at Mom, hunched over her keyboard. Her fingers aren’t moving.
I put my bag down. “I’ll be back in one sec.”
Mom looks up and dabs the corner of her eye with a tissue as I come into the office. “I think you got everything,” she says.
“Mom…I ran into Vera earlier. She told me.”
“It’s just temporary. We’ll rehire her, as soon as things are better.”
I unhook the clasp of my necklace and lay it gently on the counter. “I want you to return this. You can use the money for whatever you need to pay for.”
She stares at the necklace for a moment, then pushes it toward me. “Oh, Annalise. That’s so generous. Thank you for offering, but please keep it.”
I don’t pick it up. “But I heard you and Dad talking about that time with the tornado.”
She comes around and hugs me. “There’ve always been challenges, and this is certainly one of them, but we’ll think of something. Dad and I have been discussing ideas. If Gramps taught me anything, it was to rise up against the odds.” She takes the necklace and puts it back on me.
I hesitate. “You’re sure?”
She nods. “Go ahead, Zach’s waiting.”
I walk out and grab the bag again.
“Everything okay?” Zach asks.
“Sort of.” Mom seemed positive, but the shore is still empty. “C’mon,” I say. We start walking toward town.
He sighs. “While you were talking to your mom, I was going over everything I read but nothing’s jumping out.”
“I feel like we’re never going to find out what Renn was trying to tell me.”
Zach’s carrying his bag against his chest. “The answer is here, the answer is here. You’re sure that’s what you heard?”
“Definitely. Maybe we shouldn’t think about it for a while?”
“Yeah. Good idea. Give our brains a rest.”
We cross the street. It’s quiet on Main. “So it looks like you’re done with the contacts?” I ask.
“I think so.”
“Why did you want them?”
He stops and plunks his bag on the ground. “I wanted to be a different person.” He half-smiles. “I had a whole plan, made a long list. The contacts were the first thing. The new me! I was going to lift weights, grow out my hair, learn French. I’d be really cool. Stupid stuff.”
I set my bag down too and glance at his arms, still skinny and bony. “How come you wanted to be a different person?”
“Because then Leo…” His voice trails off.
“Oh.”
He looks at the sidewalk. “Then he’d see me differently. Want me back.”
I nod.
“After the breakup, I felt invisible, and like I couldn’t get enough oxygen. Nothing was like it used to be. I know how Renn feels.” He picks up the bag and hoists it over his shoulder, then strides ahead. He reaches Castaway, jerks open the door, and wrestles the bag inside.
I take my bag and follow him.
Toni, the owner, is perched on a stool behind the counter, eating a salad. “Bringing me some presents?”
We drop the bags on the floor. “Yeah,” I say. “From the lost-and-found bin.”
“Wonderful!” Toni wiggles off the stool and comes over. Her long, beaded earrings swing back and forth as she digs through the bags. “Most of this is in decent shape. Do your parents need a receipt for the donation?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
She goes to the counter and I steal a glance at Zach, but he’s looking away. I can tell he doesn’t want to talk anymore.
The shelves and racks are filled with clothes and shoes. I always wonder who owned this stuff before. The fuzzy white sweater with the red satin bows, maybe a popular city girl? The black boots with chains and scuffed heels, a motorcycle dude? How and why do they end up here, waiting for someone to wear them again? To love them.
Toni hands me the receipt. “Would you two do me a favor and carry these to the back room? My knees have been giving me some trouble lately.”
“Okay. And my mom said she’d get the bags later.”
Toni nods. “Sure.”
When I drag a bag into the small room, it falls over and a few things spill out. And there, peeking out of a rolled-up towel, is the tip of a lightsaber. I pull it out. “At least this mystery is solved! Tyler lost it and we looked everywhere.” I text Maya.
Zach says, “Lost things are always where you never think to look.”
“Definitely.”
As Zach and I are heading back to the cabins, Maya, Henry, and Tyler sprint toward us. Tyler’s little arms are outstretched and his legs are whirling so fast, I’m sure he’s going to trip and land face-first on the sidewalk. But he doesn’t. I hand it over, and he points the lightsaber toward the sky and spins around. “I’m back! Watch out, evil forces!”
Maya hugs me. “The lost-and-found bin! Thank you so much! I should’ve thought of that!”
The boys run ahead, poking flowerpots and light posts, slashing benches and trash cans.
“I owe you big-time,” Maya says. “Thankfully you found it before someone bought it.”
“You don’t owe me. It was just lucky.”
Henry slaps a row of bushes and a bunch of leaves fall to the ground.
“Don’t hurt the bushes! They’re alive!” Maya calls, then says, “I have to tell Mrs. Olsen. She’ll be so happy. Who knew it was right under my nose all along.” Maya pulls out her phone.
Zach and I glance at each other. I feel like we both know the answer is right under our noses too. We just need to stumble on it, like the lightsaber.
I heard it too. What Renn said to the girl.
