by Sara Saedi
“Well, then she’s gonna be even more pissed that I’m not responding to any of them. And maybe she was drunk, but alcohol just makes everyone more honest. She told me last night she didn’t want to wait for me. I never asked her to. I never thought I had to—she just always said she would.”
Abigail and Wylie had grown to be good friends, but Abigail had never mentioned wanting to end things with Joshua. Then again, Wylie was his sister. She wasn’t exactly the ideal person to confide in about that topic.
“Abigail loves you,” she told her brother. “She just needs time, that’s all.”
Tinka entered the room without knocking, bringing their conversation to a halt. She now sported a form-fitting camouflage-print dress and wore her short hair slicked back. Micah practically had to wipe the drool from his mouth.
“It’s time for dinner. Follow me.”
The dining room was only a short walk away from the bungalow, but Tinka took the scenic route: back down the stairs and past the lagoon. Kerosene lamps, paper lanterns, and tealight candles lit up the grounds. The stars were magnificent. They seemed to cover every inch of the black sky above them. The ones they’d flown below in Manhattan looked dull in comparison. The dining room was filled with kids cleaning their plates, but Tinka took them to a private room off to the side of the common area, which was currently quiet and empty.
The table was decorated with small centerpieces filled with burro’s tail and dandelions. The fish Lola had been preparing was now grilled and laid out on a large platter. The seasoning and marinade gave it a lavender finish, a hue none of the Daltons had ever associated with seafood. The fish was surrounded by sautéed vegetables, some of which Wylie couldn’t identify. On both ends of the table, oysters on the half shell rested on ice. Each place setting also had its very own shrimp cocktail with a thick green dipping sauce. Wylie thought about how she could hone her cooking skills by helping Lola out in the kitchen, but even if that never happened and they left for home tomorrow, she knew this meal alone would make their journey worth it.
Eight empty chairs surrounded the table. Tinka pointed out their seats. Wylie and Joshua sat across from each other, both next to the head of the table. Wylie assumed the seat at the head was reserved for Phinn. Micah took the seat next to Wylie, and Tinka sat across from him.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Maz and Bandit, the two boys who had left the lagoon with Phinn, walked in and sat down. Lola, showered and changed from when they’d first met her in the kitchen, followed closely behind. She had her wet hair tied into a tight bun at the top of her head. With all the cooking and gardening, she probably didn’t have time to fuss over her appearance—not that she needed to anyway. She grabbed the seat next to Maz, and they exchanged a quick kiss with the casualness of a couple who’d been together for a long time.
Bandit was the first of the group to speak up. “I hope you guys realize you’ve been given the opportunity of a lifetime by being here. Phinn’s very selective about who he brings to the island.”
Wylie was sick of all the veiled statements and mystery. She wished someone would just tell them why they were here, but she didn’t expect any answers until Phinn arrived. They waited for him in relative silence, the giant platters of food taunting them. At one point, Micah reached across the table for a carafe of white wine, but Maz stopped him.
“We don’t eat or drink until Phinn arrives,” he said sternly.
“My mistake.” Micah was so embarrassed, he barely got the words out.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know. Don’t sweat it,” Tinka intervened.
The whole room seemed surprised by Tinka’s gentle tone. Until now, Wylie didn’t think she was capable of being kind.
“Look, why don’t we each share a little bit about ourselves,” Maz said, softening his tone. “I’ll start.”
He told the Daltons he was born in New Jersey to an Iranian mother and an American father, but remembered very little of the Farsi he’d learned as a kid.
When Wylie asked how long Maz and Lola had been dating, they shared a knowing look and said too long to keep track.
Bandit had grown up in Brooklyn, but came to the island two years before. He’d been living at a youth shelter when he met Phinn and took him up on his offer to move here.
“It was the best decision I’ve ever made in my life,” Bandit told them.
Phinn smiled at the sentiment as he entered the room, looking freshly showered and shaved. He kept his eyes focused on Wylie as he walked across the room and sat next to her.
“I’m starving!” Phinn declared. “Why isn’t anyone eating? I hope you didn’t wait on my account.”
Phinn slurped down an oyster, then grabbed a beer from a nearby cooler, popped the cap off using the side of the table, and poured it into a chilled pint glass. Everyone else eagerly stocked their plates with the smorgasbord of seafood and filled their wine glasses to the brim, except Wylie, who opted for a glass of coconut milk, straight from the shell. Phinn held his pint glass up for a toast, and everyone followed suit.
“Splash!” he declared.
“Splash!” everyone echoed loudly. The Daltons smiled politely and wordlessly clinked their glasses.
“You say ‘cheers’ on the mainland. Splash is the term we use around these parts,” Phinn translated.
“Oh, got it. Splash, everyone!” Wylie replied, awkwardly lifting her glass again.
For a few minutes, no one spoke as they devoured their dinner. Wylie doused her shrimp with the green dip and took a bite. The sauce tasted like lime and avocado, and the shrimp was so fresh, she could barely stop herself from moaning in delight. She washed it down with a sip of coconut milk that tasted sweeter than the canned kind she cooked with back home. How could Phinn ever crave fast food when he had farm-to-table dining at his disposal every night?
“What did you season the fish with?” Wylie asked Lola, unable to isolate the ingredients as she normally could.
“A chef never reveals her secrets,” Lola replied with a smile.
“Lola, just tell her,” Phinn ordered.
“Fine. Woodmeg and pame with a dash of salt. When you grind them up together, they turn lavender.”
“We don’t have those herbs on the mainland,” Wylie said.
“Speaking of the mainland,” Phinn said, “why don’t we get straight to the point. Wylie, how old are you?”
Wylie, mouth full, swallowed her food quickly and nearly choked on it. “I turned seventeen yesterday, actually,” she answered.
“Happy birthday,” Lola said.
“And Joshua, what about you?”
“Sixteen,” Joshua answered. Phinn gestured to Micah to answer.
“Fifteen,” he said, and then with a glance to Tinka, “but people think I’m a lot older.”
Phinn replied, “The people in this room tonight are members of what I like to call my inner circle. They’re the people I trust most in the world.” Wylie felt her stomach flip. It shouldn’t have mattered, but she hated the idea of Tinka being that important to Phinn.
“How old are you guys?” Phinn asked the rest of the party. They answered in unison:
“Seventeen.”
“And when will each of you turn eighteen?”
Again, they responded at the same time:
“Never.”
Wylie could feel Joshua kick her under the table. She couldn’t look at him, because she was certain they were both thinking the same thing. What did they mean they were never going to turn eighteen? Were the Daltons witnessing some sort of strange suicide pact?
Phinn laughed. “You guys look confused.”
“We’re just not sure what you mean by never turning eighteen. Do you all plan to off yourselves or something?” Joshua asked.
“Nope,” Phinn said, refilling his beer glass. “You could say we’re timeless.
”
“Are we the butt of some elaborate joke?” Wylie asked, defensively. “Is this some weird hidden-camera show?”
“It’s not a joke,” Phinn assured her. “The reason we’ll never turn eighteen is because we live on an island that’s frozen in time. Hence the name Minor Island. You grow up to be seventeen, and then you stop aging. Told you I had a good reason for bringing you here,” he added, clearly pleased with himself.
“You’re full of it,” Joshua said, examining all the faces of the inner circle. None of them gave anything away.
“This is a place where we don’t answer to any adults or parents or police officers.” Phinn made a point of looking at Joshua. “It’s magical and tropic and we’d love it if you decided to stay. I know it’s all been shrouded in mystery and you’ve had a lot of questions. Now I can answer them.”