At my far northern end, there is another body of water, a small, quiet lake that people named Violet, with a delicate, lacy shoreline and a purply color in the moonlight. Once, Violet was very sick too. Almost died. But the people who lived nearby discovered a way. They cared for Violet. They saved that little lake. And for that, I am grateful.
I must show them, the girl and the boy. I must get them to understand what they need to do.
I course my waters toward Renn, to the reeds that grow in the cove, and use my force to pull them out by their roots.
It is time for me to open my heart and trust again.
It is time for me to make things right.
The next morning, two more reservations are cancelled, and the people in cabin 3 check out early. Mom and Dad sit on the sofa, shuffling through bills, deciding which ones to pay and which ones to put off. They’ve put me in charge of the front desk, but the office is a ghost town.
Dad says, “Jackie, we have to do something, and fast. Let’s go through that list of ideas again.”
Mom moves her pen down a pad of paper. “We talked about some type of sporting event, an art fair, a concert, a dog show. We might be able to get people here, but these are all going to take a lot of planning.” She glances out the window toward Renn. “And a lot of time.”
“Agree, but what choice do we have at this point?” Dad sits back against the cushions. “What about getting some groups here for meetings? Like clubs and organizations.”
Mom nods. “I’ll make some calls, get the word out. Maybe someone needs a last-minute place.”
“Okay,” Dad says. “And I�
�ll send out emails to everyone at the chamber of commerce.”
Jess barges in, Amy behind her. “This is the office,” Jess says. “And that’s the Thought Wall. You can add a note if you want.”
“So fun!” Amy peels off a yellow square. She scribbles on it, then sticks it to the wall. Wish Me Luck, with a star around the words.
“Oh, for sure!” Jess cries, and hugs her. “Good luck!” She looks at us. “The audition’s tomorrow. Aims is so going to get picked. I just know it.”
They chatter about the audition—how many people might be there, who’ll be conducting it, when she’ll find out if she made it. Amy keeps calling Jess “Jessi-capital K-a.” And my sister has said, “You are so right,” about ten times, laughing. But it’s not her laugh.
Amy cups her hand, whispers in Jess’s ear. I’m close enough to hear. “You’re sure you can’t go?”
Jess rolls her eyes. “No means no.”
Does my sister even get what’s going on? I ask Mom if I can take a break. She nods and picks up her phone. I walk down to the lake, shade my eyes with one hand and look out, hoping for something promising, but it’s as sickly green as ever.
I spot Zach at the far end of the shore, crouching down. I head toward him. He’s examining something with his magnifying glass. His hair isn’t in the usual ponytail; it’s loose and wavy, just touching his shoulders.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”
“Hi. I was just going to look for you. I found something that strikes me as very odd.”
A bunch of the long, thin reeds have been pulled out by their roots and are lying flat and limp on the ground. “That’s weird.”
“Yes, it is. There wasn’t a storm last night, and I don’t think this was from an animal—no tracks.” He peers at the roots through the glass. “What, or who, yanked these out so violently?”
I kneel, examine the roots too. “How do you know it was violent?”
“It just seems as if they were ripped out by something. The fibers are split, like they were torn apart. Pieces of the roots are everywhere.”
“Maybe the algal bloom caused this.”
He tucks the glass into his pocket. “That’s not what they do. They just zap all the oxygen and nutrients from the water. And besides, roots are pretty strong. They’re like anchors. Some tree roots go as deep as the height of the tree.”
“Vera told me something about roots….Oh, that water is the root of a place.”
He moves one of the reeds with the toe of his shoe. “I wonder if these guys talk to each other too, the way scientists think trees do.”
There’s so much on this planet that I know nothing about. That maybe none of us will ever know. It hurts my head to think about that. Below the dirt, in the air, in the depths of water. Millions of living, breathing, hidden worlds.
Vera said when the water’s bad, the balance is upset, and the people at the meeting said it too. Like the whole world is resting on a giant scale, and the littlest thing can tip it over.
I get up and scan the water for any sort of opening, but there isn’t one. Just some of the torn-off reeds, stuck in the algae.
“Zach?”
He stands too. “Yeah?”
“What you said yesterday about being invisible? I saw you in the field at my school, reading. And when you were examining a tree with your magnifying glass, before we knew each other. You’re not invisible.”
He looks out at the water. “I don’t feel like that here. It’s so different from my apartment building where people barely say hi to each other, and my school, where everyone has to be the best.” He laughs. “Renn Lake is calming. Like you’re wrapped in a giant fleece blanket that’s around the whole town.”
I touch his arm. “Exactly how I feel.”
He covers my fingers for a second with his hand. “Do you ever think about where you came from?”
“Sometimes.”
“You could do a post on social media, look for your birth mom. People do that.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Yeah, I get that. I’m not sure I would either.” He looks at the scattered reeds. “I guess we’ll never know what pulled these out of the ground.”
I study the roots—their strong network of thin, intertwined fibers. Roots are underneath everything, keeping it all anchored. The reeds. The trees, the lake, the cabins. Mom and her dad and grandpa. The arrowhead and the old key that washed up. The mysteriously named Sage Street, the pile of forgotten things in the lost-and-found bin, even the coins people leave in the cabins. All of it…it’s the roots of Renn Lake.
I trace the necklace with the tip of my finger. “Roots are here, even if you can’t see them.”
He smiles.
“Here.” Here. I gasp. “Zach!”
He jumps. “What?”
“It’s not chemicals, or a machine that blows air into the water.” I circle my arms. “The answer is here! Something right around us. Dirt and lost arrowheads and buried keys and leaves and roots!”
Zach stares at me, then shouts, “Wait! I’m so spacy sometimes! It was such a small part of the science unit, I didn’t even think of it. But my teacher said there are some plants that eat up bad algae.”
“What!” A shock runs through me. “You’re just remembering that now!”
“I didn’t make the connection. There was a lot of information in that class. I filled up four entire notebooks!”
“This has to be what Renn was trying to tell me.”
Zach’s already tapping his phone. “Right, right! Floating plant islands,” he says. “Their roots dangle into the water and basically soak up the excess nutrients and algae. It’s genius, really. This website says they were used on a contaminated lake in Montana. And Illinois. And other places too—China, New Zealand, Canada. It took time—months, or close to a year in some cases—but it worked. The plant islands mimicked wetlands.” He looks up. “Of course! Wetlands are natural water purifiers. They strain out the bacteria.”
I want to do a hundred cartwheels across the shore. “Let’s go tell my dad! C’mon! We found a solution!” And it was right under our noses.
I start to run, but he doesn’t move. “What are you waiting for?” I yell over my shoulder.
Zach slides his phone into his pocket, then sprints to catch up with me, his hair blowing behind him. “Not to be negative, but don’t you think those people from the health department would know about this?”
I stop, cross my arms. “Well, if they do, I’m going to remind them. They can’t hear Renn. I can.”
Maya’s sitting at the picnic table outside the office. I rush past, shouting, “Hi! Bye!”
“Wait, what’s going on?” she calls. “I just texted you. Wanna come with me to get a manicure? I’m free! Mrs. Olsen took the boys to the doctor. I could really use some pampering.”
“No, sorry, can’t right now!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing! We may have solved the puzzle!”
She looks from Zach to me. “What puzzle? Is this your secret?”
I bang open the door. “I think we found a way to get rid of the algae!”
Zach and I run inside and Maya follows. Dad’s behind the front desk on the phone. I wave my arms, then whisper, “We need to tell you something!”
Dad raises his eyebrows, shakes his head. Then keeps talking!
I grab a sticky note and write IMPORTANT! but he still doesn’t hang up! I can’t help it, I sort of morph into my sister—pacing back and forth in front of the desk, doing a couple of stomps and several huffs—until he finally ends the call.
“Okay, what’s the emergency?”
“Dad!” I shout. “Sorry to barge in, but Zach and I found a solution!”
“Well, maybe,” Zach says.
“No, n
ot maybe, yes!” I add one last stomp. “Listen. There was a contaminated lake in Montana. They made these islands with plants on them, and the roots dangled into the water and ate up the bad algae! The lake got better, just from the plants!” I snap my fingers. “Problem solved!”
“That’s amazing!” Maya says.
“They work like a wetland,” Zach explains, reading from his phone. “The plant roots grow through a porous soil base and absorb the nitrogen and phosphorus—”
“You can show him all that later,” I interrupt. “Dad, you have to call the people from the health department. The bloom isn’t going away. We have to do this! Now!”
“Hold on.” Dad puts up a hand. “I’m sure they’re aware of these plant islands, wouldn’t you think?”
“They didn’t mention it at the meeting!”
“Annalise, we have to be patient. They said the best thing is to let the bloom dissipate on its own. They’re in charge.”
“It’s been days! Nothing’s changed!”
“Remember, they said it can take weeks, even months. The other lake might have had different conditions,” Dad says softly. “You don’t know what was going on there, or if it was the same as here. The shape of the lake, the depth, the type of algae—all that makes a difference.”
I look at Sophie’s note with the frowny face: The lake is sad. “Dad, why can’t we just call? Ask if they know about the plant islands?”
Mom comes into the office, glances around at us. “What’s going on?”
Dad grabs his phone. “Okay, I’ll call.”
“They figured out how to get rid of the algae,” Maya tells Mom.
“Really? How?” Mom asks.
Zach explains the floating plant islands. “Very interesting,” she says. “What kinds of plants do they use?”
“Anything that likes water.” Zach shows her pictures on his phone. “Iris, sedges, cattail, some types of ferns.”
Dad starts talking to someone and we listen. He mentions the islands, then stops midsentence. Long pause. “Yes,” he finally says. “Right. Of course. I understand.” He hangs up. The entire call was about two minutes.
Hello from Renn Lake Page 10