Wylie almost didn’t want to allow herself to believe what Phinn was telling them was the truth. An island where no one aged past seventeen, but with all of the perks of being an adult? She could take care of herself and never age a day in her life. No mortgage payments or divorce filings. No diseases brought on by old age. If this was a joke, it was a cruel one.
Joshua asked the first question. “Okay, if this is for real, how did you guys even find this place?”
“My parents met and fell in love in the sixties. They had me and then five years later, my dad got drafted to Vietnam. He didn’t want to go, and my mom didn’t want him to leave. So they left the States with a group of friends in a similar predicament. Maz’s parents and Tinka’s parents were with them. My mom insisted that instead of crossing the border, they sail to Nova Scotia. But they got caught in a storm and were lost at sea for hours until they washed ashore here. Lola’s family was indigenous to the island, so they were already here. They took our parents in and let them stay.”
Wylie’s hands shook as she refilled her glass. Bandit was right—Phinn had given them the opportunity of a lifetime. He wasn’t a psychopath after all. What he’d done on the boat wasn’t a kidnapping; it was a rescue mission.
“Does your family still live on the island?” Wylie asked Lola.
Phinn answered for her. “There weren’t many of them left by the time we got here. After some years of living here together, they decided to leave.”
“Were they pushed out?” Wylie continued to press, uneasy with the notion that they’d be forced to leave.
“No,” Lola was quick to respond. “It was their decision. In fact, we begged them to stay, but they wanted to move on. After meeting Phinn’s parents, they became obsessed with the idea of getting older. Me, not so much.”
Micah asked the next question. “So, what happened to all of your parents?”
The room fell silent and the faces around the table went dark. Phinn took a long swallow of his beer. Wylie could tell this was a subject no one liked to discuss.
“They died when we were all very young.”
“How? When?” Joshua blurted.
“If you don’t mind, I think we’ll plead the Fifth on that one for now. It’s not exactly a happy story,” Phinn replied. Wylie wondered if he’d ever open up about how he’d lost his mom and dad. From the way his smile faded, she could tell it was still an open wound.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Joshua said quietly.
“So . . . can you guys live forever?” Micah asked.
Phinn shook his head.
“We’re not vampires. But when you don’t have to worry about the health issues brought on by old age, you live a lot longer than the average person. We’ve had some deaths over time, though they’ve been few and far between. There was a case of alcohol poisoning and a couple drownings. Ration your alcohol intake,” Phinn said with a subtle glance toward Micah, “and you shouldn’t have any of those problems.”
Wylie played with the food left on her plate. She wanted to keep eating, but she was hung up on the fact that she was currently on an island where no one aged past seventeen.
“Why us?” she finally said. “Why did you decide to bring us here?”
“I started making trips to the States to recruit other teenagers to help populate the island once I turned fourteen and learned to sail, but I don’t want to bring just anyone to the island. It’s not fair for a rich person to win the lottery, right? So we extend the opportunity to kids who’ve been struggling on the mainland. Maybe it’s their dysfunctional family, maybe it’s legal troubles, or maybe they’re just misunderstood. Whatever the problem, their full potential can’t be realized the way it should. So, Wylie, when you told me about Joshua and some of your family problems, I thought this might be the best place for all of you.”
“We should have been the ones to decide that for ourselves,” Joshua said.
“And now you get to,” Phinn replied.
Bandit cleared his throat and spoke up. “I was homeless when I met Phinn. My mom was in rehab. My dad was never around. One of my cousins had just been shot and killed by a cop. I knew my days were numbered. I was depressed. Phinn saved my life by bringing me here. There’s no racism on this island. No homophobia. None of the old, traditional ideals we’re used to back home. If that’s not paradise, I don’t know what is.”
“Don’t you miss what family you had, though?” Wylie asked him.
“They hurt me enough times. I’d have been a glutton for punishment to stay with them.”
Wylie gave him an understanding nod.
“What’s the scientific reason no one ages here?” Joshua asked.
“That, we can’t answer,” Lola piped in. “My tribe thought it had to be an environmental side effect of the island. Whether it’s the air we breathe, the water we drink, the atmosphere—we’re not certain.”
“What we do know is that there’s no age reversal,” Phinn added. “If you come to the island like our parents did, already as adults, you won’t get younger. Which is why we generally don’t allow people to return to the States once they choose to live here. We believe once you go back, you revert to the normal aging process.”
“But then how come you were in New York?” Wylie inquired.
“A few of us make occasional trips to the mainland for supplies and various errands. Our working theory is that once you turn seventeen, you have three hundred and sixty-five days to spare on the mainland. So far, I’ve used up only seventy days since my seventeenth birthday.”
Wylie didn’t want to ask her next question. He had already made the implication, but she was hoping her brothers didn’t catch it. If they chose to live on the island, they would not be allowed to go home again. She’d have fewer than three hundred and sixty-five days to spare in New York, but even then it sounded like she wouldn’t be allowed to go. She tried not to think about what would become of her mom if they abandoned her forever. How would she ever go on without her kids? Her dad would be fine. He’d already chosen to go on without them anyway. But there was also Vanessa to think of. She and Wylie had made a pact a long time ago that after college, they’d move to Paris together. Staying here would mean missing out on her entire senior year of high school. No prom. No graduation. No “Pomp and Circumstance.” She felt silly thinking about it, but basketball playoffs were in two weeks, and their team had a perfect record this season. They wouldn’t be able to win without their star point guard.
But on the flip side, if she stayed here, she could stop studying for the SATs. That one definitely made it into the “pros” column. Best of all, she wouldn’t have to choose which one of her parents to live with. It was almost like Phinn had granted her wish from the night they met. Thanks to him, she could choose to live on her own.
“How do you make sure no one talks about the island once you send them back?” Joshua asked. “What’s to say we won’t go home and tell everyone about this tropical island off the Atlantic coast where no one ages?”
“We have our ways.�
�� It was Maz who answered, his warm smile suddenly gone. Wylie shuddered. She wondered how they would be treated by these people if she and her brothers chose to go home. Would they be monitored all their lives just to make sure they never squealed about the island? As if sensing her anxiety, Phinn grabbed her hand under the table. She contemplated letting go, but there was something comforting about his callused palm against her skin.
“Do . . . you ever get bored?” Wylie asked. “Sure, there are drawbacks to getting older, but most of my friends and I, we can’t wait to move out of the house, go to college, start our lives, see the world. Isn’t there any part of you that wants that?”
“No,” Bandit answered. “Take it from someone who’s lived on the mainland most of my life—the life of an adult is highly overrated. Here, we get to party all the time. We keep the place running. We don’t have to worry about any of the other crap that comes with getting older. Working some dead-end job, paying bills, getting our cholesterol checked. Go back to New York. I guarantee if you walked up to any forty-year-old and asked them what they’d do in your position, they’d stay here. No question.”
Wylie let this sink in. He was right. Living here meant having all the freedom of adulthood and all of the freedom of youth at the same time. What could be better?
“I know this is a lot to process,” Phinn said. “But I think we’ve covered just about everything.”
“Wait,” Wylie jumped in. “What’s on the Forbidden Side?”
“It’s a lot less dramatic than it sounds. You’ve probably heard of quicksand, right? Well, that portion of the island is prone to it. So we decided the area should be off limits, just to be safe.”
Wylie breathed a sigh of relief. The notion of quicksand was frightening, but she knew it wasn’t as dangerous as the way it was portrayed in movies.
“Who’s Hopper?” Wylie asked.
Everyone at the table exchanged an uncomfortable look. Phinn smiled wide to overcompensate.
“Not one of our favorite topics,” Phinn admitted. “He came to the island a couple years ago, but he wasn’t a good fit. So we sent him packing. He had a twisted sense of humor and tagged parts of the island. That’s why you’ll see his name here and there.”
